Free Dark Hero; A Gothic Romance (Reluctant Heroes) by Lily Silver Page A

that his
grandchildren were alive. He’d been out of the country when his daughter died.
The note Elizabeth sent to his estate was set aside unopened until his return,
a year later. The earl hurried to London only to find the townhouse belonging
to his daughter had been sold. He hired investigators to find his
grandchildren, but Fletcher had gone aground like fox, taking the children with
him. The old Earl was relieved to find they were safe, and demanded Michael be
placed in his keeping immediately. Donovan couldn’t refuse the old man. Michael
was his heir and would . . .
    A soft moan brought him back to the present. He rose and sat
on the edge of the bed. “Elizabeth, wake up.” He shook her gently. “Come now,
you have to wake up, dearest!”
    Those enchanting turquoise pools fluttered open. Elizabeth
stared up at his face for a few brief seconds, and then she started screaming.
    His valet burst through the door from the outer suite with
Dr. Linton following. The invasion of men sent Elizabeth fleeing into the
corner. She braced her bandaged hands against the walls and regarded them all
with the eyes of a cornered doe.
    “You shouldn’t be out of bed, you’re too weak.” He held his
hand up to warn the others back. “Come, Lizzie, bed rest is what you need.”
    “M-m-my n-name is . . . E-liz-a-beth!” She insisted, in
slow, halting speech. “M-mother doesn’t allow anyone t—t--to call me Lizzie.
She says its w-what you call a sc-scullery maid.”
    “Well, Elizabeth, are you hungry?” He coaxed, relieved that
she could speak at all after what she’d come through. “I can have the cook warm
some milk and put in a pinch of nutmeg. Or perhaps hot chocolate would be more
to your liking?”
    “H-h-how is it t-that you have s-such things h-here? W-we’re
at s-s-sea.”
    Cognitive reasoning. The tightness lessened about his chest
a little more. “I’m a wealthy man. We have goats in the hold, chickens, apples,
cheeses, hams, all manner of delightful things. I can have the cook prepare you
whatever you desire.” He rose and extended his hand to her. “First, let’s get
you back into bed, Sweetheart.”
    Her eyes scanned his black attire. “H-he sold me, didn’t he?
Papa sold me to you!” Moisture welled up in her purple ringed eyes. Pressed
into the corner, barefoot, wearing a bed-gown, she gave the heart-wrenching
impression of little girl ready to burst into terrified tears.
    “No, lass, it wasn’t like that.” With careful movements so
as not to startle her, he edged close. She froze. He inclined his head to
examine her eyes. Her pupils were unequal, a sign of disorientation. “Don’t you
remember me? I bought up all Fletcher’s notes in exchange for your hand in
marriage. I’m your husband--”
    “No—it isn’t true!” Elizabeth shrieked. She darted from him
as if he were the very devil sent to claim her soul. His valet and Dr. Linton
blocked the doorway, so she scurried around the bed and crouched in the
opposite corner, her breath reduced to quick, short gasps as she cast panicked
eyes at the three men hemming her in.
    Donovan realized the sooner the other men left, the better
his chances were of calming her. “Pearl, bring warmed milk and buttered toast.
Dr. Linton, there is no need for you to be lurking about my suite. I’ll summon
you if I need you.”
    She continued to stare at the open door after the men
retreated. The quaking of her limbs continued, but rather than over-breathing
Lizzie didn’t appear to be breathing at all.
    He rounded the bed and crouched beside her, attempting to
put himself at the same level so as not to appear so intimidating to the poor girl.
“It’s all right, Elizabeth.” He held out his hand. She didn’t take it. He
didn’t expect her to. He was just trying to get her past her terror.
    She turned her gaze to him. The fragile look in her eyes
burned like acid in his chest. He couldn’t stand the inches between them. He
sat down on the floor,