Lord, the task ahead of him would certainly prove exhausting. He was going to have to go to great lengths to keep Christina safe. She'd get into quick trouble if he wasn't always by her side, watching over her. Christina didn't seem to understand caution. Hell, she didn't even know enough to be afraid of him when his temper exploded.
No woman had ever raised her voice to him… nor had many men, Lyon realized. Yet Christina certainly had. When he shouted at her, he got equal measure in return.
She was his equal in all things. Her passion matched his own, and in his heart, he knew she loved him just as much.
Yes, the next twenty years, God willing, were going to be exhausting.
And very, very satisfying.
Chapter Fifteen
I didn't want any more innocent people to die because of me. Edward would come after us. I knew I'd only been given a temporary stay of execution.
When dawn arrived, I'd only made it to the first peak. The wagon train was waking up. Would they send searchers out to find me?
I saw the Indians pouring down the hill then and thought to scream a warning, but I knew they wouldn't be able to hear me. Then another scream came from behind me. It was a woman's voice. Edward! He was there, I believed. Another innocent would die because of me. I grabbed the knife Jacob kept in his saddle pocket and ran toward the sound.
The sight that met me when I rushed through the trees broke through my cowardice, my fear. I saw a little boy, so battered, so bloody, crumbled like a fallen leaf on the ground. The woman who'd screamed was silent now. Her hands and feet had been bound.
Mother and child… like you and me, Christina… the attacker became Edward in my mind. I don't remember putting you down on the ground, don't know if I made a sound as I ran forward and plunged my knife into his back.
The knife must have pierced his heart, for the attacker didn't struggle.
I made certain he was dead, then turned to help the little boy. His whimpers of agony tore at me. I gently lifted the child into my arms to give him what little comfort I could. When I began to croon to him, his breathing deepened.
I suddenly felt someone watching me. I turned and saw that the Indian woman was staring at me.
Her name was Merry.
Lyon didn't return to his townhouse until the early hours of the morning. It had been a thoroughly satisfying evening all around. The look on Rhone 's face when he was being robbed by the man pretending to be Jack would live in Lyon 's memory a good long while.
Yes, it had all been worth his efforts. The charges against Rhone would be dropped by tomorrow at the latest. Everyone now believed Rhone 's story that he'd injured his wrist by accident when he'd fallen on a piece of jagged glass.
Wellingham had been made to look like a fool. That thought pleased Lyon. He wasn't through with that bastard-or the other three, for that matter-but Lyon knew he'd have to wait before making their lives as miserable as he had planned. Rhone 's father would be avenged. The four thieves were going to regret the day they'd decided to make Rhone 's family their target. Lyon would see to it.
Christina was sound asleep on the floor next to his side of the bed. Lyon undressed quickly, then lifted his wife into his arms, careful to avoid being pricked by the knife under her blanket. Put her where she belonged-in his bed. He wrapped his arms around her until she was snuggled against his chest.
He'd have to do something about the soft mattresses, he supposed. He smiled as he remembered Christina telling him on their wedding night that the bed was trying to swallow her up.
She hadn't fallen out of bed. No wonder she'd laughed when he'd announced that she had. Lyon fervently hoped she'd get used to the bed. He didn't relish the idea of bedding down on the ground, but he would do it, he realized with a sigh, if it was the only way he could hold her.
Compromise. The word whispered through his mind. It was a foreign concept to him. Until Christina. Perhaps now, he decided, it was time to practice it.
Lyon was eager for morning to come. After explaining his reason for being so angry with her when he'd found her at Bryan 's tavern, he'd ease into the issue of her safety. He'd make her understand he only had her best interests at heart, and that she couldn't go flitting about town without proper escort.
And she would learn to compromise.
Lyon wasn't able to lecture his wife the following morning. She wasn't there to listen to him.
He didn't wake up until noon -an amazing fact, for he rarely slept more than three hours at a stretch. He felt rested, ready to take on the world. More exactly, he was ready to take on his wife, and he hurried in his dress so that he could go downstairs to begin her instruction.
Lyon had jumped to the erroneous conclusion that Christina would actually be waiting for him.
"What do you mean? She can't be gone!"
His bellow frightened the timid servant. "The Marchioness left several hours ago, my lord," he stammered out. "With Brown and the other men. Have you forgotten your orders to your wife? I heard the Marchioness tell Brown you had insisted she return to Lyonwood immediately."
"Yes, I did forget," Lyon muttered. He lied to his servant, of course. He hadn't given any such instructions. Yet he wasn't about to let a member of his staff know Christina wasn't telling the truth. It wasn't her character he was protecting but his own. Lyon didn't want anyone to know the lack of control he had over her.
It was humiliating. Lyon grumbled about that sorry fact until a sudden thought made him cheer up a bit. Christina must have been nervous to leave so quickly. Perhaps she'd realized the significance of her actions yesterday.
Lyon at first thought to go to Lyonwood immediately, then decided to let Christina stew in her own worries for most of the day. By the time he arrived home she might even be contrite.
Yes, time and silence were his allies. He hoped he'd have her apology by nightfall.
Lyon spent an hour going over estate details, then decided to stop by his mother's townhouse to tell Diana about Rhone. He was given a surprise when he barged into the drawing room and found Rhone sitting on the settee with his arm draped around Diana.
"Am I interrupting?" he drawled.
His entrance didn't seem to bother either one of them. Diana's head continued to rest on Rhone 's shoulder, and his friend didn't even glance up.
"Here's Lyon now, sweetling. Quit crying. He'll know what's to be done."
Lyon barked orders as he strode over to the fireplace. " Rhone, get your arm off my sister. Diana, sit up and behave with a little decorum, for God's sake. What are you crying about?"
His sister tried to comply with his command, but as soon as she straightened up Rhone pulled her back, forcing the side of her cheek onto his shoulder again.
"You stay right there. I'm comforting her, damn it, Lyon, and that's that."
Lyon decided he'd have to deal with his friend later. "Tell me why you're crying, Diana. Now. I'm in a hurry," he added.
"You don't need to raise your voice to her, Lyon." Rhone glared at his friend. "She's had an upset."
"Will one of you please tell me what the hell the upset was?"
"Mama." Diana wailed. She pulled away from Rhone to dab at her eyes with her lace handkerchief. "Christina took her."
"She what?" Lyon asked, shaking his head in confusion.
"Your wife took your mother to Lyonwood with her," Rhone said.
"And that's why Diana's crying?" Lyon asked, trying to get to the bottom of the matter.