Kingsley's Bride

Chapter 18: The great Escape

 A surprise update.

***

Darius's strong arms enveloped me, pulling me close to his chest. I could feel the steady beat of his heart, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. He gently untied the ropes that bound my hands, and I winced as the raw skin rubbed against the coarse fabric.

"Scarlett," he whispered, his voice filled with concern. "Are you alright?"

I nodded weakly, unable to find my voice. The sight of the men who had attacked us, now writhing in pain on the ground, filled me with a mix of relief and fear. Blood stained the earth beneath them, and their groans echoed in the air.

"They are lucky Lord Darius didn't kill them for their sin of trying to hurt his bride," Mr. Ralph's voice was cold and unforgiving.

One of the men, his face pale and eyes wide with fear, looked up at Darius in shock. "You... you're Lord Darius Kingsley?" he stammered. The realization dawned on him, and his gaze shifted to me. "And she's your wife?"

The men fell at Darius's feet, their voices a chorus of desperate pleas for forgiveness. But Darius remained impassive, his expression unreadable. He helped me to my feet, his grip firm and reassuring.

I noticed his khaki royal-badged uniform, pristine and imposing, and felt a shiver run down my spine. The carriage awaited us, and as we climbed inside, a group of English soldiers arrived. Mr. Albert directed them to arrest the men who had tried to kill me. Their cries for mercy grew louder, and one of them ran to the side of the carriage, clutching at the door.

"Please, milady, forgive us!" he begged, his voice choked with fear.

"Drive," he commanded the coachman. 

The carriage lurched forward, and the man was pushed back by the soldiers, his desperate cries fading into the distance.

I sat in silence, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and doubt. The events of the day had left me shaken to my core. Meredith running away with Nikolai, her cold indifference as he tried to kill me, the violence, and now these men groveling for forgiveness—it was all too much. But what haunted me most were Meredith's words.

Darius is dangerous. Could it be true?

My thoughts drifted back to that night, the memory as vivid as if it had just happened. I had seen Darius with a sword, his silhouette framed by the moonlight. Men were lifting what looked like a body, dragging it towards the lake. I had tried to push the image from my mind, to believe that there was some explanation, but now doubt gnawed at me. Had Darius really killed that man that day just for tresspassing?

I glanced at Darius, his profile sharp and stern in the dim light of the carriage. Who was the man I had married? The man who held me protectively now, or the one I had seen under the cover of darkness, his actions shrouded in mystery?

"Scarlett," Darius's voice broke through my thoughts. "We are going back to Eleanor's house. Try to rest."

I nodded, though rest was the furthest thing from my mind. Too many questions, too much uncertainty. As the carriage rumbled on, I leaned against the window, watching the world outside blur into a haze. The truth seemed as elusive as the passing landscape, and I wondered if I would ever find it.

***

The dim light of the setting sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room as I slowly blinked awake. My body ached, and I winced as I pushed myself up, the events of the day rushing back with painful clarity. After we returned, I had gone straight to my room, changed out of my damp clothes, and gratefully accepted Mrs. Bedford's help in nursing my wounds. Exhausted, I had collapsed into bed and fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.