Harry was behind her, and I didn't need to see details to know what he was doing to her. Just like I knew that this wasn't the first time he'd done it.
Rage burned away everything else inside me, and I was moving before Harry could react. My wounds slowed me enough that Gracen reached Harry before I did, grabbing the startled man by the arm and yanking him off the bed. I went for Celina, trusting Gracen to deal with the sick bastard.
“It's okay,” I said as I went to my knees. “We're getting out of here, and you're coming with us.”
She blinked slowly, eyes still unfocused. I took her face between my hands as gently as I could. I heard the men scuffling behind me, cursing and hitting, but I kept my eyes on her. I might be able to walk out of here with a little help from Gracen, but she had to be able to do that too. If she had to be carried, I didn't know that we'd all be able to make it, and I'd be damned if I was going to leave her behind.
“Celina, I need you to listen to me. I know you understand at least some of what I'm saying, so I hope you can get enough to understand that I can't carry you. Can you walk?”
A loud thud made me want to look behind me, but I forced my eyes to stay on Celina.
“You put your hands on my wife.” Gracen's voice was low, deadly. “You hurt her. You hurt that girl. Violated her–”
Harry cackled, the sound wild. “Girl's no more than a whore.”
My hands curled into fists as I heard a thunk of flesh against flesh, the change in Harry's laughter telling me it'd been Gracen who'd delivered the hit.
“Celina.” I pitched my voice low. “Please, you have to listen to me. We have to go.”
Her eyes finally slid to mine and held. She nodded, her hands pushing against the mattress as she tried to sit. She gestured toward the ground, and I looked down to see her dress. I handed it to her, but just as her fingers closed around it, she jerked back, eyes wide as she whimpered.
Before I could react, I was yanked back by my hair. A fist collided with the side of my jaw, and new pain exploded. My head spun as I struggled, then, suddenly, the pressure on my scalp vanished. I heard Gracen shouting, but things were starting to go gray.
“Madame?” A shaking hand touched my arm, and I looked over to see Celina kneeling next to me.
Everything rushed back with overly bright clarity, and I scrambled to my feet. In the few seconds I'd lost, everything had gone quiet. I turned, scared of what I'd see.
Harry was sprawled on the floor, dead. Blood still gushed out of his mouth, his eyes wide open, staring at nothing. Gracen knelt over him, chest heaving, knuckles bloodied. I didn't remember making a sound, but I must have because Gracen turned and looked straight at me.
His face went pale, and he stumbled as he came toward me. His arms went around me, pulling me against his chest. I wanted to stay there, to relax into his embrace, take the comfort he could offer, but I knew we couldn't. I didn't know where we were, or if Harry had people who'd be coming after us, but I knew we needed to get out of there.
“We need to go,” I said as I pulled back. I nodded toward Celina. “Help her.”
The look on his face told me that he didn't want to let me go, but that he also knew Celina was in worse shape than I was. He looked down at her, and she shrank back. I put out a hand, lightly resting it on her shoulder.
“It's okay, Celina. He won’t hurt you. We're going to get you out of here, but he needs to help you.”
Fear was still written on her face, but she nodded at Gracen, allowing him to sweep her up in his arms. I grabbed onto his arm using him for balance as we made our way back out into the hallway. I kept waiting for someone to come out, to demand to know what we were doing, to threaten us, but we made it all the way to the front door before someone finally noticed us.
“Vous ne pouvez pas la prendre!”
I didn't need to speak French to know that the woman shouting at us didn't want us to leave. Gracen paused, the two of us looking over toward the owner of the voice.
“These women have been abused. My wife kidnapped, held against her will. If you wish to contact the authorities regarding your servant, you will need to be prepared to answer for that as well.”
The woman had such a look of fake incredulity that it was obvious she’d known what Harry had been up to, including me.
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. “We're going to leave now, and if you come after us, I'll beat the shit out of you myself.” I gave her a nasty smile. “And I really hope you can understand me, you heartless bitch.”
Judging by the look she gave me, she understood enough.
The lady dropped the act and started screaming in French, bringing a man running. A man who looked both furious and oddly familiar. He began to yell too, and it was clear from Gracen's clenched jaw and angry gaze that nothing they were saying was complimentary.
“Come with me, Honor,” Gracen said, his voice quiet but firm. “They will not try to stop us.”
“And if they do?” I muttered.
“Then I will stop them.”
That was all I needed to hear. No matter what we'd argued about, he was willing to kill for me. He had killed for me.
We hurried down the stairs of what I now saw was a boarding house. A carriage sat in the street in front of us, and Gracen took us right to it. He had me get in first, then handed me Celina. As he climbed in after us, he pulled the door shut behind him and hit the front of the carriage. Immediately, it started to move, bumping over the streets at a fair clip. Celina moaned but seemed to be losing consciousness. I put my arms around her, let her lean on me even though all I wanted to do was have Gracen hold me.
He put his hand on mine, squeezing it. “You are safe now. Both of you.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“A house on the outskirts of the city,” he said, his fingers tightening around mine. “Alexandre St. James owns it. Alize offered it as a safe haven.”
Alize.
Damn her.
Chapter 24
I was so not ready to watch Alize fawning all over my husband again, but I wasn't so petty that I'd refuse a safe place because of my jealousy, especially when the young woman in my arms was in need of medical attention.
The carriage hit a bump, and I sucked in a breath. I needed some doctoring too. I'd lost enough blood that I was a little light-headed, but I didn't think I was in any real danger. Celina, on the other hand, was a real mess.
I could ask Gracen to fill me in on the blanks later. Right now, we both had more important things to worry about. As the carriage came to a stop, I shifted Celina over to Gracen and watched as he lifted her out. I followed him, trying not to grimace when I saw a familiar blonde running out of the huge house in front of us.
To my surprise, however, she didn't look like the flirty, prissy thing she'd appeared to be at the ball. She looked like she was concerned. Beyond concerned, actually. She looked almost panicked.
“Par ici! Rapidement! J'ai un docteur qui attend!”
Gracen followed her, and I followed him, every step more excruciating than the last. I really hoped I'd understood at least one of the words Alize had said as being doctor, because while I had medical training, I could feel myself fading fast, and I wasn't sure I had it in me to be as thorough as I would need to be not to miss anything.
Alize led us up a flight of stairs and into a small room. She rattled something off in French, pointed at the bed, and then hurried off. Gracen set Celina down, and I went toward them. I wasn't sure if there was a doctor coming, so I'd do what I could and hope that it would be enough.
Celina was only half-conscious as I leaned over her, but her eyes managed to stay on me as I spoke to her, my voice low as I explained what I was going to do. I doubted she knew enough English to understand the specifics, but it seemed to keep her calm as I stretched out her arm and looked at her hand.
A man started speaking French behind me, and he didn't sound happy. I flinc
hed as someone touched my shoulder but relaxed almost immediately when I recognized Gracen.
“Let the doctor through, Honor.” He eased me up and to the side. “We need to get you taken care of now.”
I wanted to protest, but I knew he was right. All of the pain I'd been suppressing was making its way past the endorphins that had flooded my system. The cuts weren't deep, but an infection during this time could be deadly. I asked Gracen for water, soap, and clean bandages as I took a seat on a nearby chair, watching as the doctor started to examine Celina.
Gracen began to help me wash up, his expression darkening more with each new wound he saw. Behind us, I could hear Alize and the doctor conversing in French, but their voices were low enough that even if I understood the language, I still probably wouldn't have been able to tell what they were saying.
By the time we finished with my hands and arms, they were thrumming with pain and it was all I could do to keep back the tears. I couldn't cry, not here, not now. Maybe later, I'd be able to let go, but for the moment, I had to stay strong.
Suddenly, Gracen stiffened. He whispered his question. “Is bleeding still a medical practice in your time?”
My eyes went wide, and I shook my head. “No. That's a bad idea. Makes a person weak. Can even kill them.”
He stood and turned, saying something in French that made the doctor and Alize both look up. The doctor looked annoyed, Alize concerned. A rapid exchange followed, Gracen and the doctor both becoming increasingly annoyed, voices rising until Alize finally shouted at them both.
Gracen said something that included my name, and all eyes turned to me.
“Will you help her?” Alize asked, tears brimming, ready to spill. “Please, Madame Lightwood. Please help her.”
It was in that moment that everything clicked into place.
Rather than answering Alize's question, I asked one of my own, “How long have you been in love with her?”
She lifted her chin, her eyes taking on an arrogant light, as if she was daring me to judge her. “Six months. From the first moment I saw her. She loves me too.”
Everything made sense now. This was why she'd been all over Gracen at the ball. She'd been hiding her sexual orientation. In a country founded by Puritans, homosexuality was a taboo that wouldn't be spoken of in public conversation for centuries. No matter how much I wanted to be annoyed at her for having flirted with my husband, now that I knew the reason why, I couldn't be angry.
“I don't doubt she does,” I murmured. “I'd be happy to take a look at her.”
Alize said something to the doctor that made him scowl, then stomp off in a huff. She looked at me as she sank down on the edge of the bed, as she reached for Celina's hand.
“We need to take off your dress,” I said. “I need to see how badly he...hurt you.”
Celina's face flushed, and I knew she'd understood what I meant. Then I heard a choking sob and realized that Alize hadn't known how bad things were.
“He...did he...?” Tears spilled down Alize's cheeks. “Oh, mon chéri.”
“I'll be as gentle as I can,” I promised.
I didn't realize that Gracen had left the three of us alone until I finished my examination and applied cold compresses. She didn't look like she needed stitches, but she had enough tears and cuts that she was going to be healing up for a while. The doctor had already set and bound her hand, so when I was done, the only thing left to do was get her dressed and pray that she didn't get an infection. For that, I'd have no solution. Not in this time and place.
“Merci,” Celina whispered as Alize helped her into a loose shift.
“You and Gracen may stay here as long as you like,” Alize said, her eyes still focused on the woman she loved. “All I have is yours.”
I started to turn, to leave so I could find Gracen, and we could go to bed, but something gave me pause. Maybe it was a result of blood loss or the fact that I knew some of what Celina had suffered had been a result of Harry's torturing me, but I had to say something.
“I knew a man once who didn't want to be with a woman. He was attracted to men. And he was one of the best, bravest men I knew.” I met Alize's gaze, then Celina's. “Don't let anyone tell you that who you love makes you a bad person.”
Alize reached out and squeezed my hand. “Thank you.”
I gave her a tentative smile, starting to go before I paused again. A thought had just struck me. “If you don't mind me asking, how did you know...how did Gracen know to come here?”
“Celina was able to sneak out a message late yesterday afternoon, told me that a woman was being held prisoner. I had spoken to Gracen a few hours before about your disappearance. I hoped that he would find you and bring word of Celina. I had not heard from her in days.” Her fingers tightened around my hand. “Thank you for saving her.”
I couldn't speak around the lump that had just formed in my throat, so I simply nodded before leaving the two women alone.
Chapter 25
Gracen was waiting outside the room, clearly having left only to give Celina privacy. He knew what Harry had done to her. His eyes locked with mine, but he didn't say anything, merely held out his hand. I took it, letting him pull me after him down the hall and into an empty room.
A bowl of clean water and what smelled like witch hazel sat next to the bed. A maid stood next to it, setting out some rags and towels. As soon as she saw us, she murmured something in French and hurried out.
Without a word, Gracen reached for the bottom of my shift and lifted it over my head. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he tossed the bloody and ruined garment to the floor. He soaked one of the rags in the water and began to clean each wound. I clenched my jaw so tightly that my teeth ached, but I knew I couldn't make a single sound of pain, not without hurting Gracen too.
By the time he was finished, my muscles were weak and trembling, and I needed his help to slip between the sheets. I watched as he pulled off his clothes and wiped himself clean, but I didn't say anything either. I had the vague impression that it was morning, but I didn't plan on leaving this bed anytime soon.
As soon as he climbed into bed next to me, I pressed myself against him, shivering as his arms immediately went around me. He kissed the top of my head, his embrace tight enough to let me know that he'd been almost as scared as I'd been.
“I will never let anyone hurt you again. Do you hear me? Never again.”
It took all the strength I possessed, but I lifted my hand to stroke his cheek. He leaned into the touch, then turned his head to kiss my palm. His fingers lightly touched the bruised part of my jaw where Harry had punched me.
“Did he...that man...did he do to you what he did to...”
I knew what he was trying not to ask, and I shook my head. “No. He hurt me, but he didn't...”
Gracen breathed a sigh of relief and rested his forehead against mine. “I thought I had lost you.” He ran his hand over my hair, the gesture soothing me in a way that went beyond the aches and pains in my body. As my eyes started to close, I heard him whisper, “Rest now, my love.”
Knowing I was safe, I gave in to the exhaustion and let myself fall asleep.
The knife was cold against my throat. His breath was foul, his voice was like death itself, promising pain and humiliation. Hot blood trickled down my neck as a bright flash of pain lanced across my skin. His words echoed in my ear, each one more graphic and chilling than the last.
I wanted to struggle, to fight back. Even if he overpowered me, I would at least know that I'd tried. Except I couldn't move. Something had me stuck in place, unable to do anything but listen to the horrible things he was saying, the disgusting details of what he'd done to Celina.
What he planned to do to me.
I tried to scream for Gracen, for help from anyone, but I knew help wasn't coming. No one was coming. I was alone.
“Honor.”
Another voice, a warm voice, came through the darkness, coaxing me forward.
“Wake up, m
y love. I am here. Wake up.”
I gasped as I jerked awake, struggling for a moment against the arms that held me. I recognized the scent a moment before his voice registered.
“You are safe, darling. I have you,” he murmured soft words as he held me, rocking me gently in an attempt to calm me down.
Even as my breathing calmed and my pulse slowed, he shifted us so that I was on my back again, and he was propped up on his elbow. His movements were slow and non-threatening as he slid his hands over my waist, placing a few soft kisses on my cheeks, my lips. I wrapped my arms around him, inviting him closer, needing the comfort his arms offered. He buried his face in the curve of my neck, lips moving against my skin, his gentleness easing the tension inside me.
“I need you,” I whispered as I tugged at his shirt. The room was chilled, the fireplace down to coals, but Gracen's skin was hot, and I craved the warmth.
He pulled his shirt over his head, then reached for mine. I made a pained sound as the movement pulled at my wounds, and Gracen leaned over me, concern replacing the lust in his eyes.
“I'm okay,” I said. “I need you.”
I tried to pull him down on me, but he shook his head and slid down the bed. My stomach clenched, heat pooling in my belly as he lowered himself to the mattress and pulled my legs over his shoulders. Neither one of us had been virgins before we met, but he'd been strictly missionary position with his previous wife, and my ex-fiancé hadn't been the most attentive lover, so we were still exploring what we liked.
I whimpered as he ran his tongue over me, then cried out when he flicked the tip of my clit. The first time he'd gone down on me, I'd had to instruct him, but he was a quick learner. He used all of that knowledge now, adding new bits as he listened to my responses. He had me writhing in moments, coming less than a minute after that.