He had no intention of ever seeing his daughter again. So much for fatherly love, Lyon thought.
Lyon hurriedly dressed in the dark. He waited until the last possible minute before waking Christina.
When his leaving couldn't be put off any longer, he leaned over the side of the bed, let out a reluctant sigh, and then nudged his wife awake.
"Sweetheart, wake up and kiss me goodbye. I'm leaving now," he whispered between quick kisses on her brow.
Christina came awake with a start. "You must wait for me," she demanded, her voice husky with sleep.
She bolted up in bed, then fell back with a groan of distress. Nausea swept over her like a thick wave. She could feel the bile rising from her stomach. "Oh, God, I'm going to be sick again, Lyon."
"Roll over on your side, sweetheart. It helped last night," Lyon reminded her. His voice was filled with sympathy. "Take deep breaths," he instructed while he rubbed her shoulders.
"It's better now," Christina whispered a minute or two later.
Lyon sat down on the edge of the bed. "Exactly."
"Exactly what?" Christina asked. She didn't dare raise her voice above a whisper, fearing the effort would bring back her nausea.
"Exactly why you're staying here, Christina," Lyon announced. "Seeing your father has made you ill. You've been sick twice a day since the reception."
"It's this stupid bed that makes me sick," she lied.
Lyon stared at the ceiling in exasperation. "You told me the wooden slats made the mattress more accommodating," he reminded her. "You aren't going anywhere, my love, except back to sleep."
"You promised I could go with you," she cried.
"I lied."
" Lyon, I trusted you."
Lyon smiled over the way his wife wailed her confession. She sounded quite pitiful. "You still do trust me, wife. I'll get his confession, I promise you."
"My sore stomach is just an excuse you're using, isn't it, Lyon? You never meant for me to go along. Isn't that the truth of it?"
"Yes," he confessed. "I was never going to let you go along." His voice turned gruff when he added, "Do you think I would ever put you in such jeopardy? Christina, if anything every happened to you, my life would be over. You're the better half of me, sweetheart."
Christina turned her head so that he could see her frown. Lyon realized then that his soft words hadn't swayed her, knew he was going to have to take another tack. "Does a Dakota warrior take his mate along to help him fight his battles? Did Black Wolf take Merry with him?"
"Yes."
"Now you're lying," Lyon stated. He frowned to let her see his displeasure.
Christina smiled. "If the injury had been done to Merry's family, Black Wolf would have taken her with him to see justice done, husband. Lyon, I made a promise to my father and my mother."
"To Black Wolf and Merry?"
Christina nodded. She slowly sat up in bed and was pleased to find that her stomach was cooperating with the movement. Ignoring Lyon 's protest, she swung her legs to the side and stood up.
"Damn it, Christina, you're my mate now. Your promises became mine the moment we were wed. You do belong to me, don't you?"
The challenge in his voice couldn't be ignored. Christina nodded. "You're beginning to sound a bit too much like a warrior for my liking," she muttered. "I would like you to bring me a cup of tea before you leave. It is the least you could do for me," she added.
Lyon smiled, believing he'd won. "I shall fix it myself," he announced.
Christina waited until he'd left the room. She dressed in record time, taking deep, gulping breaths to keep her stomach controlled.
When Lyon returned to their bedroom, he found his wife dressed in a black riding outfit. He let out a soft curse, then sighed with acceptance.
"I must do this for Jessica, Lyon. Please understand."
Lyon nodded. His expression was grim. "Will you do exactly what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it?" he barked.
"I will."
"Promise!"
"I promise."
"Damn!"
She ignored his muttering. "I'm taking my knife with me. It's under the pillow," she said as she walked back over to the bed.
"I know where it is," Lyon said with another drawn-out sigh. "I really wish you wouldn't insist on sleeping with it. The table's close enough."
"I'll think about your suggestion," Christina answered. "Now you must give me your word, Lyon. You won't take any chances, will you? Don't turn your back on him, not even for a second. Don't leave your fate in Richards's hands, either. I trust him, but I have far more faith in your instincts."
She would have continued her litany of demands if Lyon hadn't stopped her by pulling her into his arms and kissing her. "I love you, Christina."
"I love you, too, Lyon. Here, you carry this. It's fitting that you have it, for it was fashioned by a warrior whom I also love. My brother would want you to have it."
Lyon took the weapon and slipped it inside his right boot. Christina nodded with satisfaction, then started out the door. " Lyon?" she called over her shoulder.
"What now?" he grumbled.
"We must make him say the words."
"We will, Christina. We will."
Richards was waiting outside the front door for him. Lyon 's friend was already mounted and holding the reins of Lyon 's stallion. A few minutes were spent waiting for Christina's horse to be readied.
Lyon paced the walkway while he waited. "We have plenty of time," Richards announced when he took in Lyon 's grim expression. "Remember, even if he took men along to help, there are still over a hundred of those prickly rose bushes to be dug up again."
Lyon forced a smile. "I don't think Stalinsky took anyone with him," he remarked as he helped Christina mount her steed. He then climbed atop his own horse with one fluid motion. "How many men do you have posted there?"
"Four of my best," Richards answered. "Benson is in charge. The Baron won't know they're there, and they won't interfere unless he tries to leave," he added. "My dear, are you sure you're up to this outing?"
"I'm sure."
Richards gave Christina a long look, then nodded. "Come along, children. Let's get this done. The captain of Percy's ship is waiting for his passengers."
"Passengers?"
"I've decided to go along. I promised your wife justice would be served. Though we're gaining it through the back door, so to speak, I'm going to be there to make certain. Do you understand my meaning?"
Lyon gave a brisk nod. "I do."
"I don't," Christina admitted.
"I'll explain it later, sweet."
They were the last words spoken until they reached their destination some four hours later. After they dismounted, Richards handed Lyon the moldy box they'd retrieved from the ground on their last visit to Acton 's estate.
"I've replaced the real gems with glass replicas. Wait until I get into position before you confront him."
Lyon shook his head. He handed the box to Christina. "She's going to confront him," he told Richards.
One of Richards's men came over to lead their horses away. He spoke to his superior before pulling the mounts into the forest surrounding them. "You were right, Lyon. Stalinsky came alone."
They separated then. Richards went up the front path and turned to circle the right side of the house. Lyon and Christina moved to the left. He paused before rounding the corner, opened the box his wife held in her hands, and lifted two pieces of cut glass. At first glance they did look like the real thing. They were good enough to fool the Baron, Lyon decided, for the brief minute he wanted him fooled.
He then explained what Christina was going to do.
Baron Stalinsky was kneeling on the ground, his shoulders bent to his task. He was muttering obscenities as he struggled to pull the stem of one fat bush out of the ground. He wore black gloves to protect his hands and worked with determined speed. A narrow shovel rested on the ground beside him.
"Looking for something, Father?"
The Baron whirled around on his knees to confront Christina. Dirt streaked his sweaty forehead and angular cheeks.
He didn't look very commanding now. No, he was a jackal to be sure. The sneer on his face reminded Christina of an angry animal baring his teeth. The look sickened her, and she thought she wouldn't have been surprised if he'd started growling.
Christina faced her father alone. She stood a good twenty feet away from him. She had his full attention, of course, and when she thought he was just about to spring forward, she lifted the box and took out a handful of the fake gems. She casually tossed some of the jewels into the air. "Are these what you're looking for, Father?"
Baron Stalinsky slowly came to his feet. His eyes darted to the left and then to the right. She decided to answer his unspoken thought. " Lyon? I believe my father is looking for you."
Lyon walked over to stand next to Christina. He took the box from her, then motioned her to move away. Christina backed up several paces immediately.
"This fight is between the two of us, Baron."
"Fight? I'm an old man, Lyon. The odds wouldn't be fair. Besides, I have no quarrel with you or my daughter. Those jewels belong to me," he added with a wave of his hand toward the box. "Jessica stole them. In court I'll be able to prove they're mine."