Savage In Silk

by Donna Comeaux Zide

  “Arrogant as ever, even when I hold all of the cards, Jared! I arranged for you to be brought here, as soon as I was told of your capture. Your fate rests in my hands, and I assure you I bear no affection for you.”

  Jared had merely smiled coldly at the confession, inwardly seething as he recalled how he had been taken in by Drew’s previous warmth. “You never fooled me, boy,” he lied, “I took you for a weak, spoiled puppy the first day we met but I wouldn’t have hurt Father by revealing it. Now, I suppose I’ll be forced to listen to a brilliant plan you’ve conceived. Allow me to guess,…you’ll inherit everything once you’ve disposed of me. How convenient that you have friends among your own country’s enemies. I wonder, is there any conscience at all, beneath that weak exterior?”

  His coolly delivered taunts had their desired affect. Drew sprang to his feet, face flushing a deep, angry red. “You arrogant scum! I’ll still have the last laugh.”

  He drew himself up to his full height, a sly, devious smile playing at his mouth. “You’ll have a visitor in less than a week, someone you’ll be anxious to see.” Noting Jared’s quick tensing, Drew’s hand slipped inside his frock coat and he withdrew a small pistol, aiming it at Jared. “I suggest you stay where you are, I may miss you with a shot, but the guard is just outside, awaiting my command. He’s rather bearlike and simple, but well trained.” Cocking an eyebrow, he’d asked, “Ever seen a man crushed to death? Not a pretty sight.”

  He seemed to relax slightly when Jared remained immobile, but was aware of the tightly clenched jaw and steely glare. “As I was saying, your wife will be here in about four days. I might even allow you a few tender hours to bid farewell.” Drew moved closer to the door and with one hand on the latch, issued a final jibe. “I must say, of all I’ll inherit when you’re gone, it’s Mariah I’ll enjoy most of all. There’s something infinitely sensual about her that beckons one. But then, I’m sure you remember that!”

  Jared lunged at his tormentor, a raging fury propelling him. Drew made a hasty retreat and before Jared had limped halfway to the door, the key turned in the Jock; Jared kicked at the door with his good leg, frustration overwhelming him.

  By God, if that little bastard laid a hand on Mariah, he’d kill him! What a fool he’d been, in more ways than one. He remembered Mariah coming to him in London, to warn him that Drew wasn’t to be trusted. What had he done? Argued with her, insisting she was wrong!

  He limped about the room, favoring his bad leg, as he thought of the all too many mistakes he’d made. His blind naivete had now put the woman he loved in danger and he was helpless, for the first time that he could remember, to stop it. Pausing at the barred window, he looked out, seeing nothing but an endless expanse of land covered here and there with a dusting of snow. Even if he should manage to find a way to escape, he didn’t know where the hell he was. He could wander for days, behind enemy lines and not end up back on his own side.

  He turned from the window, resuming his angry pacing, unmindful of his leg that had begun to ache with the strain he was placing on it. He’d have to wait until Drew brought Mariah here and then plan to get away. Somehow, by God, he’d manage it! As he glared at the door his brother had so quickly slithered through, he also vowed to kill him. It would just be a matter of time.

  Mariah had done everything according to Drew’s instructions. At the bank, the manager had given her a strange, reluctant look, but once she’d explained that she was leaving on a short trip to the Continent, he had agreed and closed her account. “With all due respect, I don’t think you should travel with this amount of money. Lady Carleigh! Lord Maubrey wouldn’t approve. Allow me to put it into a draft or a letter of credit for your own safety,” the short, perspiring banker had insisted, but Mariah had been insistent, demanding he satisfy her request.

  “Nonsense, Mr. Hinmore, the money is in my name, is it not? Unless I have your cooperation, I shall have to wire my father-in-law!” She’d said, adding, “I don’t think you’ve known Lord Maubrey in a rage…it’s quite an awesome sight.”

  Finally he’d bundled the money into her traveling bag and she had regally held up her hand, waiting until he placed a polite kiss on it; and with as much presence as she could manage while inwardly quaking, she had made an imperious exit from the bank.

  Now, it was nearly eight o’clock in the evening and as Drew arranged for their horses, she changed into the clothes he’d brought for her. She had almost laughed when she saw the young boy’s outfit, but when he explained that they would be crossing first the British then the Russian lines, she quickly understood that the disguise was for her own benefit. The sentries were far less likely to stop and search a young boy than a woman.

  The pants fit perfectly, displaying more of her long slender legs and softly rounded thighs than she’d ever shown in public. The shirt, a dingy gray, was too tight, pressing her breasts flat against her. In the mirror she saw that except for her long hair, she might, in the dark, be taken for a boy. Frowning at the masses of black hair, she set to work and by the time Drew returned, she’d managed to work it into two thick braids that she could coil around her head under the shabby cap. Excited by the disguise, and the trip they were about to embark on, she twirled for Drew’s approval.

  “Even as a boy you look charming, dear. Now, we mustn’t delay any longer. The horses are ready and the Russian sentry expects us around ten o’clock.”

  At last they were on their way! She knew of no plausible explanation they could make if they should be discovered crossing the British lines toward the north. With her lip caught between two pearly teeth, she was absolutely silent. She was doing what was necessary to save her husband’s life. If the army cared half as much for their own fighting men, this ridiculous war would have been over already!

  Urging the horses quietly forward, Drew moved cautiously toward the area he’d used previously to slip past the British. Here, a stand of trees gave adequate cover, and the absence of a posted British sentry made it a simple passage if one was quiet and careful. An amused smile twisted his thin lips, as he thought of how careless the British were. According to proper etiquette, they held the belief that spying was improper and were quite lax when it came to preventing it. It was a definite boon to the Russians that the British believed in the idea of fair play. The French and Turkish were much more practical, and spies from those two countries had been caught behind the Russian defenses.

  At last they came to the area where Drew was to signal the Russian sentry. Cautiously, he called out the agreed-upon password in perfect Russian, and the sentry answered, signifying they were free to pass. Once behind the Russian lines, they spurred the horses to a gallop and Drew directed them toward a road leading past Sevastopol. He still hadn’t informed Mariah how far they had to travel or in which direction, but she kept track of it mentally and noted that they crossed the lines heading north, then made a sharp westward turn and headed north again.

  Finally, he stopped the horses to rest and helped Mariah down from her mount. After riding almost six hours, they both needed to stretch and took advantage of the time to sit by a small brook that ran by the side of the road. "Tell me,” Drew asked, “what happened to change your mind about Jared?” There was an underlying sarcasm to his voice. “How did he explain the fact that Del was carrying his child?”

  A touch of the old hurt was evident in Mariah’s voice when she replied. It was still hard to think about the miscarriage without bitterness. “We were mistaken about Del. It was my fault, Drew, I should have trusted Jared more than I did. He convinced me he’d only let her stay temporarily. Knowing Del, I should have realized what a liar she was; it could have been anyone’s baby.” Her voice broke as she thought again about the son she had lost. “There’s no one to blame but myself. I lost the baby because of my hysteria.”

  Drew stood up, stretching and after stilling a yawn, he stated in a bored, skeptical tone, “I’m glad you have it all straightened out. Sometimes the only alternative is faith, wh
ether it’s misplaced or not.”

  Mariah looked up sharply, puzzled by his last statement, but he quickly ordered her to remount. “We must ride most of the day to reach the rendezvous.”

  The rest of the trip was spent in silence. Mariah was too tired to make conversation and Drew was anxious to reach their destination. Watching her as she rode beside him, Drew’s suppressed desire built to a feverish pitch. He could hardly wait for the moment he would reveal his plans. He’d have her one way or the other, but it would be distinctly more pleasurable to coerce her into submission.

  Remembering how he had grabbed her in the garden of his father’s London home, he realized that he had just sampled the delights that his half-brother had been fortunate enough to possess. A triumphant smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. Everything would soon be his; the money, the inheritance, and most of all, his brother’s wife. He wasn’t sure yet whether he would marry her after Jared’s death or whether he would merely keep her as his mistress. Either way, it was an exciting prospect to anticipate.

  At midday, they stopped to eat a short lunch at a way-side tavern and then pushed on, although Mariah’s strength, after sixteen hours of riding over rough roads, was beginning to fade. After three more hours of riding Mariah pulled up her horse, begging to rest for a moment. “Please, couldn’t we stop for a few minutes for a drink of water and a rest?” When Drew agreed, she jumped down and laid her head against the saddle. “I’m sorry I’m such a bother, Drew, I’m not used to riding such a long way.” Raising her head, she found him solicitously at her side, with his canteen in hand.

  “You’ve been no bother; I admire your stamina so far. Here, have a drink and we’ll rest a short while. The meeting place is an old stone mansion not far from here.” Her face brightened considerably, and after slaking her thirst, she felt immediately renewed and anxious to press on.

  “I see how impatient you are to reach our destination,” Drew commented and revealed, “I must admit I’m just as impatient for what lies at the journey’s end.” He smiled enigmatically, puzzling her, and then helped her to remount.

  Over the crest of a wooded hill, a two-story, gray stone mansion stood, its crested towers giving it a medieval aspect. It belonged to Drew’s maternal uncle Dmitri Baranikov. As they rode closer they could see figures moving about the building, and two heavyset guards in heavy woolen cloaks stood at the entrance.

  Mariah was so excited, she hardly noted Drew’s own barely suppressed excitement. She was in a world of her own, missing the fact that the guards greeted Drew with familiar respect. Once they were inside the courtyard of the impressive house, a small boy ran forward to take their animals and stable them, and Drew escorted Mariah inside. They entered a long, high-vaulted main hall, with ancient tapestries covering the walls. Before Mariah could comment on the deference he was shown, Drew stated, “You’ll find the Russians as class-conscious as the British, Mariah. I hold a Russian title of count, which unfortunately, carries no monetary value.” As he showed her to a seat, a tall, imposing, gray-haired man entered the room and spoke to Drew, conversing in low, hushed tones. “Our host would like to show us to our rooms,” Drew said. “It seems because of the ransom money, we’re to be treated with special care.”

  Mariah and Drew followed their “host” up a long flight of carpeted stairs. The upstairs hallway was decorated with more delicately worked hangings and elaborately framed oil paintings.

  Although she was eager to see Jared, Mariah was able to admire the somber beauty of the residence. “I never imagined there was such a lovely building in this area, Drew.”

  He smiled, commenting caustically, “The Russians aren’t as barbaric as you’ve been led to believe, Mariah. they do share some culture with the West.”

  The man showed them into a large room with tall windows covered by heavy brocade drapes. Placing their luggage on the floor, he went to the windows, drawing the drapes aside so that the late afternoon sun filled the room. While Mariah was busy observing the lovely furnishings, Drew spoke a few brief words to the man, who promptly exited.

  An intricately carved canopy bed was in the center of the room on a raised dais. It was covered with an embroidered coverlet and rich black velvet draperies were gathered at the corners. Heavily carved and upholstered chairs were placed about the walls. “I only hope your room is as lovely,” Mariah commented as she turned to face him.

  It was time to drop the charade, and as though dropping his mask at a carnival ball, Drew allowed his true feelings to show on his face. “You’re mistaken, Mariah. This is my room…you’ll be sharing it with me.” His mouth curled into a cruel smile as Mariah glared in bewilderment. He laughed and continued, “You really are the most gullible child, Mariah! It was so easy to deceive you,” he confessed, his eyes cruel and narrowed as he watched her face. “Do you honestly believe I care about Jared’s happiness?” He became increasingly assured and domineering as he stepped closer to stand before her. “Did he or my father care about my feelings when Jared popped up out of the blue to steal my titles and inheritance?”

  Slowly, Mariah’s bewilderment was replaced by a dawning horror as she stared at Drew’s transfigured face. “I can’t believe this!” She had been a fool, but not a willing accomplice, and she did not intend to cooperate further. “You’re crazy if you think you can get away with this!” she cried.

  Drew’s laughter mocked her defiance as he savagely caught her wrists. “You still can’t see, can you? Isn’t there any sense behind that beautiful face?” A sharp pull brought her close and he slowly bent his head, forcing her lips to part beneath his assaulting mouth.

  It was unbelievable, a dreadful nightmare! Mariah struggled futilely against his hold, trying to escape the repulsive invasion of her mouth. Desperately she tried to strike him with her knee, but he sensed it and shoved her to the bed. His hand slammed forward to crash against her face, and the blow sent her sprawling backward. “Don’t try that again,” he threatened. “You see, I hold Jared’s life in my hands. Unless I have your complete cooperation, you’ll force me to take…certain measures.”

  Mariah lay helplessly sprawled on the bed, doubting his claim. “I don’t believe you, you’re lying, as you did before.”

  Drew smirked as he stared down at her. “Am I, my dear? We’ll soon see. When my servant left here, I ordered Jared taken to the dungeon. You’re so anxious to see him, let’s take a look at how he’s holding up.” He reached down to pull her roughly to her feet.

  Terror was beginning to overcome her and wide green eyes stared in disbelief. He dragged her down the hall and stairs and warned her, “Remain silent Mariah, or Jared will suffer more than I ordered.” He shook her to emphasize his order. Her frightened gaze assured him she would obey. As silent tears slipped down her cheeks, he dragged her unresisting body down another flight of stone steps to an increasingly colder atmosphere.

  Through a heavy oak door, they entered a balcony area overlooking a stone dungeon. Jared was manacled to the wall, his arms stretched taut above his head. Mariah blanched as a tall, burly guard brought back a whip to strike Jared’s exposed back, adding another bloody welt to the dozen or so that already striped his back in an ugly crisscross pattern.

  A whimper escaped her and Drew pulled her close, covering her mouth with his hand. Her body swayed, only the support of his arms keeping her erect. Each time the whip viciously connected with Jared’s flesh, he jerked, yet there was no sound but the whip whistling through the air. Mariah winced at every stroke as though she were receiving the lashes. “Have you seen enough to convince you?” Drew whispered, close to her ear and Mariah closed her eyes against the abuse, nodding her head beneath his hand.

  When they returned to the bedroom, Mariah was effectively subdued, weeping quietly as her shoulders slumped in a posture of utter defeat.

  Drew began to remove his clothing, watching her closely. “I expect you to submit docilely.” Her eyes flashed hatred and he forestalled any attempt at rebellion
by adding, “You hold Jared’s life or death in your hands, my dear. I think you should keep that thought uppermost in your mind. Now, take off your clothes and wait for me in bed; I’ll just be a moment,” he ordered and added, “Try to contain your eagerness, until I return.” With those last mocking words, he left the room, and Mariah gazed venomously after him. Her eyes were liquid with frustrated anger. Miserably she moved to obey his order, trying to remember that her cooperation was for Jared’s sake. I’ll be damned if I’ll play the whore for him, she thought defiantly and in the next moment was overwhelmed by shame at her own selfishness. What did her momentary humiliation mean in comparison with Jared’s life. She was just beginning to see how twisted Drew’s mind really was and she couldn’t afford to push him further.

  The room had darkened and she moved about dazedly in the dim light. Her hands reluctantly pulled at her clothing until she was naked. Already humiliated by the coming ordeal, she crawled beneath the covers to await his return and allowed herself the small comfort of tears.

  When Drew returned carrying a oil lamp, he set it on the table next to the bed and the flickering light illuminated the dull resignation on his captive’s face. Mariah kept her eyes shut, ignoring the sounds as he moved about, stripping off the rest of his clothes. As the bed sank under his weight, she flinched in anticipation and when his hand came into contact with her shoulder, possessively caressing the velvet skin, she shuddered with disgust.

  Drew forced her face around to his, his fingers tugging painfully in her hair. “I warned you, I expected your willing cooperation. That doesn’t include acting like a marble goddess. I like warmth in my women. I know what you’re like, Mariah,” he crooned suggestively. His mouth lowered relentlessly to hers. “Show me how wanton you can be.” His mouth claimed hers as he roughly parted the delicate lips to invade her mouth with his tongue. He slid the covers back and, with his body pressed the full length of hers, his desire was evident.