Accursed Abbey: A Steamy Regency Gothic Romance (Nobles & Necromancy Book 1)

by Tessa Candle

  The husband and wife merely bestowed upon him a little bow of their heads, seasoned with the look of condescending pity that, throughout the ages, the madly devout have always given unbelievers.

  Canterbourne sighed and gave up, walking away from the deluded couple. He had to get Miss Whitely away from them. Even if her neighbour were not a rabidly evil scoundrel, living with such a pair of lunatics would be unbearable. He looked at Silverloo as they settled themselves into the carriage.

  “Well, Sir Silverloo,” Canterbourne now imagined the little dog as a knight, “she may have fled to town, or she may have been stolen away by that yellow-robed, mad bastard on the hill. What do you think?”

  Silverloo stared intently at him, as though willing Canterbourne to know what he meant. Then the dog ran to the side of the carriage closest to the mountain and barked.

  “Very well.” Canterbourne sighed. “I had hoped never to set eyes upon the place again, but I suppose catching up with Miss Whitely in town would have been too easy.”

  Chapter 38

  Elizabeth awoke to find herself wrapped in a rough, musty-smelling burlap sack. The motion of a jouncing cart told her she was in transit. How had she ended up in this situation, yet again? She reached up to feel a sore lump on her head. Apparently she had been knocked senseless this time.

  There was no doubt in her mind that she was on her way back to that horrid little magical hive and to the revolting necromancer who presided over it. What had happened to her axe? Why had she not resisted her captor?

  Elizabeth cast her mind back. She was certain she had been packing. That much she remembered. She must have set her axe down. But how had the mad lord gained entry without her hearing him? She was as nervous as a cat in a row boat. It seemed unlikely that Orefados could take her unawares.

  The carriage slowed. She could make a run for it when they put her down. But on the other hand, the tension of the burlap suggested the sack had been tied shut. She was not optimistic about her chances of escaping while tied up in a bundle.

  And yet, she did have something that might be of service. When she had fixed her hair that morning, she tucked a hat pit into her knot of curls. She meant to have it at the ready to fix her wide-brimmed bonnet securely upon her head when she left for the long cart ride into town. But now it would serve a much better purpose.

  She pulled the pin from her hair and scratched at the fibres of the burlap. It took several minutes, but she got a small hole started, and the further she widened it, the easier it became to pull and scratch at the loosened strings.

  Elizabeth felt the cart finish turning a corner and straighten out. She did not know how much time she had, but if she widened the hole sufficiently, she could wait until the cart slowed for another corner, then jump or roll off. If she was lucky, she might even go undetected.

  When she opened a large enough hole, she peeked out. She could only see behind the cart, not who was driving it. It was not a road that she recognized, but that didn’t matter. Elizabeth knew where the cart was headed.

  Then she heard the approach of another cart behind them. It appeared to be a cartload of vine workers. No doubt headed to Orefados' vineyard. But perhaps they might help. She worked more frantically to widen the hole. But the cart passed them without noticing her.

  Elizabeth suddenly wondered why they were travelling so slowly that a cart weighed down with so many people might pass them so easily. Still, it gave her hope that she might leap off without injury.

  She had expanded the opening sufficiently for her exit, when the people at the front of the cart began to converse in the local Friulian dialect. She was surprised to hear that one of the speakers was a woman. She understood nothing of what they said, but she heard the name Berger and shivered. They must be speaking of poor Lenore. Was her friend still in danger from Orefados and his servants?

  Her two captors fell back into silence, as a few tiny raindrops landed on Elizabeth's cheek. They were so slight that she could have almost mistaken them for high humidity.

  She looked out at the inky black clouds boiling on the south horizon. Wind was moving them this way. They were in for a storm. Lightning flashed, followed by a clap of thunder. The two voices exchanged another brief dialogue, and the cart began to slow again.

  They must be approaching another corner. Elizabeth prepared herself to roll off of the cart. She saw another flash of lightning and, hoping to make use of the distraction, rolled for the back of the cart. She wriggled out of her sack and leaped off the back just as the thunder sounded.

  She did not look behind her, but ran for the bushes at the edge of the road. When she had hidden herself, she peered back at the cart. It was creeping around the corner, and she could see why it was moving so slowly. One of the wheels was wobbling. It might even fall off before they made their destination.

  She hoped it did not. If the two abductors had to stop for the wheel, they would be sure to notice she was gone and come looking for her. She had best keep moving. When the cart disappeared around the bend, she returned to the road and ran back the way she had come.

  Perhaps if she could make it to town, she could call on Lord Canterbourne. She had to get out of town as soon as may be, but she needed money for the journey. It was mortifying to ask for his assistance, but she had little choice.

  Then she saw the approach of a carriage. Was it Orefados? Elizabeth dove back into the cover of the scrubby forest.

  Chapter 39

  His carriage flew up the country road as quickly as Tonner could make it. This time Canterbourne knew with the same strange certainty that had struck him so often these past few days, that Miss Whitely was bound for Abbazia Pallida, or was already there.

  Could she have been a passenger on one of the farm carts he had seen when he left Orefados and went to call at the Whitelys? It was possible. It was equally possible that Orefados had lied and Miss Whitely had been there all along. But he believed that if she had been there, Orefados would have used the fact to make Canterbourne stay longer, to embroil him more deeply in his bizarre little intrigue.

  Suddenly Silverloo pressed his face against the window and whined. Canterbourne long since having learned to trust the little dog's instincts, signalled Tonner to stop

  Canterbourne's heart leapt when he saw Miss Whitely running from the brush onto the road. She was terribly scratched and wild looking, with a blood stain under her lips, but she appeared relatively unharmed and he had finally found her. He and Silverloo spilled out of the still-rolling carriage and ran to her, both completely indiscreet in their joy and relief.

  Canterbourne was too jubilant for jealousy at the fact that Silverloo was her first concern.

  “Oh Silverloo! Thank heavens you are safe!” As the dog leapt into her arms, she hugged him close and covered him with kisses.

  The smitten young lord only barely restrained himself from encircling both of them in his embrace. “Miss Whitely! Thanks be to God that we found you! But what has happened? I need not ask. That mad lord on the mountain must have done this!”

  She looked at him with tears in her eyes. He could no longer restrain himself and embraced her, kissing her tangled hair. “My dear, sweet Miss Whitely! How could anyone treat you so?”

  She clung to him with her one free arm and sobbed into his chest for a few moments. Then, with what he could tell was a great assertion of will, she calmed herself.

  She looked up at him with the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever beheld. “What you must think of me, my lord. Please forgive my utter abandonment of ceremony. Only I have been so persecuted since we last met.”

  She released him, but he could not quite bring himself to do the same. “Miss Whitely, far from seeing any omission in your manners, I am awed by your strength and honoured that you allowed me the liberty of this embrace. If anyone is in need of forgiveness, it is I.”

  He then released her, but took her hand and kissed it. “I, too, was carried away with my emotions. You cannot know how I have
been plagued with an unshakeable conviction that you were in grave danger. And ever since I found you were missing from your aunt and uncle's house, I have been searching for you.”

  She shivered. “My lord, how fortunate I am to have a friend in you.”

  Canterbourne’s heart swelled. “I hope, someday, I may claim to be your greatest friend. True, I will call upon every resource at my disposal to protect you.” He then remembered their circumstances. “But should we not remove to the carriage, Miss Whitely? I apologize that I have no chaperone, but I am willing to ride up top, for your sake.”

  “I believe I may rely upon your good character, my lord. Aside from Silverloo, you are my only protector here. And I confess I should feel safer, were your lordship to condescend to ride in the carriage with me.” She laughed through her drying tears. “I promise I shall take no liberties. My conduct shall be above reproach.”

  Canterbourne felt a surge of love for this brave young woman, who could jest at such a time. He had to make this lovely, captivating creature his wife. He guided her to the carriage, smiling broadly. “I have every confidence that Sir Silverloo's chaperoning will be sufficient protection to my reputation. But I warn you, he and I have become close. You may have to share him with me.”

  His heart fluttered as she replied, “I can think of no one I should deem more worthy of sharing Silverloo's affection, my lord.”

  Chapter 40

  Elizabeth admired the warm, handsome countenance of Lord Canterbourne as she relayed the story of her most recent woes.

  It frayed her nerves to relive the shock of her abductions, but at the same time her body thrilled his close presence. She could smell the faint scent of citrus and feel the warmth that exuded from him. Her heart flooded with feelings of belonging and safety.

  When she finished her story, Canterbourne’s eyes turned stormy. “I should flay that ruddy bastard for his effrontery.” His fist clenched the hilt of his sword.

  Elizabeth put a staying hand on his arm. “I think we must get as far away from him as possible.” She looked out the window with some alarm, for they were still travelling toward Orefados' lair.

  He seemed to sense her unease. “Do not be alarmed. We must find a little wider stretch of road where we can turn the carriage around and return to town, though I would not mind calling upon that ramshackle bounder so that I might run a sword through his heart.”

  Elizabeth laughed to hide her nervousness. “Your lordship thinks he has one? I should have supposed it had long since rotted away.”

  She blushed when she saw the look of rapturous admiration in Lord Canterbourne's face. Was it possible that he too felt what she was feeling? She could not risk losing him in a confrontation with Orefados. “But speaking seriously now, to risk further confrontation would not only put your lordship in danger. For whatever would I do if I did not have you to protect me?”

  Canterbourne moved closer to her. His arm was a hair's breadth from her own. Although her skin felt electrified by his close proximity, Elizabeth cast her gaze down. “My aunt and uncle have made it clear that they only wish to dispose of me and care not a jot for my happiness or wellbeing—though it pains me to speak ill of my nearest relatives. I hope your lordship does not think me an ungrateful charge.”

  “Nothing of the sort.” His breath was warm upon her ear. “I think you all that is amiable and praise-worthy.”

  He looked a little uncomfortable as he paused to think. Then he drew a deep breath and took Elizabeth's hand. “But speaking of nearest relatives, I should like to propose a remedy to your situation.”

  She blushed as she met his gaze. Could he be thinking of asking for her hand? Her heart soared but she tried to calm herself. She must not let her hope become so excited. “Indeed, my lord?” She hated the quaver in her voice. “I am eager to hear any suggestion of your lordship's.”

  Just then the carriage slowed to a halt. He smiled. “We must be about to turn around. We may have to disembark, let me check with my man.”

  He stepped out of the carriage, and Elizabeth was left to stew in the pot of conjectures that simmered in her brain. Had he been about to propose marriage, or something else? Surely he would not have allowed himself to be interrupted at such a moment, if a proposal was his intention.

  She did not like sitting alone in the carriage and finally stepped out with Silverloo, who had positively become her shadow.

  She paled at the sight before her. There in the road was the cart that she had only just escaped from. One wheel was laid out, and a man was standing by, uselessly wringing his hat. There was no sign of the woman Elizabeth had heard conversing with him, but she was certain it was the same cart that had been used in her abduction.

  The hairs stood up on her neck, and she was about to go to Lord Canterbourne, to put him on his guard, when she felt the shock of cold metal against her temple.

  “Now, Miss, why you cause so much trouble, heh? Your betrothed awaits you.”

  “Mrs. Grissoni!” Astonished, Elizabeth was only restrained from jumping back by the realization that the servant held a pistol to her head. What manner of hell was this place? Could no one be trusted? Were they all in the service of the mad Orefados—or all under his spell?

  Canterbourne heard the exchange and immediately moved toward the woman, but she pressed the gun tightly to Elizabeth's temple. He froze.

  “You are an English lover, heh?” The woman steered Elizabeth to the side of the road some distance from Canterbourne. “You no think 'Ah, if I can't have her, no one can!' You rather she live to marry another, no?”

  Canterbourne gave Mrs. Grissoni a look of pure, cold fury, but remained still. “I think you know very well that I should never risk a hair on this woman's head. But as for her marrying another, I do not see how—even in this backward outpost of civilization—a marriage transacted with a pistol to the bride's head could ever be valid.”

  “The man of the mountain no care about law and civilization. He is the god of magic and the master of the underworld. His brides stay married.”

  “His brides. So, in addition to his other charms, he is a polygamist? What a fine fellow. But I already knew he was an utterly mad scapegrace. You, however, I had thought to be a woman with a good heart, who would care for Miss Whitely, not betray her and treat her in this infamous manner.”

  Elizabeth could see he was baiting Mrs. Grissoni, stalling for time while he thought. Elizabeth wondered if he had some plan, if they might yet escape.

  Mrs. Grissoni scoffed at Canterbourne. “My man will tie you. You no resist, heh.” She wiggled the barrel of the pistol as though she might save the bullet and manually bore a hole into Elizabeth's brain.

  Silverloo was growling, but Elizabeth was thankful that he was otherwise staying out of their intrigues. She could not bear the thought of his being harmed. She would rather be shot herself.

  “Of course I will not resist. But,” Canterbourne dropped slowly to one knee, “Miss Whitely, as this may be my last opportunity, please allow me to say… What I meant to propose earlier was marriage. This is the stupidest of situations, my apologies, but now that you have compromised me during our unescorted ride in that carriage, will you consent to be my wife?”

  “Compromised?” Mrs. Grissoni did not sound pleased.

  Elizabeth ignored the woman and smiled. She thought she understood Lord Canterbourne's plan. And despite all the madness that was around her, her heart still thrilled at his proposal. “My lord, I am honoured and overwhelmed by your offer. I will happily consent to be your wife. And anyway,” she gave him the slyest of smiles, “I suppose we must be wed now. It is only right.”

  “True,” replied Canterbourne, gravely. “And we must consider the possibility of a child. I should not want to risk that my firstborn heir might be deemed illegitimate. We should marry right away.”

  “What is this? What he mean by compromised?” Mrs. Grissoni hissed.

  Elizabeth blushed with pleasure at the thought of being comp
romised by Lord Canterbourne, and she hoped this would help to pass their lie off as the truth. “It is,” she paused as if overcome with modesty, “not something I wish to discuss.”

  “You no feel this gun at your head? You discuss!”

  “Very well. It is only that we were overwhelmed with such joy and relief when we found each other. And we were all alone in the carriage.” Elizabeth tried to sound as though she were excusing herself and caught Canterbourne's eye. She beheld the stupid smile spreading over his face as she added, “And I am so violently in love with him. It just happened. It was natural for us to give in to our passions. Only now we must marry.”

  “Ah!” The woman spewed a stream of local words which, though she did not understand them, Elizabeth had no difficulty in identifying as a colourful array of profanities. “You mean you no maiden no more?! Stupid, stupid little whore!”

  “Well,” Elizabeth looked up to heaven as if to ask God to bear witness to the unfairness of the woman's insult, “it seems to me there is no call for such aspersions. We do intend to get married, after all.”

  “You marry no one but Bel—Lord Orefados!”

  Elizabeth shrugged, enjoying how her sang froid seemed to infuriate Mrs. Grissoni. “Ah well, you know him better than I, it would seem. But do you suppose his lordship would wish to marry a fallen woman, to run the risk of hatching a cuckoo's egg under his roof?”

  Mrs. Grissoni lowered her pistol and spun Elizabeth around so she could look her in the face. Elizabeth wondered if she had overdone it, for the woman seemed suspicious.

  As the treacherous servant squinted into Elizabeth's face, focussing upon her mouth with a cold gleam in her eye and a look of desperation, it occurred to Elizabeth that Mrs Grissoni's own visage was completely altered. Where was the kind smile? The eyes that before seemed warm and humorous, even expansive with kindness, now seemed pinched and shrewd and glittered with a sort of crazed longing Elizabeth had not seen there before.