Perilous Risk
Page 26
“Maria, I know you ordered Gerard to abduct Rebecca. You really shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’ve done nothing.”
“Don’t bother lying. Don’t waste your breath. You’re going to need it later.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll soon find out. Now where is Rebecca Howland?”
“I don’t know.”
“You must do better than that.”
“I truly do not know. Why would I know?”
“You are trying my patience, Maria.”
Maria’s eyes narrowed.
“What the devil were you doing, running away with Rebecca Howland?” Maria’s face became a mask of confused dismay. “She’s so old, do you have any idea?”
He nodded. “A couple of years older than you. Yes, I know.”
“I can’t believe you—”
“Don’t concern yourself over my relations with Mrs Howland. You have larger issues to worry over. You’ve made a huge mistake.”
“You’re wasting your time. If anyone has her, it would be the Earl of Barnet.”
“You really should not have done that.”
“Done what?”
“Involved Mrs Howland in this affair.” “I-I didn’t involve her. I didn’t tell Barnet about you and Rebecca.”
“Didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t want to cause any trouble for you. I didn’t tell him that I had asked you to watch her for me.”
“How considerate of you.”
“He would have been livid that you’d interfered. I couldn’t risk that.”
“Hmm,” Stephen said, rubbing his chin a moment. “He would have blamed you for involving me.”
“You were only supposed to keep an eye on her.”
“Maria, it was damned suspicious that you ‘had a feeling she’d make trouble’ yet you still allowed her near your husband.”
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying you murdered Saxby.”
“Stop changing the subject—you weren’t supposed to become involved with Rebecca Howland. And for you to spirit her out of London like that, when you knew I wanted her kept close by. It was so hard for my servant to trace you.”
“But you did find us?”
“No, if she hadn’t gone to Ruel, I wouldn’t have known where to look. I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to locate her; but then, of course she would run back to the Earl of Ruel.”
Stephen had to suppress his irritation. God, he’d been sloppy with Rebecca. Damnably sloppy. “It’s all done now.”
“I am quite f-fond of you. You know that.”
“Hush, now, Maria.” He examined the bounds on her wrists and ankles then looked up at the three elderly women. “Good job, ladies.”
The three grinned at him, beaming at him with something akin to adoring affection. Yet he knew never to turn his back on any one of them, even for a second. They were cruel women, capable of doing anything to gain an extra coin.
“She weren’t an easy one to bring down, my lord,” said the oldest of the women, Gisella.
“I didn’t imagine she would be. That’s why I sent the best,” he replied, injecting warmth into his voice that he didn’t feel. Inside, he was all ice, as he always was when working.
The three women’s grins widened.
“Is that ready?” He nodded at the hearth.
Maria, who had been watching in open-mouthed shock, now jumped, her eyes huge with alarm. “What do you mean to do, Stephen?”
Gisella pulled the poker from the flames. It was glowing red. She studied it and a grin split her face. “Looks ready to me.”
“Well, bring it here.”
Gisella approached her.
Stephen cupped Maria’s jaw. His hands were smooth, his touch gentle. “You have such unusual eyes. Such a pale shade of grey.”
Maria swallowed. “Oh please, what do you intend?”
“You really are a beautiful woman. It would be a shame if that beauty were to become marred. Disfigured.”
Gisella brought the red-hot poker into her line of sight.
“You’re mad! Mad! I am the Duchess of Saxby!”
He shook his head. “You are a duchess no more.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are no longer a duchess. You are my prisoner.”
“Your prisoner?” Arrogant disbelief rang in her voice.
“I have been bestowed with the power to dispense justice.”
“Justice? Justice for what?”
“For the murder of your husband, the Duke of Saxby.”
Maria gagged then her throat worked as she swallowed. “I am innocent.”
“We both know you’re lying.”
She shook her head. “No, no. He was ill. I tried to help him—I called in the best doctors, I sought the advice of those who knew how to help him.”
“You’re wasting your breath. Your fate is sealed. But you can save yourself from the noose.”
“I am a duchess! Damn you!” Despite her hauteur, her voice shook with fear. Her eyes were wider than ever and her face was whiter than caulk.
“Tonight you will be taken to a ship. And that ship will leave with the next tide. It will carry you to the East, where you will enter into slavery. For the rest of your life.”
“You have no right to do that!”
“No one shall stop me.”
“The Earl of Barnet will come after you. He will kill you for this.” He saw her throat move as she swallowed. “Kill you!”
“I shall deal with Barnet on my own.” Stephen looked over his shoulder. “Gisella, show Maria what you keep in your locket.”
Gisella reached into her bodice and pulled out a necklace that bore a large silver locket. She opened it.
A little ball of what looked like fuzzy, frayed thread lay there.
“I was there the day they guillotined King Louis.” Her speech was broken, accented. She took the little ball of fuzz and held it up. “I plucked this from his severed head as it rolled away from his body.” She chuckled, a cackling sound. “I plucked it with my own hands while his heart still beat.” She put the artefact back into the locket and tucked it safely into her bodice again.
Gisella took the poker back from Stephen.
“Maria, you have a choice to make,” he said in a quiet, calm tone. “You can enter into slavery with your beauty intact and take your chances. Or you may enter it, minus one of those lovely eyes.”
“Y-you cannot meant to muti…” Maria’s voice cracked.
“I’d take pleasure from it,” Gisella said, and she came very close and held the poker to Maria’s face.
Stephen knew how it must feel. The heat would sear into Maria. She would be able sense it coming closer, searing into her eye.
Maria screamed.
That’s how they did it, time and time again. He and his ragged ladies, they seduced and teased people with terror until they broke.
But one never wanted to push too hard, too fast. Especially with the gently reared. The spoiled nobility. It always took nobles more time to readjust their thinking to the change in their situation.
“That’s enough, Gisella.” Stephen put up a forestalling hand. “Let’s allow her to think about things.”
Gisella stepped back.
“What do you want from me?” Maria’s voice rose with hysteria. “I’ll do anything. Please, please don’t let her do it!”
“Firstly, I want two things from you, Maria.”
“Anything.”
“Tell me exactly how you killed Saxby.”
“I didn’t kill him. I am inno—”
Stephen motioned once more to Gisella.
Gisella brought the poker close to Maria’s face again.
Maria screamed. “Take it away! Take it away! It was foxglove!”
The heat was withdrawn.
Stephen continued. “Tell me now, where is Rebecca Howland?”
“I don’t know!”
Maria’s nostrils flared then she compressed her lips.
“Come now, this pretence insults us both.
“Barnet has her.”
“Where did he take her?”
“I don’t know!”
“I don’t believe you.”
She scowled at him. “Y-you can’t really mean to send me into slavery!” Her voice shook so hard, it was unrecognisable. “Things like that just don’t happen in our times.”
“Au Contraire, Maria. They do indeed happen.”
She gaped at him, as though at a loss.
“You might do very well there. You are very lovely.”
Her eyes grew wide. “I am soon to be old. Old!”
He nodded. “Yes, that’s true. But—”
“I was married before. As a young, near penniless girl. He held all the power. I do not want to be at some man’s beck and call like that ever again. I swore to myself it would never happen again.”
“I can’t help you now. I am sworn to uphold justice.”
“But I could confess, right?”
“They will hang you.”
“I should rather die than live disfigured or as a slave.”
“If you don’t answer me, you will leave here today, disfigured. Would you enjoy facing a public trial and your walk to the hangman’s noose, disfigured?”
Maria’s expression turned a tad greyish in colour. Stephen pressed his issue. “Now, Maria, I want you to tell me where Rebecca Howland is and exactly what Barnet wants from her.”
Rage lit Maria’s grey eyes. “Go to the devil!”
She spat at him. It landed on his cheek. He paused and retrieved his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the moisture off his cheek.
Today’s business would not go quickly. He’d known that.
He motioned for Gisella to come closer.
* * * *
Rebecca awoke with a start. She lay on the floor, on her side. The thick, raw feeling in her throat made her want to gag. She tried to swallow it back but her throat was so dry, it was hard.
She was choking!
She put her hand to her throat and swallowed and swallowed frantically.
Calm yourself. You’re not truly choking. You just need a drink of water. Badly.
A loud creak made her freeze.
Someone was coming… Alarm beat through her blood. Oh, no, it was Barnet’s ‘expert’ come to torture a confession out of her?
She ran her tongue over her lips, trying to wet the cracked, swollen flesh. And she listened closely.
Boots sounded on the stairs.
Oh God, oh God!
She took a slow, ragged breath, trying to ease her fast escalating heart’s beat. She scrambled to retrieve the jagged, sharp piece of the music box that she’d used to cut her wrists and ankles free. Then she held it as she would a weapon.
Barnet’s expert might be a formidable man. But she would fight!
A bright light shone and hurt her eyes. She shut them and licked her lips again, her empty stomach cramped painfully.
“Rebecca!” The boot falls came closer, they sounded faster, louder on the floor boards. Hands touched her. “Christ, Rebecca.”
At the sound of the familiar husky voice, she popped her eyes open and her jaw dropped. The first thing she focused on was the coal black hair falling over the man’s forehead. His long, elegant jaw line.
This was Barnet’s ‘expert’.
Stephen.
Her heart started pounding with sickening ferocity. No! She didn’t want to know. She closed her eyes and willed herself to lose consciousness again.
He is Barnet’s creature.
No! He was the man she loved. Loved more than anyone or anything else. If he was evil, if was to be her torturer—
I’d rather die than know. Just simply die right now.
He moved around, gently nudging her. Her back settled against his frame. Oh, he was so solid, so warm. Cool metal touched her lips. “Drink.” He tilted her head back a bit and wetness trickled into her mouth.
Relief poured through her and she went limp, letting the glass piece drop from her hand, slip from her fingers.
God, she was so thirsty! She’d never been so bloody thirsty in her life.
She tried to swallow but it was hard, her throat was so dry, so sore it closed up on her. She coughed and spat.
“Easy, love, easy.” He caressed her head.
Some fluid made it down her throat.
He gave her another small drink. “I daren’t give you much too quickly,” he said, his voice gentle. He took her hands and began to examine them. His inky-black brows drew together. He looked quite fierce. It would be easy to believe him to be a torturer in that moment.
A little quiver of apprehension drifted through her belly and she laughed weakly. “Barnet said he was sending an expert to me. Someone who would ‘tease’ the truth about Jon out of me.”
He looked up from inspecting her hands. His eyes were like beautiful blue lapis framed with thick onyx lashes and given extra radiance by the candle’s light.
“I thought…” She couldn’t keep emotion from making her voice shake. “Oh, Stephen I thought…” She broke into a sob.
He took her into his arms and crushed her head to his chest. “My darling,” he crooned huskily. “My darling girl.”
His scent of woods and spice surrounded her. The hardness of his muscled chest was a reassuring pillow for her head. A renewed and stronger feeling of safety settled over her. She let herself melt into him and she released all her built up fright and tension and sighed. The sound came out a little like a sob and a sigh.
He caressed her hair. “Shh…shh…it’s all right. I am here now. I shan’t allow you to come to any harm.”
His voice was so tender. She rubbed her cheek against the slightly scratchy wool of his coat, nestling as close as she could to his solid strength.
Then he suddenly went rigid. “Someone is coming is here?”
“Yes,” she said hoarsely.
“We have to leave. Immediately.” He gathered her into his arms. “I’ll be as gentle with you as I can but we have to leave now.”
Icy prickles swept over her scalp. “Barnet says he is an expert at torture.”
“Yes. Robertson, he is Barnet’s creature. And, yes, he is an expert at applying measured cruelty.”
His tone sent another wave of chills through her. “Oh God.”
He caressed her hair. “Do not worry. I will get you out of here. He will never touch you.”
Chapter Fifteen
A shout from outside the carriage startled Rebecca awake, she opened her eyes and caught Stephen slipping something into his mouth. Another pill? She noted how pale he’d become since they had begun to move, as well as the grim line of his mouth. Upon reaching his carriage, Stephen had fed Rebecca some bread and a little cheese. God, the food had tasted better than anything she’d ever eaten. He’d also given her a flask of coffee laced heavily with Scotch whisky.
After this brief repast, she’d become a little faint and had to lie down upon the carriage seat. He had covered her with a blanket then he rapped on the forward wall. The rocking motion of the carriage as it had begun to move lulled her further into sleep.
But now a jolt of alarm for him brought her sleepy mind fully awake, and she lay there watching him a long while before his grim expression eased.
Earlier, Stephen had taken out some papers from his satchel. He’d been reading them intently as she’d drifted off. Now, the papers lay forgotten in his lap and he was staring out the window.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
He glanced at her, his expression startled as though he’d forgotten where he was. His pupils were so dilated, she wondered how large of a dose of his opiate he had taken. Another jolt of alarm roiled through he
r.
“I thought you were asleep.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
Tenderness softened his expression. “You keep thinking of what happened?”
“It is not far from my thoughts but no, that’s not why I can’t sleep.”
“Why can’t you sleep?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
She burned to ask him about his health, but would he simply put her off? She took a deep breath and struggled for a soft way to press the matter. “You look a little pale, Stephen.”
“I did not sleep well parted from you. The questions kept tormenting my mind. What they were doing with you? Would I get to you in time?” His look turned so serious. “I blame myself.”
“Don’t—it was all my fault for disobeying you. For distrusting you.”
He shook his head. “I knew you were having trouble trusting me. I understood your reasons. I should have made sure you were not able to escape me.”
She didn’t know what to say. For she knew that mere loss of sleep from worry or misguided guilt on his part wasn’t enough to make a virile man turn white as alabaster—or compel him to take large doses of opiates. But she also saw that obstinate finality in his eyes. She knew if she pressed him further about his pallor, he wouldn’t answer her truthfully. If she continued to ask and he refused, she would become hurt.
She might very well become angry.
And she didn’t want to be vexed with him. Not at this moment. So she let the matter rest. For the present.
She pulled herself up to sit.
He came to her and wrapped the blanket about her shoulders. “You must be drained, my darling, after such an ordeal.”
His scent wafted up from the blanket and she could picture that he had been riding in the carriage, coming to rescue her. And what? He had been ill and feeling cold? Why else would a healthy man in his prime need a blanket in his carriage? Another jolt of fear struck her heart. He was so ill and yet his first thoughts were for her well-being. She looked up at him. “Oh, Stephen, I am so sorry.”
He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “What are you sorry about?”
“For distrusting you.”
His expression opened. There was no other way to describe how his eyes brightened; it was as though a veil or a mask had fallen away, allowing her to see deeper into him than she ever had before. He was all Stephen. The same young man she had known years ago in the Dragoons. How could she have ever thought him otherwise?