Bittersweet Obsession

by Tess Oliver

  “Perhaps we should keep her hidden from him then,” Angel suggested.

  “That is ridiculous, Angel,” Jane said. “Am I to hide in the shadows and corners so I can avoid being seen by Zander?”

  “Well, when you put it that way . . .”

  “Exactly.” Jane picked up a warm biscuit. “Besides, I’m not afraid of him. He is quite harmless.”

  “He is not harmless, Jane.” Angel’s tone hardened. “And you must see to it that you are never alone with the man . . . ever.”

  Jane blinked up at him. The expression in his face warned her not to debate his demand. “Fine.”

  Once the fever had gone, Jane found that she felt better than ever and refused to convalesce any longer. Staying in bed gave her too much time to dwell on the awful past that came back to her in unwanted flashes. She tried her hardest to suppress the bleakness the memories brought with them, and she found the more time she spent in the presence of Angel Van Ostrand, the brighter the world around her seemed. Still she did not allow him the liberties he’d taken with her before. And while he made a point of constantly touching her when he was near and while she would catch an occasional heated, lingering gaze from his brown eyes, he did not take advantage of her. Of course, she yearned for his touch more than ever.

  ***

  Jane settled in front of the fire in the drawing room. Dr. Van Ostrand had retired early, and Zander was presumably in the kitchen taking part in his new found hobby— drawing. The giant man’s face still brightened when Jane stepped into a room with him, but his dangerous obsession seemed to have ended. In the past few days a pleasant calmness had filled the house.

  Jane didn’t need to look up from her book to know that Angel had stepped into the room. The man had the amazing ability to walk soundlessly across any floor, and in seconds he was standing behind her. He leaned over her and the tips of long black hair brushed her cheek.

  “I hope you aren’t enjoying that book too much, Sweeting,” his deep voice caressed her ear. Before she could answer a strip of soft cloth was being tied around her eyes. She reached up to stop him, but he took hold of her hand. “I have something to show you,” he said.

  “And precisely how will a blindfold allow me to see it?”

  “Can you see anything?” His mouth was pressed to her ear as he spoke.

  “Nothing at all.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Not the slightest bit,” she laughed.

  “Well, you’ll need to trust me this time.” He took hold of her arm and guided her from the drawing room to the yard.

  The cold night air swirled around her. “I don’t have my cloak.”

  “I’ve taken care of that.”

  Jane heard the clip-clop of a horse walking toward them. “Are you expecting me to ride with a blind—” She gasped when Angel grabbed hold of her waist and sat her on the back of what she was certain had to be the wagon bed. The wheels shifted as he hopped up next to her. She clutched his arm as the wagon lurched forward. “Are we going somewhere far away?”

  Angel’s heavy arm went around her shoulders. “Not far . . . but too far to walk blindfolded in the snow.”

  The wheels of the wagon crunched along rough ground, and Jane held tightly to Angel’s arm. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been blindfolded before.”

  “No? I’m growing rather fond of the idea.”

  “I’m feeling completely vulnerable at the moment.”

  “Another point of merit,” he added suggestively.

  “Did I mention my lack of trust?”

  “You mentioned it. And I don’t blame you. I’m not completely sure that I trust myself when it comes to you.” There was a slight hitch in his words as if he holding himself back from something.

  The wagon stopped abruptly and a familiar scent filled the night air. “I smell candles.” Then another familiar scent surrounded her. “And the ocean.” She knew the northern end of the estate was bordered by steep cliffs jutting out over the sea, but she’d never had the opportunity to see them.

  “Very perceptive.” Angel jumped off the wagon and took hold of her waist. “We’re almost there.” He tapped the side of the wagon. “Come back in an hour, John.”

  “Shouldn’t your stable boy be on his way home at this hour?” Jane asked.

  “I paid him extra to stay late.”

  “Now I’m truly curious.”

  “So the blindfold and the nighttime journey hadn’t raised your curiosity but handing over a few extra shilling to the stable hand roused it?”

  Jane grinned. “Yes, that was silly of me.”

  Angel held tightly to her arm as they trudged through the snow to their mysterious destination. The air warmed as the scent of candles grew stronger. She could sense a glowing light through the linen fabric tied around her eyes. Angel stopped her.

  “Lift your foot. There are two steps.” They walked across what Jane surmised was a wood plank floor. The scent of melting wax was nearly overwhelming, and she could feel the warmth of numerous flames flickering around her. Angel walked her forward then stopped. She could feel the heat of his body at her back. It was even more comforting than the heat of the candles. His fingers pulled at the blindfold, and it fell away from her eyes.

  She smiled. “Angel,” she whispered in awe, “it is breathtaking.” They stood in an ornate, wrought iron gazebo adorned with hundreds of lit candles. The fairytale like structure was perched at the top of a small bluff that looked out over the ocean. And, on this night, the only thing that glowed brighter than the candles was the round, golden moon above. The large yellow orb reflected off the silver crested waves below. A sea breeze curled up over the sides of the cliff and blew through the gazebo. The candle flames danced in perfect precision as the breeze swirled around them and scurried away.

  “It is truly magnificent, Angel.”

  “My mother had the gazebo built years ago. She used to love to come up here and paint.”

  “I think I would take up painting if I had a view like this to put on canvas.” Jane turned around. Angel was gazing down at her. “Thank you for showing me this.” She peered around at the candles. “It must have been hard to light all these.”

  He grinned and lifted his hand. There were red burn marks on every knuckle. “Lighting them was slightly painful but . . . after seeing the expression on your face just now, I’d say it was worth it. Jane,” he said quietly “I know you’d prefer me to keep my distance, but . . .” He pressed his hand against the side of her face. His palm felt cool against her flame warmed skin. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his hand. His mouth lightly grazed hers, and she parted her lips instinctively.

  She could tell herself over and over again that she would keep her distance from him, but truthfully, she yearned for his touch. His mouth covered hers and she moaned softly. Instantly she was pulled into a near state of delirium lost in the intimacy of Angel’s kiss. As her body wilted against his hard chest she willed herself to pull away.

  She stepped out of his reach and he didn’t stop her. She spun around and faced out toward the ocean hoping the ocean breeze would cool her heated skin and slow her pulse. A long strand of hair came loose from her hasty chignon, and she pushed it behind her ear and hugged herself against the misty air and the loneliness she felt in leaving his arms. “I’m sorry, Angel, but after the other night— I don’t think I can endure anymore disappointment these days.”

  He moved behind her, and she fought the urge to turn around and fall into his arms.

  “You have no reason to believe me, Jane, but I promise never to disappoint you again.”

  Hundreds of flames wavered in the rich glow of the moonlit night. It must have taken him hours to set the candles and light them and yet she could still not forget the hurt.

  She turned to face him. “What was it, Angel?” She could feel her voice crack but she stood straight and strong beneath his gaze. “Why did you send me away that night?”

  He turne
d his face and stared out at the endless darkness. She could see his throat move as he swallowed. “It’s complicated, Jane.” He looked at her again. “Let’s just say I was trying to sort out my own confusion that night.” He moved closer and though it seemed a struggle for him, he kept his hands down at his sides. “But it didn’t take me long to discover that there was no confusion. I know exactly what I want. I want you, Jane. There is no one else on this earth for me but you.”

  Jane peered up at him and smiled. “That is a good thing I suppose because the more I remember about my previous life, the more I come to the conclusion that I have absolutely no place else to go.” The sound that bubbled from her lips fell somewhere between a laugh and a cry.

  His strong arms circled her and she pressed against him. She stood there a long while basking in the warmth of a hundred lit candles, the salty fragrance of the sea, and the security of Angel’s arms.

  Chapter 25

  Angel stopped short of colliding with Ellie as he walked out of his bedchamber. “I nearly ran you down, Ellie. Why are you lurking about in the dark hallway?” The morning sun had not penetrated the interior of the house but even in the weak light Angel could see the angst in her expression. Angel’s thoughts went right to Jane. “What is it? Is Jane all right?”

  “Yes, yes the girl is fine. The doctor is in a bad way, and he is in need of his medicine again.”

  “It seems he’s drinking his medicine like water these days. If the pain in his head doesn’t kill him, the laudanum certainly will.”

  “Shall I have John hitch the wagon?”

  Angel glanced down the hallway to Jane’s door. “No, Titus needs to get out. I’ll go. Is Jane up?”

  “I was just about to knock on her door to see if she needed anything.”

  “Do me a favor, Ellie, and wait until I’ve left before waking her.” He knew Jane would want to travel with him. She looked longingly at the stables and horses every day, and he could think of no reasonable explanation to give her for not going into the village. As much as he would have loved having her take a ride with him, he could not take the risk of her being seen. He’d spent all night awake with thoughts of Jane and while plans that developed during a long night of bad sleep usually seemed absurd in the morning, his plan still seemed rational. He would figure a way to leave Greystock Manor and take Jane with him. They could travel north to Scotland or even west to America. One thing was certain, he was constantly in danger of losing her if she remained in England. His feelings for Jane had grown so strong, he’d managed to push the thoughts of how she’d come into his life to the back of his mind. Perhaps it was time that he accepted his father’s genius in discovering the true route to immortality. All he knew was that when he looked at the girl, he was certain there was no creature on Earth that was more full of life than Jane.

  It was early, yet the village was already awash with noise and activity. In fact it dawned on Angel that it was more lively than usual. The shade was still drawn on the apothecary’s shop. Angel stabled Titus and decided to stop in at Marty’s to see what all the excitement was about while he waited for Bitterman to open up.

  Marty washed glasses in a tub of water as Angel approached the counter. He looked up momentarily from his task. “Van Ostrand, where’ve you been, stranger?”

  “I guess I still had a good gin supply at home.” Angel glanced around the inn. Several men, who he knew by face but not by name, leaned over a table deep in discussion. He looked over at Marty. “Seems like I’ve missed something in my absence.”

  Marty put down the glass he held and walked over to Angel. A small grin crossed his face. “There’s been a murder,” he said excitedly.

  “That’s obvious considering the delight in your expression.”

  Marty made a pathetic attempt to wipe the enthusiasm from his face. “You’re right, Van Ostrand, a murder is serious business. I guess it’s just been a slow winter around here so a bit of news, even terrible news, has everyone abuzz.” Marty lifted a bottle from behind the counter and held it up.

  Angel waved it off. “Too early even for me, but I will have some of that swill you call coffee. I’m going to assume that the victim was not anyone who lived here in the village.”

  “No.” Marty shook his head as he poured Angel a cup. “That would be tragic.”

  Angel smiled into his steaming cup. “Right.”

  Marty returned to his tub of water. “We’ve only heard rumors, mind you, but apparently some wealthy landowner was traveling this direction and his coach was held up by highway men. They shot him and his coachmen before ransacking the carriage.”

  “Sounds like we’ll all have to watch our backs when traveling.” Angel looked around. “Where’s Ruby?”

  “Still in bed, I imagine.” Marty leaned closer. “I think she’s got her sights set on that blacksmith. Poor girl is looking to settle down.”

  “I hope she gets what she wants. She deserves it.”

  Marty picked up a towel to dry the line of glasses he’d just washed. “I understand your father has a relative visiting.”

  Angel nearly choked on his sip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where did you hear that?” But he already knew the answer. Lettie had let it slip while in the apothecary’s shop, and Bitterman never held his tongue when he had news.

  Marty’s brow wrinkled as if he was thinking about it.

  “Never mind, I think I already know. It was my father’s great niece, but she’s already left town.” Angel had found a way to squelch the gossip and let people think that the visitor was long gone. He would make certain to mention it to Bitterman as well.

  “You know we’ve had a couple of different strangers pass through town looking for a missing girl.”

  “Is that right?” Angel feigned nonchalance but knowing someone was out looking for Jane worried him plenty.

  “Some of the village folk were saying that the description matched your father’s niece perfectly.”

  Angel took a long sip of coffee then lowered the cup to the counter. “And how would the village folk know that when they’ve never seen her?”

  “Well, both strangers mentioned a girl with violet eyes and auburn hair— same coloring as your relative.”

  Angel forced a laugh. “Then I’m afraid you’ll all be disappointed to hear that my father’s niece has blonde hair and blue eyes.” Angel had grown weary of the conversation. He hoped that he’d put the talk and speculation to rest for good, and he reminded himself never to send Lettie out on an errand again. He dropped his coins on the counter and nodded to Marty but something struck him as he was leaving. He turned back to Marty. “Did you say there were two strangers looking for the same girl?” He knew well enough that his question would be counterproductive to his quest to stop the gossip.

  Marty stacked the newly washed glasses behind the counter. “They came at different times. The first one was smartly dressed, and the second came with two other men just last night around midnight. The three of them looked like they’d just crawled out of a pig’s mud hole. Nasty looking men with temperaments to match. I served them a couple of drinks and breathed a sigh when they left without causing trouble. I saw them ride out of town an hour ago. Wouldn’t be surprised if they were the highway men—”

  Angel grabbed the front of Marty’s shirt and he dropped the glass he was holding. It shattered on the wood floor. The innkeeper’s face blanched white.

  “And they were looking for the girl?”

  “Y— yes,” Marty stuttered. “At least that’s what Bitterman said. He was sitting at the back of the room having his pint when the men sat down at his table.”

  Angel released his shirt and raced out to the livery to retrieve Titus. Marty walked out of the inn and several customers followed. They watched with open mouths as Angel kicked Titus into a full gallop and rode off.

  Angel leaned low over his horse’s neck and pressed the animal’s sides with his boot heels. Icy wind burned his eyes as and the lan
dscape blurred as they raced toward Greystock. He was not completely certain what he would find back home, but his intuition told him that if Bitterman had run his mouth off in the usual manner, the men were headed toward Greystock.

  His sight was blurred by the cold air but he immediately recognized his stable boy riding toward him on their cart horse. The lad’s face was drawn in fright. His horrified expression sent Angel’s heart racing.

  “John, what is it?” he asked, dreading the response.

  They boy stopped to gulp some much needed air and pointed back toward the manor. “I was just returning to the estate when I saw three strange men slip into the stables. I saw their horses standing in the empty field south of the road.”

  Angel kicked Titus ahead and John followed. They stopped in a copse of trees a good distance from the stables. There was no movement in the yard and the house was quiet. Angel slid off the saddle and handed his reins to John. “Stay here and don’t move.”

  “But Master Van Ostrand,” John said anxiously, “there were three of them and they looked dangerous.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Just stay a safe distance away.” He had left this morning giving no thought at all to carrying a pistol. He’d intended only on a short ride to the village and back. Never could he have imagined this scenario. As he walked toward the stables with no real plan except to destroy the men he assumed to be Jane’s previous attackers, he stopped long enough to wrench his chopping ax free from the stump. He swung it casually over his shoulder as if he merely headed to the forest to chop down a tree. The power of rage pumped through every muscle in his body as he thought back to the cold, bleak afternoon when he’d stared down at the delicate, lifeless body on his father’s table, a hole ripped in her side.

  Faint voices drifted out of the barn as he neared it. One man leaned up against the wall with a view of the house while the other two stood in the center of the building obviously waiting for the watchman’s cue.

  The three men looked up wide-eyed and speechless as Angel stepped into the open doorway with the ax still leaning across his shoulder. He nodded. “Gentlemen.” The man at the door moved first. Angel swung the ax off his shoulder and rammed the wooden handle into the man’s skull. His victim crumpled to the ground as a bullet ricocheted off the wall behind him. The horses pawed and snorted nervously in their stalls. The man holding the pistol stared down at the smoking barrel apparently dumbfounded by the prospect that he’d missed a target that was standing directly in front of him. Angel walked toward him and the man backed up hastily trying to steady the gun in his hands. Angel swung his menacing weapon. It whirred through the air and the back side of the blade landed with a sickening thud on the man’s shoulder just as another bullet was fired off.