Silent Dreams

by Monroe, Jennifer

  “A few more weeks,” Mr. Lambert replied. “We are on the hunt for more property. One day we would like to live there. Paris is far better than Rumsbury.” He said the last with a laugh, but William narrowed his eyes. “My leaving for Paris for a month upsets you?” the man asked in surprise.

  “I wonder if you wish to take your daughter with you,” William said in an even tone. “We have done many business deals together, but this is your daughter. She is far more valuable to me than sheep or fabrics.”

  The man laughed and opened a drawer in his desk. “We have been friends for many years. I suspected you would believe such a thing, so I prepared a document to seal the deal.” He passed a folded piece of parchment to William, who looked over it, a smile forming on his lips almost immediately.

  “You already signed it?” William asked in disbelief. “I could go straight to Scarlett Hall from here and take her away with me without paying you a farthing more than what I gave you now.”

  Mr. Lambert nodded. “You could. However, I believe that our friendship would take precedent over your desires, at least for the time being.” He placed his forearms on the desk and leaned forward. “That document grants the sale of my daughter’s hand to you. It is a gesture of good faith, much like the deposit you gave me.”

  William smiled and placed the parchment into his coat pocket. “Forgive me. I have been worried as of late concerning the funds, and that worry has impeded my judgment.”

  “Such issues can bring about great concerns,” Mr. Lambert said. “However, be pleased to know that Annabel will grant you your every desire—and the envy of every man in England.”

  William tilted his head at the man. “Tell me, Lambert. Why do you care nothing for the girl? She has spent more time at the home of your brother than she has at your own.”

  Mr. Lambert smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Joanna and I had hoped for a boy. What we received we never wanted. Annabel is far happier with her cousins than here with us. As to the selling of her hand? I figure it is what is best not only for her, but for my coffers, as well. Now, unless you prefer to spend the remainder of the day discussing my daughter, I suggest we talk of other matters.”

  William frowned. “But you have no heir. You do not have a title to pass on but at least you have a vast wealth to leave behind. I cannot help but wonder why you have not made the proper steps to remedy the situation as I have.”

  A tiny smile played at the corner of Mr. Lambert’s lips. “Who is to say that I have not?” he asked with a wink, and William barked a laugh.

  The door opened, making William start, and Mrs. Lambert entered the room. He stood and gave her a diffident bow. The woman always conducted herself as an obedient wife, or at least she did when in his presence, and William hoped her daughter had also inherited such a wonderful trait.

  How she entered the room today, however, made him wonder why she now had broken her discipline.

  Mr. Lambert gave his wife a stern glare. “You are never to enter my office while I am conducting business; you know this.”

  “Oh, Silas,” the woman said as she hurried over to the desk, a letter in her hand, “this came from Eleanor. The messenger said it was urgent.”

  “Let me see that.” Mr. Lambert grabbed the folded parchment from his wife’s hand and tore it open.

  “What is it?” Mrs. Lambert wrung her hands in clear distress. When Mr. Lambert did not respond, she gave him an urgent “Silas?”.

  Mr. Lambert threw the letter on the desk, his hands shaking. “It appears our daughter has been kidnapped and is being held for ransom.”

  “No!” Mrs. Lambert gasped before collapsing to the floor in a heap, her husband rushing to her side.

  Many thoughts went through William’s mind as he considered what he had just heard. “What will we do?” he demanded, wishing Mrs. Lambert would stop her incessant wailing. He could not hear himself think! “We have an arrangement.”

  “I know that, you fool!” Mr. Lambert snapped. “I shall leave for Scarlett Hall at once. How could this woman allow something like this to happen?” He helped his wife stand. At least she was no longer sobbing. “Do not worry,” he said to William. “Once she is returned, I will send word. Our agreement is still in place.”

  Without so much as a farewell, Mr. Lambert escorted his wife from the room.

  William stalked out to the foyer. Not only had Mr. Lambert been outright rude expecting William to see himself out, his precious Annabel had been taken away. He hoped the person that held her did not spoil his bride-to-be.

  For a moment, he considered joining Mr. Lambert on his journey to Scarlett Hall so he could assist in her return. However, a new thought caused him to smile. Reaching into his coat pocket, his fingers trailed over the document tucked away there. He had every right to Annabel and would spend the next weeks securing the remaining funds. If the woman was somehow spoiled when she was returned, he would simply have to renegotiate the terms. How could he pay a premium price for used goods?

  ***

  Eleanor braced herself for the arrival of her brother-in-law, whom she expected at any moment. She had considered not informing the man of the disappearance of Annabel, but when he sent a letter requesting to see his daughter, Eleanor had no other choice.

  She had sent Forbes to search for Annabel three days prior, and as of yet, she had received no word. Each passing day was torment, and she prayed her niece would be returned to her unharmed. She was willing to pay anything to see that happen, and her financial adviser was seeing to the money collection even now.

  The sound of an approaching carriage sent her hurrying to the window. Silas’s carriage stopped in front of the house, and the man exited the carriage.

  Summoning her courage, Eleanor straightened her back and exited the house. Although the weather was quite warm, the news she had to share with Silas was anything but.

  Silas helped a sobbing Joanna from the carriage, and Eleanor readied herself for the coming storm.

  “Where is my daughter?” Silas demanded as he hurried Joanna to the portico. “Who took her and when is she to be returned?”

  “If you give me a moment to explain…”

  Silas grabbed hold of her arms and shook her. “You fool! What has happened to my daughter?”

  Eleanor kept back a grimace from the pain and attempted to free herself. Once she did, she took a step back. “A letter arrived nearly three weeks ago. In it were demands for her safe return.”

  “Three weeks!” Silas shouted. “You waited three weeks to inform me of this travesty? How dare you!” Joanna placed a hand on her husband’s arm, and he drew a deep breath. “Where is this letter?”

  Eleanor pulled the letter from her reticule, and Silas snatched it from her hand.

  As he read, his wife, no longer weeping but with a fierce expression on her features, said, “We have entrusted Annabel to your care for years,” she said in her quiet voice as she dabbed at the tears in her eyes with a kerchief. “However, it seems that Charles was right about you; you were always an unfit mother. You disgust me.”

  “Quiet, woman!” Silas snapped. Joanna did as her husband bade, and when he finished the letter, he said, “I presume you are already gathering the required funds?”

  “I am,” Eleanor replied. “However, it is much more difficult than it would seem. You of all people should know this.”

  “But will you have it in time?”

  Eleanor nodded. “I certainly hope so, but I cannot be certain.” Although this statement was true, it was not the entire story. Arrangements had been made with the bank and an old friend of Charles to purchase one of the more lucrative businesses, but the man had not decided if he wanted it or not. What she failed to mention, and she would not if she did not have to, was that she was certain that Forbes would find Annabel before the appointed time and therefore would need no ransom.

  “You have more jewels than the King has on his crown,” Silas said. “I imagine you can sell those to secu
re the funds.”

  Eleanor nodded. “I have considered that as a means to pay, among others. However, even if I sold every piece of jewelry I own, and that of all my daughters, I still will not have enough to cover the required amount.”

  Silas thrust the letter back to her. “Tell me,” he glanced around, “where is your faithful butler? I do not see him, and the man is always nearby.”

  “Forbes is away on personal business,” Eleanor replied, doing everything in her power to keep her tone even. How she despised this man! What business was it of his to inquire about her butler? Then she frowned. “Do you mean to imply that he has something to do with this?”

  Silas smirked. “He was there, Eleanor. I suspect him because he is simply a butler, even if he is close to you.”

  “You do not know of what you speak,” Eleanor said in a low threatening tone. She pursed her lips to calm herself; precious time could not be spent arguing with this man. “Nonetheless, the point remains; Annabel has been kidnapped, and I will need your help in acquiring the funds.”

  Joanna turned and headed back to the carriage, shaking her head.

  “My help?” he asked with a cynical laugh. “You are responsible for her safety when she is here, and you failed, not I.” He took a step forward, and Eleanor went to take a step back only to be stopped by one of the tall columns. “You will see my daughter safely returned, but do not expect me to help in this matter. The fault is yours, Eleanor, and therefore it is for you to pay for it!”

  Eleanor widened her eyes in disbelief. “Are you listening to yourself?” she asked. “Whoever took Annabel may kill her. Does her life not matter to you?”

  “In matters of principal such as this,” her brother-in-law said through clenched teeth, “no, it does not.” He smirked and looked her up and down. “It is a pity Charles married you, for I would have made a far better husband and taught you respect.”

  “You disgust me,” Eleanor replied with a glare. “Your daughter is missing, and you speak with no regard for your dead brother.”

  “And you disgust me,” Silas said, gripping her arm until Eleanor winced. “You had a simple life. All you had to do was make certain your daughters were respectable.”

  Eleanor’s anger flared. “They are respectable. All of them are ladies and are held in high regard.”

  Silas released her once again, but he did not step back. “Isabel married a duke who is lame. Juliet has run off with the stable boy.” His laughter made her skin pebble. “And my precious Annabel, who was left in your care, is now missing and possibly dead. What does that say for your skills in bringing up respectable women?”

  “Do not say such things! She is not dead. She will be back.”

  “See that she is, for if any harm comes to her, you need not worry about ransom demands. I will tell everyone what happened that day myself!”

  Eleanor’s stomach knotted. “You would never do such a thing! It would destroy your brother’s children. Your own name would be ruined!”

  Silas sighed. An exaggeration of a sigh. “Gather the money, Eleanor. Lord Agar is awaiting his bride, but he will not wait long.” He turned and walked away.

  Eleanor clenched her fist. Neither Silas nor Joanna cared one whit about Annabel, and the man’s words since his arrival confirmed it once again. For not once did he speak of worry for her safety, but rather only the inconvenience it was causing him and Lord Agar.

  As the carriage pulled away, Eleanor had to support herself against the column. “Do not worry, Annabel,” she whispered as if her message would reach the young woman, “I shall have you back here safe with me.” Then she thought of Lord Agar, and of Silas. “And no one will stop that!”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The cottage had lost most of the aroma of smoke the day after Annabel had attempted to cook. During the night, a storm rolled in and rain now beat against the panes.

  “We are nearly out of firewood,” Edward said.

  Annabel turned from the window to find Edward standing in the middle of the room in his shirtsleeves, an axe propped upon his shoulder. Never had she found him more appealing. “I should be gone no longer than a couple of hours,” he continued. “Three at the most. When I return, will you have a plate of bread and cheese waiting for me?”

  “I could attempt to cook something,” she said hopefully, but when Edward raised an eyebrow, she laughed. “Oh, very well. I will have the food ready for you.” An idea came to her and she walked up to him, rose onto the tips of her toes, and kissed his cheek.

  He grimaced. “What was that for?”

  “It is a proper way to bid someone farewell,” she said with a small smile. “At least, I used to watch my aunt do the same for my uncle.” Her cheeks ignited, and panic welled inside her. “I did not mean to imply that you are my husband, of course.” Blasted tongue!

  Edward chuckled. “You have a strength inside you that you do not realize. However, you must be bold in your decisions, sure in them. Stop doubting the choices you make. For example, if you wish to kiss my cheek again, then you may. Do not do it with doubt in your heart but rather with firm determination.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Do you say this in order to gain another kiss?” she asked, giving him her most innocent look.

  What she expected was laughter or teasing, but to her surprise, he shook his head, his dark curls bouncing. “I do not. I tell you this so you may be the woman you truly are, not the one you believe yourself to be.”

  His words perplexed her as she followed him to the door. The moment the door opened, stinging rain pelted them.

  “It is cold out there,” she said. “Unusual for this time of year.”

  Edward turned. “It is, but not unheard of. Now, I will not return to an empty house, will I?”

  She smiled. “No. I will remain here.”

  “Good. Then I shall return soon.”

  For a moment, she imagined him a brave knight, the axe he carried a weapon. A fierce wild beast roamed the countryside and it was he who would defeat whatever threat he encountered.

  “Best the beast,” she whispered as he disappeared around the side of the cottage. “You can defeat anything.”

  Sighing, she closed the door and went to the table beneath the window in the sitting room. As she took a seat in one of the chairs, she considered his words concerning her strength. He had been right, for like the kiss she had given him, she had doubted her own actions. In fact, the more she thought of it, the more she understood what he had said.

  The truth was, Annabel had spent her entire life attempting to appease her parents. She had never felt the need to do so with her aunt or cousins, but it was her parents from whom she wanted affirmation. Did not all children wish the same?

  However, even as she thought these things, she decided it was time to change her ways. Not only would she call upon her strength in times of trouble, but she would do so in every choice she made. The decision to remain here rather than attempt an escape had been made without doubt. Surely if she could remain with the man who had kidnapped her, perhaps other decisions in life would come easier.

  Feeling not only happy, but also confident, Annabel walked to the tiny kitchen and took out a bottle of wine. She poured herself a glass and took a sip, enjoying the fruity flavor. Sighing, her thoughts returned to Edward. What would happen to her once the ransom was paid? What would happen to them? Their relationship, if one was to call it that, would end, and rightly so. Yet, the thought of that did not sit well with her.

  Be he Don Ricardo Sánchez Ramírez or Lord Edward Wolcott, Annabel was unconcerned. What concerned her were her feelings toward the man who resided in her heart. Was what she felt admiration? Affection? Or could it be that she had found the man to whom she would gift her heart? The man she would come to love?

  ***

  Edward hoisted the axe above his head and brought it down with a loud smack on the fallen tree he had encountered in his search for proper firewood. He had been forced to walk past
the creek to a small outcropping of trees in order to find something worthy, and now that he had chopped the log into smaller sections, he was worried about carrying such a load back to the cottage in the downpour.

  When he had left the house, a man across the road was stabling two work horses, and Edward considered hiring the animals to transport the logs back to the cottage. He could chop and stack the wood outside the house, which would be easier all the way around. However, he had no desire to speak to those who resided in the surrounding cottages and therefore pushed the idea from his thoughts.

  Rain continued to fall from the gray clouds, and although it was now only a steady mist, he was completely soaked and his shirt stuck to his body. He should have worn a coat, but he had chopped enough wood to know that he would have taken it off midway through his work, so why bother wearing it in the first place?

  “The things you do for a pound,” he mumbled. The words did not sit well with him. He thought of Annabel’s willingness to help, and how that willingness had nearly burned down the cottage. The kiss she gave him had raised feelings buried for years, and for a moment, he had considered what it would be like to be married to the woman.

  “You thought the same of Mary,” he said as he brought the axe down once more, pushing all his frustration into that strike.

  ‘But she is not Mary,’ a tiny voice inside argued.

  Anger burned in him, and he added it to his work. Splinters flew and the axe head became lodged in the wood. Grunting, he wiggled the handle and freed the axe once more.

  Annabel may not be Mary, but it made for a good excuse for what he had done. Had he not told the woman that she possessed a strength that needed to be used? Yet, what of his? Should he not accept that same advice for himself?

  He returned to his work as his mind attempted to solve the riddle in which he found himself. There was no doubt that he had strong feelings for Annabel, and he had to admit that they appeared when he first encountered her at the party given by Lord Thrup. What began as admiration had quickly turned to fondness fueled by the guilt that plagued him for his part in this fiasco.