"You need a man to protect you," he said.
Elise laughed. "How out of date." How could she be attracted to this unknown man? "I care for someone else," Elise said, "but I don't need anyone to protect me."
"What if circumstances were different? What if I were the one you loved?"
"But you're not," she said flatly. "However, if you were, I would tell you to stop this dangerous game you play."
Suddenly his fingers scorched her as he lifted the delicate chain and heart she wore around her neck. His fingers clenched on the gold chain a moment, so that she feared he would break it but he released it. "Where did you come by this heart? Surely 'tis a lover's gift?"
"A gift long ago from someone I cared about."
"But no longer?"
She enclosed the locket in her hand.
Suddenly horses traveled quickly along the road. He moved swiftly to the window and peered past the curtain.
"Are they after you?" Elise asked. "If they catch you they'll put you in jail, maybe hang you. Surely it's not worth it."
"It must be done."
"Tell me who you are."
"No secrets tonight."
"But you are the Hellhound," she said.
"Yes, I am."
#
Darien wondered why he cared what happened to her. It was incredibly easy to become caught up in the play of her fire and ice. He was ensnared by her. He had vowed to stay away, and yet here he was.
He turned one last time, and in the shadows cast by the dying fire, he saw her tumbled mass of hair, her face a perfect oval. Her body was poised as if awaiting a sign from him that would push both of them into this madness of attraction.
He would swear there was no guile or deceit in her eyes. "If you will not come with me and leave this place then I must go," he muttered hoarsely. He would keep watch outside. She had no idea how much danger she was in.
Elise stared at him. "Mandine knew who you were, I am sure of it. She wouldn't tell me -- another secret she kept."
Darien shrugged. "She may have guessed -- she may have known. It does not matter."
"She just wanted to keep me safe. Maybe I should go see the Sheriff."
"You can do that but I would caution you against seeing the Sheriff from this village. Seek the law enforcement in Catskill. You should be cautious as to who you trust. Who has been to see Mandine in the last week?"
"My father, Darien Remington, and his brother Rufus -- they were all here the other day." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't even suggest Darien or Rufus might be involved, because it's not possible. Darien might have been mad at Mandine, but he'd never harm her."
"Why would he be angry with Mandine?"
Elise gritted her teeth. "For something he thinks Mandine had a hand in a long time ago. Why would you care about these people?" she asked suspiciously.
"It pays to know a potential enemy."
"Are you implying Darien and Rufus are your enemies?"
"I am merely saying I do not wish to see you harmed, therefore if anyone is bent on mischief, I would try to avert it." He paced the floor. "Living alone here, you are unprotected --"
"I won't run and hide."
"A woman alone is an easy target."
Impatiently, Elise opened her mouth to tell him he was crazy, but then she realized he was right. This was 1846, not the twenty-first century. She, better than anyone, knew the difference.
"If you're trying to frighten me, you've succeeded." However, despite his warning, she remained adamant. "I'm not running."
Without answering he left. One moment he was there, the next the door swung gently back and forth.
Elise stood in the doorway but she could see nothing in the darkness outside. She closed the door and bolted it from inside.
Darien bedded down a short distance from the cottage. Elise was stubborn, too independent, and surely would get herself harmed. He had no choice but to keep guard.
The memory of the fire in her eyes stayed with him through the night. Darien scanned the area but all seemed quiet. Elise was so different from how he remembered her. He would discover her secrets, no matter how closely she thought to guard them. And then he would tell her about Adeline.
#
Just before light Darien led his mount into the stables.
Accustomed to the routine, his horse stood patiently as he removed burlap from his hooves, removed girth, saddle and bridle.
Darien nudged the horse gently with two fingers, encouraging the animal to sidestep closer to the wall. After carefully cleaning the saddle, he then placed it in a concealing wooden box under a bundle of hay.
Returning to the animal, he curried dried sweat from muscled hindquarters, a measure of calmness coming over him as he performed the necessary ritual, the appreciative grunt of his companion affording him satisfaction.
Smiling to himself, he placed a measure of sweetened oats before the horse. The animal lifted his head, ears pricked forward.
Continuing to brush the horse, Darien remarked, "They struck the Upper Valley, way up in the Spruce Woods."
The animal dipped his head once more into the feed trough.
A shadow shifted from the doorway and Rufus appeared, lighting an oil lamp, carefully turning down the wick. Elongated shadows leapt along rough walls, twin shadows side by side. "Anyone killed?" Rufus asked, his voice rasping.
"No, just terrified." Darien's lips curled disdainfully. "The thieves were bent on mischief -- kidnapping, perhaps worse, of a woman and her child. The husband they struck down from behind."
"Very common with the likes of them," muttered Rufus, briskly rubbing his palms together. "It is a cold breeze out there."
"A storm brews from the northeast. I fear there will be a lash of ice before the morn is over."
Rufus leaned in closer, brows drawn together in a frown.
"What is this?" His fingers flicked at the strips of linen binding his arm.
Darien stepped from the horse's stall and turned to latch the gate. "Merely a flesh wound."
Rufus sighed. "The Hellhound sees more danger with the passing of time."
"You must admit our success lies in the element of surprise, the hidden danger of our mission."
Rufus grinned. "Who would think there are two Hellhounds? With a bit of magic thrown in to make things more interesting, but 'tis a wearisome task. Is there no end to that one's treachery?"
"You know he has no care for who he hurts. We agreed when this began we could not stand by and witness the slaughter of the innocent."
"Do not misunderstand, I only decry the foul means he employs in preying on the helpless."
"Well," Darien added, "we need more time and evidence if we are to eliminate his stranglehold. Should something happen to me, you know --"
"Damnation!" Rufus extinguished the lamp as they stepped from the rough shelter, "Do not tempt the hand of fate, for surely you will bring its attention to you."
They stepped outside together and stood a moment against the door. With rising fury, the chill wind tore at them, cutting through cloak and great coat alike.
"You have been to see her, have you not?" The wind almost carried away his brother's words, but Rufus saw the answer in Darien's eyes. "Argh, we are very much alike, you and I. I know what I would do in similar circumstances."
"The dark-haired siren?" Darien asked.
"Yes. When this is finished, I am going back to the sea. I swear I will find her this time."
Rufus' eyes dropped again to the neatly tied dressing on Darien's arm.
"She did that. Man! Think on the risk -- all it takes is one slip of the tongue, no matter how well you disguise your voice. By God, you should know that. We have enough on our heads with the increased looting, you must be more cautious than ever. Patrols scout daily for the Hellhound. Is she worth such sacrifice?"
"Sacrifice?" a half laugh rumbled. He ran a heavy hand through the wind tossed length of his hair.
"Should you be caught --"
>
"There is that risk," Darien agreed. "At one time I would have said she is worth any risk."
"And now?"
"Now I do not know."
Rufus paused with booted foot upon the bottom step of the back porch as green eyes very much like his own stared back at him. "I say this not in jest, keep clear of the Lancaster woman while in this disguise."
"If she is in danger, you know I cannot stay away." Darien balled up the black mask he held and stuffed it inside his leather vest. "What of the dark haired witch who turned your very existence upside down? What would you do if it was her?"
Rufus smiled for a moment in memory, then frowned, cursing. "Don't remind me of that."
"Well, she's got me twisted up the same way that witch had you twisting in the wind." Darien laughed. "If you had asked me about Elise last week I would have shrugged it off." He looked with far seeing eyes towards the mountains still bathed in early morning mist. "Until I saw her again, I did not realize how much I have been hiding from the past."
"I imagine you and Adeline have much to talk about," Rufus murmured.
They entered the house by way of a seldom-used entrance, the door closing on well-oiled hinges behind them.
Chapter Six
By mid-morning snow had lightly dusted the ground, but with the bright morning sun, most of the white cover had melted away by mid afternoon.
After feeding the cow and goat and throwing corn to the handful of chickens, Elise decided to explore the village and surrounding area. From the brief walks she had taken, she knew the area had changed during her long absence. The village per se had not existed, but the area was basically the same. She knew her father's fortress was up the mountain. She thought again of Mandine's words, that she would return to her father's home. It made her shiver in the warm sun.
To fit in, Elise had found a skirt and blouse that belonged to Mandine and donned both. It would not be wise to stand out in any way, but she didn't customarily wear long dresses these days. Knee length was her preferred dress and skirt length, but of course that was not something she could do now. Still, Elise was no longer used to wearing long skirts and would have loved to just wear her jeans and T-shirt. She grimaced, then stepped out the front door and walked the short path to the road, she turned left and walked toward the main part of town. As she drew closer to the village center, she could not help but notice the crowd gathering in front of the town hall.
Curious, she continued walking, observing the flourishing mercantile which seemed to advertise every ware imaginable along the front of the small building. It sat advantageously in the center of the town at the crossroad. Elise paused at the edge of the crowd and could not help but overhear two women deep in conversation.
"The list is out," said one, shaking her head. She wore a wide yellow bonnet and seemed unaware Elise stood nearby. "'Tis a long one this time." She turned her head and caught sight of Elise. The woman lowered her voice, putting her head closer to that of her companion. "Pity anyone who has their name on it. You won't find me begging for help in this town." She urged her companion away, further up the road. "Do you recall the widow Glendrick and what happened when she applied for help. . ."
Elise moved closer, saw the scroll of paper tacked to the pole in front of the town building.
Paupers to be sold at public auction.
It was a practice she despised, and apparently it had not been improved upon in the passing of years. Elise recalled a dim memory from her childhood when she had been allowed to attend such an auction.
On many an occasion, her father purchased help for his household at the auction. They had been homeless women and children mainly, destitute families who had nowhere to go, no one to take care of them. They had been virtual slaves working off the price of their purchase. Many times, even when they had worked for years, they had been forced to stay with their employer, having no money or clothes that did not belong to the person who had bid on them.
With a grimace, Elise acknowledged that her childhood had held little joy, and if it had not been for Mandine's many interventions, she doubted she would have survived her father's wrath on many an occasion.
The one time she had attended the auction with her father, she had been eleven years old. She had begged him to take her with him.
When she had witnessed the actual events of paupers sold at auction, she had been acutely aware of the humiliation and shame those people must have felt. They'd been sold and taken away like animals at a fair. It had bothered her immensely . . . it still did. She had blocked that memory until this moment.
Elise stared at the people around her, the children running and playing games together. The men and women worked hard to keep their families together, they seemed loving and protective at the same time. She could not help but compare their life of hardship and lack of wealth with that of her father. His wealth had not made him shirk hard work, but Elise could never imagine him playing a game with her, as a man and his son were now playing up the street.
Elise glanced briefly at the scroll of names and she was already turning away when she stopped in disbelief. She peered closer, certain she was mistaken in what she was seeing. Her name had been added to the list.
Her heart began to thump incredibly fast, causing a pulse to throb painfully at her temple.
Without thought, Elise turned and quickly walked up the steps and into the town building. Pushing open the heavy oak door, she stepped inside, hearing the hinges creak as it swung to behind her, almost catching her skirt. Inside the building the dark quietness closed upon her, the air musty and stale.
She walked toward a light at the end of a long hall, her shoes tapping on the marble floor. She stopped by the open door, seeing a man, approximately in his forties, busily writing at a large oak desk. After a brief knock, Elise walked into the small office.
He didn't acknowledge her presence at once, he didn't even look up, but waved her to a seat.
Patiently, Elise waited, biting her lips to keep her outrage from bursting out.
Finally he looked up, his eyes widening, a slight smile beginning to curve full red lips.
Elise spoke first.
"Sir, there's a mistake on the auction list," she blurted, and was satisfied to see she had his full attention. Almost instantly his smile vanished and bewhiskered cheeks seemed to quiver.
"Really, Madam?" He drew a similar list forward from a pile of papers, looking at it over the top of his round spectacles. "Why should you think an error has been made?" He turned the paper toward her. "Are these not the same names on the list which is posted outside?"
"Yes, yes, I suppose they are." Elise gave the list a cursory glance. She kept her voice controlled, even though she wanted nothing more than to tear the list to pieces. "Therein lies the problem," she said quietly, "my name is on that list and it should certainly not be."
He looked at her fully now, and Elise sat up straight, clenching her jaw at the hint of male interest.
"Madam, if you applied for assistance, then your name appears on the list." he said gently, smiling in a benevolent manner. "That is the rule."
"I know the rule," she gritted, coming to her feet and jerkily stepping back, "but what I'm telling you is -- I did not apply."
He rudely sat back in his seat and tilted his chair to look up at her. "Of course you did." He removed his glasses and pulled out a cloth to clean them, "Otherwise, Madam, your name would not appear."
"I am here to tell you I did not apply. I want my name off this instant." Elise felt his waning interest.
He pulled other paperwork toward him. "I cannot oblige you, madam. There is nothing in the standard practice of posting this list which allows for a name to be withdrawn."
"Then just put a line through it, I don't care. I want my name removed immediately, or I will tear the thing down --"
"Now, madam, please be calm. I regret your upset, but while you have experienced a change of heart, I cannot go and change the entire list, nor is it leg
al if I start blacking out names. The auction is in two days, the list stays." He stood up, placing his hands on the desk, authority now in his voice. "Should you feel the need to tear it down, let me remind you the proper authorities will be informed."
"You are being obtuse and -- and pigheaded," she gritted, feeling a momentary satisfaction as he looked affronted. Elise wanted to throw something at him, hating the desperation creeping into her voice. "I didn't apply for help. Someone else must have put my name in." He was already shaking his head. Elise clenched her jaw, such a deep fear riding her she felt like she was headed at an accelerated pace toward her own doom.
She whirled and walked toward the door. "I won't show up for the auction," she declared, pulling the door open with furious energy.
She was almost through the door when she heard his voice behind her.
"I am sorry, Miss, but it does not work that way. Whether you appear the day of the auction or not, your name will still be read, and if someone bids on you. . ." he left the rest unsaid, but Elise knew with a certain dread what he meant.
If someone bid on her, unless she disappeared from the face of the earth, they would lawfully own her, perhaps for a year or more, and there wasn't anyone she could appeal to.
She was, after all, a penniless, unattached woman in the year 1846.
#
For Elise, it was the last straw. She had been sitting in quiet meditation in the apple orchard behind the cottage, worrying over the predicament she was in, when he appeared out of nowhere. A boy of about twenty. He was very thin, and looked half-starved as he posted a vacancy notice on the cottage door.
"What do you mean I have to leave?" There was a quality of wildness to her voice, but there was nothing Elise could do to stem the feeling of being pulled further into the quagmire.
Uncertainly, the boy backed away, twisting his sheaf of papers between his palms. "I-I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I have my orders. The house didna belong to Miss Mandine, it was only rented. Her medicinal knowledge was bartered on rent."
"You can't just kick me out!"
Time Travel Romance Collection Page 38
