Although his face was twisted in an emotional mask, there was no doubt that it was Gareth’s footman. The one who seemed to hate her. Hodges, she remembered was his name.
“Y–you…” she murmured, utterly confused.
“Yes, my dear,” he drawled and he slowly turned his face to look at her more closely. He smiled, mocking and cruel. “You weren’t expecting me, I wager.”
“No,” she said with a scowl. “Release me at once.”
His smile faltered. “Always the bitch, aren’t we?
Always the ‘higher than thou’ lady. Except you made Always the ‘higher than thou’ lady. Except you made yourself a whore quickly enough.”
Beatrice flinched at the harsh words, but she refused to break eye contact with the bastard who towered over her. “Perhaps I did, but I am Lord Highcroft’s whore. And you shal suffer his wrath if you do not let me go.”
Hodges’s hand darted down and he grasped her col ar. With a painful wrench, he yanked her to her feet and gave her a hard shake. With her hands bound, she was helpless against the assault and could only bite back a cry of pain as her aching shoulders strained.
“Don’t you understand?” he barked into her face. His breath stank of whiskey and tobacco as little flecks of spittle hit her turned cheek. “You are suffering my wrath. And so wil he before I am finished.”
He pushed her back and she stumbled onto her backside. She blew out a breath of air as her shoulder popped. Lightning-hot pain rushed through her body and she nearly blacked out, but somehow maintained consciousness as she slid as far away from him as the smal room would al ow.
She was hurt now, though she didn’t know how badly. Al she was certain of was that the injury put her at a disadvantage if she got the opportunity to fight or run. And if the sadistic bastard who had taken her found out…wel , he would probably delight in using it to torture her.
She fought back a moan as the pain in her shoulder throbbed ceaselessly. Focus. She had to focus.
“Why?” she whispered, removing the agony from her voice as best she could. “Why would you have so much anger toward me when you have only known me a short time. Is this because I was impolite to you when I arrived at the estate?”
He smiled. “I admit, it is an added pleasure and so much easier to punish such a wretched girl, but in the end my vengeance has nothing to do with you.”
She shook her head. “Then why?”
“Him.”
As he said the word, Hodges’s face twisted and there was so much hatred and brutal anger in his expression that Beatrice froze in the face of it. In that one look, she saw al the torture and torment he intended to visit upon her before he ultimately ended her life. And she had no doubt that he would extinguish her life eventual y.
“You want to punish Gareth,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Indeed I do.”
“He has been a difficult master,” she said, forcing her tone to be soft, even submissive. Perhaps if he saw her as an al y, he could be convinced to end his plans.
He locked gazes with her and there was disgust on his face. “Of course not. For that we spit in your soup, we piss in your laundry. No, to warrant this kind of retribution, a man has to do something far worse.”
“What did he do?” she asked.
“He kil ed the woman I loved,” he spat.
Beatrice couldn’t help but recoil at those words.
“Who—”
She broke the question off as she thought of the only woman Gareth had ever been accused of harming. Her eyes widened as she stared up at her captor.
“Laurel?” she asked.
“Don’t say her name,” he barked as his hand came back in a striking motion.
Beatrice turned her face, bracing her body for his fist, but it didn’t come. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, he was clenching his fingers open and shut as he stared down at her with a menacing madness that frightened her to her very core.
“Not yet,” he murmured, almost to himself rather than to her. “If I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
She couldn’t help but gasp out a tear-fil ed sound that summed up al her fear, al her regret.
“You loved her,” she sobbed, forgoing al pretense of haughty anger or irritation that normal y defined her reactions.
He nodded once, and beyond the lunacy of his revenge she saw how truly broken a man this person was. What he said was true, at least to him.
“I did. And she loved me. She was carrying my child the night Highcroft caused her death.” He slammed a hand against the table beside him. “He took everything from me that night.”
She winced at the violence of the action. “I’m sorry.”
“Not yet,” he murmured as he moved toward her.
“But you wil be. The Marquis of Highcroft robbed me, raped me, he murdered some part of me when Laurel died. Now I wil do the same to him over as long a time as I can manage.”
When Gareth kicked open the front door to his former brother-in-law’s worn-down home, it brought a handful o f ragged servants running. But one look at the two powerful men who stepped into the foyer and no one made any motion to come closer or stop their advance.
“Where is your master?” Gareth cried, barely holding in his anger, his fear, al the emotions when he thought of Beatrice being kidnapped. “Where is Adam Branden?”
The servants al stared, silent, but final y a butler moved forward. “H–he is in his study, my lor—”
Gareth didn’t wait for him to finish. He bolted down the hal way with Ethan close at his heels. But as he reached for the door, Ethan caught his arm.
“If you kil him, you won’t find Beatrice,” Ethan growled. “I understand your panic, but you must think of saving her, not of your revenge. Not yet.”
Gareth shook off the other man’s hand with a glare, but he took a deep breath. Rothschild was correct, as much as he would like to ignore his words and simply rip Adam to shreds. He needed the man alive and coherent if he was to uncover where he had taken Beatrice.
And if she was even stil alive.
He shuddered at the thought and then pushed the door open. As the two men came into the darkened chamber, Gareth looked around. It had been so long since he had been in this house. Even before Laurel’s death, he hadn’t visited her family, hating their accusatory stares and the angry interactions that ultimately ensued when he spent more than a few moments with them.
What he saw gave him a shock. How far they had fallen, even since his last visit. The room was shabby and had a dank feel to it that made Gareth shiver. And then he saw his former brother-in-law. Adam sat in the dark at his desk, a bottle before him. He hadn’t even looked up when the door opened, though Ethan and Gareth had made plenty of noise in the hal way.
“You—” Gareth began, but Ethan caught his arm and held him steady.
“Look at him,” Rothschild whispered. “Whether he took Beatrice or not, the man is not right. If you attack him, you’l get nothing. Calm yourself.”
Gareth clenched his teeth. “Adam,” he final y managed to grind out.
The man at the desk looked up, jolting as if he were startled when he saw the two men at his door. Slowly, he rose and moved toward them.
“Highcroft?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.
“What are you doing here? Who is this?”
Ethan stepped forward and extended his hand slowly. “I am the Earl of Rothschild, Mr. Branden. And we have come here on very important business. My sister-in-law is missing.”
Gareth leaned forward, staring at Adam and looking for any indication of guilt or remorse or even pride. But there was nothing. Adam was completely blank; no emotion whatsoever lined his face. It was almost unnatural.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Adam said.
Gareth couldn’t take it anymore. With a yel , he leaped across the room and caught Adam by the lapels. Dragging him across the desk, he threw the man down to the ground and straddled him, holding him sti
l as he breathed through his nose like a noisy bul .
“You know exactly the fuck what we mean. You attacked Beatrice and threatened her. Do you think me so stupid that I wouldn’t suspect you took her when she went missing?”
Adam blinked as if the violence had awoken him from a dreamlike state. He looked from Gareth to Ethan with confusion.
“The–the woman?” he asked. “Yes, I did approach her. I…I wasn’t thinking. I meant her no harm, I only wanted to frighten her.”
Gareth slammed the other man down harder against the floor. “Where is she? I swear to God, I wil kil you now if you have harmed her.”
“Stop,” Ethan barked as he grabbed Gareth’s shoulders and tugged. But Gareth didn’t let go, and dragged Adam with him as they fel backward.
“Tel me,” he shouted, ful in Adam’s face. “Where is she?”
His former brother-in-law shook his head and for the first time Gareth saw the ful light of comprehension in Adam’s eyes.
“I did not take her, I swear to you. I regretted coming to your estate, doing what I did, saying what I said, the moment I ran away. I was confused, and Hodges was so vile in his descriptions, in his statements about what I should do…”
Gareth stared as Adam continued to ramble. Final y, he lifted a hand. “Wait, wait. Did you say Hodges?”
Adam nodded. “He told me you had brought a new woman to your estate. A woman you intended to marry. He played into my pain and grief—”
“ M y footman, Hodges?” Gareth repeated as he shoved Adam away from him and staggered to his feet. “Are you saying he had something to do with why you came to my home? That he told you about Beatrice?”
Adam nodded, though he remained seated on the floor, seemingly oblivious to his odd position. “Yes.”
“But…why?” Gareth asked, utterly confused. “Why would my servant do that?”
Adam looked at him with a shake of his head.
“Didn’t you know? Hodges and Laurel were…they had an affair.”
Gareth staggered back, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he paced away across the room. His stomach turned at the thought, the concept that while Laurel flinched away from his touch, she had accepted a servant’s without hesitation. And worse, that her relationship with that man had now put Beatrice in danger.
And his own ignorance that a wolf lived in his very midst had only made her situation worse.
“Do you think this Hodges to be so bold as to take Beatrice?” Ethan asked quietly from behind Gareth. Gareth spun to face Adam.
The other man stared for a moment and then he slowly nodded. “When the child died, he went crazy.”
“The child?” Gareth cried, his mind spinning. “Are you saying Laurel was pregnant when she died?”
Adam winced, but then nodded. “Hodges claimed it to be so.”
Gareth’s knees threatened to buckle. He and his wife had not had relations for long enough before her death that he doubted any child she might have carried would have been his. If Hodges believed Laurel to be pregnant…if he thought the babe to be his…
Wel , that was more than enough motive for the worst kind of revenge.
“But why would he wait so long?” Gareth murmured.
“He had two years to murder me in my bed.”
Adam shrugged. “He didn’t want to kil you without breaking you first. He’s been plotting for two years and going steadily mad. The idea that you might marry again seemed to push him over the edge.”
“So Hodges encouraged you to seek vengeance against Beatrice in order to hurt me,” Gareth whispered.
“And when I refused after our last encounter, he was enraged.” Adam shook his head. “He was out of control; nothing I could say would soothe him.”
“Then he could have taken her,” Ethan mused, meeting Gareth’s eyes. Gareth saw pity there, worry that was almost as deep as his own.
Stomach turning, Gareth whispered, “Adam, you must tel me where he might have taken her. Her life could depend on it.”
He knew it was a risk, talking about life and death with this man who had lost a most beloved sister. But with this man who had lost a most beloved sister. But after a long moment, Adam nodded.
“There has been enough death, enough pain,” he whispered. “There is one place he might have gone…”
Chapter Seventeen
B eatrice squeezed her eyes shut and a tear trickled from the corner of her eye to splash against the dusty floor. How long would it take for someone to miss her?
Miss her.
She almost laughed, though nothing about her situation was amusing in the least. After al the years she had spent since her father’s death creating a wal around herself, blocking out any friendship or love
…wel , now she would pay. No one would care once she was gone. Beyond the juicy gossip such a gruesome end would garner, there would be little mourning, little regret. She feared even her family would feel more relief than loss.
And it was no one’s fault but her own. Her actions had made her a pariah. They were the reason why no one would come for her.
Despair overcame her and she let the tears fal silently as she mourned her life, mourned al the things she should have done, mourned…
“Gareth,” she whispered, low enough that Hodges wouldn’t hear.
Gareth had seen past her protective barriers. He had forced her to face herself, her past. Gareth would come for her. Only he would be too late.
She forced her eyes open and looked across the dim room. In the distance, Hodges stood at a table. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but occasional y she heard the slide of metal on metal, as if he was sharpening blades.
The footman would torture her. That much was clear. Even if he hadn’t already told her, she had seen it in his eyes. She had heard it in his voice. Yet somehow it wasn’t the pain that she feared or regretted. The closer she got to what she knew would be the end, the more she was saddened.
Saddened by the fact that Gareth would know she had suffered. When he saw her, it would surely break him and wrack him with guilt that he hadn’t protected her.
And more than that, she felt overwhelmed by regret. Why had she resisted Gareth’s desires for so long?
Why had she kept herself from him in any way? And why hadn’t she told him how she felt about him?
That she loved him.
When that thought pierced the hazy terror in her mind she almost cried out in pure pain. For so long she had fought to keep everyone and everything out and away, to protect herself. And now, now, when her heart was so clear to her that there was no question about how she felt, she was about to lose everything.
“Do you think I can’t hear you whimpering?” Hodges snapped as he slammed his fist against the table before him. The old wood creaked beneath the force and Beatrice tensed as she readied herself for pain.
“Isn’t that what you want?” she asked. “Isn’t my suffering part of your sick plan?”
He chuckled as he turned slightly toward her. “Sick plan. How can you cal me sick when you have actual y enjoyed the games that Highcroft demands his women play? The servants can hear you moaning like a whore in his bed, you know.”
“He never forced me, he never hurt me,” she hissed, determined to defend Gareth to this bastard.
Hodges turned to pick up a thin blade from the col ection of devices on the table. “So you liked what he did to you, you dirty harlot. You may have enjoyed his games, but trust that you won’t like mine.”
Beatrice pushed herself to a seated position, despite the stabbing pain her shoulder injury created. She shoved herself back, scooting toward the wal as Hodges advanced on her, step by slow step. He was smiling, viciously enjoying her fear, and she couldn’t keep herself from expressing it with one, bloodcurdling scream as he lifted the blade over his head in preparation to slice through her skin.
But before he could do it, before he could maim her, kil her, the door behind him flew open. Beatrice screamed again as a blur
of activity began. Hodges was pul ed away from her, thrown across the room with enough force that the window by the door shattered when he hit the wal . Bright sunlight flooded the chamber.
Beatrice struggled to see what was happening in the confusion. When her eyes adjusted, she saw Gareth straddling the now prone footman, beating his fist into Hodges’s face over and over again. He would kil him if he hadn’t already. Ethan stood over the men, trying to stop Gareth, but unable to in the face of Gareth’s rage.
“Gareth,” Beatrice cal ed out weakly.
Her voice stopped him mid-punch. Slowly he turned and the haze of anger that had darkened his face and turned him into a man she didn’t know faded. He threw aside the limp body of the man who had taken her and crossed the room to her in three long strides.
“Beatrice,” he whispered as he dropped to his knees before her. “God, I’m sorry.”
He enfolded her in his arms and al the fear she had experienced, al the regrets that had made her ache, spil ed free as she sobbed into his shoulder. She was vaguely aware of hands untying her, probably Ethan’s, since Gareth never released her. As she continued to cry, Gareth lifted her and cradled her to his chest as he carried her from the dingy little shack where she had been held.
“She’s injured,” Beatrice heard through her tears. Ethan’s voice, and he sounded so concerned…so loving that her sobs came faster. “I’l fetch the magistrate and a vehicle to carry her home.”
Slowly, her sobs subsided and Beatrice lifted her face from Gareth’s shoulder to look up at him. He was staring down at her, his green eyes intense with emotion.
“Beatrice,” he whispered. “I love you. I love you, do you hear me? I love you.”
She was overwhelmed, washed away by the emotions of al she had endured and by the utter joy of hearing Gareth’s confession. She opened her mouth, intent on confessing her own heart, but no words would come. The pain of her shoulder was too intense, her emotions too sharp.
So she settled her face back into his shoulder and let darkness take her again.
Nothing Denied Page 18