by Glenda Diana
“I will think on the matter.”
Griggs cleared his throat. “I have heard she liked to take night strolls, sir. Perhaps we should have the area searched.”
“Have Gordon and his men comb the area. If she was meeting someone, then maybe we can find out what she was talking about. And have her body removed immediately.”
Blake turned away from the window. Was it the ravings of a crazy woman? Or was Thorton in mortal danger?
Chapter Twenty-two
Thorton never knew a week could be so long. The first two days had been fairly easy. The third had been only slightly bad. But by the fifth day, she thought she would go absolutely insane. She knew it was her anticipation, but the knowledge seemed only to slow the hours.
Lucas and Milly had been nothing but sweet and considerate. This visit to London was much different from her trip with the Bradleys. There were no parties to attend, no rushing from here to there. Lucas was not a member of the ton, so there was no fear of being disturbed.
On several occasions, Lucas had taken Milly to see the sights, but Thorton declined their offers to join them. She smiled as she recalled Milly's first impression of London. The young woman had wrinkled her nose and asked Thorton if she'd like to return home. She couldn't blame Milly, Rosewood looked like an enchanted land next to the filth of Town.
Out of convenience to herself and out of consideration to Lucas and Milly, Thorton had her hours arranged to her liking. She awoke at eight in the evening and retired at noon the following day. It gave Lucas time to spend alone with his wife and gave Thorton her solitude. She loved Lucas for his concern, but found it a great relief to be away from his ever-watchful eyes..
“Checkmate,” Thorton said to herself, moving her last piece on the chessboard in front of her. She stood, stretching her taunt muscles. By spending most of her waking hours while Lucas and Milly slept, Thorton had one less thing to worry about. She'd always been prone to share tidbits of news, but instinctively she knew Lucas would be furious if he discovered the plans she had made.
“Can I get you anything, Madame?”
Thorton smiled at the young butler in the doorway. “No, thank you, Saul. You know, you're quite a gem?” She laughed softly when the man's face turned a light shade of pink.
“S ... So are you, Madame,” he stuttered.
Thorton smiled as she began taking care of the chess pieces.
“Madame, if I may?” Saul's face burned brighter when she turned her eyes on him.
Thorton motioned for him to come closer. “We've become too good of friends to fear speaking frankly with each other. If something's bothering you, I'd like to know.”
“Yes, Madame.”
She almost laughed at the way he hesitantly approached her. He was such a shy man, not much older than her twenty-one years. His thick brown hair had a careless way about it, almost making him look rakish. His angular face reminded her of a boy, all fresh and pink-cheeked. He was handsome, not overly tall and not too thin, and built sturdy and lean. And though he paid no attention, Saul had captured the heart and eyes of every maid on the staff.
“So, my friend, what's bothering you?” Thorton's words had the effect she knew they would. Instantly, his stiff stance relaxed and he smiled.
“I know this will seem inappropriate, but ... I heard it won't be long before the family will be closing up the house and returning to the country.” He straightened his jacket with nervous hands. “Lucas said he was going to have the maids start packing tomorrow.”
“Would you like to go home with us, Saul?”
Big brown eyes widened. “Oh, yes, Madame. I've never cared much for Town life and I'm most fond of this family. I'd consider it an honor to be in service to Master Lucas and his wife ... and you.”
“I'll inform Lucas of your decision in the morning. Of course, life at Rosewood will be quite different. We haven't had a butler in residence for as long as I can remember. But for you, my friend, we will make an exception. You have no family here that might object?”
“No, Madame.”
The sadness in his eyes seemed to reach out to her. She was tempted to ask him what had caused his sorrow. But sometimes it was best to leave the past behind. Thorton had learned that lesson all too well fighting with her own painful past. She was still trying to teach herself to look only forward.
“You have a family now,” she announced. “Get some rest. Tomorrow will likely be hectic.”
“You're very kind and generous, Milady.” Giving a nod, he took his leave.
Thorton walked to the double doors leading to the garden. She could see nothing beyond the tiny streams of water running down the glass. She opened a door just enough so she could see into the darkness. She inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance of rain and wet earth, letting it fill her nostrils and unwinding the coil of apprehension inside her.
After three days of continuous rain, all that remained was a slight mist and a heavy curtain of fog that encased the shrubs and numerous rose bushes, sealing them in a nest of fluffy air. Thorton saw the wisp of fog coming closer to the open door, like thin fingers reaching toward her, wanting entrance to the untouched domain inside. Quickly, she shut the door, laying her head against the cool glass, fighting her imagination and fear.
Mr. Taker had sent a note. Tonight was the night.
Part of her was glad to be taking the final steps that would put an end to this game. Yet another part felt the heavy sadness growing, threatening to envelop and devour her. Once this episode was over, she could go on with her life. But where would her life be? What would she do?
Tears came and Thorton wiped them away. Sometimes the loneliness was just too much. She could be in the same room as Lucas and Milly and still feel alone. The solitude that she treasured was not such a prize.
Living at Rosewood was out of the question. Milly was mistress there now, as was her right. Thorton would not live under their roof like a dilapidated spinster. She wanted more, she wanted...
Thorton made her way to the hearth and sank into the nearest chair. It did no good to wish for things she could not have. That, too, had been a lesson she'd learned. But in these quiet hours, while the rest of the house slept, when only the sound of the gentle breeze or the crackling of wood in the hearth broke the silence, she found herself fighting with all her will the demons called ‘memories.’
With little effort she could recall every second she'd spent at Stonecrest, every breath she'd taken in Blake's presence. The pain lying just below the surface emerged with growing energy, which swamped her body and soul with new suffering. These were the times she seriously doubted her sanity, and her common sense.
Was this what fate had in store for her? Was this the way she would live the rest of her life ... doomed? Thorton shook her head in denial. What she needed was a new beginning, to make a life for herself someplace free of memories. At Rosewood she remembered all her childish dreams. The fresh smell of sunshine brought back the vivid memory of his scent when he had been out riding. The midnight hours brought the hushed sounds of whispered promises gone ... broken like her heart.
She would have to leave England, Thorton decided. She'd go to a place where no one knew her, where new beginnings could be started, a place where she could be anything she wanted to be. She would change her name, make up a past, and she'd live the rest of her days locked away from any possible hurt. Never again would she feel the tremors of love and passion. Then she would cherish the memories. She had loved once, with all her heart, a heart she no longer possessed. Now she had nothing to give, nothing to share.
When the chimes struck eleven o'clock, she made her way upstairs. She was to meet Mr. Taker at midnight by the garden gate. For the occasion she dressed in her black riding habit. Remembering the damp air and fog, she wrapped a lighter cloak around her before pulling on the heavier matching black cloak.. Tonight she had to have a clear mind, couldn't afford to let past deeds interfere.
Taking a deep breath, she went down
stairs and left the inside warmth. The air was heavy and damp. Thorton inhaled the aroma of wet leaves. Smoothing her cloak, she sat on the cold stone bench nearest the gate. The dampness of the bench penetrated her warm, heavy cloak. Checking the watch pinned at her shoulder, Thorton sighed. In her haste to get on with her mission, she had arrived too early.
Her hand reached inside the cloak pocket and felt the cool iron of her pistol. It had been almost a year since she'd practiced shooting, but she felt confident. If the need should arise, she'd be prepared. After all, it was not only her neck at risk, but that of Mr. Taker as well.
Shivering, she pulled her cloak around her. With no moon to cast the garden in a silver glow, the darkness seemed impregnable. She scolded herself for her childish fears and reminded herself that this was what she'd been waiting for, her moment to be the conqueror over the wrongs done to her.
America...
That was where she would go. A place so vast that she could go anywhere, be anyone. A place where there was no memory of Blake. There she could live and, hopefully, the pain would lessen with time. A soft voice inside her head whispered that no matter where she went, no matter where she hid, she would never forget.
God, she hoped not.
That thought brought a chill to her spine. She realized with a clarifying shock that she didn't want to forget, didn't want the oblivion she'd tried so hard to obtain. What would her days, her life, possess if she could never recall his face, or remember the sound of his voice? She wanted all the demon memories, just not the hurt that accompanied them.
She shifted her weight, thoroughly trying to ignore the cold stone bench beneath her, hoping to block out the misery it caused. Again she checked her watch, wondering if Mr. Taker had changed his mind. If he did not arrive soon, she would go to the address alone.
The sound of carriage wheels rolling to a stop at the end of the alley, the soft clicking of heels on the cobblestone, echoed through the darkness, bringing to her a sigh of relief. Anticipation coursed through her. When she started to stand, a sharp cramp shot up her leg. Quickly, she stifled the moan threatening to burst forth. Apparently the dampness of the bench had chilled her legs, leaving her almost immobile. Reaching down, she massaged her legs, gently trying to bring the feeling back into them.
The sound of footsteps drew nearer. She pushed aside her discomfort. The time had arrived. She was honest enough to admit she was scared at the thought of confronting her enemy, but it was something she felt compelled to do. Her life had no direction until this matter was concluded. She wanted no obstacles blocking her path to whatever future she could make for herself.
Footsteps came to a stop. The gate gave a mild squeak of protest. Thorton wished the moon could have been full, allowing her to see beyond a few feet. It was the idea of not knowing, of not being able to use her sight, that brought her trepidation.
Slowly, she stood on trembling, aching legs; they felt like they were no longer a part of her body. She couldn't help but wonder how long it would take to thaw her chilled limbs and scolded herself for not paying closer attention to her situation.
Footfalls came from inside the garden.
“Mr. Taker, is that you?”
The footsteps faltered slightly, then continued. The fine hairs on the back of her neck pricked to life. The air tingled with awareness. She slid her hand into the pocket that held her pistol. Something was wrong, very wrong.
“Mr. Taker?” she tried again, her finger poised at the trigger.
A dam inside her burst, as if bringing with it clear vision, vivid comprehension, and a startling, frightening revelation. Never once had the thought of being in danger come to mind.
“Oh Lord, how stupid of me,” she whispered. Well, not totally stupid, she thought, as her hand tightened around the pistol. At least she had thought to bring a weapon.
“My sentiments exactly, Madame.”
Thorton gave a small gasp. Not only was she stupid, she was foolish. Ignorantly, she had thought she'd prepared herself for everything. Now she knew just what a mistake she'd made. Her heart slammed against her ribs in rapid tempo. Leaning forward, she squinted into the darkness. “Blake?”
“After all this time apart, I'm inclined to believe you need to be locked up where you cannot cause mischief. After you've had a sound thrashing!”
Thorton squeezed her eyes shut. How utterly ignorant she was. She'd been trying to catch even the slightest glimpse of him through the darkness, but just the sound of his barely controlled anger was enough. Indeed, she counted herself fortunate not to be able to see him.
“Go away,” she murmured, hoping he would evaporate into the fog surrounding them.
Blake ignored her command. “You'd not believe the surprise awaiting me in my library a few nights ago. A rather crude little man by the name of Benny Taker wanted to know why my hellion wife was handling a mission of danger.”
“He had no right to run to you. If he didn't want to help, all he had to do was say so. I would've understood,” Thorton replied with only a slight quiver in her voice. “Go back to Stonecrest.”
Blake could see just her outline. Hearing the tremor in her voice made him smile. For the past six months he had been living in hell. He couldn't eat or sleep. He couldn't even crawl into his cups without her haunting image crawling in there with him.
A Bow Street Runner was the last person he'd thought to find when he went down to his library a few nights ago. The man had slithered in without a stir. Blake had almost tossed the man out on his ear. Taker had mentioned Thorton's name and shoved a stake of papers at him. Blake had been shocked by the evidence. Taker had told him how Thorton had figured it out, that she was the one who found the proof required to bring this episode to a close. Tonight would be the final step.
“I'm not going anywhere! You are. Go inside and lock the doors,” he ordered.
“I don't know who you think you are, but you have nerve ordering me about. I have a mission. You're the one that's going to leave. Return to Stonecrest and stay out of my affairs.” She started to stand when the cramps in her legs brought her to an instant stop. She knew her words sounded puny from her sitting position, but couldn't help it. One thing was certain-Blake was as infuriating as ever.
“Your affairs?” He stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “You're mistaken. This has more to do with me than with you. Unless you want me to toss you over my shoulder, return to the house on your own accord.”
Blake fought a smile. It felt good to argue with her. This was what had haunted him, her presence, her essence, the way the air seemed to crackle to life with her entity. He was tempted to do as he threatened. With the image in his mind of her slung over his shoulder, he'd take her straight to her room and make up for the months he'd thrown away.
She stared at his dark form towering over her like an Avenging Angel. She tapped down the urge to throw herself in his arms and demand he carry her to bed. As painful as her legs felt, that was most likely the only way she could get there. “You overgrown, insufferable, pigheaded...”
“Save the sweetness till later,” he murmured, bending forward so his forehead touched hers. “At last I've discovered how to silence you without stripping you naked. Next time you rant, I'll start talking, using only steamy words. Everything that reminds me of you.”
She swallowed, hard. What in God's name was he trying to do? She felt her body respond to his warm breath, to the deep timber of his voice. He made her forget the pain she'd suffered during the last six months.
“Blake, why are you doing this? Haven't we ripped at each other enough? Leave me with what little of myself I have left.”
“I can't, Thor. You haunt me.”
She wasn't sure if he meant that as a compliment; it sounded more like a complaint. Did he expect her to feel sorry for him? Damned if she would. His memory haunted her, too. Her eyes widened. Was he trying to tell her he...
She didn't get a chance to finish the thought.
“What
a tender reunion.” The voice brought Blake upright. “I feared the two of you were going to bicker the night away. Of course, your arguing was much more entertaining than your subtle attempt at love-making.”
Blake turned to face the newcomer, making sure his body shielded Thorton. “Good evening, Neil.”
Neil Waldom gave a slight tilt of his head as he took a step closer to the pair. “How is the lovely Baroness tonight?”
Thorton tried to see around Blake, but it was too dark to make out the unexpected visitor. “Actually, I was just getting ready to tell Blake I don't feel well. The damp air and bloody bench have chilled me to the bones. Perhaps we could take this meeting inside where it's warm?”
“Impossible.”
“What do you want, Waldom?” Blake tried to sound bored, keeping anger free from his voice. He knew he had failed when Neil laughed.
“What's wrong, Blake? Did you think I wouldn't know about your visit to Town? Tsh, tsh, old friend, how foolish.”
When Neil slightly turned, Blake saw the outline of a pistol. In his haste to get here, he'd left his own pistol in the carriage. “What brings you slithering out of your hole?”
“Crude, Bradley. I'd hoped our next meeting would be in the far future, but a certain stubborn Baroness had other plans.”
Thorton had just about managed to get her fear under control. “You know the old saying, ‘Don't count all your tomorrows when you still have today.’ Or something like that. I was never good at reciting quotes. I often gave my tutor a headache.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “At first, I thought this would be a challenge, one that would cure my boredom. How disappointing you were, Mr. Waldom ... or do I call you, Mr. Green?”
Neil laughed. “Very good, love. When Thomas told me Blake had taken a wife, I tired to image what you would look like. Not once had my imagination created a woman as enchanting as yourself. No wonder Thomas wanted you.”
“Unfortunately, Thomas was not bright,” Thorton whispered. “Mr. Taker said his body was found floating in the Thames.”
