“I am Anton Kazakov, her husband.”
“As he is reported to be dead, who are you really?”
“He is my husband,” Natasha admitted, but stepped closer to Lord Atwood.
“We have been searching or you. Are you well?”
“Yes.”
Anton was not at all comfortable with the concern on Atwood’s face, nor how comfortable Natasha was with this man.
She glanced at Anton for a moment and her mouth tightened before her focus returned to Lord Atwood. “If you don’t mind, could you please escort me to your estate?”
“You are always welcome in my home.”
He would be damned if she went off with the earl! “I am still your husband, Natasha. Your place is by my side.”
She glared at him. “Where was your side this morning when you locked me in that cage?”
Atwood took a step between them and once again he leveled the gun at Anton’s chest.
What was his defense? That is exactly what he had done. “It was a mistake.”
“Mistake?” Natasha came around Atwood. “You locked me away and accused me of betraying you.”
Anton’s stomach tightened and churned. All thought of revenge died when she was unconscious. He also knew, she hadn’t betrayed him. She didn’t have it in her. It was Vanko had said, he simply fueled the thoughts of revenge to keep him alive. He tried to hate her, but he could never.
Natasha’s eyes hardened in anger, her mouth firm and tense. What had he done?
Why had Yuri lied to him? There was a trial! Details had been given to him. Yet, in looking at Natasha’s grief stricken and angry expression, he couldn’t deny he had been deceived from the moment he had been shot and the soldier stood over him until now.
What had he done to Natasha was unforgiveable! Why hadn’t he listened to Vanko and simply asked? She had been innocent all along and he just destroyed his marriage and the woman he loved. Did Vanko know something he did not? Or was he simply expressing caution?
Atwood offered Natasha his arm and without as much as a by your leave, they exited the room. Anton wanted to stop them. She was still his wife, but Atwood had not bothered to put his gun away either. At least he knew where she would be. Hopefully, she would give him a chance to speak with her again.
14
Chilled into a silence, they listened and distinctly heard it repeated. Deadly ideas crowded
upon their imaginations, and inspired an error which scarcely allowed them to breath.
A Sicilian Romance
Ann Radcliffe
“It’s locked.” Eliza slumped down on the damp ground, her back against the door.
Rosemary stood to the side, holding one of torches that had been mounted on the wall above the waterline. Sophia had lit it with the flint she carried in her pocket as soon as it became too dark to see very clearly. “How will we ever get in?”
“I suppose there is nothing left to do but return to the estate,” Sophia offered in a hopeful tone, knowing full well the other two would not give up that easily.
Eliza looked up at her, a mischievous smile on her lips. “You could get us in.”
Sophia shook her head. “I haven’t used that particular skill in well over a year.”
“I am sure you remember how,” Rosemary coaxed. “We need to get in to rescue Miss Pritchard.”
“I am sure Lord Atwood will find a way. We can wait at the top of the cliff,” Sophia suggested.
Eliza stood and crossed her arms in front, her head tilted to the side. “Are you afraid of a little ghost?”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “There is no ghost.”
“Then why are you afraid to pick the lock?”
“I am not afraid to do anything.”
“Prove it.” Eliza smiled.
“Yes, prove it.” Rosemary took a stance by Eliza, though she seemed a bit more worried than their friend.
“Very well. But, if either of you get hurt by that man in there, don’t blame me.” She pulled two pins from her hair. “My father will kill me if he learns I’ve done this again.”
She bent over and went to work on the door. Her friends hovered over her shoulder. “Move back. I need the light to see what I am doing.”
The torch appeared over her head and illuminated the area. Concentrating on her task, she used the pins to disengage the front lock. After a moment she heard the click. Sophia stood back and brushed her hands together.
Eliza came forward. She turned the handle and pushed on the door. It didn’t move. “Help me,” she hissed over her shoulder.
Sophia simply stood there. She may have picked the lock but she wasn’t going to force the door open.
Rosemary handed the torch to Sophia and pushed with Eliza against the door. “It won’t budge.”
“The wood is swollen from the dampness, sealing the door tight,” Sophia offered.
“We got it open before,” Eliza reminded her.
“We did not get it open. Two grown men had to force it.”
“Then help us,” Rosemary pleaded over her shoulder.
She rolled her eyes and looked for a slot on the wall to place the torch. Though she would assist, she didn’t expect the old, thick door to budge. Placing herself between Rosemary and Eliza the three of them pushed on the count of three. Nothing. They tried again. No movement.
The crash of waves against the shore grew louder, but she was fairly certain high tide wasn’t for a few hours yet.
A scrape on the other side of the door and all three girls stilled and looked at each other.
“What if it is him?” Rosemary whispered.
“Ghosts don’t scrape,” Sophia offered. Though she wasn’t so certain she wanted to meet what was on the other side of the door, she didn’t expect to find a ghost. But what if it was the man who took Miss Pritchard and what if he was dangerous?
“Could he be holding Miss Pritchard down here?” Eliza asked.
Given that was a possibility, Sophia renewed her pressure against the door but try as they might it wouldn’t open.
A low moan bled through the door and the girls collectively took a step back. The sound grew louder and scarier.
The hair stood up on the back of Sophia’s neck. She did not believe in ghosts, but if she did, she was certain one was on the other side of that door. She glanced over at Rosemary, who had turned white as the snow.
Eliza’s chin jutted out, as if she refused to fear what they could not see. “Who is there?” she called out.
Sophia grabbed her arm. “What are you going?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” she taunted.
“I don’t, but we don’t know what is in there, or who. He could be dangerous.”
“Yes, he could be dangerous,” Rosemary agreed.
The moans grew louder. Was the person in pain? Was it Miss Pritchard?
Chains scrapped against the door. Eliza squeaked, Rosemary screamed, and both girls turned to run back toward the entrance of the cave. Sophia grabbed the torch to follow, but when the girls reached the steps leading down to the beach and stopped. They were gone, covered in water. The tide was coming in and the water would only get higher, practically filling the cave, before it receded.
They had nowhere to go.
The tea cup rattled when she tried to place it in the saucer. “Could I have something a bit stronger?” Natalie appealed to Tess. She had finished explaining most of the events of the past twenty-four hours, yet her nerves did not calm.
Lord Atwood pressed a tumbler of brandy into her hand. Natalie sipped slowly and let the warmth seep in.
“What are you going to do now?” Tess questioned. She had remained quiet during Natalie’s rendering.
“I don’t know.” She was so uncertain. Part of her was still elated that Anton wasn’t dead. She had loved Anton from the moment their gazes first connected across the crowded ballroom of Gatchina Place. His chiseled features and dark, black as midnight hair, were hard to miss, even
in a crowd of over a hundred. From his wide shoulders filling out the dark burgundy satin waistcoat trimmed in silver embroidery and intricately tied stark white cravat to the grey knee britches that emphasized his strong thighs and long legs, encased in white silk stockings and satin shoes. Never had a gentleman taken her breath away as Anton did that night. Had she looked closer she would have recognized him as her brother’s oldest friend, but she had not seen Anton in eleven years, not since she was nine, and those years had done wonders and altered his appearance immensely. Gone was the sometimes awkward, thin and always quiet fourteen-year-old replaced by a confident, handsome gentleman of twenty-five. Her love didn’t die when he did, but her mourning had been torn between the loss of her husband and her brother.
Natalie sighed and looked up at Tess. “The man I loved, and who I thought loved me, would have never locked me in a cell. The Anton I once knew would never believe I was capable of betraying him.”
She took a deep, fortifying drink. Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them away. She would not cry and she certainly would shed no more tears over her husband. She had cried too many already when she thought he were dead.
Bitterness rose up from within. So, what to do about him? She didn’t know. At the moment, her anger was too strong. He could wait on her, even if she made him wait two long, bloody years as she had. Then perhaps she would forgive him. If she could ever find it in her heart to do so.
“Atwood thinks it best if you remain here, even after the others return to the school.”
“I cannot be away from teaching. It is unfair to Mrs. Wiggons and the students.” The last thing she could concentrate on right now was her students, nor was she positive she had the patience to deal with the girls.
“But, you will be safer here,” Tess insisted.
“I don’t think he will hurt me, at least not now.” Of that she was confident. Had Anton wished to do her real harm, he would have left her in the cage or killed her.
“Nothing stopped your husband from taking you the first time,” Tess reminded her.
“I will need to think on it.” She paced before the bright fire. Though the warmth reached her skin, she still rubbed her arms, chilled from the revelations of the day. There was nothing to protect her at the school. Anton could approach and talk to her at any time.
She shook off the thought and returned to the table for her glass. It was empty. Without saying a word, Atwood refilled it and placed it in her hand. Tess remained seated, brows furrowed, causing wrinkles above her nose and forehead that should not yet be there for someone her age. Natalie wished she could offer reassurance that she would be fine, but she wasn’t sure she could at this juncture. She returned to pacing before the fireplace and sipping the dark liquid.
If she did return to the school, no harm would come to the girls or other teachers. If Anton grabbed her again, Atwood would track him down.
On the other hand, she did not want to be reachable. She turned to Tess. “I believe I will stay for a few days, if Mrs. Wiggons can spare me. I don’t think Anton would harm me, but I am not ready to face him, and there is nothing to keep him from me at the school.”
A grin blossomed on Tess’ face.
Natalie couldn’t help but return her friend’s smile. A few days away from the girls, her duties as well as her husband was exactly what she needed. “I think I will retire. We can discuss this further in the morning.”
Tess stood then walked her to the stairs. “Be sure and call for me if you need anything. We’ve put you in the room across the hall, the one you stayed in before.”
Natalie placed a hand on her friend’s arm in reassurance. “I am sure I will be fine. The shock has worn off and right now I am simply exhausted.”
“Good night then,” Tess called after her.
Natalie nodded. She would not be surprised if Tess did check on her at one point just to make sure all was well. Though there was no need to worry, it warmed her heart to know someone did care for her well-being. Unlike her husband.
Sophia’s eyes widened. She turned to Rosemary and Eliza. They shared the same look. They were trapped. “We have to go back to the door,” she insisted.
“There is a ghost back there.” Rosemary’s voice shook with what Sophia assumed was fear.
Sophia thrust the torch at Rosemary and grabbed two unlit ones from high on the wall. She could barely reach them. The waterline along the wall was at eye level. They needed to move to higher ground now, before it was too late.
“Would you rather drown?” Eliza asked. She grabbed two more torches as they made their way to the back of the cave.
Sophia kept her eye on the stained waterline as she climbed and stopped when it disappeared. They were but a few feet from the door. “This is the safest place until the tide goes back out.”
Eliza laid the dry torches behind them against the door. Sophia placed the lit one in the sconce on the wall. The three girls settled on the floor and huddled together. When the first torch began to die, Eliza lit a new one so that they would have light throughout the night. Before long they were able to watch the water rise until it lapped the ground not far from their feet.
“Are you sure we will be safe?” Rosemary asked. She was seated between Eliza and Sophia, her arms linked with theirs.
“We should be.” Eliza glanced at Sophia when she answered.
She was simply grateful Eliza wasn’t seeing this as a grand adventure any longer but a very serious and dangerous situation. “How long before the tide goes out?”
“I don’t think until morning?” Eliza answered.
“We are going to be in such trouble after this,” Rosemary observed.
“Assuming anyone finds out.” Eliza grinned.
Well, at least Eliza was planning mischief for the future, and not now. But even this situation limited her abilities.
15
They collected each various and uncommon circumstance attendant on this part of the
fabric; and, comparing them with the present, their superstitious fears were confirmed,
and their terror heightened…
A Sicilian Romance
Ann Radcliffe
Natalie sighed and flopped onto her back. Why couldn’t she sleep? She should be exhausted. It wasn’t like she slept last night for more than a few hours. Heat infused her cheeks when she recalled how she and Anton had become reacquainted as husband and wife. Time must have dimmed her memories, because she didn’t recall making love to be so pleasurable, or passionate.
With a huff, Natalie rolled over and punched her pillow. She would not think of Anton in any favorable light. He lied to her—she ticked the reasons off in her head—used her last night, all the time knowing what he planned, and locked her in a cell. Worse, he thought she betrayed him.
She sat up. There would be no sleep tonight, so she might as well give up. Maybe the fact that she had been unconscious, so to speak, was sleep enough. She blew a stray hair from her face and stood. The room was chilled and Natalie rubbed her arms as she walked toward the fireplace where she picked up the poker and stirred the embers. She added a few more pieces of wood to the fire in the hope of encouraging a stronger flame. Warmth radiated from the fire and Natalie settled back onto the rug, her knees pulled to her chest, stretching her gown over her legs and locked her arms around them. What to do about Anton?
The knock at the door was not unexpected. Natalie assumed Tess would eventually check on her. “Come in.”
The door opened and Tess stuck her head in. “I thought you would be awake. Do you mind if I come in?”
“No, please do.”
Tess, in her nightshift with a crimson robe opened over it, entered carrying a tray with a bottle of wine and three glasses. She placed it on the floor and sat beside Natalie. She filled the glasses beyond what was normally done in polite society. Did Tess plan on them drinking the entire bottle?
A moment later a second knock sounded. Claudia popped inside and closed the door beh
ind her. She too was ready for bed and also carried a bottle of wine as well as a plate of cakes. It didn’t take long before Claudia settled comfortably next to her friends and accepting a full glass from Tess. “This reminds me of when we were younger, and students.”
“Except then we drank chocolate.” Tess giggled.
A smiled pulled at Natalie’s lips. These were her best two friends in the world and she was so thankful to have them, especially at a time like this.
Claudia laughed. The light from the fire cast a gold halo around her blond head and there was a mischievous twinkle in her friend’s blue eyes. “Mrs. Wiggons has given me leave of my duties.” She grinned. “She thinks it best if I remain here, with you and Tess, to help you through this time.”
Natalie’s shoulders slumped in relief. She could face anything and make the right decisions with these two friends by her side.
“So, Claudia and I were wondering,” Tess began. “We know you were married and that your husband and brother were killed before leaving Russia, but you never told us anything else.” She hinted without outright asking.
Natalie sighed. She supposed she needed to tell someone, then perhaps she could put everything into perspective.
“First of all, how did the two of you meet?” Claudia leaned forward with excitement. One would think Natalie was about to deliver the most earth-shattering piece of gossip the ton had ever heard.
“Actually, I met him when I was very young. He was my brother’s best friend from about the time they were eight or nine. I can’t really remember. I am five years younger than they.”
“So, you have always loved him?” Tess prodded before she sipped from her goblet.
“No, I barely noticed him.” Natalie laughed. “After they went off to school, I hardly saw my brother, let alone Anton. Then, Father returned to his post with the ambassador in London and I was sent to the school.”
“All those years?” Claudia sighed. “You never saw him or your brother once?”
Ghosts from the Past (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies) Page 9
