Barrington heaved a tight breath. "So will you, Beakes. I received your message with the pipe to my skull." He patted his ribs. "He left a beauty stabbing me here." He released Amora's fingers and stepped to Beakes, so close the man couldn't miss a jot of Barrington's meaning. "I can take anything you can bring, but not in my house, not near my wife. Get out."
His solicitor nodded to his two grunt-like associates. They exited the parlor. "Norton, I didn't send anyone to attack you, but dealing with the Dark Walk Abductor can get you killed. I'm about the law. We all want justice."
He scanned Beakes's countenance. The smooth smirk, the rigid set of his jaw were all normal looks for him. If he didn't send the message, For Her, who did? Barrington shook his head, anger pulsed in his veins. "The law is personal to me. See yourself out."
Beakes frowned and then marched to the front door. "I'll keep looking for Mr. Miller. If he crosses your path, send him to the magistrate. I'd hate to darken your portico again and drag you off to Newgate, too."
As soon as the skunk was on the other side of the threshold, Barrington dropped to the floor. He slumped against the sofa, placed a palm on Amora's stomach and prayed. They were no longer trapped by lies any more. Everything was in the open. God had to be with them now. He had to be.
Amora's fingertips swept across his temples. "Go find Mr. Miller. He needs you, too."
Nothing in his life meant more than being at his wife's side. What if this shock took a deeper toll? "Miller will keep or I'll find and save him later. I'm not leaving you."
Her violet eyes dimmed. "You have to think of how to clear his name. He needs you."
"Amora, don't you want me with you?"
"He could be hurt. You can send for a doctor for me, for both of us when you find him."
Not believing her brave talk, he pressed her hand to his mouth. "You hate doctors."
"I'll be fine."
She'd rather have doctors about her than him? He took off his spectacles. "Well, I won't be fine, Amora." His soul ached. But he wasn't leaving, even if she wanted him to. "You're in my thoughts, my blood. And if you shed ours tonight, I'll be with you."
With a slow ragged breath, Amora lifted a hand to him. It fell upon his lapel. "But Mr. Miller's in trouble. Cynthia's jailed. I know how it pains you. I understand, it's like my finding Sarah. I finally understand what drives your spirit."
He scooped Amora into his arms and headed for the steps. "I'm putting you to bed. I'll go nowhere until I know all is well."
Her voice was low and soft. "Sure?"
His boot met the first tread and then the next. "You come first."
Kicking open her door, he navigated to the bed. Layer after layer - her jacket, her tucker - he stripped her until she wore nothing but a chemise. One, two. First one boot, then his other went flying. "May I sit next to you, or will that make you hurt, Amora?"
Her eyes opened. She held a weak palm to his chest. "I'm in pain if you're not here beside me when I awake."
A tremor set in his cheek. It was the fever talking, but it melted his heart. He laid next to her, coddling her until she stopped trembling.
The heat from the fireplace in her brightly lit bedroom brought moisture to Amora's brow. Hours, maybe a day had passed since her husband brought her home. She squinted at the people gathered in her room, Mama, Barrington and his cousin. All must've come to Mayfair, her bed chambers to help.
She should take another sip of the strong tea Mama had made. The chamomile and herbs tasted bitter, but soothed the rawness in her throat. "May I have some more?"
Barrington lifted the cup to her lips. Attentive and sweet, he sat on the bed. His glasses were skewed. He pushed at his rolled up shirt sleeves, moving the wrinkled linen to his elbows as if that would make it better. "Would you like something to eat?"
Mama lifted from her chair and stroked Amora's temples. "I could get some broth and crusty bread."
She pushed at the cup. Barrington lowered it to the bed table.
"I'm not hungry, but I am feeling better." Physically that was true, but right now her heart raced. Was the baby well? As if caught in slow motion, she moved her fingers from the blanket's edge, past the lace of her chemise stopping upon her abdomen. It felt full. The sheets and mattress were clean.
Barrington's warm palm covered hers. "You didn't miscarry."
Mr. Solemn, Barrington's cousin, stood in the door. "No, not this time. I suggest whatever you two were doing before this occurred to stop."
The man had a humor similar to Barrington's, but she couldn't laugh. She was too busy staring at her husband. A smile lifted her lips. "You stayed."
Mama picked up her balls of yarn. "The booties will take a while to complete. You need to keep that grandbaby safe. Lucky for us, Mr. Solemn knows herbs as well as me. They helped." She tugged at the Mechlin lace shawl draping her shoulders and headed for the door. "Mr. Norton, do a better job keeping my girl safe. You promised me and her late father."
He dipped his head and nodded.
"Well, cousin, Mrs. Norton. I'll go downstairs for a few. I'll wait for you, cousin."
Mama nodded as she and Mr. Solemn left the room.
Amora lifted Barrington's chin. "You are doing a fine job, but you know you can't always protect me. Now, please tell me we found Sarah. Let me not have dreamed it."
Barrington stood up and paced. His countenance bore a cross between confusion and anger. "We found her. You didn't dream it. Nor was it a dream. You were reckless. You could've been hurt. Miss Calloway is…"
"Say it, Barr. She's insane, crazed because of what the Dark Walk Abductor did."
"Yes." He stopped and clutched the top of the canopy. "She could've hurt you, could've strangled you in the dark."
"I needed to help you."
"How does it help me if you are hurt?" He folded his arms behind his back and started pacing again. "Let's examine the things you've done to help me. One, you omitted telling me about your abduction. Two, you fall off a cliff saving me from falling. Three, you prance around nearly naked in front of Beakes to keep me from Newgate."
"Yes, keep adding up the points against me, Barrister."
For a moment, his lips curled up. "Actually, the prancing is a point in your favor. I rather like that one, but I'm not done. Four, you shrouded yourself in darkness, placing yourself in the arms of a mad woman—all to keep my hide from Newgate. I belong in Newgate or Bedlam, if it means you would be safe and well."
She tried to rise, but the tiredness in her limbs was too great. Instead, she rolled to her side and looked at the velvet box of notes. "Could you write down that we found Sarah for me?"
"Are you listening to me, Amora?"
She fingered the nape of the box. "I'm well. You heard Mama and your cousin."
His footfalls sounded closer. When she glanced up, he hovered over her tucking and re-tucking the blankets about her. "Did you hear the part about stopping?"
"I have to know what happened to me. We can stop the monster."
He undid his horribly mangled cravat. It dripped down his neck as he opened his shirt. "We know enough. You were abducted and held captive by the Dark Walk Abductor."
"I want to remember if I saw his face. Then you could convict him."
The groan leaving him vibrated in his chest. "I am not finished with my statement, Lady Justice."
He sat on the bed and eased her head onto his lap. "We also know Gerald Miller attempted to rescue you and the other captive, Miss Druby. Both met your abductor's wrath. Gerald was pummeled senseless. Miss Druby's life was taken. You and Sarah and others were locked away in the Priory's cellars until…"
His voice diminished to nothing. He stroked her forehead. The feather light sensation and his clean bergamot smell should have calmed the growing fear pitting in her stomach. "Until what?"
He gathered her in his arms, spun her toward him so she could see his face. "Until consenting to his rape. That is why he released Miss Calloway. It had to be why he relea
sed you."
Everything ached all at once. How could Barrington believe she'd consent? "Never."
She beat at Barrington's arms, at his chest, but he held her fast.
"Hit at me. Take the evil out on me, but don't lose your reason like the others."
Tears welled in her eyes, though she clung to Barrington. "It's not true. If we went to the Priory, we could figure out how I escaped. It couldn't have been by--."
"We don't have to see it."
No. She couldn't accept it. Thinking of the monster touching her, taking away her dignity, her promise to the man she loved. "We should go to the Priory and walk those grounds. If I see it, smell it, all my memories would return."
He kissed her brow. "No."
"But it's been so wonderful working together. It's meant the world to investigate with you."
"Finding Sarah Calloway almost cost our babe, Amora. We can't risk your health, not anymore."
It took all her strength to pull away from his safety. He couldn't see her as weak. Not now. "We can go at the brightest part of the day. We can..."
"No." He ran a hand over his hair pushing the low curls into place. "The man came at each of you in the dark. I doubt any memory will illuminate his face. And if it did, you could lose your wits like the rest. You don't want the memory of it. And I don't want to share our bed with him."
A shiver raced her skin. How could he accept this?
He took one of her hands and held it, his thumb rubbed the soft space between her knuckles. "All of his victims were abused by an act meant to show love. Why must you remember that?"
She gripped the lace of her collar, bunching it about her neck. "You think I gave my consent to him?"
"None of the women were released until they consented to his rape. If Miller didn't get the chains off of your door, the blackguard did."
Air leaked from her lungs. The thudding of her heart within her ear deafened. She couldn't have let the monster have her. Were the screams in her nightmares her own? "Where is Mr. Miller? He could tell you what happened."
"I don't know where he is. And I doubt that he would disagree with my conclusion. Remember, the Dark Walk Abductor had already attacked him and killed Miss Druby before coming for you."
No, the monster couldn't have claim to any of her. She'd resisted him every day. "No, Barr. It can't be."
Barrington shifted and tugged her into his arms again. "The mind does things to protect us. You must be protected and treasured."
"I didn't consent. I couldn't have." She pounded her fists against his chest, then melted into him. She couldn't fight his logic or his strength. "I never said yes."
"Sweetheart, I know. Consent under duress is not true consent." His nostrils flared as his voice became low. "I don't think your monster asked. I think he took what he wanted."
She reared back. Could it be true?
Barrington massaged her neck. His fingers tried to ease the tension in her muscles, but she didn't want to be touched. She shrank away.
Her husband stood up causing the mattress to shake. He paced as he did in the Old Bailey when he made an argument. "Enraged over Miss Druby's attempt at escaping, the Dark Walk Abductor took his wrath out on them, flattening Miller's skull, strangling the life from her. Then he turned to you, and took what he wanted."
She absorbed his words like kerosene or whale oil on a flame. "I want him to pay. I have to remember to make him pay."
Barrington wiped at his mouth but the grim lines remained unchanged. "Don't remember anymore. Let me be the only one holding you in your memories."
"I have to know. You've never settled for half the story. Papa and I watched one of your early trials. You were relentless in seeking the truth."
"That was before the war. I was brash and young." He reached out and wrapped a lock of her hair about his pinkie. "You were too. If a life was in jeopardy, it might be worth it, but the only lives at risk are yours and the babe. I won't let you succumb to madness. I can't stand around, as I did today, watching you risk your life."
"But that means the monster wins."
"Look at me, Amora. The only thing that stays in my skull is keeping my wife safe. I'd rather be in Newgate than watch you riddled with pain. I've never paced or prayed more. I kept hoping your mother's whipped up brews or my cousin's commands would slow your contractions. I even sent for your vicar, but he wasn't available. I can't be this helpless again. I can't."
He plodded to the window, parting the curtains to let in the moonlight. She must have been sick for a long time.
"Remembering this fiend will hurt you." His posture sagged as he turned to face her. "You almost miscarried remembering the darkness he kept you in. Can't we let this alone for the child's sake? Don't you want this child?"
"What? How can I hope for something God will take from me?"
His lips twisted as if she'd rejected him. She wasn't rebuffing Barrington, just the notion that she could be fully happy.
"I see."
She wrapped her arms about her to keep the chill in his tone from freezing her. "I want to be strong again. Someone you can respect. That won't happen if I'm always lost to my memories."
"I didn't realize my opinion meant so much."
She pulled up her knees and tucked her head atop them. "It means the world. Always has."
He moved from the window and headed for the door. When his hand touched the knob, he stopped and turned again, catching her gaze. "I am just a man, a flawed man. If the need of my good opinion has kept you in bondage, let me help you. The one thing I had right the night we conceived this second miracle was to say you are mine no matter what. I meant it then. To love and keep you today and every day for the rest of my life, it was my dream."
Was?
"Whatever happens tomorrow, remember that God freed you long ago. He let you live through the Priory. He's kept you sane."
"Not permanently." She wrenched backward and ducked onto her pillow. "You saw that today."
A long, heavy sigh escaped. Maybe he felt every ounce of her despair. "God made you wonderful. And I know He wants you to look to Him for approval, not your ill-tempered, judgmental husband. I know He wants us to find joy."
Barr latched onto her gaze. He made his words slow and even. "I want you to find joy, even if we lose this child and have no more."
She turned her face away and imagined running hard and fast on Tomàs land. "I can't think about anything but proving to myself I didn't break my promise to you, that I didn't consent to the monster. With my lies to marry you, it would be too much."
Barrington shook his head. "What will it take to get through to you?"
She rose up and pleaded once more. "Take me to the Priory. Be with me as I figure things out."
"I nearly lost you tonight, Amora. I can't do this again. I'm not strong enough. Promise me to stay in bed the next couple of days. Your body needs to recover."
Head down, Barrington plodded from the room.
He wasn't going to let her find the truth.
Why couldn't he understand?
Without the truth, how could they truly be free to love?
Something inside burned. Not the baby. A little higher, dead center of her heart.
Drop after drop leaked, but she kept her moans silent. She didn't want anyone to come crashing inside and think her more fragile.
Even a glass vessel couldn't be satisfied without the truth.
When they first courted, Barrington hated any other male, particularly the Charleton brothers, visiting Tomàs Manor. That's why he fought with the younger Charleton the night of the dowager's party. That's where his continued irritation at the vicar originated.
But needing to know wasn't about Barrington. It was about Amora and what she knew she needed to be whole. The truth would set her free.
Ignoring the tingle set low in her abdomen, Amora smoothed the bedclothes. It wasn't right to be so selfish, to risk all for what Barrington thought a forgone conclusion. But how was she to br
ing this baby, any baby, to term with so much uncertainty oppressing her?
She balled her fists. A hunger to be stronger whipped over her limbs. "God, if you love me, can't I know the truth without having anything else taken away?"
With a hand on her child, she ducked into her pillow and wept anew.
Chapter Three: The Truth & Miller
Barrington sat back in his carriage annoyed at himself for leaving Mayfair. Yet, how could he not resist his cousin's insistence or the man's humor?
Life had fallen apart again. All of Barrington's so called help for Amora lead to the same place, her in pain and potentially the loss of another child. He shifted in his seat. "We should head back, Hudson."
Hudson offered a smile. It was a cross between I'll-humor-you-you-witless-fool and you-amuse-me-you-witless-fool. "You need some fresh air, and there is something I must show you."
Barrington nodded holding inside his silent protest. Though Amora had rested a few hours without incident and without calling for him, she might need something. It wasn't quite 9:00 pm. Maybe she wouldn't awaken fretful and start those horrid contractions again. His insides tightened and twisted remembering her agony and how helpless he felt standing there knowing he'd allowed it.
"Cousin, you look terrible." Hudson's voice echoed in the carriage. "Your wife is alive. The child to come, as well."
Poking down at his hastily tied cravat, Barrington's nose wrinkled at the hint of musk hiding within his perspiration stained shirt. "I look terrible. I feel terrible. I'm not fit for anywhere fashionable. If you have other plans, take me back to Mayfair. I need to be there for her or if Miller returns."
With a shake of his head, Hudson laughed. "Only so much you can do and stay upright yourself."
The man had paced as much as Barrington until Amora improved. Perhaps he needed to see the goons that Beakes brought into Mayfair. Miller was a dead man if they caught him. Well, dead again.
"And I don't do fashionable, Norton. I don't try to fit into places that don't want me either."
Oh, here comes the lecture. Barrington groaned inside. "Just when I remember to admire your good qualities, that irascible nature returns. Wait until your sister comes of age. You will do anything for her." For her.
Unveiling Love: A Regency Romance (A London Regency Romantic Suspense Tale Book 4) Page 3
