My bedroom looked out over the gardens at the back of the house, from two long windows. I opened the shutters out on the right side of one and the left side of the other, thus creating a screen so nobody could see me from outside.
I didn’t look at Richard as I dropped the wrapper on the floor and lifted the night-rail over my head.
I stood still, I don’t know for how long, and then I dared to glance across to where he sat. It must be obvious what had been done to me. I didn’t need to explain once he’d seen the clusters of red pinches and bruises, some of them now darkening to blue, concentrated in the most private parts of my body.
I saw I was right. It needed no explanation. I bent, retrieved my night-rail, and slipped it back on with shaking hands.
White-faced he rose, came across the room, and helped me back into my wrapper. Then he took me into his arms and I rested my head on his shoulder. I let myself cry then, the first time I had allowed myself any self-pity. He stood, holding me in silence until I had myself under control again. He said nothing. There was no need.
We went back to the fire, where he saw me seated before he went into my dressing room, and returned with a damp cloth and a towel. He carefully wiped my face clean of the tears, and gave me the towel afterwards, then took them away again, and came back to resume his seat.
I broke the silence. “It was all Terry. Except the rope burns on my wrists; they were from when we were first taken. He beat Tom until I did what he wanted. He didn’t rape me, Richard, although he planned to.” If I hadn’t been looking I would have missed Richard’s slow indrawn breath, a sign that he was fighting to retain control of himself.
I told him everything. I explained Tom’s despair, my forced compliance. I spared him nothing, although I dearly wanted to. It was the first time I’d felt any protective instincts towards Richard, the need to spare him, but I knew he had to know now, before any of it had time to fester, or he heard from anywhere else. He listened, still and silent, his elbows on the arms of his chair, his chin resting on his linked hands, pale and grim faced.
When I finished, silence fell once more. I heard the sounds of normal domestic activities over the house, so normal, and I felt at peace for the first time in days. Whatever he decided, nothing was hidden between us. I watched him assimilate what I’d just told him, wondering what his reaction would be, if he would still feel the same about me, whether this would come between us, as Terry had intended it to.
“My poor love,” he said after a long time. “I should have thought more clearly. If I hadn’t taken the Cawntons, perhaps Terry wouldn’t have come near you.” He swore softly. “And my damned temper drove him to take you, too. If I hadn’t taunted his daughter he might not have taken you, either.”
I tried to find reasons for Terry’s vicious behaviour. Richard’s manner to his daughter didn’t excuse abduction. “He seemed eager to get involved in everything. We were held at his house. He wanted to show us how powerful he was, how much under his control we were.”
Richard dropped his head into his hands, but when he looked back at my face his eyes were clear, if a little bright, and his face smooth. “I could kill him for this. For what he did, and what he might have done to you.”
“Revenge?” I didn’t want Richard to sully his soul by doing this. I would not let him do it, because I knew how much his principles meant to him.
“Not entirely. Though that will add spice to the encounter. Terry is a smuggler, and he will be brought to justice. There’s no escape for him, we have too many witnesses, too much evidence. If he is tried and convicted, his property will be forfeit to the Crown. His wife, his daughter, all his dependants will be left destitute and the whole district will become notorious.”
My brother and Sir George would have to take part in the trial, as witnesses. Nobody won. “So if Terry dies before the trial—”
“Before the authorities come for him...”
I nodded. “I shan’t dissuade you. Not this time. I won’t bring any discredit to you, and he would make sure ugly rumours were spread. He’s seen my body, he knows the natural marks on it and he knows enough to make it believable. That’s why I want him dead. Only I want to be there. I want to see it, perhaps even do it myself.”
“It’s your right, if you wish it. Only, understand if you take a man’s life in cold blood it saps some of your humanity, makes you a little harder. Is it worth it?” He watched me intently.
“Yes.” I met his direct gaze without a qualm. “I didn’t know how vile a person could be until Wednesday. That took away some of my humanity, and forced me to understand a lot more than I ever wanted to. I want this.”
“It will have to be soon. Monday perhaps.” He still watched me carefully. I could show him no doubts.
I was sure. “Yes, I know, I’ll be ready.”
I felt the side of my cup to see if my chocolate was still warm enough to drink. It was, so I picked it up and drank, then replaced the empty cup with a sharp click. “Richard?”
“Yes?”
I knew what I wanted to do regarding Terry, but I also knew what he had done to me might put barriers between us, might repulse another man. I didn’t think I could bear it. “I don’t know how to phrase this. It might be clumsy, excuse me if it doesn’t come out right, but...” I paused, trying to find the words, and then gave up, and blurted it out, “Does this make any difference? To us? I mean—can you still want me as you did before?” I stopped, not knowing how else to put it to him. “If you don’t want me any more, say so now, and I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll cry off.”
His face darkened. He rose from his chair in one swift movement, crossed to me, and dragged me to my feet. If I had doubted him before, his kiss put all my doubts to rest. Needy, more desperately passionate, he consumed me, burned all Terry’s vile touches from my body.
“Blame you for what that bastard did to you?” he murmured, his arms tight about me. “I should sooner blame myself. No, my sweet life, on Thursday next I shall kiss every one of those bruises, do my best to help you to forget there has ever been anyone else there but me.” I had to believe him, and the thought of it thrilled me, sent shivers of desire through me. “This changes nothing between us, unless it’s altered you.”
I shook my head, pulled him down again for another kiss, and then I rested my forehead on his shoulder, dizzy with relief. “Some men might—oh, I don’t know. Only you didn’t seem to want to touch me.”
“I was too angry, too horrified. Why anyone should want to do that to a woman passes my understanding, much more so because it was you.” He kissed the top of my head. “Though I must say I hadn’t thought of vomit as a weapon before.”
I laughed, despite the memory of that vile room and its owner, and he smiled at me. “Come, that’s better. Don’t let it defeat you, think ahead. On Monday we kill someone, and on Thursday we marry.”
Said like that it seemed unreal, both events so removed from normal existence. I felt lighter, as if a burden had gone from me. I remembered my friend who had shared the ordeal with me. “Do you know how Tom is?”
“His father took him home and said he would put him straight to bed. From what you’ve said he took quite a beating, but he’ll recover.”
“He’s promised to dance at my wedding,” I said quietly, almost to myself. I hadn’t told Richard that part—what Tom had said in that little room. I don’t even know if I believed it myself now, after so much had happened to us.
He pushed me gently down into my chair again and sat opposite me. “I should never have taken the Cawntons. And that reminds me—” He reached into his pocket and brought out my betrothal ring. He leaned forward to slip it back on my finger, smiled, kissed my hand and leaned back once more.
I looked at the ring and felt all was right again, back in its place, while Richard told me something of his experience. “When the Cawntons came to see us, we didn’t want to believe it at first. They showed us your ring, and Tom’s fob, and explained it was purely business and no
harm would come to you if their demands were met. It was too good to be true—Cawnton came to the house with only his brother for company, trusting in our positions as gentlemen.” He gave a sharp laugh. “Idiots. So we took them. When I talked to him he seemed a reasonable man, and I have every hope with Terry out of the way, he’ll manage matters much better, with far less violence. He knows what happened to the Hawkhurst gang when they became too violent—” He saw my frown. “No? Well, they found themselves a new leader, and he turned out a brute, ruling by terror, so the authorities found they couldn’t ignore him any more. The gang was crushed inside six months.”
“Were you—Thompson’s involved in any way?”
“Us? No—well, perhaps in a small way.” He laughed shortly. “I try not to interfere unless I’m asked. Thompson’s may have been in a position to provide the authorities with some information, that’s all. But Cawnton knew about it, and he’s seen sense. It’s the best we can hope for until the business of smuggling is dealt with in Parliament. From your description, Terry seems much more unreasonable. My only excuse is I didn’t know how unreasonable he was, how arrogant he had become.”
“Did you know he was involved, then?”
“I had enquiries in train when you were taken. He has quite a few Thompson’s men in his household, so getting information was easy.” He paused. “His wife has delusions of grandeur, of moving in high society. That can be expensive, and may be what drove him to the easy profits he could make from smuggling.”
“I don’t think so, or not entirely. He thrives on power, on control. It must have been pleasant for him to know he controlled the supply of so many things to people. Whether they knew it or not they were beholden to him.”
There was a knock on the door and Lizzie came in. She paused on the threshold as she saw us, and to my surprise, she burst out laughing. “You look like an old married couple, sitting discussing the day’s events. Where’s the maid?”
Richard grinned. “I sent her away.” He got up to offer Lizzie his seat. She declined and sat on the sofa at the foot of the bed, so he resumed his seat. “I needed a private word with Rose.”
Lizzie looked at him sharply. “More plans, sir? You’re as full of plots as our garden these days.”
He laughed. It was good to hear. “It’s my nature.”
“I only came to see how you were,” Lizzie said to me, “but you look much better.”
“You saw me last night?” I couldn’t remember.
She nodded before she shot Richard another look. “Yes, I’ve seen the marks,” he said. “Rose showed me.”
Lizzie’s face settled into unaccustomed, stern lines. “Martha and I saw them, but nobody else.”
I shrugged. “I’m fine. Only bruises. And no.”
I answered her unspoken question and her face relaxed when she understood. I hadn’t been raped. “I helped to put you to bed. Strang said you had slept most of the way home, and you were so pale. And where did you get those dreadful clothes?”
“I was sick on my brown riding habit,” I told her bluntly.
Richard smiled. “It’s about the only good to come out of the whole unsavoury affair. I never liked that riding habit. Brown isn’t the best colour for Rose.”
“I always told her so,” Lizzie agreed.
I let them talk. I found a piece of toast to eat and watched them talk about fashion and colours, wondering not for the first time why he’d chosen me and not my beautiful, frivolous sister. I was content, watching, listening, knowing I was home.
Eventually Lizzie realised I wasn’t joining in. “I wish I’d been there last night. To see that ship explode, it must have been thrilling. How was it brought about?”
“Don’t ask me,” I replied shortly. “A coup I wasn’t aware of.”
“Gervase,” Richard purred, a cat with a bowl of cream. “He’s always enjoyed sailing and swimming, and he’s skilled at handling seagoing vessels. He reminded me of the Armada—the way the English sent fireships amongst the huge unwieldy ships of the Spanish, to fire and scatter them. It seemed appropriate, here in the county where he was born, to emulate Drake.” He grinned. “It worked far better than we’d hoped. Gervase took the fireship as close as he dared and then he and his men took to the smaller rowing boat and rowed back further up the coast, where we’d left horses for them. I haven’t seen him yet, he went straight back to Exeter. I plan to go there later today to congratulate him.”
“Where did all these men come from?” asked Lizzie, agog.
“I have my sources,” he said mysteriously, sharing a knowing look with me. “I can put up a fair muster, if I put my mind to it.”
I had a sudden thought. “And those promises you made to Terry—about letting him use the land and barns—?”
Richard frowned. “How do you know about that? Did he taunt you with it?”
“No, we saw it.” I hadn’t told him about that, restricting my earlier account to the abuses the man had inflicted on us, but now I thought about it, it was a further abuse, to let us watch, so close. “There was a peephole in our prison, and he let us watch the negotiations. He thought he would humiliate you, and he wanted us to see. We couldn’t move, our hands were tied and there was a man behind us with a pistol at our heads.”
Richard took a deep breath and let it out again. “I did think of allowing him to capture me, to I find out where he was holding you, but my plans weren’t complete, and I decided against it.”
“We felt helpless,” I confessed, “just being able to watch, but he didn’t have it all his own way, did he?”
“Not at all. The promises we made were worthless, since I had no intention of allowing the cargo to reach the shore, much less the storerooms he planned to use.”
Lizzie laughed. “When I first met you, I thought you were the complete man of fashion. I didn’t think you knew any other world.”
Richard’s long fingers curled round the arm of his chair. “Many people make that mistake. It can be useful. I find it inadvisable to tell people more than they need to know.” Looking across at me he caught me holding my hand in front of a yawn.
“We must go now. I need you perfectly restored to health by Thursday.” He stood and came across to me, taking my hands in his. “I’ll go and see my brother and my parents in Exeter later today. But I’m not going there again until Wednesday night. I won’t leave you now.” I was so glad. “When you and Tom were taken we put it about you had both been taken ill. A severe chill, we said, so no one will think it odd if you’re not at home to visitors for a few more days.” He kissed my hands and dropped them, leaving the room on my smile.
Lizzie stayed to help me back to bed. “I don’t know how it is,” I confessed, “but I feel tired again.”
“Have your sleep out,” my sister advised me. “Take your time. As Strang said, you’re not at home to visitors for a while.”
“Are there many visitors?” I asked.
Lizzie pulled the covers back over me before she answered. “I should say. The world and his wife are beating a path to our door. They all want to see you of course, but they seem to be making do with me.” She dimpled prettily, and I smiled sleepily up at her, knowing she loved it all. She bent to kiss my cheek. “So you’re not to worry. I’m holding the fort.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I KEPT TO MY ROOM UNTIL the Sunday, when I attended church. I was relieved to see Tom there, but Richard kept me close, and there were so many people surrounding us afterwards I had no chance of a quiet word with my old friend.
Richard had made his plans, and he told me some of them as we rode towards Penfold Hall on Monday, with only Carier for company. This was in the nature of a quiet ride in the countryside, as far as Martha was concerned, to let me get some fresh air.
Mrs. Terry and her daughter were still in Exeter, living the high life, so Terry would be alone with the servants. I described the room where we’d been kept, where it was and how to get into it, and Richard listened attentively
, making sure Carier could hear. “We’ll make sure there’s no one left there.” Carier nodded in agreement. We wanted no witnesses.
We were all armed. A pistol weighed down each of my pockets. Richard had a more substantial sword than his usual dress foil, and a pocketful of those wicked little knives with which he seemed to be so adept. He told me they were Italian, called stilettos, and about the only thing of worth he had brought back from the Grand Tour. “I hadn’t the heart for it at the time, but perhaps a repeat visit one day might produce more. Should you like that?”
I smiled at him. “I should like it much. I’ve often yearned to see more than my own native shores,”
“Then you shall,” he said warmly. I knew he was trying to lighten my apprehension. It didn’t work.
I hadn’t felt at all nervous as we rode together towards Penfold. However, when the roofline of the house loomed before us out of the horizon the bile rose in my throat. I knew if Richard suspected I was in the least worried, he might well send me home, so I fought to stay calm. I must see this through, for my own peace of mind, so the smile stayed on my face and I held my head up to the wind when we rode into the courtyard.
Carier took the horses to the back of the house, so they wouldn’t be seen by any casual caller. Then he would go up to the secret room and make sure no one was secreted there.
Someone let us in immediately, before we had time to sound the knocker. They must have seen us coming. A superior-looking footman in livery took us straight up to the study.
The house was quiet with most of the occupants absent, and our footsteps on the wooden stairs reverberated around the house. Terry waited for us. He didn’t stand when we entered, but leaned back in his chair, smiling broadly.
“Stay outside,” he said to the footman, and the man went out of the room to stand guard on the door.
Terry put his hand to his chin, and regarded us thoughtfully. “A pleasure to see you both. Won’t you sit down?”
Richard seated me and then himself, on two of the hard chairs available. It was a larger room than it had seemed from my prison on high, and well kept, smelling of lavender and polish. It would have been a pleasant room, if not for its occupant.
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