His mouth fell on hers, his tongue willing her lips to part. Resistance her only hope, she clenched her buttocks tight, arced her back again and this time her fingers gripped the candelabra with ease. She lifted the candelabra and brought it over her head. It crashed down on the earl’s shoulder before his dastardly deed was concluded and her virginity then lost. The base caught him a passing blow to the side of his head. As luck would have it, he keeled over and slid off the chaise to floor.
Horrified, she gathered her wits, then upped and ran from the scene of two men on the floor: one drunk and the other perhaps dead though no blood from the earl’s head upon the rug. She rushed to her bedchamber, where she soon applied bolt as well as lock and key to door. She would be safe for the time being.
~
Weary from a sleepless night and now ten of the clock, the house quiet she ventured from her bedchamber and down the staircase. Her intention was to slip out of the house: unseen. The quiet and stillness of the place was abruptly shattered by voices raised in argument. Already assured her brother was well and Moorby none the worse for a night of imagined over indulgence of wine, at least his being alive was some consolation she supposed for she now knew she had not killed him.
A maid had found the pair asleep in the blue room first thing, and luckily the full facts of their behaviour the previous evening remained a secret. She had without any sense of guilt agreed with the maid both must have fallen asleep in a drunken stupor.
She crept close to the closed library doors, Ned’s words as clear as if she was standing in the very room with him. “You cannot be serious,” he said, in the manner she had of late come to dread. “We agreed terms, did we not?”
“We did indeed, your lordship, and had your sister obliged in my desire for a mere kiss to seal the betrothal, our agreement would be honoured in full.”
“I do not understand this sudden reluctance on Emerald’s part, for it was her wish to be sure this estate was safe for future generations of Penhaveans.”
“Nor I,” returned the earl, a long drawn sniff, and then another. She could well imagine snuff on the back of his hairy hand. A shiver of revulsion rippled down her spine, the memory of his hands upon her flesh detestable, his voice a reminder of the greater threat: unbidden attentions yet to come. He chuckled, and a second icy shiver of fear streaked down her spine. “Wild little filly, to be sure, and although she sought to kill me with a damnable candlestick, I will see my way to forgiveness on the proviso she comes to me before noon of her own volition and alone.”
“In what manner do you propose this forgive-ness you talk of?”
Had Ned not guessed the earl’s intentions? Had he no thought for her safety?
Silence hung heavy within the library, the weight of it pressing on her shoulders. Unable to see for herself but ear to door, she could imagine exchange of glances between her handsome brother and the boar-featured earl; saliva dripping from his mouth in anticipation of second close encounter with her.
“Come now, your lordship, would you have me deprived of a bit of a feel of your sister?” The earl drew breath, a sucked shuddering breath, as though delighting in the prospect of her in the room with him as happened before. “You know how it is, dear boy. A filly trotted up and down, a ride to try out its stride, and then exchange of money to conclude the transaction.”
“That’s outrageous?” exclaimed Ned. “You expect me to . . .”
“Go for a walk,” barked the earl. “Do what ever you must, and on my honour I promise it shall be no more than a look and a feel of what I am to get for my money.”
Silence again befell the room. On his honour, the beast had no honour and would have had her the night previous had not the candelabra served her well in sending him to black void and she able to escape his clutches. What next his plan to deceive and get his way?
“That, or I sell her as untried. Put her up for auction to the highest bidder,” snarled the earl. “Your estate in close proximity to the sea is not particular to my liking, so what say you we get this over and done with?”
“But she’s my sister, not a filly at a horse fair,” charged Ned, at last seeming to be on her side.
“In a drunken stupor you gambled on your sister’s hand for marriage, your lordship, and lost. Last night we agreed terms on a legal document to be drawn as surety of payment of all your debts, on proviso of my sampling your sister’s charms. Now it is up to you. Either I have her by noon or I sell her on.”
She could not bear their talk of her as though an animal. She turned and fled the house, and ran to the bridge. She ran down the steps, ran to the bend in the creek, the waters of the creek at ebb-tide and sand beneath her feet still damp. Almost out of breath she rounded the bend, and stark reality of no ship felled her. She sank down, loneliness and heartache the like she had never thought to feel.
Why had her buccaneer deserted in such a cruel manner; set sail, and not a word? They had agreed to meet again late afternoon, and if nothing else she would have pleaded to sleep a while in his arms if not able to sail away with him. Now, now she had to go back and face Ned and Moorby. She felt barely able to raise herself from the sand, a sleepless night most certainly taking its toll. She so wanted to sleep safe out of Moorby’s reach, for although her bedchamber could be locked and bolted overnight she could not remain there throughout the earl’s visit.
She retraced her footsteps, heart leaden. The bridge reached she sat upon the steps, tears flooding. How had it come to this? How could Ned be so irresponsible in gambling away the house, the estate, when already mortgaged beyond their means? What evil influence had possessed him, driven him to drink and to reckless gambling?
Once a loving brother, now a monster, she neither knew or understood this brother returned from war a hero, when so weak in other ways. He claimed nightmares drove him mad, that drink helped ease the pain, and gambling kept his mind occupied. What had happened to cause this change in him? Two years of Ned back at Penhavean, the estate coffers emptied and the life they had known now slipping from their grasp.
Sound of horses hooves and wheels stole her attention, for a carriage was on approach to the bridge and coming from the house. Could noon have passed, and Moorby on his way as threatened? Surely not, for it could not be more than half eleven and time enough to meet with the earl’s demands. She had to do something, any thing to save Penhavean and Ned from ruin. If not, her future would be more uncertain than before. At least as Moorby’s wife she would retain status that of a lady, and as Ned had said, provide a son for the earl and take a young lover.
She lunged forward skirts hitched in hand, turned and hurried up the steps, but the carriage was already rumbling over the bridge. Upon reaching the ride, breathless, she could only stand and stare as the carriage with pair-in-hand at the canter and speeding along the ride toward the main gates. It was Moorby’s carriage, but was he aboard or had he sent Ned on some fanciful errand?
To be so in doubt as to who would be waiting upon her return to the house was quite daunting. If it was Ned she feared his wrath, but he could not hurt her any more than he already had. If Moorby, she would have to surrender herself to him. He might think of her as his, for he would have her body. Her heart, though, would forever remain at Penhavean with Tobias, and a little of it somewhere at sea. For no matter her buccaneer’s desertion he had un-knowingly stolen a piece of her heart.
The house before her, she stepped up to the door fearing the worst. It was suddenly flung wide, Ned standing before her. “Where, where have you been?” She sensed him despairing their fate. “Have you any idea what has happened?”
“Of course I have, but we can get word to him, can we not? I shall apologise for my late return from a walk.”
“You saw him leave?”
There was no point telling an absolute lie. “I did, and would have hailed him had I ascended the steps by the bridge before his carriage passed beyond my calling.”
“We are ruined, Emerald, ruined, and I coul
d not, try as might, get Moorby to withdraw his claim upon you. I offered him the best of the horses, offered him things of value from the house, and he laughed in my face. He will see you sold to the highest bidder, and no amount of begging will have him reconsider you as his wife. Had you allowed the man a kiss and grope he would have escorted you to London a happy man.”
“Is that what you think, really, think Ned? Because if you do then you are a much bigger fool than I had come to realise. That beast, that utterly despicable beast molested me with every intention of having me as you intended the other night when drunk.”
“Rape, tried to rape you?” Tears welled in Ned’s eyes, and for the first time since his return from war he reached for her, drew her into his arms and sobbed in her hair. “I am so sorry, so sorry. Believe me, Emerald, if I could take back every harsh word I have thrown your way I would. If I could bring back Tobias, I would. If I could take away that night in which I acted no better than Moorby, I would. But this debt on IOU to the earl I cannot honour, cannot raise sufficient funds.”
“Ned, please,” she said, tears flooding forth, “think, think hard. There must be legal recourse to prevent trade of a woman in exchange for money. I am not a slave owned by the earl. I am a lady of rank.”
Ned drew breath and let slip his tight hold, his eyes once again revealing the old Ned she had so loved before his becoming a soldier. “My head is so full of suffering and misery, Emerald, that I dare not think, dare not let myself lapse into memories. Wine deadens the senses, and affords this ungodly wretch at least some restful state of oblivion.”
“What ever demons you have, Ned, you need to fight them, not allow them to overwhelm and consume your every waking thought.”
“Easier said than done, Emerald, but you are right, there has to be a way to stop Moorby, even if I have to call him to a duel in order to pig-stick him as he deserves.”
“No Ned, not that.”
“Then what?” he asked, clasping her hand, as together they strolled toward the blue room. “Would you rather I stab him down a dark alley. He frequents enough in search of gambling dens, as I well know.”
“We need a lawyer.”
“I cannot afford a lawyer, Emerald. We have no money.”
“I have my jewels, and mother’s. Enough for a lawyer, I feel sure.”
Light came to Ned’s eyes, as though a shadow of despair had slipped from his face. “I had quite for-gotten about mother’s jewels.”
“Just as well, in consideration of your recklessness in gambling away the roof over our heads and my . . .”
“Emerald, can you not see how sorry I am for what has happened?” he said, cutting her dead. “I have long hated the loathsome creature that has settled within me. I have on occasion thought to end the pain and the suffering of its evil influence.” Again, the shadow fell upon him. “I fear it, Emerald, fear its power over me. I fear a curse cast upon me by a man I neither knew nor cared about.”
She paused in the doorway, turned to face him. “Curse, what curse?”
“I had to do a terrible thing, and in doing it a man spat in my face and babbled some foreign gibberish. I naturally laughed off his rant as soldiers do. Then a sergeant, who had a grasp of the man’s tongue, warned me to be careful and to guard against letting loved ones come to any harm. He said I had been cursed, and the worst possible curse. A curse of death, shame and destitution, and I have, have I not, brought all three upon us.”
“Ned, I think I understand the torment you are in, but father’s death was an accident, a riding accident, and mother’s death due to ill health and fever. As for your gambling, you always were inclined to carding games as a child, and perhaps it was inevitable that you might take carding more serious as a grown man.”
“I shall never understand, you, Emerald, for you excuse my every sin . . . Well, almost every sin, and so willingly at that. You truly humble me.”
“Then humble brother had best away to London and try to fix this sorry mess we find ourselves in.”
“I shall, dearest sister, I shall.” He drew her hand to his lips. “Away to Lincoln’s Inn methinks and find us the best lawyer we can afford.”
“Ned, I’m putting my faith in you, for once the jewels are gone, as you rightly stated, we shall have nothing.”
“The sooner I go, the sooner we shall know our fate.”
Chapter Five
~
Seven weeks in London and only one letter from Ned in all that time. It was so brief as to merely impart knowledge of a lawyer secured. With no sleep for the last few days in worry of thinking it rash to have allowed him to go to London alone, she did not want to think the worst of him. But, with jewels in his possession might he have been tempted, tempted to gamble their value in hope of gain sufficient to be rid of Moorby?
On such a lovely June day she had thought a walk as far as the bridge would do her good. After all, four days and nights of endless rains, and a chill fever the like she had not suffered since a small child had befallen her. Once the bridge was reached her strength and will to stroll further ebbed, as though she had run all the way to the beach and back, when she had not even descended the steps nor walked along the creek. She leaned over the parapet; the waters below swirling and gushing beneath the stone structure as evening tidal swell rushed upstream.
Might her buccaneer return some day? She might never know, and it pained still to think him gone. The not knowing where and what he might be embroiled in was quite upsetting. How foolish to have thought of him as hers, for she knew nothing about him and no time to make subtle enquiry through Ned as to old acquaintances before he too, departed Penhavean.
Her favoured captain, as he was and always would be, had made it plain he was no friend of Ned’s. Why was that, what had Ned done or said, when both had served aboard the same ship? And what of Ned’s confession: “I had to do a terrible thing.” What had he done? And had her buccaneer witnessed Ned’s terrible deed? So many questions remained unanswered, and Ned was away far longer than anticipated.
Chill shivers rippled down her spine, and despite warmth from the sun she hauled a silk-tasselled satin shawl from loose rest of arms and snuggled it tight about her shoulders, the rustle of her gown was a terrible reminder of her imminent fate. It was, after all, the very gown worn the evening the earl had abused her trust in him, but new gowns were quite out of the question. She had to make do as best she could with what she had.
She glanced along the creek toward the bend heart aching for something that could never be, and so turned about and took her leave of the bridge. What if Ned had failed in his promised endeavour to secure her safe from unknown male clutches? Where might she end up?
As she strolled back toward the house a wild briar rose caught her eye. She could not resist the temptation to pluck one bloom, just one to take back and to press as a memento of Penhavean, for she would have to leave the estate, one day, perhaps soon. About to snap the rose from thorn clad stem, was it her heart beating wildly, or was it the thunder of horse’ hooves upon the ground? She swung round and indeed a horse was at the gallop, and on approach to the bridge from the other side of the creek.
It was Ned, and waving his hand in wild gesture as he reined to canter and thence to the trot; his news spilled forth in haste upon drawing level with her. “Penhavean is yours.” Hers, how could that be? He leapt from the saddle his arms about her in tight hug. “I shall miss the old place, but I know it will always be safe in your hands.”
“Mine, how can it be mine?”
“I failed to secure you safe from betrothal, but be assured you will not be bride to the Earl of Moorby, and this estate is a wedding gift from your future husband.”
Her heart sank at news of betrothal, and although Penhavean was hers what of the man who now presumed ownership of Emerald Lady Penhavean? “To whom, then, to whom have I been sold, Ned? What of the lawyer? You said in your scant letter that you had engaged a lawyer.”
“I did, and he did his bes
t to initiate proceedings against the earl for unjust repayment of debt by way of demanding a slave in payment, which, as we all know, slavery was abolished in this country a year past. Unfortunate for us, though, the courts of justice grind ever slow, and we simply failed in getting a court summons served before Moorby had passed my overall debt to another.”
“Who is this other, Ned, and why did the lawyer not pursue the case with him?”
“I withdrew the charge upon good reports of the man and, of his willingness to see you safe at Penhavean forever. And by all accounts his lordship is a handsome fellow of considerable means. Though I was given to understand his title has come to him quite recent on the death of his late uncle, Lord Welldon, Admiral of the fleet, and owner of a grand estate in Devonshire.”
“What of you, Ned? What does this all mean for you? And, when will this Lord Welldon require to see his purchases?”
“Steady up, Emerald, one question at a time,” said Ned, a laugh the like unheard in so long she could barely remember when it had last happened, though recalled an incident of his clinging to a branch of an old tree whilst sliding to the ground in a most undignified manner. “I have the chance of a new life in the Americas, as a partner in trade and commerce and two ships in my care to ply back and forth across the Atlantic Ocean.”
“All well and good, if that is really to your liking, but you love Penhavean, do you not? It was your inheritance, Ned. And, if I now own it I can give it to whomever I please, and I shall give it to you.”
He laughed again, caught up her hand and placed a kiss upon it. “I love Penhavean, yes, but not as you do, nor as you have all of your life. I have liked to think of it here, and I able to come back whenever it suited me to do so, but restlessness within me has always existed, Emerald. You know that and know that I love nothing more than adventure and exploration, and remember how I loved my time as a soldier aboard ship and when warring on land. Well, now I have a chance at a different kind of adventure. Come, let us walk to the house.” He grasped the reins of his horse; its nostrils flared though breathing not unduly laboured. “Good old Cornet, you did me proud today,” he said, a hefty pat to his favourite steed’s neck.
Her Favoured Captain Page 4
