by Alyson Chase
The fear fought back. With a groan, he descended into the darkness. Of course, there was no question he’d go down and find her, claustrophobia be damned. Because of Amanda, there were some things he feared more than being trapped. A life without Amanda was right there at the top.
He’d been a right arse. Thinking that a woman could trap him. That marriage was another prison. Amanda had shown him just how liberating loving a woman could be. He’d built his own walls, never letting a woman get too close, trying to safeguard his heart. She’d blasted right through them. She was his light guiding him out of the darkness.
And if he didn’t find Amanda alive and in one piece, Julius knew he’d be lost in the dark forever.
***
The skin around Amanda’s wrists burned, but she kept trying to wriggle her hands free from their bindings. The rope her kidnapper had used wasn’t the soft silk or hemp that she was used to. Nor was she accustomed to the panic she’d felt in the ropes when she’d awoken, face down on cold stone, with her arms bound behind her. The feeling of safety Julius created with his knotwork was gone, transformed into terror and pain.
If she survived this, Amanda vowed not to let this piece of filth ruin what she and Julius had found together.
No, she corrected herself, when she survived this. When she got out of here, she would take Julius’s hand, slip a length of rope into it, and let him choose what to do with her. The sense of freedom she had when bound to his bed was something she cherished and would fight for.
Laying on her right side, her back to the wall, she let her head sag to the floor. Everything ached. She rolled her shoulders and peeked at the man who’d taken her. The torch by the door sent flickering shadows over his face. He leaned against the wall of the small chamber they were in, arms crossed, tracing patterns in the dirt with his toe.
Bastard didn’t even have the decency to look abashed. He looked bored as he waited for the partner he’d said was coming. Amanda had asked what would happen to her then, but the man had smiled, told her not to worry.
She worried.
The pain in her upper arms started to dull as numbness crept into its place. Amanda closed her eyes and tried to collect herself. She was incapacitated and defenseless. There had been a time when she hadn’t wanted to be responsible. Now she wasn’t. Her fate laid in someone else’s hands. She should be ecstatic.
Tucking her knees into her chest, she curled into a ball. She was an idiot. Of course, she was responsible for herself. Just as she’d been responsible for her little sister. Every second that she’d questioned her actions, relived the moment when she’d fought off her father and plunged a knife into his side, all those recriminations were over.
She’d made a decision to protect herself and Liz. She’d taken the responsibility of stopping their father, and she wouldn’t regret it.
She would even repeat it if given the chance. Amanda opened her eyes and pressed her lips together. She would get out of here, even if she had to kill her captor to do so. She circled her wrists as much as the ropes allowed, not stopping when she felt blood trickle down her palms.
Her kidnapper tossed a glance over at her, and Amanda froze. He cleared his throat and spat something Amanda didn’t want to identify onto the floor. Sighing, he peered back down the narrow hallway.
Amanda tugged on her left hand. It shifted an inch. Her blood slickened her wrists, easing the way. She tugged again and bit back a whimper. She was sure she’d lost some skin, but her hand had moved another inch.
Something soft echoed in the distance, a steady beat growing louder. Her abductor pushed off the wall, coming to attention.
Amanda twisted harder. She might, might, have a chance against one man. Against two there was no hope.
Her hand popped free as a second man filled the small doorway. She swallowed back tears, her chest burning. Life just wasn’t fair. It was as though the fates were telling her not to even bother fighting back.
She was going to miss so much. Laughing with her sister. Being a doting aunt to Liz’s children. Enjoying whatever time was left of Julius’s touches.
Her heart squeezed. It was that last one that would be her final living thought. It would keep her warm as the darkness crept in.
The two men talked in low tones before turning towards her. They filled the small chamber, looming over her as they stepped close. A blade glittered in her abductor’s hand.
Yes, she would think of Julius in her last moments, not of pain or fear. She closed her eyes and put a picture of him in her mind.
Someone cursed, and something heavy hit the ground.
Amanda snapped her eyes open, and her image of Julius came to life. He stepped over her kidnapper’s body, grabbed the other man by the hand and twisted his wrist. The ruffian dropped to his knees with a shriek, grabbing for the hand contorted beyond any reasonable angle.
Julius turned ravaged eyes on Amanda. He was as pale as moonlight and looked as though he might cast up his accounts at any moment. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
She scrambled into a seated position. She tried to push to her feet, but her arms weren’t cooperating. “Julius! How did you—”
“Are you all right?” Julius kneed the man in the face and dropped him. He took two steps and lifted Amanda by her shoulders. “Did they hurt you?”
Amanda opened her mouth and caught a flash of silver flying at Julius. She threw herself to the side, pulling Julius with her, and the blade of her kidnapper’s knife scraped off the stone wall.
“Close your eyes.” Julius pushed her into the corner and faced the attacker.
The kidnapper slowly approached, swinging his arm back and forth, his blade in constant motion. The other man stumbled to his feet, cradling his arm.
“What?” Why would she close her eyes? Not with two men intent on doing them harm in the room.
“Please.” Julius’s voice was hoarse, desperate. He kicked the kidnapper in the stomach, and the man fell back a step. “I don’t want you to see me do this. I don’t want the image of the next few moments anywhere in your head.”
She wanted to argue. Tell him that nothing he did would ever frighten her. Or disgust her. But there was no time. So, she nodded and closed her eyes.
And wished she had blocked her ears, as well. The sounds were horrific. The cracks echoing off the stone, noises that could only be bones snapping. The howls of pain. And finally, the silence.
A thumb brushed her cheek, and she threw herself at Julius. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Keep your eyes closed,” he said and stroked her hair. “Will you keep them closed until I say?”
She nodded.
Julius lifted her into his arms and started walking. Amanda rested her head against his chest, felt the rapid pounding of his heart beneath her cheek. His arms trembled beneath her legs and back. She couldn’t imagine what this had cost him.
“You came down into a dungeon for me.” She burrowed deeper into his coat, inhaled his musk.
“I’d do anything for you.” Gently, Julius set her down on her feet. “You can open your eyes now.”
She blinked. They stood at the bottom of a stairwell. A row of skulls had been cemented into the walls around them, a macabre mosaic.
Julius tipped up her chin. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I love you.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I realized as I was searching for you that had Hanford’s letter to the paper about us not been published, I still would want to marry you. You are the only woman who will make me happy. I choose you.” His breath brushed her lips. “Please, choose me back.”
“But the disgrace …”
“Doesn’t matter to me in the least.” He ran his hands up her arms and down her back, as though checking that all her parts were still in the right place. “We will live quite happily at my country estate, away from the censure of society. Away from a bevy of interfering servants. Just the two of us, and whatever famil
y we create.”
It sounded wonderful. A peaceful life, loving the man of her dreams. Being loved by him in return.
Yet she hesitated. “A lord needs heirs. What if I can’t have children?”
“You know I don’t care about that.” He cupped her cheek. “Besides, every couple will face problems. It comes down to who you want to face those problems with. We’ll face them together.” A sly smile tugged at his lips. “Though we’ll have a devil of a good time trying for those heirs.”
She nodded, warmth radiating through her body.
“That’s a yes?” Julius asked.
She nodded again.
Julius whooped and planted a kiss on her lips. He broke away smiling. “First, let’s get the hell out of here.” With a hand at her elbow, he pulled her up the stairs. “Second, I’m going to see the archbishop for a special license as soon as I apprise Liverpool of what I’ve learned.”
Amanda flew up the stairs beside him, her feet barely touching the ground. “We don’t need a special license.”
“I don’t want to wait.” He pushed through a wood door and dragged her through a storage room. “I think three days should be enough time to get you an adequate dress.”
Amanda pulled to a stop in an empty kitchen. “I don’t care about a dress. But I do want my sister to be there.”
Julius frowned. “Damn Marcus and his continental tour.” He blew out a breath. “Fine. I will wait. And I’ll write to Marcus and tell him to get his arse home.” He took her hands, and his eyebrows drew together. Julius looked down. Cursing, he whipped his handkerchief out of his coat pocket. “Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”
Amanda examined her wrists. The right one was red and inflamed, a thin streak of dried blood stretched from the palm of her hand to her thumb. The wounds on her left wrist were worse. The bleeding had slowed, but dark red beads still oozed from the deep gashes left by the rope.
Julius folded the white linen into a long rectangle and wrapped it around her left wrist. He tied a neat knot with the two tails and clamped his hand around it, providing pressure. He glared back the way they’d come.
Amanda patted his chest with her right hand. “You can’t kill them twice.” Her hand paused. “They are dead, right?”
“They’re dead,” Julius said grimly.
“Then let’s get out of here.” Amanda led him to the staircase. “I want a hot—” She sucked in a breath. “Lady Mary! She’s with Hanford.”
“She’s fine. And Dunkeld is with Hanford.” Julius rubbed small circles on her lower back.
Amanda released her breath and nodded. They continued up the stairs and stepped into the hall. Fine paper covered the walls and an oriental rug ran the length. They were back in the club’s public space. A muted roar met their ears, followed by some boos.
“Bertie must have found someone to replace you and Hanford.” Julius peeked under the handkerchief, checking her wrist. He applied more pressure. “It sounds like the club’s members are getting their entertainment.”
Tiptoeing down the hall, Amanda peered through open doors into the empty rooms they passed. She stopped in front of a set of closed double doors, just as another chorus of boos erupted from behind it. “That’s the members being entertained?” She swallowed. “I’d hate to hear them when they don’t find something diverting.”
“It’s just how this lot are.” Peeling the door open an inch, Julius looked through. “At least this crowd won’t pelt you with rotten tomatoes if they don’t like what you have to say.” He waved at her to come close.
Amanda pressed her eye to the opening. And gasped. “It’s Mrs. Fry. They’ve let her speak.”
“Yes, but they wanted to hear from you. She’s a poor substitute.” Julius smiled down at her. “Then again, I am biased.”
Amanda looked from his dear face, to her bandaged wrist, to the crowd jeering behind the door. Mrs. Fry beamed at the club members, obviously unperturbed by her reception. She smiled, and argued, and stood her ground. And the men didn’t look so scary anymore.
Smoothing down her skirts, Amanda nodded. She could do this.
Julius’s brow knotted together. “What …?” His forehead cleared. “You don’t have to go up there. After what you’ve been through tonight, no one could expect it.”
“I want to.” Amanda pulled her sleeve over her bandage and scraped at the dried blood on her skin with her nail. Want might be a step too far. But it was something she felt she needed to do. For herself. For Mrs. Fry. And for the thousands of people out there who screamed and shouted over the injustice in the world but had nobody to hear them.
Julius tidied her hair, pinning loose strands back into her bun. He brushed dirt from her gown. “I’ll be in the front row. If you need anything, or just a friendly face to look at, I’ll be there.”
“I know.” Amanda squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. Pulling open the door, she stepped into the meeting room and headed for the stage. She could feel Julius behind her, and it was enough.
Mrs. Fry saw her coming and her eyes lit up. She waved for Amanda to climb the steps. “Gentlemen, I have a friend here who can tell you her own experiences with the English penal system. A first-hand account of how we, as a nation, allow the mistreatment of the young and innocent. Please welcome Miss Amanda Wilcox.”
A flood of cheers and boos crashed into Amanda. Heart in her throat, her gaze fled to Julius. The steady look in his eyes soothed her and her pulse rate evened out. She could do this.
With her head held high, Amanda climbed onto the stage and faced her fears.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Julius blotted her wet hair with a towel, squeezing out the drops of water from her bath. They sat on the thick carpet of Julius’s room, before the fireplace. Amanda had never felt so pampered and relaxed in her life.
And after the stresses of the evening, she felt like she deserved it. That was the second time in her life when she’d been minutes away from death. The knowledge caused her insides to clench and twist. But facing death had a way of wiping your mind of irrelevancies, leaving only what was truly important.
She leaned against Julius’s chest, his skin warm against her bare back. She sat in the vee of his legs and idly ran her fingers up and down his thigh.
Her speech hadn’t gone as she’d anticipated. Although still receiving her share of boos, the evening had turned more into a question and answer session with the club’s members, not the lecture she’d planned. The men had been curious about her experiences, and seemed genuinely shocked by the conditions she’d revealed. Mrs. Fry had an idea for a series of speaking engagements with the two of them, but Amanda hadn’t decided. Although she’d confronted her fear, she didn’t know if it was something she’d want to do on a weekly basis. Besides, she wanted her nights to belong to Julius.
He shook her hair out before the fire, combing his fingers through the locks. Reggie rolled over, bumping her foot, and fell back asleep. Amanda understood why the dog offered up his belly so quickly. It really was a lovely feeling to be petted so.
“I’m going to miss Reggie after we’re married.” She scratched his furry leg with her toe.
“Oh, he’s coming with us.” Julius brought the towel to her stomach and slowly dried it. “He’s more ours than Marcus’s and your sister’s now, anyway. I’ll dognap him if I have to.”
Amanda laughed. “He’ll be my perfect wedding gift.” She held up her hand. The sapphire in the ring Julius had given her looked as dark as the sky right after the sun set. She still couldn’t believe she was betrothed.
After the club, Julius had taken her and Lady Mary home and left immediately to talk with Liverpool. After his meeting, Julius had stopped at his own townhouse to retrieve his mother’s ring from his safe. He’d wasted no time sliding it on her finger when he’d returned.
Sleep tugged at her eyelids, but Amanda didn’t want the night to end. “What will happen with your investigation? With Hanford?”
“Han
ford will be joining Madame Sable in a safe house until the time Liverpool deems it acceptable to try them. He can’t let it be known they’re under arrest until we clean up the rest of the crime ring.” Julius swiped the soft terry cloth across one breast, then the other.
Amanda was quite dry, but she didn’t feel the need to point that out. She arched her back into the caress. “And will you find everyone involved.”
“Nearly.” Dropping a row of kisses down her neck, Julius squeezed her breast through the cloth. “It may take Liverpool and his men awhile to analyze all the information we found, to go through all the business filings, but he’ll find the center of the web eventually. Now”—he trailed the towel down her stomach and lower—“the time to talk business is over. I won’t be able to bind your hands until you heal, but I can do a lot with just your lower body.”
She believed him. Letting her knees drop open, she rocked into his hand. The terry cloth scraped and soothed. Made her wet and then dried her up. She clasped the back of his neck. “I understand now. Why I love being tied up by you.”
Julius tossed the towel to the side and slid his fingers between her lower lips. He dipped the tip of his index finger into her opening before drawing back and gliding it over her seam. “Why?”
She dug her nails into his skin and willed him to increase the pressure. The feather-light touches drove her mad and offered no relief. But she knew he had his reasons, and that she would benefit from his patience.
“By letting you bind me, I was giving you responsibility over my body. My welfare.” Turning her head, she nipped at his stubbled jaw. “I was so tired of looking after myself, after Liz, and I hadn’t done a very good job of taking care of us.”
Amanda felt the rumble in his chest and cut him off before he could argue. “That’s in the past.” She rubbed his hard thigh and blinked back the sudden rush of tears. It was true. She could box up that part of her life and put it away forever. “But I could only enjoy making myself helpless because it was you tying the knots. I trust you. And letting you bind my body connected me to you in a way I never thought possible.”
