He’d known that he would have to, had come here with that same intention. But, with Phillip not here, Heath felt odd. “Do you know if Phillip will be coming soon? I’d rather speak when he is here.”
“Phillip?” One of the men overhead him, his head perking up. He pulled away from the man he was roughhousing and turned to face Heath. “You didn’t see him?”
Heath frowned. “Why would I see him?”
“Because he said he would be heading over to you. I remember because he’d look very determined too, so I thought he had something he wanted to tell you. Or he wanted to do. I don’t actually know, really—” He broke off, getting distracted by one of the others who roped him back into their tousling.
Heath frowned. He had decided to see me? If that were the case, wouldn’t I have seen him on the way?
He opened his mouth to ask the man when exactly that was, but Victor spoke first. “If that’s the case,” he said. “Then you should say what you have to then run on home. There’s no need letting it drag on for longer than it needs to.”
He was right about that, but tucking the apprehension that rose in him aside was difficult. Heath nodded to convince himself, then turned to Victor. The wise-eyed man lifted his brow in question. “Thank you, Vic,” Heath said. “For all you’ve done for me. I don’t know if you know this, but you’ve always been like a father to me.”
“Don’t say that kind of nonsense to me or I’ll punch your teeth out,” Victor growled, raising his fist threateningly. “I’m not nearly old enough to be your father.”
Heath huffed a laugh. For a moment, his unease faded to the back of his mind. He turned to face all the others and clapped his hands twice, the sound echoing loudly throughout the dusty building.
“Listen up!” he barked, even though they were already settling and giving him their attention. “I have something I’d like to say. I will no longer be a part of this gang.”
Protests rose up instantly. A few outraged, many of them confused, and one of them even sounded concerned. It warmed Heath’s heart to see that they were all already opposed to seeing him leave.
“You don’t need to whine about it!” he shouted with a broad grin. “I am not dying. And it isn’t as if I plan to cut you all out of my life. But my time here had always been temporary, even though I’m just realizing that myself, and it’s time for me to go.”
Not all of them knew of his real identity as a Duke and, though Heath trusted them all, he didn’t think it necessary to mention it.
But, even as the thought crossed his mind, Matthew spoke up, “Where is this all coming from? I thought you wanted to be here for the rest of your life.”
“I thought I wanted that too. But, well, I suppose things change.”
“Oh, do they now?” came Victor’s voice from behind. He approached Heath, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you certain this is all just a sudden change of heart?”
Heath caught Victor’s knowing grin and surprise rushed through him. It was obvious he knew something. But how? Heath had made sure to keep it a secret, made sure not to let any of them know just how deeply he’d fallen for the lady he’d taken into his care.
But then, he must had forgotten who this was. Victor seemed to have the wisdom of a man who’d lived a dozen lives.
They were all looking at Heath with interest now, catching wind of Victor’s insinuation. Heath knew there was no backing out of it. So, he said, “I have fallen in love.”
The men before him all cheered. A few of them rushed up to him, clapping him happily on the shoulders while others stayed back and simply clapped.
“Relax, relax!” Heath bellowed, unable to hold back his grin. “It is nothing to be cheered over. But I would like to begin a family with this lady and that would be better suited when I am not tied to any danger. I hope you all can understand that.”
“We do!” Matthew shouted back and rest of them gave agreeing nods and murmurs.
“Now, it seems we’ve taken up too much of your time,” Victor said heartily. “I’m sure you are dying to return to your love, so let’s not keep you.”
Heath nodded. The unease was bearing down on him now, even though his farewell was going much better than he’d thought it would. “I wish you all a long and happy life.”
His heart lifted as he made his leave, knowing they were all watching him. He’d expected more resistance, more questions. But they had all been so supportive that, once Heath was out from under their eyes, he had to pause to take in a shaky breath.
It would be odd not seeing them, not leaving late at night and returning home quite early in the morning. Though he didn’t think he’d miss the thieveryvery, he would miss the comradery and all the good times he’d had with these men.
Once the emotional moment had passed, his trepidation returned remembering that Phillip was at his manor. For some reason, he didn’t like the thought of him being alone with Meredith. He’d shown his disapproval of her presence from the very start and Phillip didn’t think he was getting used to her. And Meredith…no matter how much she had grown over the past few weeks, there was no telling what Phillip’s appearance might do to her. Especially so late at night.
It was worry for Meredith that pushed him forward. As he boarded his carriage, he was thrumming with the anxiousness now, hoping that he was only being overbearing and unnecessarily worrisome. He would welcome it if it meant that this odd feeling he was getting was wrong.
But as he drew closer to the manor, Heath didn’t have much faith that it was.
Chapter 29
“Who’s there?”
Despite the fear coiling within her, and the desperate need to run trembling throughout her legs, Meredith’s voice was somehow strong. Strong enough, at least, to reach the man standing under the slip of shadow. She swallowed past her suddenly dry throat, putting her shaking hands behind her without taking her eyes off the tall figure for a second.
All she could tell was his gender. She didn’t know who it was, if he meant her harm, or if it was someone she would recognize. And he didn’t respond to her question, simply standing as still as a tree. She might have thought something was wrong with him had it not been for the slight move of his head.
“Who are you?” she asked loudly, but her voice cracked this time. Meredith knew it wasn’t wise to stand out here questioning this person. She knew she should run. But though she wanted to, she was deathly afraid of what might happen if she dared to turn her back to him.
Finally, the man moved. He flexed his hand and then took one step into the swath of moonlight before him. He moved slowly, as if he wanted to savor every bit of terror dripping from Meredith’s skin. Though she wanted to bolster her bravery, Meredith couldn’t stop herself from shaking like a leaf.
His boots were creased and muddied. His trousers were clearly dirty even under so little light but everything else about his attire painted him in the light of a decent man. He was clean shaven, exposing the devilish smirk he wore. And his eyes were filled with evil intent.
Shock rocked through her body to mingle with the fear and, in that moment, Meredith had no more hope of running. It was Mr. Phillip Gale, Heath’s friend.
“W-what are you doing here?” she squeaked. “Did you come here to see Heath? Because he’s already left the manor. He went to see you and the rest of your gang.”
Phillip shook his head, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His stance…it was casual but poised. At ease, but ready to move at any time. The perfect blend of the two only served to terrify Meredith even further.
“There isn’t any need to worry.” Phillip’s voice was low, tinged with something she couldn’t name. “I am here to see you. Again.”
“Why?”
“Do I need a reason to see the lady my dearest friend has fallen in love with?”
The way he said those words made her blood run cold. It shouldn’t have sounded so…intense. Meredith took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. There
were still a few feet between them. If she needed to run, she had enough space to do so—even though it wouldn’t be much of a head start.
“Did you not feel like coming to the front doors?” she asked him, her voice levelled enough to pass as casual.
Phillips brows shot to his hairline. He laughed in surprise. “What’s this? The timid little thing who could barely utter a single word has learned to speak, it seems.”
“That does not answer my question.”
He laughed again. Meredith didn’t like the sound of it at all. “You seem to know Heath well,” he said. “Have you two truly grown that close in so little time?”
“We were childhood friends,” she explained without thinking. She didn’t know why she told him that. Indulging him in any way would only make him linger for longer than he needed to.
“Well, that explains it!” he exclaimed, clapping so suddenly that Meredith jolted. She glanced behind her, hoping the sound might have alerted one of the servants but she was afraid they might have all retired to bed already. The servant’s quarters were quite a distance from where they stood. She was already losing hope.
Meredith crossed her arms, hoping it would help to mask the fact that she was trembling like a leaf. “That explains what exactly?” she asked, lifting her chin. It did little to boost her confidence.
Phillip took a step toward her. Then another. Then he began to pace idly back and forth, never taking his eyes off her for a single second. It was very unnerving. “Why Heath seemed to taken with you when we first found you hiding away like a little mouse. He had recognized you! And is that what you used to seduce him?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Or are you as hard of hearing as you are wily. I know your kind, Meredith.” He said her name like a curse, disdain dripping from his tone. “Pretty little ladies who need someone to rescue them. Weaklings who uses what’s between your legs to get what you want.”
“How dare you!” Meredith could do nothing but gape at him. Is this the sort of friends Heath had been keeping company with?
“Have you shared his bed already?” he asked without stopping. He wore a terrible grin, seeming pleased by the anger that was reddening her face. “Oh, you haven’t, have you? Or are you resisting so that you can get more out of him? A title, perhaps?”
“It is time for you to leave.” Though her feet felt as cold as ice, she managed to take a step back. Meredith desperately hoped that he hadn’t heard that crack in her voice. “I will not allow you to remain here and insult me so.”
“Is this your home? Are you the next Duchess of Castlemore.” He whistled, shaking his head. “You move quite fast for a lass who looks as if she cannot bear to mash ants.”
Too many things were sprouting in her at once. Anger. Fear. Confusion. And then more and more anger, clouding all the others. It brought heat to her cheeks, a round of heated words that a lady should never say came to her mind. Struggling to hold it at bay was fast becoming difficult.
“You do not know me,” she hissed. She didn’t know what part of her was speaking—the Meredith could hardly bear to look at such an intense man or the Meredith who had the strength to fight with Heath however many times were needed. “And since you do not know me, you do not have the right to stand there and say such things about me. Now, if you wish to put this all behind us, then I suggest that you leave here now and I will not tell Heath about your insolence tonight.”
“Haha!” Phillip barked. Meredith bit her lip so hard she was afraid she might draw blood. “There she is! Are you finally done with the façade? Oh, if only Heath could be here now to see how easily you managed to fool him.”
Phillip reached behind him. Meredith heart stopped dead in her chest when she saw him pull out a long silver dagger. The blade caught the glint of the moonlight, striking white-hot fear through her body.
“Well,” he said, looking lovingly at the dagger. He turned his eyes back to Meredith as an eerie smile stretched across his face. “He will learn soon enough.”
Meredith didn’t ask him what he meant by that. Not a single thought ran through her head, save for one word: run.
But her feet were leaden, her limbs stiff. Even as she screamed the word over and over again, she could only manage to stagger backwards as she stared in horror at the dagger he wielded. The dagger that he clearly planned to use on her.
Phillip took another step towards her. Meredith swiveled on her heel and took off.
She grabbed ahold of her skirts as she raced away, her heart pounding madly in her chest. Behind her, Phillip cursed and then she heard his footsteps following after her. She didn’t dare to look around, didn’t dare to take her eyes off the moonlit path that would lead her into the manor. As fear slipped and slid throughout her body, Meredith kept her eyes on the door that led back into the manor
“Get back here!”
Phillip’s shout was loud, hopefully loud enough to wake the servants. Meredith sent up desperate prayers, her tears flying away from her eyes into her hair. She reached madly for the doorknob and flung it open, throwing herself into the darkness of the manor and praying he wouldn’t come after her. As foolish as it was, she hoped the threshold would stop him.
It only seemed to increase his anger. Meredith kept a vice-like grip on her dress as she pounded up the back staircase, hoping to lose him in the long hallways. Surely, he’d never been to the second floor. Surely, she would have the upper hand because she knew her surroundings better than he did and would be able to hide until Heath returned.
That assuredness dissipated when a cold, rough hand clamped onto her arm and spun her around.
Meredith shrieked, throwing her hands out. The heel of her left hand caught him squarely in his nose, snapping his head back. Phillip let out a heated curse as he grabbed his injury and she used that as her chance to get away.
Heath, please! Please save me!
The words echoed through her head alongside her prayer, filling her with painful desperation.
“The more you run,” Phillip growled from behind her. “The more painful I’ll make this for you.”
She didn’t look back to see if how much distance he’d closed. She kept her eyes on the corner, knowing that there were a few doors tucked away at the end of the incoming hallway. If she could make it there, she could buy herself some time by hiding in one of them. Perhaps then she’d be able to get away from him while he was busy looking for her.
But he was close. She could feel him. The animosity felt like a dark wave looming over her shoulder. Meredith dared to look behind her and, as if by terrible fate, Phillip caught her by the hair and pulled her roughly to the ground. She screamed.
Pain sliced through her scalp. Phillip kept a good hold on it, dragging her back to her feet before throwing her roughly against the wall. The force of her collision shook a nearby painting from the wall. Meredith hardly had the time to recover when his large hand clamped around her neck, holding her there.
“You whore!” he hissed, spittle flying onto her cheek. “You really like to make things difficult, don’t you? You couldn’t have at least made your death easy for me.”
Hearing him speak of killing her had her legs going weak. She grabbed his hand with both of hers, trying to pry it off her throat. She couldn’t breathe, dark spots already appearing before her eyes. “Y-you…”
“Save your last words,” Phillip growled. “I don’t care to hear it. Now, die!”
He tightened his hold. Meredith gasped, her hand flying back against the wall as her body jerked in shock. Now, darkness was closing in on her vision. She could only see his terrible face, those hate-filled eyes…
Those familiar hate-filled eyes…
The memories came rushing back without warning. She could see her mother again, dying, her killer standing over her body. She couldn’t remember anything but those eyes.
“It’s you!” she rasped. She couldn’t struggle any longer. All her strength was gone. “You…you were the one
who killed my mother.”
That terrible smile appeared again. “Ah, you finally found me out, have you? You’re just a little too late, woman. You won’t be able to hear me tell you how much joy killing your whore of a mother gave me. It felt like I was killing my own dear mother all over again.”
Tears ran down her face. “How…how could you…”
He squeezed harder and Meredith was forced to close her eyes. It was a simple reprieve from his horrible eyes. “Lady Pebblebrook, wasn’t she? Nothing more than a wench in my eyes. Like my dear, dear sister who thought getting all my parents’ attention would get her whatever she wanted. But you know what?” He leaned close to her ear, his breath hot. “My mother, my sister, your mother…they all got what they deserved. That is what they get for daring to ignore me.”
Captive to the Kiss of a Wicked Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 24
