An Imperfect Engagement
Page 26
“I have always wondered,” said Franklin, “when you were forced to lie with your husband, how many times you thought of me, of what I could do to you?” His hand cupped her chin, tilting it up.
“Every time,” replied Hattie, after a moment of contemplation. “Horace did not compare to your aptitude.”
“Indeed?” Franklin grinned widely. “I am extremely pleased with your answer.”
Glancing at the deceased man to her left, Hattie sucked on her lower lip hesitantly. She returned her attention to Franklin. Attempting a winning smile, Hattie indicated Horace with a flick of her bound wrists as if she was inquiring about the weather.
“How did he die?”
“An overdose of opium, concealed in his wine,” Franklin replied. “While Horace did nothing directly to deserve my discontentment, he also did nothing to protect my daughter from your jealously.”
“You are planning to kill me as well?” Hattie asked, her voice indicating her realization of the danger she faced.
“Yes.” replied Franklin, a sneer flashing across his cruel face. “As well as your illegitimate niece.”
“What has Charlotte done to you?”
“She interfered.” Franklin narrowed his eyes. “However, if you expect me to show you the same leniency I showed your husband, you will be severely disappointed.”
Hattie dropped to her knees, her brown eyes pleading with Franklin. She brought her lashed wrists to her chest as if praying before placing them gently on Franklin’s leg. Biting her lip, she managed to appear contrite.
“Franklin, please, spare me. I will do anything you ask, give you anything you want,” she begged, staring into his cold eyes
Franklin paused, considering her statement, his eyes dragging slowly over the woman crouched on the floor between his legs. “Anything?”
“Anything,” Hattie repeated seductively, sliding her hands up his thigh.
Franklin glanced down at his leg in disgust and shook it free from Hattie’s grasp. She stared in shock, her mouth popping open like a fish gasping for oxygen. Leaning forward, Franklin’s lips stopped millimeters from Hattie’s mouth.
“My dear,” his voice lovingly caressed, “there is only one thing I want from you. I want you dead.”
* * *
The End
Thank you
Thank you for reading An Imperfect Engagement. If you enjoyed the love story between Samantha and Benjamin, please consider leaving a review wherever you purchased the story, it really does make a difference. If you are interested in hearing about new releases, behind-the-scenes author secrets, sales, and giveaways, sign up for my newsletter. Now, I invite you to continue the adventure with a preview of A PERFECT DECEPTION.
* * *
♥ Alyssa
A Perfect Deception
Prologue
The morning’s eerie silence—a precursor of daybreak—was broken by the subtle clanking of iron chains as they dragged across a patch of frigid ground. They rattled musically, punctuated by the staccato whimpers of an unrecognizable lump of flesh.
A metal stake, shoved deeply into the unforgiving hard earth on the stable floor, refused to budge as the chain to which it was attached pulled desperately against the primary hoop. Clank… clank… clank. The repetitious sound reverberated forlornly, the melancholy melody of a funeral dirge.
The other end of the heavy chain was fastened to a horse’s bridle—lashed tightly to its victim’s head—which was decorated in beads of sweat and blood. A thick rope bound the hands of Mrs. Hattie Pierce, the wretched woman tethered to the stake. She rhythmically bucked her head in a fruitless attempt to free herself.
Matted hair—several chunks missing from her scalp—fell in disarray about her face, loose from the elaborate hairstyle coifed the previous evening. A bridle bit, callously inserted in Hattie’s mouth, held her tongue flat against her teeth. Unable to speak, she grunted cries for help, whining as the bit cut into her soft flesh. A thin line of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth where the metal mouthpiece ground mercilessly.
Her clothing, shredded and scattered about the barn, had been ripped from her body during the past six hours of torture. Hattie shivered in the early morning air, clothed only in her chemise and drawers. They hung despondently as if the clothes themselves already knew the expected fate of their owner. Bloody footprints trailed a tiny circle around the stake, roughly two meters in diameter, the result of Hattie’s raw, bare feet scraping across the stable floor.
Her last memory was of Franklin’s burning black eyes, boring into her as he flicked the knife blade chaotically across her upper arms, leaving them exposed and hemorrhaging after the first few swipes. He continued his sweeping motion and orbited a small circle around Hattie, sometimes slicing through cloth, sometimes through skin.
Hattie screamed against the bit as the metal blade slid across her shoulder. She blubbered quietly, unrecognizable words which tumbled around the metal binding her tongue. Franklin grinned, leaning closer until his warm breath caressed her skin.
“Hattie,” he whispered in her ear seductively, stroking a light hand down her cheek, “I had no idea you could bring me this much enjoyment. However, I cannot kill you just yet even as you beg me to end this pain. There is another party who wishes to express their displeasure with you. I cannot deny that joy.”
Tears leaked from Hattie’s eyes. She yanked her head away, yelping as the compassionless chain ripped her head backward. Franklin approached with a wide smile, his hands wrapping around Hattie’s thick neck. Her bound wrists flew up automatically, digging her fingers into his arm, a small gouge appearing under her grimy fingernails. Franklin’s eyes sparkled with delight. He squeezed harder.
When Hattie regained consciousness, she laid discarded on the floor in the exact position she fainted. Alone in the small barn, Hattie glanced around anxiously. The air permeated with Franklin’s malevolence.
Stumbling to her feet, she tested the rope binding her arms and pulled her head again—she remained tethered and bound. The sound of carriage wheels outside the shuttered barn caught her attention.
“Mmph!” yelled Hattie, swinging her arms so the chain banged against the metal post, the barn reverberating with the sound of metal hitting metal. She stilled, the din echoing in her ears and watched the stable door nervously, her breath caught between her teeth. The door creaked open a few centimeters, revealing Mrs. Clark’s grey head.
“Mrs. Pierce!”
Mrs. Clark gasped, dropping her sack, rushing to Hattie’s side. Pulling at the chain, Mrs. Clark was unable to release Hattie from her metal stake. Mrs. Clark’s head whipped around, perusing the semi-dark barn for any type of cutting device. Her eyes landed on a knife, upended in a hay bale.
Extracting the blood-stained knife, Mrs. Clark set herself to the thick rope binding Hattie’s wrists, moving the blade back and forth. One piece of the rope frayed and broke, encouraging Mrs. Clark’s efforts. She grimaced, grasped the knife handle tightly. Her arms moved rapidly, blurring as she sawed at the binding. Another piece of rope snapped.
The barn door creaked again. Mrs. Clark and Hattie whipped their heads up simultaneously. Waltzing into the stables, Franklin flashed an amused smirk at both ladies.
“Mr. Morris!” Mrs. Clark said, dropping the knife and rising. She slid away from Hattie, collecting the potatoes which rolled from her discarded sack. Her eyes remained on Franklin, watching him as he leaned against the frame, his arms folded over his stomach.
“Ah, Mrs. Clark.” Franklin greeted her in a friendly tone. “I was hoping your inquisitive nature would remain dormant during this entire episode. Unfortunately for you, it appears that is not the case.” He shook his head sadly from his shadowed position in the open barn doorway and clucked his tongue, a reluctant sound which echoed ominously in the stable.
“What depraved act have you committed on this poor woman?” Mrs. Clark asked, indicating Hattie with a tiny jerk of her hand.
“Wh
atever you can imagine, I have done worse.” Franklin shrugged, disappearing from the doorway and vanishing into the shadows. His voice surrounded them, bouncing off wooden beams which ran the length of the ceiling.
“W-W-Why?” asked Mrs. Clark. She froze in a circle of light, one of the few which dotted the hay-covered floor, her eyes frantically searching the barn. Trembling, Mrs. Clark’s tongue darted out, licking her dry lips anxiously. “Mr. Morris?” She called his name tentatively.
A whimper escaped Hattie. Franklin appeared behind her, yanking her head back cruelly. He sneered at Hattie, entwining her hair tightly around his fist, ripping his arm backward a second time. Hattie yelped around the bit, her teeth grinding against the metal.
Tears dribbled from Hattie’s red eyes, mixing with the blood which continued to drip from her mouth. The concoction dropped onto her white chemise, further staining the garment pink.
“Please stop, Mr. Morris,” Mrs. Clark begged. She twisted her hands anxiously in her apron and stepped toward Franklin, her pale face pinched in fear. Chest heaving, she took a second step, placing herself within Franklin’s reach.
Franklin relaxed his grip on Hattie’s hair and stepped around the bound woman to meet Mrs. Clark. “Her accuser asked me to exact punishment for her crimes... and they are many.”
“Who is her accuser?” asked Mrs. Clark, edging away from Franklin as he slid closer.
“Ah, ah, ah, Mrs. Clark.” Franklin wagged a playful finger in her direction. “First, we must test your loyalty.”
Mrs. Clark swallowed, licking her lips a second time. “H-h-how?” she asked, biting her lower lip to stop it from trembling.
“Come closer.” Franklin held out his hand.
“No,” replied Mrs. Clark, shaking her head reluctantly.
Grinning, Franklin glided over, grasping Mrs. Clark’s arm with icy fingers. He tugged gently, and Mrs. Clark dropped the sack of potatoes and followed his lead in a dreamlike trance, her lower lip glowing white from the pressure of her teeth. Retrieving the gleaming kitchen knife from the ground, Franklin passed it to Mrs. Clark with an encouraging smile.
“Punish her,” he said with a macabre gleam.
“What?” Mrs. Clark stared from the bloody knife to Hattie.
“Cut her,” Franklin hissed, tasting the words.
Mrs. Clark lifted the knife. Hattie flinched away, cowering on the floor. Mrs. Clark approached, her arm raised… and froze, her body trembling. “I cannot. This is wrong, Mr. Morris. No matter what crime she is accused of, it is not our right to exact retribution.”
“I understand, Mrs. Clark.” Sighing, Franklin extracted the blade from Mrs. Clark’s shaking hand and patted her lightly on the shoulder. “You are a good woman, a kind soul. I cannot ask this task of you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Morris,” Mrs. Clark replied with a relieved sigh. Her eyes darted to Hattie. “What about her?”
“Mrs. Pierce?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Clark nodded, lifting the bag of potatoes from the floor and hefting it over her shoulder. “You cannot keep her here.”
Franklin’s eyes glowed with malice. His fingers combed through Hattie’s tangled hair. “She won’t be our guest for very much longer, Mrs. Clark.”
Mrs. Clark stepped forward, readjusting the potato sack. “What if she reports you to the authorities?”
“That will not happen.” Franklin shook his head.
“Why?”
“It will be difficult for her to report her own murder.”
Gasping, Mrs. Clark stepped away from Franklin, moving outside the circle of light. “You cannot kill her.”
“You cannot kill her. I have no difficulties with the scheme.” Franklin tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. He moved to his left, blocking Mrs. Clark’s path to the door. A wry smile pulled at his mouth. “We cannot release her alive, Mrs. Clark. You will be arrested as well.”
“But I knew nothing of the crime,” she sputtered.
Arching an eyebrow, Franklin slid closer. “As the housekeeper, you had no knowledge a woman was bound and chained in the barn?”
“No.” Mrs. Clark nervously shifted the sack, her nervous gaze flicking toward Hattie.
“They will not believe you,” whispered Franklin, circling Mrs. Clark.
Her eyes followed him.
“Do you think Mrs. Pierce can be trusted?” Franklin’s soft voice wove around the barn. “Do you think she will say you had no involvement in her abduction?
Mrs. Clark’s gaze flicked toward Hattie, who nodded vehemently, the chain clanging against the metal stack. “I do.”
“Interesting. And if you do not report what you have seen today to the authorities, and Hattie stays in my care for several more days… or weeks, do you think she will still maintain your lack of involvement?”
Mrs. Clark was silent, her eyes locked on Franklin. She licked her lips. “No.”
“Then you have a choice to make, Mrs. Clark. Which side will you choose?” He folded his hands together, circling her once more. Mrs. Clark’s gaze jumped over to the barn door, then back to Franklin. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily as if releasing her soul.
Her whispered response barely crossed the barn floor. “I cannot allow you to do this.”
“That is a shame, I shall miss your chocolate cake.” Franklin lunged.
Screams filled the early morning air.
* * *
The End
* * *
A Perfect Deception – Click now to find the impostor!
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author Alyssa Drake has been creating stories since she could hold a crayon, preferring to construct her own bedtime tales instead of reading the titles in her bookshelves. A multi-genre author, Alyssa currently writes Historical romance, Paranormal romance, Contemporary romance and Cozy mystery. She thoroughly enjoys strong heroines and often laughs aloud when imagining conversations between her characters.
She believes everyone is motivated by love of someone or something. One of her favorite diversions is fabricating stories about strangers surrounding her on public transportation. Alyssa can often be found madly scribbling notes on a train or daydreaming out the window as the scenery whips past.
Read More from Alyssa Drake
Alyssa Drake Novels
A LADY’S BARGAIN
Published as part of Pirates: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology
AVALISSE ROSS MYSTERIES
* * *
VIRTUALLY YOURS (book 1)
* * *
ETERNALLY YOURS (book 2)
Published as part of Prophecy of Magic
DAMSELS DEFEATING DISTRESS
FORTRESS OF DESIRE
HARBOR OF SECRETS
SHELTER OF INNOCENCE
(August 2019)
PARANORMAL TALES FROM FIREFLY ISLAND
* * *
CONJURED
* * *
CURSED
* * *
DAMNED
Published as part of With Love from New Orleans
* * *
HEXED
* * *
POSSESSED
* * *
SUMMONED
Published as part of With Love from London
THE WILTSHIRE CHRONICLES
A PERFECT PLAN
Wiltshire Chronicles (Book One)
* * *
AN IMPERFECT ENGAGEMENT
Wiltshire Chronicles (Book Two)
* * *
A PERFECT DECEPTION
Wiltshire Chronicles (Book Three)
Don't miss out!
Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever Alyssa Drake publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.
https://books2read.com/r/B-A-OWLD-PXIY
Connecting independent readers to independent writers.
<
br />