“Proceed,” he told Judge Cartwright. “I am most eager to claim my bride.”
“Yes indeed, my Lord.” The judge nodded his bewigged head gravely.
“Now listen to me,” the other mother hissed in her ear as she took up her position beside Caroline. “The only words I want to hear coming out of your mouth are ‘I do’. Do you understand?”
Caroline glared at her. Her tongue might be frozen again but at least she was able to make her face obey her.
“And wipe that nasty look off your face and smile,” the other mother instructed. “This is the happiest day of your life—act like it.”
At once, Caroline felt the corners of her mouth bend up into an approximation of a happy smile. Damn it, was she really going to have to beam at the hateful Lord Harkens throughout this sham of a ceremony as though he was the man of her dreams?
Unfortunately it seemed so. While the real man of her dreams—the one she’d been Dream Sharing with for years—was stuck in her own world, probably wondering what the hell had happened to him.
Richard, she thought desperately. If only you were here now! What am I going to do?
It was a question without an answer. She stood at the altar, facing the pudgy Viscount and knew that her life was about to change forever—for the worse—and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Sylvan, it’s been hours since the window first went down. Will it be up soon? Poor Caroline must be married by now and who knows what that horrible Lord Harkens is doing to her?” Sophie said.
“Well, he poisoned his first wife to death slowly so I doubt he’s going to change his MO and do something more violent,” Kat pointed out.
“Still,” Liv objected. “What if he wants to, you know—”
“It just came back up,” Sylvan announced, sounding relieved. “I wasn’t sure it would take the line of code I inserted to allow non-living objects to be transported along with living people. But it seems to be working well. Hopefully Dr. Lambert is still all right.”
Richard felt a surge of concern when he thought of Caroline in the clutches of that blackguard, Harkens. Then he reminded himself that she was not his Caroline. His Caroline was lying cold and dead in the morgue here aboard the Mother Ship. The woman he was going to rescue was a trickster—an imposter. A woman who had played with his heart for her own amusement.
I’ll rescue her and see that she gets back to her own world, he told himself grimly. But that will be the end of my association with her.
Of course, Sophia had attempted to soften his outlook on Dr. Lambert while she gave him tea, but Richard remained unmoved. Whatever she and her friends had learned by watching Caroline during her time in his world, they could not know her heart and so their claims that she loved him moved him not at all.
He had no idea why Dr. Lambert had chosen to act as she had—to give him false hope and feed his desperate desire for the love of his wife—but he was not prepared to forgive her for it or assume it came from some pure motive he was not privy to.
“Have you got everything you need?” Olivia asked him anxiously. “You understand how to use the blaster and the disk?”
Richard nodded shortly. Not only had he been supplied with new clothes and shoes, he had also been given some Kindred weapons and taught how to use them. Given that fact, he was as ready as he would ever be to rescue Dr. Lambert and return her to her own world.
“Remember, you have to bring her back to the park,” Sylvan instructed him. “Though we can watch you on the PORTAL, the window is only effective for transportation where it was first created.”
“I will go to Thrashings Hall, procure the good doctor, and return her to your world as soon as possible,” Richard said blandly. “Thereafter you may do with her as you please, only pray, do not trouble me again as I will be endeavoring to get on with my life in my own world.”
“That’s it?” Kat stared at him, as though shocked. “You’re just going to go get her, bring her back to the park, shove her through the window, and never see her again?”
Richard raised an eyebrow at her.
“What else would you have me do? She is not my wife—she is nothing to me.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Sophia asked quietly. “You told Caroline you loved her not twenty-four hours ago. Can you really turn off your emotions so easily?”
Richard felt a deep, uneasy stirring inside himself at her words but he hardened himself against it.
“The woman I was speaking to was my wife—or so I thought. I have no love for a stranger I have only known for three days.”
“But—” Olivia began but Richard held up a hand to stop her, despite the rudeness of a gentleman interrupting a lady.
“Please—no more entreaties. I am only retrieving Dr. Lambert because I am the only one able to go through the window and bring her back. If it were not for my Kindred honor, I would even not do that much, after the way she has tricked me and played upon my heart.”
“Leave him alone.” Sylvan spoke with quiet authority. “The way he feels about Caroline is between Richard and the Goddess. It is no one else’s business.”
“Thank you.” Richard nodded, approving of this descendant of his. At least Sylvan knew when to leave a male alone.
At that moment, the large brass frame which comprised the window of the PORTAL machine flickered to life. It showed mostly darkness but Richard could hear the rustling of leaves and knew it was open to the park at night.
“All ready to go?” Sylvan asked, looking at Richard.
He nodded back, silently confirming that he was ready.
“Good—then stand in front of the PORTAL’s frame.”
“I will. And…thank you,” Richard said. He nodded his head to include them all in his gratitude. “If it were not for the four of you, I would still be under a grave misapprehension about my wife. Though it pains me to know the truth, it is better than living a lie.”
Then he turned and took a step towards the rectangular brass frame. At once he felt a sucking sensation, as though some mighty otherworldly wind was tugging at his entire being. With a low gasp he felt himself lifted and then he was once again flying between universes, back to his own world.
* * * * *
Sylvan, Sophie, Kat and Liv watched anxiously as Richard was restored to his own world.
“It’s so dark over there!” Liv said tensely. “I can’t tell—was he able to keep the clothes and weapons we gave him or not?”
“Let me see…” Sylvan frowned. As a Kindred, he had much better night vision than any of the girls. “It appears that the suit Kat made him remains intact…except for the neck piece.”
“Oh—I saw that!” Sophia exclaimed. “When he touched it, it just crumbled away!”
“The rest of his suit seems all right, though,” Liv remarked as they watched Richard pat his chest as though to reassure himself that only his cravat had disappeared. “Let’s hope the weapons I gave him are intact. Otherwise he might have a hard time rescuing Caroline.”
“Oh dear—I wish I’d never told him she wasn’t his Caroline!” Kat exclaimed. “Now he hates her and it’s all my fault!”
“Truly, it wasn’t our secret to tell,” Sylvan acknowledged. “But there is no helping some things. Don’t worry, Kat—the Goddess will work everything out according to her will.”
“I’m sure she will,” Kat said but there was no disguising the anxiety in her voice as the four of them watched the window, where Richard was leaving the park and hailing a nearby wind-up cab.
Everything was up to him now—there was nothing they could do but watch and pray.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Here we are, my dear—your new home. I’m sure Thrashings is glad to have a mistress again.” Lord Harkens sounded quite jovial as he helped the unresisting Caroline down from his carriage and led her to the front door, where the creepy Tick-Tock butler was already in attendance
.
“Welcome home, my Lord.” The butler’s tinny voice came from its chest plate as before. “Will you be requiring anything for your comfort tonight?”
“Not at the moment, Jock,” the Viscount said. “Tell me, is my mother about?”
“No, my Lord—Lady Harkens retired to her rooms an hour ago. Do you wish me to rouse her?”
“No, no.” Harkens shook his head, a crafty look on his face. “No, it’s much better she should sleep. I’ll have breakfast with her in the morning…if I am not too tired from my nighttime labors.” He gave Caroline a lecherous look that made her skin crawl.
She wanted to hang back, to rip her hand from his and run as far and as fast as she could from this huge, sinister estate. But though she hoped the medicine Dr. Lovings had given her would soon wear off, it was still in control of her enough to force her to move forward docilely at her new husband’s command.
“Very well, good night, my Lord,” the Tick-Tock butler said.
Harkens didn’t even bother to acknowledge it this time—all his attention was fixed on Caroline.
“Come, my dear—our bridal chamber awaits,” he told her. There was a gleam in his piggy little eyes that Caroline didn’t like one bit. He looked like a greedy child who had just gotten a new toy he intended to play with very roughly—and perhaps break.
And I’m the toy, she thought dismally. Oh please—I don’t want to be here! I don’t want anything to do with him! Please, if this horrible medicine would just wear off so I could make a break for it and try to get out of here…
But she could do nothing but follow as Harkens led her up the stairs and down a hallway that seemed familiar, though she had only been in Thrashings once before. At last the Viscount came to a stop before a door. He turned the knob and threw it open with a flourish.
“And here we are—the bridal bower,” he exclaimed. “Come in my dear.”
Caroline followed him docilely inside and found that—to her horror—she recognized this room. The blue-satin upholstered furniture, the elegant beaded floor lamps, the hand-painted pastoral scenes of a happy blonde shepherdess leading a flock of fluffy white sheep over a green field… Oh yes, she knew exactly where she was. And suddenly she found her tongue was free to speak.
“Why here?” she gasped, turning to Harkens. “This is where your wife died! Why would you bring me here?”
“Why, these are the traditional apartments of the Viscountess here at Thrashings,” Harkens said, frowning. “I thought you knew that and came to see your future quarters the last time I found you here.”
“I told you—I was looking for a necessary room,” Caroline protested. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter—I don’t want to be here.”
“Here, in these rooms?” Harkens enquired.
“No—here at Thrashings—here with you,” Caroline clarified. If she’d thought for a moment, she might have realized it wasn’t smart to blurt out everything she was thinking. But it was such a relief to be able to speak her mind again that every thought and emotion which had been bottled up inside her for the past six hours simply started flowing out.
“I beg your pardon?” Harkens said, his face darkening. “What are you saying, Caroline?”
“I’m saying that I don’t want to be married to you,” she said.
He glowered at her. “It’s a bit late to come to that realization, now that we are legally married, my dear.”
“But we’re not!” Caroline felt a rush of relief. “It’s not legal at all,” she said. “The other mother—I mean, my mother—actually forged Richard’s signature on the papers of annulment. So our marriage isn’t legally binding and you have to let me go.”
If she had expected Lord Harkens to agree at once that she would be released from his house, she was sorely mistaken. Instead of anger or cold civility, a slow grin spread over his florid face.
“Is that right? You’re saying that you are, in actuality, still married to that blasted Kindred and the wedding we just went through was nothing but a sham?”
“Well…yes.” Caroline didn’t like that grin on his face at all. She took a step backward, away from him, which unfortunately was a step deeper into the lovely blue sitting room.
“Well then, my dear—we must be certain that the wedding night itself is real,” he remarked and the lecherous look was back in his eyes.
He took another step forward and Caroline took another step back. Slowly, he was backing her further and further into the room, heading towards the bedchamber. She wanted desperately to run but she didn’t trust her body to be able to get around him. Though her mouth was free, her limbs still felt sluggish and weak.
“Stop!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want anything to do with you! I’m still legally married to Richard. You can’t touch another man’s wife!”
“Oh, can’t I?” Grinning, Harkens lunged forward. With a startled scream, Caroline stumbled backward. Something hard and wooden hit her back with a hollow thud and she realized he had backed her up against the bedroom door.
“Now, then.” Harkens reached for Caroline but instead of grabbing her, he gripped the knob of the door and twisted, spilling her into the grand rose and gold bedchamber.
The place where his wife died! Caroline thought, feeling sick. She knew if she turned around, she would see those awful portraits on the far wall—the picture of the laughing, happy girl who looked so much like Caroline she could be her sister and the dead and wasted crone she had become.
“Leave me alone—I don’t love you!” she gasped at Harkens.
“I couldn’t care less if you love me, my dear,” he said, giving her that hungry smile again. “The only thing that matters is that you are mine now—mine to do with as I will. And I intend to take out every bit of trouble your Kindred husband inflicted on me on your own pretty hide.”
“But you can’t do that—it’s not my fault!” Caroline protested.
“I…don’t…care.” The Viscount grinned at her fiercely, which made him look totally crazy, Caroline decided with a shiver. And she was trapped in a bedroom alone with him! Could things get any worse?
Apparently they could.
“Stop your sniveling,” Harkens ordered, losing his grin and glaring at her instead. “Put on the garment laid out for you on the bed and be ready to receive me in ten minutes time.”
He gestured at the grand canopy bed with its rose silk comforter and Caroline saw that a green lace gown had been laid out on it. The garment itself was lovely but there were some strange brownish stains on it, as though someone had spilled coffee or dark red wine on it. It looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t say where she had seen it before.
“What’s that?” she asked, trying to buy herself some time.
“That, my dear, is the wedding night garment.” Harkens spoke the words with relish, as though he was greatly enjoying himself and intended to carry the pleasure even further. “Put it on or know my wrath.”
“I—” Caroline started to protest.
“NOW!” he shouted so loudly that Caroline jumped and started removing the green organdy dress she was wearing almost by instinct.
Harkens stood and watched her sharply, eyeing her while she awkwardly tugged the dress over her head and then fumbled with the ties holding the hoop skirt cage in place. Caroline let it fall to her feet along with the crinoline and then she was down to her corset and pantalets and chemise.
Even though she was still almost completely covered, she shivered with embarrassment and fear as Harkens watched her tug at the hooks and eyes on the front of her corset, attempting to get it unfastened.
At last it came off and Caroline allowed it to slip to the floor as well. She didn’t want to go on—not with him looking. So she was vastly relieved when he nodded, as though somehow satisfied.
“A bridegroom must not see his bride until she is properly arrayed,” he said, sounding as though he was speaking to himself, though he was looking at Caroline—her body, at least. “I will leave
now,” he told her, his eyes focusing on her face at last. “But only for a moment. Be certain you strip off the rest of your garments and put on the green gown. I want you ready for me when I return. Am I understood?”
“Y-yes,” Caroline whispered.
“You will wear the gown as they all did,” he continued, staring at her intensely. “You will wear it for me, for a bride must be properly arrayed for her husband on their wedding night. On this night of all nights, when she must make the ultimate sacrifice for his pleasure.”
“Um…okay.” Caroline nodded jerkily. She had her arms wrapped around herself protectively and she was staring at him with wide eyes. What was wrong with him? The look on his face was almost manic—it was as though his well-bred veneer of civility was chipping away before her eyes. As though the mask of sanity he’d always worn around her was slipping and she was finally seeing the real Harkens beneath.
And what she saw, was enough to frighten her to death.
He’s unbalanced, she thought. Maybe insane. Oh, this is so, so much worse than I thought!
“Hurry,” he told her, frowning. “I must go to make my own preparations but I will return in short order and you must be ready for me.”
Caroline nodded again, not trusting herself to speak. Harkens left, shutting the door behind her with a finality that made her heart drop to her toes. Now what was she going to do?
Hesitantly, she went to the bed and looked at the green lace gown. It was a peignoir much like the one she’d been put into when she first arrived at the other Caroline’s house. It would have been lovely, if not for the brown stains in its emerald fabric, right around the neck line. What were those, anyway? Couldn’t the housemaid have gotten them out when she washed the gown? And why were they there anyway—wasn’t Harkens rich enough to give her a brand-new gown instead of an old, stained one on their wedding night?
Reaching down, Caroline felt the fabric of the gown and found that the stains were stiff. Why, the gown hadn’t been washed at all! No effort had been made to get the brownish marks off. Harkens wanted her to wear a dirty gown!
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