by Shales, Mia
“Matthew went to London to testify at Lindsay’s trial?”
“Of course. At the time his lordship filed a complaint with the police for breaking and entering, assault and attempted murder, but as I said, it was only a few weeks ago that the authorities managed to get on to Lindsay’s tracks.”
Kate was in shock.
“It's hard to believe, Mademoiselle, that such depraved people exist but even more difficult to accept the fact that such a poisonous, foul viper grew up in this very house. His poor father is turning over in his grave at the terrible deeds of his offspring.”
“Poor Rebecca. What a nightmare. I feel so sorry for her.”
Roget nodded. “We all felt sorry and suffered along with her. Rebecca is very much loved. She showed only kindness and generosity in her relations with the employees.”
Roget suggested Kate take her coffee in the drawing room. A few minutes later she was seated in the southern drawing room. The illumination was subdued and the antique rose colors of the room glowed in the soft light. She took a sip of coffee.
What had happened to Rebecca that night? What had Lindsay done to her? Kate recalled Matthew’s words in the garden: He viciously took what was most precious to me and for that I'll never forgive him.
Did he rape her? Beat her? Probably. She stared into the inky night that rolled in behind the large windows. He simply does not treat me as one of the family, she thought, a dull pain choking her. He clearly regarded her as a stranger. He saw her not as his future wife, but as a passing episode. Unwilling to open himself up to her, he refused to speak of his past, to plan their joint future. Only the present existed. Kate closed her eyes. She could have helped Rebecca as a sister and friend, comforted her. Matthew had allowed her a glimpse into his world and now shut the door with a bang.
At ten that night he called. He sounded tired, his voice listless as though he were fulfilling his duty and nothing more.
“How are you?” Kate inquired, feeling the stiffness in her voice. She so wanted to hear about his day, how he felt, how he faced the exposure of his past at the trial, but of course she couldn’t. She had to keep up the pretense of knowing nothing. She knew Matthew would be angry if he found out Roget had revealed confidences, especially as he had steadfastly refused to let her be privy to any Camedon family secrets.
“I’m fine.” His voice remained cool. “And you?”
Kate hesitated before summoning the courage to say, “I miss you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Warmth animated his voice and Kate’s heart skipped a beat, excitement flooding her.
“When are you coming home?”
“I’m not sure. I may have to stay here till the end of the week.”
Her heart felt pinched. What was he hiding? Why couldn’t he tell her so trivial a fact that he was in London to testify at the trial? Were there other things he hadn’t told her? Perhaps there was another woman he was meeting in London?
“Are you feeling lonely at Bellewoodplain?” he asked.
“Yes, no, that is, I’m lonesome for you. That’s all.” She spoke rapidly as though ashamed of the words tumbling out of her mouth.
“I miss you too, Kate. I think about you at night.”
Kate stopped listening to him. He didn’t miss her. He missed her body. Matthew measured everything in terms of physical attraction. The day the attraction lessened he would leave her and continue on his merry way. She swallowed, ignoring with great effort the portent of his words, and changed the subject. “Your grandmother left Bellewoodplain.”
“I know.”
Kate wondered exactly how the dowager had described their morning conversation to her grandson.
“I’m afraid I might have annoyed her,” she began.
“Let’s not discuss my grandmother," Matthew interrupted impatiently.
Kate, despite her ambivalence, felt relieved. Since she couldn’t reveal the contents of the conversation with the dowager; far better not to dwell on the subject. As Matthew said nothing she searched for something appropriate to say. “I hope you’re not working too hard.”
“I’m glad to hear you care about me.”
“Not really.” Kate almost bit her tongue. She sounded testy. “I’m sure you’re very capable of taking care of yourself.”
“Far more attractive is the idea that I take care of you.” He sounded faintly amused.
Kate felt chilled. His words aroused unpleasant associations. A kept woman. That was what she had become. She lived in his house, ate his food and lived only for his love. She was there to appease his passion and his manhood.
“There is no need for that,” she said, “I manage fine on my own.”
“You sound as though I attacked you. I thought we were friends.”
Friends! The tears spilled over. Now she was his friend. A friend! What was to come next? That it was all over?! He would tell her it was far better they be simply friends. She had enough friends. If he couldn’t offer his love she was not interested in friendship as a substitute.
“I’m very tired, Matthew. We can continue this conversation tomorrow.”
“As you wish.”
Kate felt terrible. He sounded completely indifferent. He didn’t even try to argue with her. This was the end, she thought, the end of a glorious dream.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Katie. Sweet dreams.”
It was all over. Tomorrow she would pack her things and leave Bellewoodplain. She wouldn’t wait until he asked her to leave. There was a limit to the pain she could bear. She dragged herself up the stairs, feeling like an old, old woman.
Chapter Fourteen
Kate put on her nightgown and climbed into bed. She lit the bed-lamp and took the aged Jane Austen manuscript out of the box lying on the night table, wondering what to do with it. Should she take it with her when she left Bellewoodplain tomorrow or leave it here? If she packed it carefully there was a good chance she could transfer it unharmed to Mr. Mallory’s laboratory in Oxford. But there was always the danger, slight though it might be, that the journey and the strong light would cause irreversible damage to the old ink and delicate pages. She finally decided to leave the original behind. Mr. Mallory would have to come to Bellewoodplain and decide for himself how to deal with the rare treasure. She lay the manuscript down and closed the light. Tomorrow she would return to Oxford and carry on with her life at the point she had been when Matthew came into it. She would will herself to forget him. She had been mad to think she could become an important part of the life of the Marquis. She knew that she would pay dearly for her pride.
Kate tossed and turned, restless in her sleep. She stood on barren ground in a wild and strange place by a gray, overhanging cliff, enveloped by a cold fear. She was lost. For hours she tried to find the right path and return home. The sun began its descent and dispirited clouds drifted in the sky. A piercing sound made her shiver. A shrieking, starved, monstrous hyena was baring bloody teeth. The ugly animal stood on an outcrop of stone looking at her hungrily, ferociously. She stepped back, mesmerized by the carrion eater in front of her. The hyena took a step in her direction. He jerked up his neck and a harrowing laugh came out of his mouth. Kate lifted a hand to protect her face as he tensed for the spring. She tried to scream. His fur brushed her as she fell to the ground. She could not yell. She was suffocating, choking. She tried to sit up in bed, but the hyena pushed her back, biting her face, trying to gash her neck. She fought.
“Shut up, bitch. I’ll kill you if you don’t shut your bloody mouth.”
Kate opened her eyes wide. This was no dream. Someone was gagging her mouth, holding her in a painful grip, preventing her from moving. The dawn’s first light penetrated the windows and the silence indicated the household was still asleep.
“Mmmm...” she tried to speak but the hand over her mouth prevented speech. The man pushed her forward and sat on the bed behind her, pressing his chest to her back.
“Don’t move. If you don�
��t do exactly as I say the Marquis will find nothing but a corpse when he returns. Do you understand what I’m saying?” His mouth was at her ear and he spat out the words with such venom that Kate, paralyzed with fright, could only nod. There was something familiar about the low, terrifying voice. Despite the nightmarish situation layers of sleep peeled away from Kate and she started to think clearly. Only someone well acquainted with Bellewoodplain could know where her room was. On the grounds, and in the house, there were always some guards present as well as a security system. Whoever was twisting her arm, almost breaking it, must have known the security measures and how to sneak into the house. She couldn’t think of a single employee who would so brazenly challenge Matthew.
“Mmmm...” she writhed, frustrated by her inability to speak.
Hard metal touched her neck. “I’m going to take my hand off your mouth but if you scream I’ll put a bullet through your pretty neck. Is that clear?” The hand left her mouth. She fell backwards as the man stood up and faced her, the black gun in his hand aimed at her face.
“You!” she cried, unable to stifle a cry.
“In person, dear Kate,” he bowed grotesquely, “or perhaps I should say the Honorable Whore of the Marquis’?” Richard Lindsay bared his teeth in an obscene smile that reflected a sickening mix of madness and cunning. “Yes, I think the title suits you. But we’ll discuss that later. We’ll have time enough to find out if you’re really that good. You’ll have all the time in the world to show me what Camedon found in you and what extraordinary talents so charmed him.”
“You’re out of your mind. Matthew will kill you.”
“Matthew won’t kill me because if he does, you die too.” His face hardened. Two purple spots suffused his cheeks. His eyes glittered and white foam flecked his lips. His thin fair hair stuck to his damp forehead and his clothes were filthy.
“Matthew will pay for what he did to me. He’ll pay for every word he said in the witness chair yesterday, for betraying me and giving me up to the police. And you'll pay as well. You’ll pay because I want to punish Camedon where it will hurt most.”
He raised the gun and drew it up to her chest. The tip ruffled the edges of her nightgown, sinking between her breasts as the filmy material fluttered. Kate stiffened. Another hand came under her chin and forced her head from side to side.
“Not bad. I’ll enjoy hurting Camedon. He’s obviously tired of glamorous women if he decided to spice his sex life with you. You must be aware you’re not his usual type.” He laughed wickedly. “Yes, my little professor, we’ll have to find out just how precious you are to him. I hope you gave him enough satisfaction so he’ll accede to my demands. If not,” he pretended to ponder before his eyes lit up, an evil spark igniting them, “if not, you’ll have to give up this life for one that is far more peaceful.”
“Take your dirty hands off me, you worm.” Kate spat the words, forgetting for a moment the danger and the gun aimed at her heart.
Lindsay’s grip on her chin tightened. He crushed her cheek painfully, his fingers like a steel vise on her face. “Shut up. Just shut your mouth. I swear if you don’t, I’ll blow you up. Don’t test me. I’ve already killed the policemen who tried to stop me and I won’t hesitate to kill you if you interfere with my plans.”
Kate could only stare wide-eyed. He was a murderer. He freed her face from his cruel grasp but did not release her. She was unable to control her shivers and saw the mad satisfaction in his eyes when he noticed her fear. His soft sweaty fingers brushed her mouth and cheeks. She saw drops of sweat on his upper lip. He drew his face closer to hers. She felt nauseous. His lips touched hers, biting, cruel and painful. Kate clenched her fists. She must disassociate her mind from her body. She must stay calm. This was not the time to let disgust and terror overwhelm her. She was in a dangerous position and had to figure out the best way to escape. Kate felt the pressure of his moist lips. Beads of sweat dropped unceasingly from his forehead to her cheeks. She swallowed hard, tensing for what was to follow. His lips bit into hers and it took all her willpower not to scream. She raised one hand to stroke his neck and the second slipped to his waist, encircling the lower part of his back. Her lips returned his kiss. His body was slight and flaccid and she felt the tire of flab about his waist. The soft indentation of his belly was pressed to her body. Lifting his head, surprised but pleased, he smiled complacently, his nostrils widening. The self-image of men like Lindsay, Kate thought, was so low that even in a situation as extreme as this one her response did not arouse his suspicion but merely supported his low self-esteem.
If you act naturally and don’t panic you’ll find a way to escape, she told herself. The miserable fool! But at this moment the miserable fool was extremely dangerous. A desperate man, one who had nothing to lose. She must be wary. If she submitted too easily he would suspect her. She would spread her net step by step, very slowly, without haste. Lindsay relaxed his hold.
“What game are you playing, bitch?”
“I’m not playing games, Richard,” she answered with the utmost seriousness, “it may sound weird but I’m not at all afraid of you. On the contrary. I feel,” she made a quick mental survey of all the romantic novels she had read and all the love scenes she had watched for the appropriate sentence, “I feel so safe with you.” Good Lord, how ridiculous could she get?!
He stared at her suspiciously and her heart missed a beat. She smiled coyly. The triumphant gleam in his eyes made her press her advantage.
“Matthew asked me to leave Bellewoodplain. Here, see for yourself. I’ve already packed most of my clothes.” She gestured toward the valise she had begun to pack. His glance strayed to the suitcase. When he looked back at her his pupils were clouded. She immediately caught the drift of his thoughts. Damn it, she had made a mistake. He must not think Matthew was through with her. He must believe the Marquis was in love with her. In his twisted mind the more Camedon desired her, the greater his victory, and the more readily he would fall into her trap.
“Matthew asked me to leave because I refused his proposal. He loves me but I don’t feel anything for him. Honestly. He’ll do anything you ask. I’m sure of that. But you must take me with you! You must!” She clung to him. Her hands grasped his filthy shirt.
His smile was twisted. “So you turned him down. That’s interesting.” His laugh was disquieting, loud, hysterical and utterly mad. “Marvelous. I couldn’t ask for anything better than that.” He was completely caught up in dreams of vengeance. “Excellent! Camedon will not only supply me with money and an escape route but he‘ll be utterly humiliated. This is even better than I planned. The high point of my life will be when I see his face when the plane takes off and he’ll know that you came with me of your own free will. Excellent!”
“Yes, Richard, yes,” Kate fueled his ecstasy. “You simply must take me with you.”
“My shameless little hussy,” he looked at her through slitted eyes and his tongue, like a wet sponge, licked his lips in disgusting insinuation.
“Richard,” she said adoringly, breathing heavily and pursing her lips without loosening her hold, “I never thought you’d prove to be so daring and tough. Matthew looks like a soft jellyfish compared to you. You are just too masculine and wonderful.” She could feel him relaxing. The hand holding the gun dropped to his side. He sat on the bed, not taking his eyes off her for a moment. His left hand patted the empty space by his side, inviting her to sit by him. She obediently sat down. He turned to her, looking into her face, but she did not miss the movement as his hand placed the gun on the wooden box containing the manuscript. Without further ado his hands closed in on her breasts. Kate bit her lips to keep from crying out in pain. Luckily Lindsay interpreted the gesture as a sign of passion and grunted with pleasure. And then came the moment Kate was waiting for. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the pleasure of her touch. She drew closer, one hand sliding up his legs and he grunted again, “take him, he’s yours.” His hand released her breast. He took her
hand roughly and placed it on the outline of the upright member visible under his pants. Kate felt that at any moment she was liable to throw up but her mind continued to function, suppressing the suffocating feelings of disgust. She rubbed her body against his and then she stretched out, pressing her hips down strongly on his thighs. If he opened his eyes now, everything was lost. Her left hand stretched out and her fingers traced the outline of the night table. The moment seemed like an eternity. When her hand found the gun she did not waste any time and got up quickly, evading the arms attempting to catch her. Kate lifted the gun, overcoming with difficulty the trembling of her fingers and aimed the barrel at Lindsay who lay stunned on the bed, trying to free himself from the passion that had clouded his senses just a few seconds earlier. He raised his head half lifting himself until he leaned on his elbow.
“You fucking slut.”
“Don’t move.” Kate hurriedly grabbed the box on the night table, clutching it to her chest, and backed out, intending to reach the door and lock Lindsay inside. She would summon the staff and call the police. But first she had to reach the door. Every minute Lindsay could make a leap for her and Kate wasn’t sure she had the guts to pull the trigger. Step by step she retreated, the gun aimed at the man stretched out on the bed. Her heart beat furiously. Lindsay looked enraged. But he still hadn’t moved. She knew she reached the door when she felt the pressure of the rounded door-knob at her back. She placed the box on a chair, still facing Lindsay, the gun aimed at his heart. Her hand snaked back to turn the knob. Her blood froze. The door was locked and her groping hand found no key. Her hysteria mounted as she tried again and again to open the door.