by Brianna York
“She can hear water. She is not sure where she was taken but she was put her in a wagon to get there. She cannot hear the fair anymore.”
Cecily’s mind raced. A wagon was still not as fast as a horse would have been. If Rosy had been taken somewhere in a wagon, she was likely not at all far away.
“I am sorry, Miss,” the old woman was saying. “That is all I see.” She let go of Cecily’s hand and bent carefully to retrieve her cane.
“Is there somewhere near here that would match the description that you just gave me?” Cecily demanded impatiently.
The old woman regarded her silently for a moment. Finally, she said, “If I tell you, you must promise me that you will leave off meddling in that girl’s life.”
Cecily felt her stomach clench. She suddenly felt very cold and very scared of the old woman. She regarded the wizened, intelligent face before her for a long moment, trying to gather herself. “Your sight is true, old woman.”
“Do you swear to me?” the old lady asked again.
“I do,” Cecily replied earnestly. She would promise anything if it meant she might leave this place.
“Very well,” the gypsy woman answered her. “There is an abandoned grist mill back down the road. It is much overgrown but there is a narrow track that should take you there on foot. Be careful that he is not there when you go looking.”
“He?” Cecily asked.
The old woman shrugged slightly. “I do not know who she is afraid of. I do not think she even knows. What she does know is that she was taken to this place by a man.”
“Very well,” Cecily replied. She made to go, then turned back. “What shall I pay you for my fortune?”
The old woman smiled and waved this away. “Some fortunes are not for sale. Off with you now.”
Cecily stared into the woman’s dark and knowing eyes for a moment longer and then loosed her horse into a canter. She hoped that the old woman’s vision had been right. She thought of the gypsy woman’s warning about a man who might be there when she arrived. She ruthlessly thrust aside her doubts and hurried the horse faster.
The old woman watched the beautiful young woman gallop away. She had not told the girl what else she had seen when she read her palm. It would not do to meddle with the future in such a fashion.
Chapter Thirty-One
Cecily slipped on a tree root and cursed softly under her breath. She pushed away clinging tendrils of vines that snaked over the narrow foot path and drew closer to the mill. The building was clearly very old. It sagged inward on itself and brooded over the narrow stream that merrily gurgled by.
Cecily rose to her full height and peered around the clearing. She did not see anyone around, nor did she see the wagon that the old woman had mentioned. She pondered briefly that the old lady had sent her on a fool’s errand but then swept aside her doubts. She would never have known this place was here without the gypsy’s advice. It would not hurt anything to look around. If Rosy was not here, the old lady had been wrong and Cecily could ride back to the others.
“Rosy?” Cecily called as she neared the building. “Rosy? Are you here?” She pressed open a rotting wooden door and stepped carefully into the semi-darkness of the building itself. Shivering, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Rosy!” she called again.
Rosy had heard the sound of someone approaching for some time. Her hearing had grown very sharp in the past hours to help make up for the fact that she could not see anything. She had been afraid that it was the man who had kidnapped her coming back, but once she heard the voice she knew that it was Cecily. She struggled into a sitting position and tried to call back.
“Cecily!” she tried to shout. Her voice came out as a thin croak that was muffled further by the bag over her head. She bit her tongue to try and get some moisture flowing to her mouth and drew in a few deep breaths. “Cecily!” she called again and felt a bit relieved when the sound carried some. She heard the progress of footsteps draw to a halt. “Cecily!”
“Rosy?” Cecily called back. “Is that you?”
“I’m down here!” Rosy called back. She coughed fitfully, her throat feeling near to tearing it was so dry.
Rosy heard Cecily’s feet travel across the room and then come back. “I don’t see a way down,” she called.
“Down by the water,” Rosy tried to shout back before giving in to another coughing fit.
“By the water?” Cecily called back. It was so dark inside the mill that she could barely see a few inches in front of her. She was not sure what Rosy meant as there was no access to the stream from inside this floor of the building.
“Go outside,” Rosy called back, feeling as though her voice would not tolerate much more shouting. “I think you can get in near the wheel.”
Cecily reluctantly moved back outside away from the faint sound of Rosy’s voice and clambered carefully down the slight slope toward the stream itself. She saw the wheel which was so splintered and rotten that it no longer turned under the force of the water pouring by. She crept along the edge of the river bank, trying to see any way to gain access to the floor below the one she had just been standing on. She was about to lose hope of finding anything when she spotted what might be another rotten wooden door just behind the far side of the wheel.
“Nothing for it,” she said as she eyed the rushing water beside her. She rucked her skirts up and eased carefully into the stream. The rocks on the bottom were slippery but the stream was not as deep as she had thought it would be. She clung with one hand to the splintery wood of the water wheel as she made her way carefully along the stream bed.
“Rosy!” she called as she climbed out of the chilly water. “I think you might be behind this door!” She thumped on the soggy wood with one hand.
“I hear you!” Rosy called back with relief.
Cecily tugged on the rusty handle of the door but it barely budged. Sighing with frustration, she rattled the handle and leaned against the door again as hard as she could. She felt the wooden surface move just slightly and redoubled her efforts. Her soggy skirts clung to her legs and she shivered in the shade cast by the huge wheel. She rested a moment, gathering her strength. She threw herself against the door a last time and felt a thrill of triumph when it finally opened.
“Cecily! I’m over here!” Rosy called out.
“It’s so dark,” Cecily answered her, stepping inside carefully, her hands outstretched.
“Follow my voice,” Rosy called back desperately, her discomfort forgotten for the moment.
“It is so cold in here,” Cecily said as she felt her way into the room. “How long have you been here?”
“I am not sure,” Rosy said honestly. “He put something over my head.”
“He?” Cecily asked, feeling as though she might be nearing the far corner of the room.
“I don’t know who it was,” Rosy said. “I have been trying to think of who might want to do this to me or to Rob but cannot think of anyone.”
“There will be time enough to sort all of that out later,” Cecily said reassuringly as she continued to grope slowly in the dark. “We need to get you out of here. Oh!” she tripped over something in the dark and bent down.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Rosy breathed when she felt Cecily’s hands on her arms. “Can you take this horrible thing off my head?”
Cecily slid her hands up Rosy’s arms and discovered that the sack over her head had been tied with a bit of rope. She made quick work of the rope and pulled the bag off Rosy’s head.
“Thank you,” Rosy breathed, drawing greedy gasps of fresh air. “I thought I was going to suffocate.”
“Has he tied your hands too?” Cecily asked.
“Yes, but not my feet. It might be easier to go outside before we untie my hands.” Rosy struggled a bit, feeling weak and light headed. “Can you help me get up?”
Cecily drew Rosy to her feet and they shuffled slowly toward the door. The afternoon light outside nearly blinded Rosy after her hours in the perfect dar
kness of the mill.
“Lean against the wall,” Cecily ordered her, pressing her backwards. “I will take care of these knots and then we can get out of here.”
Rosy blinked rapidly in the brightness of the outside world and tried to focus on Cecily’s face. “I admit that I did not expect you to come looking for me.”
“I suppose that it is not very ladylike to go haring off after a missing person, but I could not abide standing by while others did all the work,” Cecily replied as she worked loose the tight knots.
“That is not what I meant,” Rosy said softly.
“Ah,” Cecily said in reply, a note of chagrin in her voice. “I suppose that is fair. I have not been very honorable where the Earl was concerned. I was very jealous of you.”
Rosy’s eyes were recovering a bit and she watched Cecily’s blonde head bowed over her task. “I confess that I thought for a few moments that you might be behind this,” Rosy whispered.
Cecily shot her a glance, her blue eyes slightly wide. “You must think I am more clever and resourceful than I truly am,” she finally replied with a wry chuckle. “I clearly owe you more than just an apology after all of this is over.”
Rosy smiled wanly then sighed with relief when Cecily pried loose the last knot. “Thank you,” she breathed out, rubbing some feeling into her numb fingers.
“Come along,” Cecily beckoned as she began to scramble up the steep slope toward the front of the mill. “We should get out of here before the man who kidnaped you comes back.”
Rosy followed Cecily on wobbly legs and the two women gained the higher ground at the front of the mill without any mishap. Rosy tried to match Cecily’s careful steps through the brambles and shrubs along the little path that lead away from the mill but she was afraid that she was making a lot of unnecessary noise.
“Did you ride out here alone?” Rosy asked as she made her way beneath a low hanging branch that crossed the trail.
“Yes,” Cecily said. “I got separated from the others but they cannot be far from here.”
Rosy pondered whether she would have the strength to balance behind Cecily and decided that she could probably manage to ride tandem in her current state if they did not go faster than a walk. Her lack of appetite over the past few weeks of her pregnancy had made her weak. The thought of the baby bolstered her somewhat, and she decided that she would likely feel much better once she wasn’t forcing her way past overgrown bushes and clinging vines.
“Ah, here we are,” Cecily said with relief, stepping out into the lane. She patted the neck of her waiting horse fondly and began to untie it. “Do you think that you should get on first perhaps? I am not strong enough to help you once I am on the horse.”
“That is probably the best plan,” Rosy said. She put her foot in the stirrup and gathered herself to climb aboard the horse.
“Don’t move another muscle,” a male voice said.
Rosy looked over her shoulder and saw a young man with sandy hair and blue eyes standing in the lane. Her heart thudded in her chest when she saw the pistol that he had trained on them. Her scattered thoughts told her that the man reminded her of someone but she could not place who.
“Come now,” the man asserted when neither of them moved. “Do not make me have to shoot you. You are not worth anything to me dead.”
“Worth anything?” Cecily demanded. Rosy admired the calm in the other woman’s voice. “What do you mean?”
The man’s light eyes flicked in Cecily’s direction. “You are very clever to have found her,” he said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “Sadly, your cleverness will be your end. I have no use for another hostage.”
“Hostage?” Rosy asked, turning to face the man but retaining her grip on the reins of the horse that Cecily had ridden to find her.
The man’s lip curled in a sneer. “You don’t know who I am, so I can forgive you for your stupidity in this one regard at least.” He stepped closer and Rosy again was struck with the familiarity of his features.
Suddenly she realized who he reminded her of. “You’re Ms. Bruxton’s son!”
He quirked his upper lip into a semblance of a smile. “Excellent work, My Lady,” he said. “Do you now know why I might have felt the need to get the Earl’s attention?”
Rosy’s mind turned over this new development quickly as she tried to think of a plan of action. “Your mother was paying for your schooling with the rents from the estate’s tenants,” she said matter-of-factly.
Harold Bruxton nodded. “My mother is a very resourceful woman. I might be the bastard son of a rich lord who refused to acknowledge me, but my mother sorted out a way for me to attend university with the rank and importance I should have been granted from birth.”
Rosy felt a chill stealing over her. “Who was your father?” she asked, her eyes taking in Harold’s build, the line of his chin, the wave in his hair. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought which had just occurred to her.
Harold’s smile was feral, angry and cutting. “I see that you have already guessed by the look on your face.” He swept her a courtly bow, his eyes on her face and the gun trained steadily at her despite this little flourish. “It seems that I am Robert Kensington’s illegitimate half-brother.”
“He doesn’t know,” Rosy said quickly. She heard Cecily gasp but ignored the other woman for the moment. “If he had known, he would have paid for you to go to university. There was no need to steal from the property!”
Harold laughed loudly at this. “Who would have played the benefactor to my mother and I? You would have asked the Earl to acknowledge a half-brother he did not know existed? Do you believe that he would have felt the urge to assist a bastard to rise to a successful position in society?”
Rosy took a step forward. “Please give him a chance,” she pleaded. “Rob is a kind man. He would not wish you to suffer for your father’s cruelty toward you. You are the only family he has left. He would want to know you.”
Harold laughed again, the sound eerie and off kilter. “Forgive me if I do not believe you,” he snarled.
“Rosy,” Cecily whispered, catching a hold of her arm. “Don’t go any closer to him.”
Harold turned toward Cecily’s voice, his blue eyes very bright in his flushed face. “You should listen to her,” he said harshly. “She can see that I will not be moved by your promise of happy family life.”
Rosy glanced at Cecily. “Please let her go. You can bargain with my husband without her being a part of this.”
“You must think me a very great fool,” Harold replied. He shook his head. “Come along quietly and I will make this as pleasant as I can for you both.”
“What do you want?” Rosy asked plaintively, trying to buy some more time for them.
“I want money to buy my mother, my grandfather and myself passage to France. We can start a new life there with some family connections we have left there. My grandfather will never be able to find another job as a steward here in England without a reference, but we would be able to start a fresh life for ourselves abroad. I think that the Earl will be happy to grant me this small request in return for your life.”
“Harold,” Rosy began to say. She was cut off by a flurry of movement alongside her.
Cecily flung herself at Harold and grasped a hold of the pistol. Cursing, he made to fling her off but she clung desperately to his arm. “Run!” she screamed at Rosy as Harold grappled to gain control of the weapon.
Rosy sprinted down the lane, the sound of Cecily’s scream echoing in her ears. She heard a shrill cry and then the sound of feet thundering behind her. She gasped with fear as the pounding feet drew closer.
“Your friend is very spirited,” Harold ground out as he snatched a hold of Rosy and drew her back against him. She flailed and screamed until he clamped a hand over her mouth. “Stop screaming. No one will hear you,” he ordered her as he drug her toward the wagon. She sucked in a breath and bit Harold’s hand as hard as she could.
�
��Bloody Hell!” Harold shouted, releasing her mouth and shaking his hand. “You little bitch!”
Rosy leaned forward, trying to wrestle herself out of his arms. She kicked at his shins frantically but he didn’t react. “Please,” she panted. “Please just agree to meet with Rob. I will explain everything to him!”
“Do shut up,” Harold told her and cuffed her hard.
Rosy staggered and her vision grew dark for a moment. She felt Harold haul her back toward the mill but was too weak to resist him. As he dragged her back into the bushes she saw Cecily’s crumpled body in the lane. She felt tears stinging her eyes as she thought of what was going to happen to her, to the baby and to Cecily. She cursed herself for throwing the Bruxton family off the property. If only she had known that Harold was the former Earl’s son.
“I had planned to make myself known to the Earl in a more polite fashion, but you have forced me to escalate my plans,” he growled at her, frustration in his every movement. He hauled her unceremoniously through the brush, ignoring her protests when a sharp branch cut her cheek. “We shall simply have to go to see the Earl together as you have requested.”
“Let me go back for Cecily,” Rosy pleaded. “She is hurt.”
“I thought I told you to shut your mouth,” Harold snarled. He drug her through the stream, cursing at her when she slipped and fell down to her knees in the cold water. “Not much farther now. Hurry up.”
Rosy stumbled after him, trying to think clearly about what would be the best thing to do. She assumed that Rob would still be out looking for her. She glanced at the sky and saw that darkness was falling rapidly. She felt panic squeeze her heart when she thought of Cecily lying in the lane in the dark. What if someone ran her over with a carriage? What if wolves found her? She shivered in fear.
“Go on,” Harold shouted at her as they gained higher ground opposite the stream. “Get up on the wagon.”
Rosy tried to comply but her legs would not hold her. She slumped into a near faint, her mind crying for her to run but her body refusing to comply with her wishes.