Drawn to the Marquess

by Evans, Bronwen

  She didn’t understand where this anger was coming from. “Why on earth would I want to withdraw? You’re frightening me, Stephen. What is wrong?”

  “Well, you are safe now. The magistrates in London have declared Carmichael’s death an accident. The incident is closed and Rotham’s investigation has been shut down. You have no need to play me any further.”

  “Play you?” she asked in confusion. “I have never played you.”

  “I have spoken to Sarah.”

  Penelope’s heart rate increased and she scrambled to sit up in the tub. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Isn’t it?” He leaned down so his two hands were gripping the edge of the bath, his face merely inches from hers. She’d never seen him so angry, or so hurt. “You were up on the cliff with Carmichael that night.”

  She didn’t want to have this conversation here, like this, naked and vulnerable. “I don’t want to explain like this—”

  “I’m sure you don’t,” he said. “You need time to think up more lies. There is no need to explain. Here I thought I was seducing you when all along you were seducing me. Turning my head so I would not consider that you could be the guilty party.” His hands left the tub and he began pacing the room. “How stupid I am. I should have known that a woman as beautiful as you did not agree to marry a man going blind unless she had to. You deserve a medal for your performance. You had me believing you loved me when all along you were merely using me. I wonder how far you would’ve taken it. Would you have married me to ensure you are safe for the rest of your life?”

  Anger got the better of her. She stood up, not caring that she was naked. “Listen to me. I did not kill Carmichael. It was an accident, I swear.”

  His eyes raked her up and down in contempt. “Even now you try to tempt me by standing up in the tub. Don’t worry. I’m not about to announce how foolish I’ve been to the world. I will marry you. But for once I’m glad I might be going blind because then I might not be able to see your lying face. The sight of you makes me sick.”

  With that he turned and left the bathing chamber, leaving her happiness and wonderful future in tatters. How could he believe that of her? One, how could he believe she would kill anyone? And two, how could he believe that she did not love him? She loved him more than her next breath, which she was struggling to take through the sobs that were wracking her body. She loved him so much if she could she would give him her eyes and hope that in doing so he would see the truth.

  She had no idea what Sarah had told him, but the little girl had not seen everything. As she stood there shivering with water dripping off her body, she didn’t know for the life of her how she was going to get Stephen to ever believe the truth.

  * * *

  —

  Stephen left the bathing chamber, his body humming with anger. She hadn’t even denied the accusation. As he descended the stairs he had no idea where he was going. What the hell was he still doing here?

  He had an abuser of children to track down, which was the only reason he stayed. His mind might be saying that but his heart said something else. How did you stop loving someone in one blink of an eye?

  Besides, Alex was here. He didn’t want him to learn of his foolishness, nor did he want him to know what he had found out about Penelope. Both Jonathan and Alex had helped sway the magistrates in order to find Penelope guiltless of any involvement in her husband’s death. He would make a liar of his best friends.

  Busy with his heart-wrenching thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that he’d walked all the way to the rose garden. He wanted to find a quiet spot to lick his wounds and think. It wasn’t only his pride that was battered. For once in his life he had engaged his heart, stupidly believing a woman could love a man who could soon no longer see. Only her lies had cut his heart to shreds.

  He briefly closed his eyes against the pain. He wanted to roar at the world, roar at the injustice of the fact that his heart still craved her. If this was how his past lovers felt when he ended his affairs, he thought he probably deserved to be feeling this way. No wonder men guarded against love. It had the power to destroy. He knew he would never be the same man. For he had tasted love and he equally craved it and feared it.

  Oh, he knew that Carmichael deserved to be pushed off that cliff. If any man deserved to die it was a peddler in young children. But what he could not forgive was that right from the start, Penelope had selected him, played a game to seduce him, for her own ends. She did not care about him at all. If she did, she would’ve told him the truth at some point; the time would have been while he was recuperating at Alex’s estate.

  Why had she not told him? That thought pounded through his head. The only thing he could think was that she did not love him, she did not have any faith in him, and she obviously didn’t trust him. He wondered if she would’ve told him the truth now that she had her pardon. And would she have backed out of their engagement.

  “This is where you are hiding,” Alex called. “David Gregory has returned early from his fishing trip, saying that a French ship has arrived in Seaford. I think you and I should investigate. I know you’ve only just returned and you’re probably dying to spend the day with Penelope, but time is of the essence.”

  Alex must’ve seen his face. “I say, is everything all right? Is your shoulder causing you problems again?”

  “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a busy few weeks. Let’s go and find David and take a ride down to the shore.”

  Chapter 20

  Penelope stared forlornly down upon the rose garden from her bedchamber window. She watched with her heart breaking as Stephen paced around the beautiful flowers. She desperately wanted to go to him, but she didn’t know what to say. Other than pleading with him to believe her, she had no proof of what really happened that night on the cliff edge.

  She cursed at herself. She should have told him. Perhaps then he would’ve believed her, but now? Keeping it a secret had been a mistake. She couldn’t blame him for thinking she had ulterior motives about giving herself to him.

  She watched as Alex approached and the two men talked. They began walking off toward the stables, and she wondered what they were up to. David Gregory had called earlier.

  She almost decided to follow and try and talk to Stephen. To talk to all the men and explain what happened that night. She hoped that Jonathan would be here when she confessed all, as he could be the voice of reason and persuade Stephen that she was telling the truth. She made her way down the stairs and a small shiver of doubt flickered in her mind. Would anyone believe her now? Once again she felt alone. She had no one that she could turn to. Most of her life she’d felt alone. She hated how it made her feel weak.

  She thought with Carmichael gone that her new life would be different. But it seemed that Carmichael’s ghost was forever going to haunt her.

  Perhaps it would be better to leave telling her tale until tonight when Stephen might have calmed down.

  Still, the look of hurt and pain on his face drew her toward the rose garden. The men would be gone but the garden had always had the ability to soothe her. She walked up and down through the gravel paths, but this time her soul would not be soothed. At the far end of the garden her grandfather had built a small summerhouse surrounded by wildflowers. She used to hide there when she was first married. It was the one place that Carmichael had never set foot in. A sanctuary of sorts.

  As if of their own accord, her feet drew her to her secret safe place. She needed her sanctuary more than ever. A place where she could lick her wounds and pluck up the courage to confess all. It was not going to be a pleasant dinner tonight.

  She stepped inside and took off her bonnet, hanging it on the hat stand just inside the door. Needing something to take her mind off the fact that she might have ruined the best thing that ever happened to her, she spied the embroidery box. When she was hiding away in here from Carm
ichael, she had tried to decorate a few baby clothes. She used to purchase items during the first few years of marriage, always hopeful for the one thing that she wanted, the one thing she put up with Carmichael’s bedding in order to get, and one more thing that she failed at.

  She had wanted a child so badly. Would she ever have a child of her own?

  Not without Stephen, a voice screamed in her head. She could not imagine ever giving herself to anyone else. He owned her heart, body, and soul. The pain of loss almost brought her to her knees. What if he refused to listen? Why couldn’t she have trusted him enough?

  After Carmichael she trusted no one.

  She took a step toward the box containing her attempts at embroidery when out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. But she wasn’t fast enough to duck, and a fist slammed into the side of her face.

  * * *

  —

  Penelope awoke to the sound of water lapping against stone. The smell of the sea filled her nostrils as she realized she was lying on damp sand. Her head throbbed from where someone had hit her. It didn’t take her long to realize she was in a cave near the sea. She could hear the waves. Fear gripped her, making her almost unable to move. It was likely the smuggler had captured her.

  “I see our sleeping beauty is awake,” a voice uttered in a thick French accent.

  She struggled to sit up with her hands tied behind her back. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, but she finally made out the shape of a man sitting on a crate across the other side of the cave.

  “What do you want from me?” she bravely asked, even though she was shaking inside.

  “From you? Nothing. You are going to earn me the money you have cost me when you killed your husband.”

  “I did not kill my husband.”

  She couldn’t see him but his voice held an incredulous note. “I saw you through my spyglass. From my boat I saw you and Carmichael up on the cliff. How else could he have fallen? He tied his horse yards from the cliff edge. I realize he was a drunken buffoon but he had his uses.”

  “He did fall. He tripped and fell. Somersaulted right over the edge, to be exact, in his greed to try and catch the girl.”

  The man gave an evil laugh. “You stick to that story. That fancy lord, the one who thinks the sun shines from your arse, he may believe that. But Carmichael had the young girl with him. You knew what he was up to. You saw your opportunity to get rid of him and you took it. I admire you for it.” He finally stood and moved toward her. As he got closer she tried to move away but the cavern wall was at her back. “Killing him has caused me many problems. It’s completely ruined my distribution network. It may take many months, even years, to get it reestablished. One has to be very careful with my sort of cargo. I think I deserve to be compensated for my losses.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. “What are you going to do with me?”

  He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek and she cringed away. “I’ll say one thing. Carmichael had excellent taste in women even though he preferred them much younger. You must have been a real beauty when he married you.”

  She wanted to reach out and bite his finger off, but that would only result in another assault, and she needed to keep her wits about her.

  “So, my lovely. I’m going to use you to raise the money I need to see me through until my business starts up again.”

  “Business?” she spat at him. “You trade in flesh. Young girls that you sell, knowing they will be abused. I don’t know how you live with yourself.”

  He smiled and she saw tobacco-stained teeth. Everything about this man repulsed her. “Money is compensation enough. It makes living with myself very easy.”

  “I don’t see how kidnapping me is going to be financially viable.” She leaned forward slightly as she stared directly into his eyes. “What it will do is bring you immeasurable trouble. There are likely people out looking for me already.” What she didn’t tell him was that Jonathan and Stephen knew about these caves. They had followed Jamie Stewart here. It was likely one of the first places they would look.

  “I’m ready for trouble. I know these caves like the back of my hand. There are many exits for me to escape through. But we will not be here for long. I’m just waiting for the tide to turn, then you and I will be taking a boat journey.”

  Panic took an even tighter hold. If they sailed away from here, Stephen would never find her. He might hate her at this moment, but he would be coming for her.

  “No one is going to pay money for me if they have no proof I’m alive.”

  “Ransom? Now there’s an idea. I expect your brother, a duke, would pay handsomely to have you returned. And here I was thinking about just selling you to the highest bidder. There are many in the Arab and Ottoman empires who would pay a significant amount of money for a beautiful woman, a beautiful lady of breeding, and a beautiful woman with hair the color of dried wheat. Fair-haired women are almost priceless.”

  “You make my skin crawl.”

  He stood up and went back to the crate he was sitting upon. “Once you are sold you’ll really understand what making your skin crawl feels like. I’m nothing compared to the men that are likely to purchase you. Besides, you’re far too old for my tastes.” With that he picked up a satchel and left the cave, leaving her alone.

  She looked around in desperation, trying to see anything she could use to try and free herself. Both her feet and hands were bound. She leaned back against the cave wall and closed her eyes, hoping that Carmichael was burning in hell.

  Slowly her panicked heart rate began to slow and she could think more clearly. She felt something sticking out from the cave wall behind her. She twisted around and realized that it was a shell. An idea quickly formed. Could she cut the rope that bound her wrists? She quickly began rubbing the rope against the shell. She prayed that with each swipe the shell was sharp enough to help her.

  It seemed like hours but it could’ve been merely minutes when finally one of the ropes snapped. She managed to wiggle a hand free and soon both her hands were free of her bindings. She desperately tried to pull at the ropes binding her feet but they had been tied too tight. She looked around and she saw a larger shell so she crawled over to it. It had a really long sharp edge, and soon she’d freed her feet, as well. Elation made her a bit light-headed, so she stayed sitting and took a few deep breaths.

  That was when her predicament hit her. She was free but, looking around the caves, she had no idea which way to go. If she wandered, she might get lost in the caverns forever. It suddenly occurred to her that she should follow the sound of the sea.

  Fear making her cautious, she thought it rather sensible to go in the opposite direction than the Frenchman. Although she had grown accustomed to the dim light, she could not see very well. She suddenly had an understanding of what Stephen was facing.

  Feeling her way along the cavern wall she found an opening into an adjoining cave. The cave was even darker than the one she had just left. However, the sound of the sea was louder and when she looked around she saw over the far side a patch of light. Light was coming in through another opening. Her hopes rose and she stumbled and half crawled toward the light.

  Elation swept over her when she reached the other side. She peered through the gap and saw a wide cave opening to the sea. The tide was still low but it would mean she would have to swim. She’d swum in the sea along this coast for years. She’d swum almost every day for six years. She was a very strong swimmer and she could make it. All she had to do was fit through this opening. It was going to be tight but she could do it if she stripped off her gown. She had to strip it off anyway if she was going to swim.

  She removed her clothes as fast as she could, until she stood only in her shift and stockings. She would take her stockings off before she got in the water; that way they might protect her legs from cuts from
the cave wall while she inched her way through the gap.

  Breathing deep she sucked in her stomach and began to inch her way into the opening. On a sudden thought she reached down and grabbed her discarded clothes to pull them through the gap with her. She didn’t want to leave any clues as to how she had escaped.

  Penelope had to fight down panic only once. About halfway through she had to take another really deep breath and ignore the abrasions from the rock wall, in order to fit through, but she finally made it. She didn’t take too much time to celebrate, because she hadn’t escaped yet. However, it was highly unlikely that a man would be able to fit through the same opening.

  She discarded her clothes behind some rocks and began to wade into the water. She crouched low in the water and followed the line of rocks out into the sea. Lifting her head she peered to the left. She saw a couple of rowboats anchored. She moved across to the right and looked over the rocks on the other side. Nothing. No boats and she couldn’t see any fishermen.

  She would have to swim for about half a mile before she cleared the cliffs and reached a safe beach. She bit her lip. The Frenchman said that the tide was coming in. An incoming tide could make the undertow worse as more waves crashed onto the beach. It was going to be a tough and dangerous swim but she had swum in worse conditions than this before, and she knew how to work with the undertow. She could make it. She had to make it.

  Before she lost her courage, she dove under the next small wave and began to swim.

  * * *

  —

  The three men watched the rowboat with a single man in it head back toward the French schooner. They had been watching for almost two hours, and yet there had been very little activity.

  “That’s the second rowboat that has come out from the caves,” David said.

  “We have to get on that ship,” Stephen muttered to himself.