by Adele Clee
Once outside, Elliot grabbed his arm. “You’ll not be able to follow on horseback. It’s too far, the risk too great. My carriage is equipped for such eventualities. We won’t need to stop come dawn.”
It was as though giant hands were squeezing all of the air out of his lungs. An image of a golden-haired woman with devil hands flooded his mind. “You … you want me to ride in your carriage?”
“There’s no other way.”
Chapter 22
The familiar sight of Mytton Grange brought memories of Alexander flooding back. That night, when he’d stumbled upon her swimming in the river, when the touch of his hand had sent a rush of longing through her body, that night she’d felt a soul-deep connection that went beyond anything she had ever felt before.
Evelyn knew he could hear her thoughts. Perhaps it was a form of intuition. Perhaps their joining had strengthened the connection, which was why she’d spent the whole journey calling out to him. He would hear her silent plea; she was convinced of it, and so she closed her eyes and conjured a vivid image of her surroundings, infused it with love and passion.
“I never thought we’d get here,” Mr. Sutherby said disturbing her vision. “This windy weather is playing havoc with the roads. It has been the same for more than a week.”
He spoke in his usual affable manner, as though they were a married couple returning home after a long and arduous journey. The illusion was instantly shattered when she glanced down to see his hand still gripping the handle of a hunting knife as it lay in his lap.
He moved his hand to pick up the length of rope at his side, twisting and wrapping it around into a loop before reaching across the carriage to grab her wrist. Evelyn fought him, kicked and struggled. The act was a way of showing her defiance even though she knew her efforts were in vain. She darted for the door, but the cold metal at her throat forced her back into her seat.
“Don’t be like that,” he said, his eyes all soft and angelic as he lowered the blade. “I want you to be happy. I want to see the smile that always warms my heart, the kindness that made me love you.”
He dared to speak of love. After all he’d put her through, the man was quite clearly deranged.
“Then let me go. Let me ride back to London, and we need never mention it again.” Her words carried an element of urgency, rang of desperateness.
Sutherby gave a pitying smile, the sort given to sick children and injured animals. “You know I cannot do that. But when we are married—”
“While there’s still breath in my body, that’s never going to happen.”
“You will change your mind when you see what I have planned for the evening.”
The evening?
Evelyn glanced out of the carriage window, at the sun making its morning ascent. She had a whole day to find a way to escape from this lunatic. Stony Cross was but a few miles away. She would find her way there and wait for Alexander to come to her.
With the knife in his hand, he threw the rope into her lap. “Thread you hand through the loop.”
Evelyn shook her head. “Why?”
“I thought we could go for a stroll around the grounds. Talk of our plans. But it would only spoil the moment if you were to run away.”
“Do you think this is any way to treat the woman you wish to marry?”
Sutherby snorted. “I have done everything you’ve ever asked of me … been polite, cordial. I have looked upon you like a delicate flower … rare and precious. Yet you snub me in preference for your rude and arrogant friend, the Earl of Hale.”
At the mere mention of his name her heart blossomed. “That is love, sir. It cannot be manipulated. It is not blind to one’s faults. Love sees the truth in everything and accepts it for what it is.” She took a deep breath and found the courage to continue. “Your protestations are feigned. Your charity is born of selfishness and as such you do not have the capability to love.”
Unperturbed by her words, he said. “But you will teach me. You will show me what I need to do to be a good husband. I am tired of wandering this world aimlessly. I need to settle with someone kind and good-natured.”
“But I will never love you.”
Sutherby shrugged. “What is love but folly?” He grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand through the loop, pulling it hard until the braided strands dug into her skin. “Come, there is nothing finer than a morning stroll to enliven the spirit.”
They strolled around the garden, him pulling on the rope as though she was a disobedient dog that refused to keep up. He’d have to release her at some point, and she would bide her time until presented with an opportunity to escape.
“This would make a marvellous place to raise a family,” Sutherby said looking out across the vast expanse of patchwork fields.
Evelyn preferred the view to the south, the thick blanket of trees, so dark and welcoming. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, imagining the scent of damp earth and pine, the sort of smell that cleanses the soul. She recalled the night she trailed through the forest after Alexander, his lantern lighting the way. He’d been cold and distant, nothing like the man she’d given herself to under the cherry tree.
Mr. Sutherby tugged the rope forcing her to open her eyes and follow. “I believe children should be raised in the countryside, not amongst the filth and grime of the city,” he said leading her back towards the house.
“I don’t want children.” Her words were blunt to drive home the point that she was not a willing partner in this ridiculous charade.
“You will change your mind.”
The coachman was engaged in tending to the horses. Luckily, there was hay in the stables, and he’d managed to pump clean water. Making their way in through the kitchen, Sutherby rooted around in cupboards and baskets but found nothing.
“That blasted housekeeper has cleaned the place out. There’s not even a jar of preserves. I bet her family’s supping like lords.”
On the journey, the coachman had procured a meat pie and ale, but that had been hours ago. Her stomach rumbled at the prospect of a whole day and night without food.
“I’ll send the coachman out,” he continued, “the man will surely be able to find us something to eat.” He sighed and pushed his hand through the mop of golden hair. “Come, there are things I must attend to, letters to write, plans for our departure.”
“Departure? But I thought we were staying here.”
Sutherby jerked his head back. “Only for this evening. If Hale comes looking for you, he’ll follow the road north. We’ll wait until tomorrow before setting out for Scotland.”
Evelyn gulped. The man truly was insane.
He lifted his bare hand to stroke her cheek, and she turned her head in disgust.
“I’ve decided this will be our family home,” he said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “We will consummate our alliance here this evening. You will have no option but to marry me then.” He lowered his hand and placed his palm over her stomach. “Surely you would not wish our child to be born out of wedlock?”
“Our child! Have you gone completely mad?”
Catching him off guard, Evelyn tugged at the slackened rope in his hand and made a dart for the door. Before she could catch her breath, Sutherby was behind her, and he swung her around, pulled her to his chest and kissed her roughly on the mouth.
“Do not mistake my kind overtures,” he said breaking contact. “I shall spill my seed inside you before the night is out. Whether you wish it so or not.”
Without giving so much as a frown, he pulled her up the stairs and into the master chamber. Looping the rope around the bedpost, he secured it tightly, giving her no option but to sit on the bed. Taking another piece of rope, he grabbed her wrist and tied her other hand to the opposite post.
“I’ll be back soon, my love,” he said, offering a friendly smile full of warmth and kindness. “And then I shall make you mine.”
“I’m telling you we’ve come too far. We’re heading in the wrong d
irection.” Alexander folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the carriage door. The feel of the cool night breeze upon his face brought a welcome relief from its oppressive confines.
“It won’t hurt to check,” Elliot said, banging on the door of the coaching inn.
“We need to turn around.”
They’d only come as far as Barnet. With every stage of the twelve-mile journey, he’d felt his connection to Evelyn weaken. Now, the invisible threads were strained to the point he feared they might snap.
Alexander had not set foot inside a carriage for two years, let alone take a long journey in one. During the first few miles, he had struggled to breathe. The lack of air to his lungs made it too difficult to think. When the faint images of Stony Cross first penetrated his addled mind, interspersed with pictures of a brooding castle and the Devil’s disciple, he dismissed them. But the forest in Bavaria was soon overshadowed by the forest in Hampshire, the mouth of Satan soon replaced by the soft, sweet lips of an angel.
“No one fitting their description has passed through,” Elliot said, coming to stand before him. “I’d have known if he was lying.”
Alexander straightened. “We need to go to Hampshire.”
Elliot glanced up at the night sky. “But it’s a twelve-hour journey, not including the two hours we’ve wasted travelling here or time to rest the horses.”
“She’s in Hampshire. I sense it.”
“If we turn back, and they’re on their way to Scotland, you’ll never catch up with them.”
“I know. But something feels wrong. I need to go back.”
“You’re certain this is the course you wish to take?”
Alexander fell silent, mindful of the strange sensation in his chest whenever he thought of Evelyn. Somehow, their souls were connected. He had to trust in the power of whatever wonderful spell fate had woven. He had to trust his instincts.
“She’s in Hampshire. I know it.”
Elliot sighed. “Very well. Hampshire it is.” His expression darkened. “We’ll not get there until dusk. Sutherby’s been alone with her for —”
“You do not need to remind me,” he said through gritted teeth.
Elliot held his hands up. “I just think you need to be prepared. There’s no telling what situation we may find.”
Alexander stepped forward, his gaze hard and unforgiving. “If he’s harmed her in any way, I’m going to kill him. I’m going to drain every drop of blood from his pathetic little body until there’s nothing left but a limp, withered shell.”
“I understand your need for vengeance, my friend. But I won’t let you. I won’t let you become the monster you’ve spent so long trying to avoid. Why do you think I went back for provisions?”
“Perhaps it’s time I stopped hiding. Perhaps it’s time I accepted who I really am.”
“And what will you tell Miss Bromwell?”
“The truth.”
She deserved nothing less. He should never have left it so long.
Elliot gripped his shoulder. “Whatever has happened in the past, you’re a good man, Alexander. Always remember that.”
The apprehension in Elliot’s tone caused doubt to flare, but he brushed it aside. Elliot issued instructions to his coachman, and as they settled into their seats, he pulled the stopper from the bottle of blood and swigged the contents.
“What does it feel like?” Elliot said, his gaze curious as he lounged back against the plush squab. “What does it feel like to love another with all your heart?”
How could one define something so perfect, something so profound?
Alexander smiled. “It feels like heaven.”
Chapter 23
Evelyn was lying on the bed, her hands still tied to the posts, when Mr. Sutherby entered. She shot up and scrambled back, her feet slipping against the coverlet in her haste to reach the headboard.
“Here we are,” he said putting the tray down onto the end of the bed. “Thankfully, Briggs managed to find a few provisions down in the village, enough to tide us over until tomorrow. I’ll just nip and get the wine.”
She stared at the silver tray. The decorative plates contained a varied assortment: slices of salt beef, cheese, scotch eggs, and pickles. The cutlery was tarnished, and there were a few wilting tulips presented in a crystal bud vase.
Mr. Sutherby returned, minus his coat, with a pitcher of wine and two glasses and he placed them on the dressing table. It was only when he raised his hand to pour that she noticed the hunting knife, sheathed and tucked into the band of his breeches.
“What time is it?” she asked, glancing at the window. The sky’s orange-brown glow heralded the onset of dusk. Had Alexander heard her plea? As the daylight faded, so did all hope.
“It’s almost eight.” Mr. Sutherby walked over to the bed and untied one hand, rubbing the grazed skin at her wrist before bringing her a glass of wine, to which she turned up her nose. “Drink it. It will make the evening much more pleasant, make you feel more congenial.”
Congenial to what? She’d need a hundred barrels to ease her anxiety. Perhaps if she showed willing, he might untie the other rope, and so she took the wine whilst offering a feigned smile.
Mr. Sutherby proceeded to light a few candles before drawing the drapes. “Forgive me,” he said coming to join her on the bed, and her racing heart settled when he began distributing the food between two plates. “I’ve left you alone for far too long, but I wanted to give you time to rest. I wanted to give you time to become accustomed to the idea of a lifelong partnership.”
“A gentleman would have been more attentive,” she said, trying to keep her tone even when all she wanted to do was rant and curse. “A gentleman would not hurt a lady in such a vile and despicable manner.”
He glanced at the rope and looked genuinely sorry. “When we are wed, I shall make amends. When you’re mine, I shall devote my life to your happiness. And you will soon see this as a necessary step to secure our future.”
She took the plate he offered with an eager hand, her grumbling stomach feeling no prejudice. Having spent the whole day alone in the room, she’d been so ravenous she’d have eaten the bed sheets. And so she grabbed a piece of beef and tore at it like a fox would a rabbit.
Mr. Sutherby stared at her, and she froze mid-mouthful.
“You see,” he said offering a smile. “You feel more comfortable with me already. You’ll be pleased to hear that I have had a rather productive day. I have written to your aunt—”
“My aunt?” Poor Aunt Bea would be worried beyond measure. “What have you said to her?”
“I’ve explained our need to elope and ask she wait for our return before announcing the wonderful news.”
What in blazes was wrong with him? Either he was too simple to appreciate the gravity of his actions or was too cunning to care.
“And what need forces us to take such drastic action?” she said, her anger rising to the surface.
“As your aunt heartily approves of our match, there is only one reason why a couple would elope.” Mr. Sutherby placed his plate back on the tray. “Don’t get upset. I’ll be as gentle as I can. When you’re used to it, it can be a very pleasurable experience.” His beady gaze drifted up the length of her leg and he moistened his lips. “Perhaps we should dispense with all of this and just get on with—”
“You’ll leave me the hell alone.”
“I had hoped the meal and conversation would settle your nerves, but I can sense your apprehension and fear.” He stood and moved the tray to the floor. “It is to be expected. The process will be easier if you relax a little.”
Relax! Evelyn felt nauseous at the thought of him touching her. She’d fight him until her last breath, which proved to be futile. Picking up the piece of rope still attached to the post, he grabbed her wrist, holding it between both hands before securing it tightly.
“Leave me the hell alone,” she cried, the tugging action only causing the rope to burn into the raw skin.
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Mr. Sutherby stood back with his hands on his hips as he surveyed her clothing. “It would be easier if you were undressed as I detest the fumbling about. But I’ve waited long enough. Besides, it will appease your need for modesty and I shall just have to use my imagination.”
Evelyn watched him place the knife on the dressing table. She kicked him as he crawled up onto the bed and he grabbed her ankles and sat on them while he unbuttoned the fall of his breeches.
“It will be over quite quickly, I fear.”
“Get off me! I’ll never marry you.” She writhed back and forth but felt his cold hands slide up her thighs, the icy chill freezing her blood. “Get your damn hands off me.”
“Once I breach your maidenhead,” he panted, pressing down on top of her until she could hardly breathe, “we will be eternally joined.”
“You’re too late,” she cried, the words accompanied by a sinister chuckle. “I have already given myself to another.”
Mr. Sutherby froze but then snorted. “Your lies don’t fool me. Nothing you can say will stop me taking you tonight.”
“No,” a deep masculine voice roared, “but I bloody well will.”
Suddenly the room appeared brighter, and she could breathe again. When she looked up, the first thing she saw was Mr. Sutherby’s feet dangling in the air, his legs jerking back and forth like a marionette and then she heard the loud thud as Alexander threw him to the floor.
Alexander.
Her heart fluttered in her chest, relief causing her to sigh.
Oblivious to Mr. Sutherby’s cries of protest, she stared as Alexander delivered a heavy blow to the man’s stomach. For good measure, he punched Sutherby on the nose, the blood spurting almost instantly.
“Alexander. You came.”
Leaving Mr. Sutherby in a crumpled heap, he rushed to her side and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Has he hurt you?” he said, cupping her face and kissing her softly on the mouth.
Evelyn shook her head. “No. I’m fine.” She stared into his silver-blue eyes, the rush of love and longing taking her breath away. “You came,” she repeated softly. “You came just in time.”