by Sharon Green
And then he'd dragged her to her bedchamber, thrust her inside, and locked the door again. She turned her head to glare at that door, but the situation wasn't the complete loss it might have been. It had finally come to her notice that the key to her prison was kept in the very lock it opened. Since more than one person needed to open the door that made sense, but it also gave Rianne a means of escape. Those wonderful books she read that the brute didn't approve of - with their help and the fact that her husband hadn't yet realized she meant to escape…
Rianne was lost so thoroughly in making plans that when a knock came at her door it startled her. She didn't know how much time had passed, but when the door opened almost immediately she found out. Mrs. Raymond came in leading a girl carrying a tray, but didn't speak until the tray was put down and the girl was gone.
"That's your lunch," she told Rianne then, a weariness in her voice, then she blurted, "I can't understand why you insist on fighting with him! He's the man you'll be spending the rest of your life with. If you think you'd rather have that life filled with struggle instead of love, you're a hopeless child."
"I would say that was my choice rather than yours," Rianne drawled, trying to get rid of the woman. "Why don't you find someone who's interested in the wisdom of maturity."
"Because I haven't finished saying what I was told to," the woman replied with a deep sigh of defeat. "Your husband has left word that he'll be spending the day with the men, but will return to the house at six and will see you then. He asked me to remind you that there will be a guest tonight for dinner, which will be at eight. He'll discuss the matter with you when he returns at six."
Mrs. Raymond then gave a small curtsy before going out, leaving Rianne more than a little upset. She had forgotten they would have a guest for dinner that evening, and the worst part was who that guest would be. Robert Harding, her stepfather, would walk in with a smug and dirty laugh, already knowing what had been done to her by her new husband, and reveling in her degradation! And what if Machlin came back at six and somehow bewitched her into doing it again? That would be only a short while before her stepfather arrived, and would be even worse yet! She would be completely and totally humiliated, and she couldn't bear the thought.
"But I won't be humiliated if I manage to escape," she muttered after a moment in an effort to calm herself. She had all the rest of the afternoon to accomplish it, and if she didn't get away she'd deserve whatever happened afterward. And she would do justice to her lunch, since there was no knowing when she would be able to eat after she was free. She went to the tray and began uncovering dishes, firmly refusing to think about last night, and the way she would never be bewitched again.
Rianne was sweating by the time she had the key in her hand. She'd eaten and changed her clothes, but being well fed and in breeches and shirt and boots didn't bring immediate escape. She knew what had to be done, but finding the means to accomplish it became the problem. Something to poke through the keyhole to dislodge the key, and something else to catch the key when it fell and carry it back under the door.
The more urgent need was the something to go under the door. Pushing the key out would be wasted effort if there wasn't some way to reach it, but nothing in the bedchamber seemed right. Rianne tore apart everything in her wardrobe and then searched the storage chests. Those items stiff enough to position were too thick to fit under the door, while those that were thin enough were too limp to be property positioned. More wasted time went by while she searched through the wreckage again, but nothing had been missed. And there certainly wasn't anything that this all but empty room itself could offer -
Except for one thing. Rianne laughed with relief as she hurried to the modest painting on one wall, certainly hung there because of its colors. Its depiction of a woods at dawn, all rose and gold rather than green and brown, blended so well with the room's decorations that she'd looked at it any number of times without really seeing it. Its canvas would be perfect for her needs - as soon as she got it loose from its mounting.
Fighting the canvas free took even more time, but finally the medium-sized landscape was hers. A brief test showed it fit easily under the door, but Rianne didn't leave it there. She still had to find something to push the key out with, and didn't care to leave the canvas where someone might see it.
As she looked for something suitable, she began to worry. What if the brute had set a guard on her, someone who was waiting only for her to step through the door? What if someone had seen the canvas, understood what she was doing, and was right then informing her husband? What if -
"No more!" she hissed at herself, one hand in her hair where she stood uselessly still. "If he finds out and stops you, then you'll be stopped. But if he doesn't - do you intend to do his stopping for him?"
Not likely was the only response possible, one which sent her back to searching with renewed enthusiasm. She had no idea what the man would do if he caught her, and if her luck held she would never find out.
A moment later she came across exactly what she'd been looking for, hidden away in the bottom of a chest: a silver candle-snuffer with a long, tapering handle that ended in a slender point. What the thing was doing in there Rianne had no idea, nor did she care. Being perfect for her purposes she immediately set to work with it, first sliding the canvas into position.
Nudge the key out gently, she told herself. Be careful not to make it snag somewhere on the lock. Also, don't push too hard, or it will bounce off the canvas and out of reach. Rianne had to shake her head twice to rid her eyes of sweat-soaked hair, and by the time the key was out her knees were aching. She heard the soft "plop" of its fall, slid back quickly along the polished floor, began to ease the canvas back under the door…
And there it was, the shiny brass road to her freedom. Once she had it in hand, she paused only long enough to hide the canvas and its frame under the mattress on the bed, and returned the candle-snuffer to its place in the chest. No sense in letting everyone know what she'd done; if worse came to worst, she might need to do it again…
Unlocking the door and peeking into the sitting room was a time of heart-thundering nervousness. Rianne kept expecting to get caught, an attitude she found new and utterly frustrating. She snarled at herself in annoyance while relocking the door, leaving the key protruding as it had been before, then hurried through the sitting room to the hall. Putting the key back where it belonged would mean more time before her absence was discovered - assuming she could get out of the house without meeting anyone.
But luck was really with her. Not only was there not a single soul to be seen anywhere in the house, slipping through the front door showed the grounds to be equally deserted. Granted she still had to cross the drive and lawn before reaching the cover of trees, but excitement flared too strongly in her for doubt to have a chance. With the stables and training barracks around at the back of the house, no one would see her go.
Rianne started out walking toward the trees to keep from attracting attention, but when she reached the halfway mark she just had to run. She'd realized that anyone seeing her would know her by her hair color, so not running would be helping them rather than herself. She hadn't been able to bring herself to look back at the house … hadn't wanted to see a giant, dark-red-haired figure chasing after her… God, what would she do if she did see him…? Run, you stupid girl, run!
Panting and gasping turned running into a stumble, but not immediately. By the time Rianne just had to slow, she was among the first of the trees and moving deeper into safety. A forced glance back showed no one at all, no alarm being spread, no one giving chase. She brought herself to a stop by throwing her arms around a tree, but didn't collapse to the ground as she might have at another time. As soon as she had her breath back -
"Ssst, Ree!" came from so close that she nearly took off again. If she'd had the breath she would have, which made it a lucky thing she didn't. It came to her through the fog of panic that the voice was Cam's, and then he stepped out from behin
d a tree to gesture her to him. Only ten feet away to her left. If she'd kept running, she would have gone right by him.
When she reached his tree he pulled her behind it, and then they took a moment to hug. It was incredible that he would be there, when she'd expected to have to go all the way to the cave before she saw him or Angus again. She closed her eyes as she clung to this tall brother of hers, and his right hand came up to stroke her hair.
"Are you all right?" he whispered, the words choked with anger. "Angus and I didn't find out what happened yesterday until this morning, when I went back to see to our chores. If only we'd known sooner…"
"You still wouldn't have been able to do anything," she finished when he didn't, raising her head to took at him. "It's true, Cam, so don't beat yourself for not being there. We couldn't have gotten away with everyone within twenty miles chasing after us, which would have happened if we'd tried it. But what are you doing here? You couldn't possibly have known - "
"That you would escape as soon as you could?" he interrupted with a snort. "Come on, Ree, remember who you're talking to. And besides… If you hadn't made it by tonight, I would have gone in after you. Angus and I talked it over and agreed I had to try. He's healing well, but he still has to rest. You should have heard him cursing over not being able to go with me."
"I can imagine," she said with a soft laugh, deliriously relieved to be with her own again. "But let's save this for when we're back at the cave. The clock I passed in the hall said it was after four, and by six o'clock at the latest they'll know I'm gone. When that happens, I don't want to be anywhere near here."
"Ree, wait," Cam said, catching her before she took off through the woods. "We don't have to go back to the cave. Angus had me load everything onto the coach and that's where he's waiting, less than a mile from here. All we needed was you, and now that we have you we can get going. Toward London and freedom."
"Freedom," Rianne whispered, taking the hand he held out and squeezing it. "Oh, Cam, I can't believe we're finally doing it. But what about Angus? Are you sure he's strong enough to travel?"
"He said that if we won't go with him, he's going alone." Cam's grin was wide in the late-afternoon sunshine, sharing reassurance along with the joke. "He really is a lot stronger than I thought he would be at first, and I haven't been letting him do any of the work. He's riding in the coach like a great lord, but he'd better not get too used to it. Once we reach the colonies, I won't be doing anyone's share but my own."
"Just as we all will," she agreed with another laugh. "So what are you waiting for? Let's get on with it."
He joined her soft laughter and began to lead the way, through the woods toward the waiting coach. Rianne thought briefly about six o'clock, but didn't let herself turn back for a final look at the house she'd escaped from. There would be anger when her absence was discovered, but no real sense of loss. Only her brothers missed her when she wasn't there; everyone else felt relieved, which was certainly what a giant with dark-red hair would feel. After all, her inheritance would be his whether she was there or not…
Chapter Nine
Bryan stood barefoot in breeches, staring into his wardrobe and trying to decide what to wear. He was clean again after working up a good sweat with the men, but just being clean wasn't enough. He felt the need for something special, something that would be just the right touch. What did other men wear when they went to attack their wives? He really wanted to make love to Rianne again, but after the way they'd argued earlier, attack was probably the only way he'd get her. If he could just think of a way to get her to attack him … or learn to keep his big mouth shut and his temper firmly in hand…
"Bryan, are you there? Bryan?"
The voice was Sarah Raymond's, and he realized he'd been hearing her knock for the last minute or two without really being aware of it. Great. Now he was going deaf as well as stupid.
"Yes, I'm in here, Sarah," he called back. "Come on in."
The door opened and the small woman walked in, but no more than a step or two. When she saw Bryan's bare chest she stopped short, upset rather than embarrassed.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I hadn't realized you weren't dressed yet," she said, beginning to step out again. "I'll come back in a few - "
"No, it's all right," Bryan interrupted as he reached for a shirt. "Did you need me for something?"
"I've - come to make a confession of sorts," she answered with a sigh, her dark eyes troubled. "I couldn't keep from opening my big mouth when I brought your wife her lunch and your message, and she looked really disturbed. If I made things worse between you two I'll never forgive myself, even though I only told her she was foolish for fighting with you. She pretended to be uninterested in my opinion, but she still looked disturbed."
"I'm probably more responsible for that than you are," Bryan said, and not just to reassure his partner's wife. "You told me to be gentle with her and I agreed I would be, then I turned around and let her force me into an argument. I'm beginning to feel like a hopeless case, but I know I can count on you. You'll tell me the best thing to try next."
"Me?" she countered with brows raised, watching him stamp into his boots. "I'm not even sure what day this is. And I'm busy getting ready for your dinner guest, yes, very busy. Most of the staff will be out of sight, but close enough to call in case they're needed. That will depend on what size escort he brings. If there's only a coach driver, the man will be kept occupied in the kitchen. We - "
"Sarah," Bryan interrupted again, getting to his feet. "I know the plan. Since I'm the one who developed it, I should know. After tonight I'll have what I need - except for a way to deal with my wife. Which I need before tonight, but I'm not about to get that, am I."
Sarah shook her head with a commiserating smile.
"So there's no sense in putting off the confrontation," he said with a sigh, then cocked his head at her. "Is this the way the beginning of Jamie's marriage went with you?"
"Oh, absolutely," she said with a small laugh. "All marriages start like this. Didn't you know that?"
"People were kind enough to leave me in ignorance," he responded with a shake of his head. "I thought there would be nothing worse than hysterics, which right now I'd happily settle for. Even if they came from me."
"Now there's an idea," Sarah said, backing through the doorway to give him access to it. "If you have hysterics, she'll have to do something to calm you down. Then, while she's feeling tender, you can go on to the fun part of marriage."
"Tender, my sweet wife?" Bryan asked with brows high. "Sarah, you must be feverish. She'd probably stop the hysterics by hitting me with something hard. And with that in mind, you'd better come along and collect her lunch tray. Putting extra ammunition into her hands would be stupid."
Sarah nodded ruefully, then led the way to the girl's rooms. Bryan spent the short trip thinking about the woman who was waiting for him, the woman who was now his wife. He wanted her so badly it was a physical pain, but even more he wanted her to want him. He could make it happen. He could, if only he found the right path through the swamp…
"I've stopped waiting after knocking," Sarah said, turning the key in the lock. "And it is silly, asking for permission to enter a room you'll be entering anyway. Here we go."
She knocked once before opening the door, then started into the room. Bryan, still distracted, followed - and almost ran her down when she stopped short.
"What happened in here?" Sarah asked, looking around in bewilderment at the clothing strewn every which way. It wasn't clothing alone, Bryan saw after a moment. Everything that hadn't been nailed down was part of the debris on the floor.
"And where's your wife?" Sarah pursued, this time making him blink. "She couldn't have gotten out, but I don't see her anywhere."
"She has to be hiding," Bryan responded, refusing to acknowledge the clutch of fear around his heart. "She couldn't have run away before I found a way to - Go get some of the staff. I want every inch of this room searched."
B
ryan watched her hurry out, but refused to let himself think while he began the search himself. Rianne would not be gone, not when he'd had less than two days with her. No one could have reached her in so short a time, so it wasn't his fault that things had gotten worse instead of better. She hadn't run away with his first real chance for happiness, it just wasn't possible…
He stopped in the middle of the room when Sarah came back with two housemaids, finally admitting he was wasting his time. The girl couldn't possibly be hiding in there, so it was time to head for the barracks. Some of his men were top-notch trackers, and he'd forced himself to admit that that was what he needed now. It was starting to get dark, so he'd better hurry.
Once he'd set them to it, it didn't take his men long to find the story left in the ground. She'd gone out of the house and headed straight across the lawn, walking at first and then running. She may have been a big girl, but her boots were smaller than any other pair on the estate. She'd made it to the trees, stopped briefly, then joined someone in a man-sized pair of boots. The two had gone off together through the woods…
"Damn me for the fool I am!" Bryan fumed when he heard that. "Those two she rode with! She must have known at least one would be waiting, and was only waiting herself for me to turn my back. I should have gotten their names out of her first thing, and made sure they were too well occupied to interfere in what was none of their business. When I catch up to them - "
"Terry's followin' 'em through the woods right now," Jake supplied, phlegmatic as always. Jake was in charge of the barracks, and was due for promotion to leader of a company as soon as an opening became available. "When he finds where they come t'roost, he'll get back here on th' gallop."
Bryan had no time to nod in acknowledgment. As soon as the words were out of Jake's mouth, Terry's horse burst from the woods and headed straight for them. Terry had followed the trail on foot, but there was no sense in doing the same coming back.