Judith wiggled her feet and fingers. Nothing felt broken, that was something. She rolled over onto her back, trying to figure out how she was going to get the damn horse back?
Snow mixed with sleet pelted her in the face, spurring her to get up. She lifted her head slowly and pushed herself into a sitting position. She finally crawled to her feet and pulled her hood more snugly around her face, wiping the wetness in its folds.
The wind whipped her cloak, pulling her this way and that as she leaned forward to pick up her satchel. She grabbed the handles, trying to lift the bag, but it was simply too heavy. She pulled as hard as she could with both hands. It slid behind her, the silver clanking and clattering loudly as she followed the trail left by her frightened horse.
The invisible noose was tightening on his neck and Devlin was losing all hope of ever finding Isabelle in time. He lingered under the tree, disheartened, drinking every bit of the brandy he took from Hawthorne. Obviously, he would not be indulging in something this fine ever again, so he saw no reason not to partake fully now. Every drink he took burned a path down his gullet. It felt good; at least, he could still feel something. He could not believe his brilliant plan was crashing down around him, and for what? What had he gained? Nothing, that’s what, and now he was at his wits’ end. Where the hell did she go?
He drained the last of the bottle. He was unsteady on his feet, but it mattered not. He was crestfallen, what little hope he garnered disappearing with every moment that passed. He climbed upon his horse. A crash sounded, echoing in the darkness.
He leaned forward in the saddle, trying to see, bleary-eyed, through the white flakes drifting in the darkness. In the distance, he could swear he saw someone shuffling through the snow. Elation filled him… Was it she? Could it be? He rubbed his eyes to make sure they were not playing tricks on him. His pulse quickened as he maneuvered his horse quietly from under the shelter of the snowy branches. “Isabelle!” he called into the night.
Judith froze. Good Lord, did someone yell “Isabelle?” No, it couldn’t be. Her heart hammered in her chest. She knew without looking that it was Devlin. What would he do? If he caught her, would he finish what he had started earlier? She really had only one choice… run. And run she did. Her burden forgotten, she took off across the field. Snow kicked up in her wake as she ran as fast as her legs would carry her.
Devlin was not to be thwarted. Not now, not with the balance of his own freedom hanging loosely by a thread. He dismounted, stumbling to the ground. After regaining his balance, the wind whipped and tore at him as he chased his quarry.
Judith ran onward, huffing and puffing. She felt him, rather than saw him, closing in, but she still ran, hoping for a reprieve. She was so intent on putting as much distance between Devlin and herself, she did not realize she was headed directly for a ravine.
Devlin knew where they were headed, having regained his bearings after slowing down from a stitch in his side. Bent over, he saw his target running closer towards the edge and knew in just a matter of moments, she would run right off the side. That would certainly be her fate if he did nothing to stop her. He battled a conflict from within. He could be quiet and let her seal her own fate; thereby saving himself. He waited as the moments ticked by… watching. His chest tightened as he held his breath. He found he could not stay quiet; and he sealed his own fate. He yelled out as loud as he could, “STOP, DAMN YOU!”
Judith pulled up short, stopping on the very precipice of the ravine; still not seeing her doom that lay right before her. Slowly, she turned and looked directly at Devlin with her back to the ravine.
Devlin was stunned. Why was Judith in front of him? Dawning came slowly, but when it did, her motives were crystal clear. “Judith, what in the hell are you doing?”
Judith balled up her fists. She was ready for a fight. “I am running from you, Devlin. You are a fool,” she spat out in disgust.
The wind carried her words towards Devlin, ringing loud and clear.
She stood rigidly as she braced herself against the force of the wind and Devlin’s temper.
“FOOL?” A bark of laughter split the air. “My God, Judith, you think I am a fool?” He laughed harder, suddenly finding her words hysterical. He shook his head, wiping a tear from his eye. Then, his hysterics evaporated into a slow, churning anger that came from deep inside his stomach. “You are an IDIOT, Judith. How dare you call anyone a fool when you are the biggest fool of all?” His voice took on an icy edge. “What is in the bag, Judith? Did you think you could steal us blind and run? To where? You have no place to go,” he said, leering at her in disgust.
Judith’s temper flared, “IDIOT! How dare you call me an idiot? If it were not for me, you would have been forgotten long ago by that doddering, old crone you so liked to bed. I saved you from utter monotony. At least, I could pleasure you in ways we both know that old woman could never accomplish. And you thanked me how, Devlin?” she screamed.
The coldness she felt evaporated with every blow she delivered verbally, hitting its intended mark every time. “You turned on me… me… the one person who truly understood you. You make me sick. You deserve whatever fate she metes out for you. You deserve it all.”
Devlin was stunned. He heard the hatred in Judith’s voice. He had no idea. He was a fool to think she may have actually cared. And even now, knowing firsthand what kind of loathsome woman she was, he could not let her fall unwittingly to the demise she so deserved.
“Idiot, you say?” he questioned in a deadly calm voice. “Look behind you, Judith, and please tell me who is the idiot now?”
The wind died down as if someone turned a switch off. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder and saw she was only inches from falling into the dark abyss of the ravine. She shuddered and turned back toward where Devlin stood.
Clutching her cloak and the small bag of jewels she held closely to her person as though it were her only lifeline, she took a step.
Devlin looked at her with a new pair of eyes; he actually found he pitied her now. She was a lost cause. He gave her one last lingering look, sadness settling over him; he felt defeated and tired.
Silently, he turned and began to walk away from her. He had no use for her any longer, and apparently, she had none for him as well.
Judith felt like Devlin reached into her chest and ripped her heart from her body. She could not believe he was walking away from her, without even the simplest goodbye. After all they had been through, after all the nights they spent in each other’s arms, pleasuring one another, laughing together. She was at a loss.
Was that pity she saw on his face? A hurt, deep and all-encompassing, spread over her body, making her numb for a brief moment. Then a hatred so fierce rekindled a fire from deep within crackling back to life, pulsating through her veins, turning her despair to anger.
That stinking, rotten wretch! Who in the HELL did he think he was? How dare he look at her, Judith Alexandra Beauchamp, with pity? She may be damned, but she would not be pitied. She seized her torrid emotions, letting them get the better of her, just as her greed took the better of her before. She screamed like a crazed lunatic at the top of her lungs, “DEVLIN!”
He did not turn.
She yelled even louder, splitting the air, “DEVLIN!”
Devlin heard her psychotic screams. He felt numb; he just didn’t have the fight in him any longer. So he kept walking.
Judith seethed. How could he walk away as if she were nothing, nothing…? She could not stand the way she felt. She had nothing to fight with. She wished she had a gun to shoot him right in his cold-hearted back.
Without thinking, she pulled out her coveted bag of jewels, testing the heft in her hand before throwing them at him with all her might. The bag slammed into the back of his head, hitting with such force that it knocked his hat off onto the ground.
Devlin staggered forward from the blow. His step faltered once more. He righted himself, but kept on walking.
Judith’s whole body shudde
red. She gasped for breath. What in the hell was she thinking? She needed those jewels. Of course, rage was controlling her emotions, not common sense.
But he did not even stop… he kept walking away… as if she was nothing… NOTHING! She covered her mouth to stifle the sobs that were threatening to escape. Having used the only physical weapon she had left, she felt helpless, exposed. Her whole body shook as she screamed in outrage. “YOU FOOL! You are a good-for-nothing wastrel; you’ll never fit in. NEVER, do you hear me?” she screamed again, her sobs breaking her taunts into disjointed pieces.
Devlin tried to ignore her and simply kept walking away from her vileness.
“You will be nothing more than Isabelle’s bitch; you do her bidding just as you did your mother’s!” she screamed out. Her voice cracked from the force she used to hurl her insults at his retreating form.
Devlin stopped abruptly. A flash of anger surged through his veins. He turned slowly around. Without taking his eyes from her face, he bent down and picked up the velvet purse. He pulled apart the golden braided cords and looked inside.
A shimmering array of jewels lay in the bottom. He smiled; it was cold, unfeeling. He walked purposefully back towards Judith, tossing the bag from hand to hand.
He had about all he could take of her mouth; she was, without a doubt, the vilest wench he had ever encountered. Of course, her taunts would not have affected him so much, had he not known that on some level, she was right. But that still did not mean he in any way needed to hear it, especially from her.
Judith’s smile of satisfaction faded as Devlin took another step towards her, and she felt a cold wash of fear overtaking her once more. Devlin looked at her with unfeeling eyes. She knew better than to push him further, but her anger was making her foolish.
Devlin stopped, not more than ten feet away. They both faced off at the edge of a ravine. Time seemed to stand still as they stared at one another. He was ready for battle, until the futility of it all came crashing down upon him. His shoulders slumped, conceding the fight to her; she was not worth it. He gave her one last look of derision and tossed the bag of jewels at her.
They landed just short of the ledge. He took a breath and delivered his last comment with slow deliberation. “Go ahead and take the jewels, Judith. You may have them, free and clear. No need to worry about me coming after you, as I fear they will be all you will ever have.”
With that final statement, Devlin Renquist turned on his heel from Judith, walking away a little taller and straighter than he had in a very long while.
Judith stood there, her mouth hanging open. She was speechless for the first time in her life. He did not even care about the jewels. This is what they schemed for, connived for; this is what she tried to kill for. He did not care a whit. Did he ever? she wondered. She took a breath and lifted her hand to pull the hood more snugly around her face. Her hand was shaking.
Devlin may have pretended to become a paragon, but Judith knew he was not. He was a dimwitted fool. And even if he was stupid enough to leave the jewels behind, she was not. She deserved them. Greed got the best of Judith. It always did, which gave her the courage she needed to edge closer to where the jewels lay. She carefully leaned forward towards the edge, with nothing in front of her but a big, black, gaping hole. She grabbed the jewels up swiftly, elation filling her body.
It was short-lived. She turned too quickly and stepped on the edge of her stolen cloak, pitching her body forward. She jerked backward to straighten up, but lost her footing all the more. Her arms flailed wildly as she tried desperately to regain her balance. The weight of the cloak was too heavy, and she was pulled backward slowly into the black abyss.
The last sight Judith Alexandra Beauchamp’s eyes beheld was Devlin’s silhouette walking away in the distance.
She really wished she had a gun.
Ravenhurst
A steady stream of air blew from the empty hole in the wall. Katherine waited, her frigid fingers clutching the heavy metal poker in her hand. It was her weapon of choice if the need arose.
Suddenly, the only sound in the room was her own breathing. The wind stopped. A sense of cold dread washed over her. She took a step away from the opening and listened intently, trying to hear if someone was climbing the stairs. Her whole body shook. How did the wind stop? Was there another entrance? Well, obviously, something was down there, only she wasn’t too sure she wanted to find out what that something was. Maybe she should just call it a night and hide under the blankets of the bed until morning. Right. Then whoever was down in the hole, would sneak his gross ass up the stairs and kill her while she slept. Not an option.
A little voice whispered in her mind… curiosity killed the cat.
Oh good Lord, what would stop it from killing her?
Katherine lifted the poker up, feeling the heaviness in her hand and swung it in the air a few times like a baseball bat. The weight and momentum made her stumble forward; she barely missed careening into the mirror. Perfect.
Maybe she should give up being a detective and find Milford, or the crazy maid with the rag that tried to kill her. Then she could shove her ass down the stairs. That would work…Well, that is if the maid didn’t suffocate her with another rag before that. No, she didn’t think that was an option either.
She could always ask Sebastian. He would be gung-ho to help her… right, especially after running off in the middle of their heated moment together. Face it, Katherine, you are a nothing but a big, ol’ chicken. She lifted her arms, bending them at the elbows and flapped them a few times while making a bock-bock noise… just like the chicken she was. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she looked and felt stupid. She lowered her arms. Good Lord this place is was starting to get to her.
No, it was probably better to fly solo on this. Gathering what little courage she had left, she walked over to the front of the armoire and pulled the double doors open. Lined neatly on the bottom were rows of shoes. She tossed out several pairs of shoes onto the floor. They clattered loudly. She didn’t care.
In the back corner of the armoire, she finally found a sturdy pair of walking boots.
Katherine stood; a chill ran up her spine, sending shivers all over her body. She looked down at her little, prissy, child gown, with adult transparency. Well, this won’t do. She needed to change into something less revealing. She stuck her head back into the armoire, feeling the fabrics of many of the gowns until she found one that was made out of a material similar to flannel. It was plaid. Go figure.
She quickly ditched her flouncy robe, and pulled the soft flannel-like gown over her head, buttoning it up the front. She felt much warmer immediately. To be on the safe side, she went to the bottom of the bureau and pulled out one of the heavier shawls. This one looked more like a blanket, a scratchy, smelly, horse blanket, but at least, it was warm.
The awesome, sparkly amulet was lying there among the shawls. Oh hell.
Katherine grabbed it and put it around her neck. This time, the clasp opened easily, just like the first time she put it on. Feeling the weight hanging on her chest, she felt much better. If somehow she ended up in a pit, maybe she could wish the real Marguerite in it, and then she could dress to the nines in some fancy apartment instead of Marguerite.
She really had no idea what would happen, but it was a chance she was ready to take. At least, she thought it was. With a deep, shaky breath, she threw caution to the wind, one last time, grabbing the little, floral porcelain candleholder once more as she squeezed behind the armoire. She entered the darkness. It was black as pitch, so she lifted the candle away from her body to light the way. The flame fluttered, revealing a steep set of stairs. Katherine took a shaky step down, tapping her toe to make sure the floor was secure. The last thing she needed was to tumble down the stairs. Her heart raced and her mind screamed she was a fool, but she ignored her mind, taking another step down, questioning her sanity all the while.
<>*LB*<>
…Ravenhurst, curiosity killed the
cat
Milford walked briskly down the hall before entering Marguerite’s old chamber. He was out of breath. He quickly shut the door and turned the lock. He hoped Katherine was still awake. However, when he approached the bed, it was still made. No Katherine in sight.
He thought mayhap she was in the water closet. He looked over; the door was open. He peeked around the corner of the door; it was empty as well. Where had she gone? He did not pass her in the hall and he knew the other doors were locked; he made sure of that.
He checked the bureau and saw the amulet was missing. “Damn.” Now what was he to do? Leave her to her own devices? And where would that lead Marguerite? He wondered how the girl was faring in the twentieth century, and what of Katherine? If she knew what she could do with the help of the amulet, would she still go through with what had been planned so long ago?
He let out a heavy sigh, well, that was a moot point anyway. Katherine was the only person who could direct their fates, as twisted as they may become, and she was the only one who could untwist those same fates.
He left the room as cautiously as he had entered it and returned to his own room. He sat down on a chair in front of the fire, feeling for the first time the full weight of the burden of what he had done all those centuries before.
Ravenhurst - the Past…
“So my little friend, I see you have made your way back to me. Are you in need of my assistance yet again?” His voice was laced with a chilling edge as he spoke.
He turned then, lifting a questioning brow at the boy standing in the doorway. “Ah wait, you went further the last time, did you not, to her, and now you are back. Did my warnings not predict this outcome?” He took a step forward then paused. “I know it is neither here nor there but I would like to hear it from your mouth. Tell me did all go the way you wished?” He turned his icy gaze on the boy, waiting.
“I don’t know.” Milford supplied his words, barely audible. His small frame quaked in the doorway to his room.
“I warned you not to trust her. She is a deceptive girl. She lets envy and jealousy get in the way of what is right and wrong. He does not even want her; he never did, and yet, she will not relinquish her hold even though it is not her hold to have.” His words rushed from his mouth, revealing the truth as he spoke; but he could not lose the hope he had for her, even though he knew it was futile.
Forgotten Time (Ravenhurst Series, #1) A New Adult Time Travel Romance Page 14