by Sue Lyndon
The moment it sounded like a fight broke out below, she rushed to get dressed. She donned her torn purple gown and used strips of ribbon from the sleeves to tie up the front, lacing the white ribbon through the buttonholes and tying a bow at the top. She stepped into her slippers and rushed to the door. With her ear against the smooth wood, she listened to the scuffle, her pulse skittering faster and faster.
She hoped Jackson wasn’t a criminal, and at the same time also hoped no harm came to him. If he was taken away by the constable, what would become of her? They hadn’t consummated their marriage yet, and as a result she worried their union wouldn’t be considered official. Each village had different laws and she wasn’t familiar with the particulars of Gerrardsville’s laws pertaining to family and marriage.
Quiet descended and she heard the heavy front door slam shut. She ran to the window and gasped. Two lawmen were dragging Jackson to the carriage, and the constable walked behind them, readjusting his tall black hat as he shouted something to the driver. They all climbed inside and the carriage took off, disappearing down the short cobblestone drive to the tree lined street.
Should she leave? Should she return to the streets and pretend her marriage to Jackson had never happened? What if he never returned?
He’d told her to remain in the bedroom, but she certainly couldn’t wait here until he came home. Depending on his crime he might even be headed for the gallows. She shuddered, recalling the last time a hanging had taken place. The village had gone wild, with men, women, and children gathering in the square to witness the justice taking place.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. One of the new maids, she thought. Perhaps the girl would know what had happened to Jackson and offer counsel. Though she’d lived in this village for months, she didn’t have any friends here and hadn’t a clue who to approach for help.
The knob turned and the door didn’t open. Of course not. Jackson had locked it. Lucia opened her mouth to tell the maid to look for a key when the door crashed open, wood cracking and splinters flying. She screamed and jumped back.
A gasp became stuck in her throat when she set her gaze upon the man who’d come up the stairs.
Surely her eyes must be deceiving her.
She forced a breath out and put a steadying hand on the bed as the man strode into the room with a smug grin.
“Uncle Robert?” she finally said when he remained silent for too long.
“Ah, my sweet little niece. I’ve been so worried about you.” The cruelness in his black gaze seemed to sparkle and belied the kindness of his words. A shiver prickled down her back.
A thousand questions pushed to the forefront of her mind, but she was too stunned and disoriented to pick one, so she simply stared at the uncle she had thought long dead.
She had never liked him, thought him gruff and more of a misogynist than most men. On their travels from Lincolnshire, he’d made it abundantly clear that she was an inconvenience and he meant to secure her a husband the moment they reached Marysville. When she protested and said she wished to become acquainted with the eligible men from his village and have some say in her choice of husband, he had grabbed a handful of her hair and cowed her into submission. Truth be told, his death hadn’t saddened her.
“The fire?” she finally asked, referring to the blaze that had destroyed the tavern he’d visited the night of his disappearance, the night she assumed he had perished along with twelve other men. Many of the charred bodies that had been pulled from the collapsed building weren’t recognizable, and she’d believed her uncle to be one of them.
He shrugged, as if it mattered not that she’d been living on the street for months after his disappearance. Though she despised him and hadn’t mourned his death, she felt wounded that he’d left her to fend for herself. Why had he gone all the way to Lincolnshire to fetch her if only to abandon her halfway through their journey?
“You were costing me a lot of money, Lucia, and I was trying to help my financial situation that night.”
Bastard.
She snorted. “You mean you were gambling?”
His visage darkened and he tensed. “I had also received word that the gentleman I had intended for you to wed in Marystown married another. Without a more substantial dowry, you would have been nothing but a burden to me.”
She saw red and clutched at a bedpost. How dare he call her a burden? No one had held a gun to his head and forced him to get her from the orphanage. “If a female relative is such a tremendous burden, why did you even bother?”
To her surprise, he flushed and fidgeted in place. “I had hoped giving you to a business associate of mine would bolster my standing in the community. Losing the money I’d intended to use as your dowry altered my plan even more so after I discovered my business associate married another. As soon as the fire broke out, I decided…”
“You decided to leave the village to avoid paying your debts at the inn?”
“Clever girl.” He strode to her and grasped her by the shoulders. “And now you’ve landed the richest husband in Gerrardsville. After all the trouble and expense you caused me, I deserve to be reimbursed, don’t you think?”
She thrashed in his grip and tried to escape, but he tightened his hold, digging his fingers into her arms so hard the pain brought tears to her eyes. “Let me go! I’m married now and you hold no sway over me!”
“Untrue.” He smiled. “Jackson McNabe married you without the consent of a male relative, something that is very much illegal in this village.”
“He doesn’t need the consent of a male relative if all my male relatives are dead!”
Her uncle’s grin widened to reveal crooked, yellow teeth. His hot putrid breath turned her stomach. “What can I say? I arrived back in town just in time. Imagine my delight when I saw the new marriage posting in the square.”
His nails dug into her flesh and she wanted to scream. Anger and terror combined, and she hated that she was at her uncle’s mercy yet again. At least on the streets she had been free from his tyranny.
“If you wanted money, why didn’t you just ask Jackson? A quiet bribe? Why involve the constable and have him arrested?”
Her uncle pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and grasped the longest one, dangling them in the air. “Because as his wife, you have access to his accounts. We’ll be visiting the bank to clean out the gold coins he keeps secure in a lockbox there, and before we leave we’ll take the valuables from this house with us as well.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!”
She heard the slap of his hand across her face before the sting registered. Shocked, she stumbled backward after he released her. Her legs hit the bed and she fell upon the mattress, holding her cheek as the taste of blood filled her mouth.
“You will do as I say. We must move quickly before Jackson’s lawyer secures his release. Then once we reach Marystown, I’ll have no trouble marrying you off to another gentleman of my choosing. With a dowry funded by Jackson McNabe, you will be the most sought after bride in town.”
“But I’m already married!”
“Even if you’ve consummated the marriage, I can easily have it annulled. Your father and brothers are dead. You have no other male relative to challenge me. Forget Jackson McNabe. He will hate you once he realizes what you’ve done.”
His words left her so cold her teeth started chattering. Or maybe her shock was so great. She had never felt so helpless and so lost.
Her uncle spoke the truth about one thing. Jackson would hate her once he was released from jail to discover he’d been robbed. He would assume she had played a part in the scheme to steal his money and lavish possessions. He wouldn’t think she had innocently come into his house to warm herself by the fire after all, and he most certainly would not come to her rescue.
No, if Jackson McNabe came after her, it would be in the name of retribution.
Chapter Six
Thirty minutes. It had taken all of thirty minutes for Jackson’s
lawyer to arrive and to press the constable into confessing his part in an elaborate scheme against him. Rich as he was, Jackson had suspected from the moment of his arrest that the constable had been bribed to lock him up. It hadn’t taken long to put all the pieces together and figure out Lucia and her supposedly deceased uncle’s part in a grand scheme to escape town with a large amount of his money.
“Don’t harm the girl,” Phillip said as they made haste through the streets. “Let the new constable take care of her and her uncle.”
Jackson glanced at his lawyer and trusted friend as they walked to his bank. Law officers had been dispatched to his home and the bank upon the constable’s confession, and he hoped they had arrived in time to stop Lucia and her uncle. Despite her part in the scheme, he felt a pang of pity for the girl. What if she had been coerced?
She had played the part well though, damn her. He had trusted her to be an innocent. When she’d claimed to be a good girl, he had believed her admission deep in his soul. The thought of having a sweet wife to share the upcoming holidays with had spurred him into a hasty marriage, not to mention his dark intense desire to claim the beautiful girl as his in every way.
“She’s my wife,” Jackson finally said through clenched teeth.
Phillip looked aghast. “You don’t mean to keep her as your wife after what she’s done, do you, Jackson? Have you lost your mind, man?”
“When she’s found, I will take responsibility for her. I don’t want her locked up.”
Before Phillip could argue further, the bank came into sight beyond the large Christmas tree in the square. Two officers stood guard outside, and Jackson rushed into the red brick building, immediately searching out his traitorous wife.
Did he still want her? Was he so desperate for feminine companionship that he’d take a scheming woman?
He pushed through a small throng inside the bank and came upon Lucia and her uncle. Both were seated on the ground, their hands secured behind their backs.
“It was all her idea!” her uncle said.
Tears streamed down Lucia’s pale countenance, and despite what she’d done, Jackson knelt beside her and brushed her hair from her face. His hands weren’t as steady as he would’ve liked. He wanted to strangle her, but he also wanted to embrace her while uttering soothing words in her ear. Her eyes bulged when she met his gaze, but she remained quiet, even as her uncle continued describing how the entire plot had been concocted by Lucia.
“My heathen niece saw his large, fancy house and that’s when it all started…”
Jackson pulled Lucia to her feet and wrapped an arm around her. He looked at the officers and in a commanding voice said, “She is my wife and I am pressing no charges against her. I am taking her home. The uncle and the constable I want charged to the fullest extent of the law.”
Slave labor. That’s what they would get. Forced servitude, probably in the construction of the new railroads. Whether she was guilty or not, he couldn’t bear the thought of Lucia doing hard labor for her crimes—especially knowing Madame Angelic would probably pay her way out of jail. No, he wouldn’t stand for it.
Phillip walked home with them and helped disperse the officers after their arrival. During the short trip back, Jackson hadn’t said a word to Lucia. He kept his arm around her and marched her through the curious onlookers. She had trembled in his hold and struggled to keep up, but he hadn’t slowed his pace. He wanted her safe inside his house and away from the eyes of the villagers. Once he had her locked in his bedroom again, he could better decide what to do with her.
He tossed her upon the bed, and she fell easily atop the messed up covers, unable to catch herself since her hands were still secured behind her back. An officer had given him the keys to the manacles, and he reached in his pocket to finger the cool metal but didn’t release her bonds. He left her alone in the room for several minutes and went to calm down in the sitting room.
Pacing in front of the crackling fire, he ran a hand through his hair and muttered a string of curses. His hands still itched with the urge to throttle her, but he wouldn’t harm her in such a way even if she had devised the entire scheme, like her uncle claimed she had. Whip her, yes. Cane her, perhaps.
Could he mold such an errant young lady into a proper wife? He suddenly wasn’t so certain, but he still felt responsible for her. Damn her innocent looks and large blue eyes. She truly had bewitched him.
He took several deep, steadying breaths, and fetched a long sturdy cane from his study. Whether he used it on Lucia or not depended on her answers to his questions. He sincerely hoped he didn’t have to punish her so severely, but if she had indeed been the mastermind behind his arrest, he would not hesitate to administer swift and stinging justice. One session with the cane and he doubted she would ever think of cheating him again.
Once the blazing edges of his anger burned away, he climbed the steps two at a time. His heart grew heavier and heavier the closer he came to the bedroom, and the cane felt like a weight in his hand.
He opened the door, this time noticing the wood was cracked as if it had been kicked in, and found Lucia where he’d left her on the bed, her arms still secured at the small of her back. He’d left her alone for no more than fifteen minutes.
“Lucia, look at me.”
She lifted her head and stared at him, her face tear streaked and her lower lip quivering. She paled and her eyes went wide when she spotted the cane dangling from his hand.
“Whether or not I use this on you, Lucia, depends on how you answer the questions I’m about to ask. I expect to hear the full truth, even if you indeed played a part in the scheme against me. Trust me, wife, you don’t want to lie to me right now.”
Lucia watched with a look of horror as Jackson placed the cane down atop the massive wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He pulled a key from his pocket and gestured for her to turn over on her stomach. She obeyed and allowed him to release her from the cold manacles.
“Cane me if you must.” She twisted around to meet his gaze. “But know that I had nothing to do with my uncle’s plan to steal from you. I swear it. I thought he was dead. He disappeared the night the Beaver Tavern burned down. I had to work off the debt he didn’t pay at the inn we had been staying at, and then I was cast into the streets where I’ve been living for months, all the while believing he was one of the charred bodies pulled from the rubble.”
Jackson stared at her for a long moment, holding his breath. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t lying. He studied her for any sign of ill intent. He considered himself a good reader of faces. If a man tried to swindle him, he always knew it at once. His father had taught him how to read body language when making business deals. Failure to maintain eye contact, fidgeting, sweating, and rubbing the back of one’s neck were the most telltale signs to look for.
Lucia appeared stricken, but she didn’t look away nor did she fidget. If anything, she seemed resolved, as if she had accepted whatever he planned to do to her, even though she shared no guilt with her uncle.
His gaze fell to the angry red marks on her arms, and it was then that he noticed a fading pink mark on her left cheek. Her bastard uncle must’ve slapped her.
“Jesus Christ,” he said, untying the front of her dress. He pulled the fabric down and freed her arms from her gown, and she made no protest as he undressed her halfway. “What did he do to you, Lucia?”
*
Jackson’s concern with the bruises and red marks her uncle had left on her arms gave her hope that he believed her. He examined each of her arms, concern etched on his handsome face.
Had it only been two hours since they’d spoken their vows? It seemed as if days had passed since then. She was glad to see him, even if he ended up holding her responsible for her uncle’s scheme. But God, please let him believe me.
Since meeting him, she had dreamed of their future and how they might one day fall in love. Silly girlish dreams, mayhap, but those dreams would certainly never come true if he thought her a crimi
nal and a liar.
“You fought back against your uncle?” He caressed a hand up and down her arms, as if he might heal her bruises with a gentle touch of his fingers.
She nodded. “I didn’t want to steal from you. I didn’t want to go with him, either. He wanted to take me back to Marystown and force me to marry another.” The rest of the truth came tumbling out. She told of how horribly her uncle had treated her on the journey from the orphanage, and how he had planned to marry her off as soon as possible to a man she’d never met. When she finished speaking, she swallowed hard and peered into his eyes, looking for a sign that he believed her. Please God, please.
At last he reached for her, taking her into his arms and pressing her head against his chest. His embrace calmed the turmoil in her heart. He stroked her hair while outside the wind howled as an afternoon storm blew in. From her warm, safe spot in his arms, she saw the first snowflakes of the season blustering past the window.
“I believe you, Lucia.” He sighed and kissed the top of her head, the tension seeming to drain from his body.
“You’re not going to cane me, are you?” She had to ask. The tightness in her stomach wouldn’t ease until she knew for sure. She had never been caned before but had heard the sting was brutal.
He pulled back and cupped her face. “No, Lucia, I’m not going to cane you.” His gaze darkened with lust and she felt the hardness at the juncture of his thighs poking at her side, reminding her that they hadn’t yet consummated their marriage. “I’m sorry he hurt you, my sweet. I swear he’ll never bother you again, and I promise to keep you safe always.”
He kissed her then, tenderly at first, but soon he claimed her mouth with greater force as he thrust his tongue against hers.
In a flurry of motion, he pushed her dress the rest of the way off, followed by her slippers and underthings. His own clothing came next, and he wasted no time in crawling atop her.