Mark of Caine Trilogy: Book One: Hidden in the Shadows (Victorian Villains)

by Catherine Lloyd

  The vicar intoned the recitation of the vows. The final step was upon them and Tanner was doing nothing to stop it. He seemed as out of his depth as she was. Laura glanced wildly at the assembly and then heard her voice saying “I will.”

  Tanner kissed her, a chaste dry peck on the lips.

  He took her arm and led her out of the chapel at a rapid pace.

  His bride.

  She was leaving Gateshead the wife of a complete stranger!

  Panic held her fast. Her heart was skipping violently. She could not breathe. Tanner’s arm tightened around his waist, holding her up. “Hold on a little longer. Do not say anything. Unless you want to live out the rest of your days here, you will see this through,” he hissed savagely.

  He showed her his left side, pulled and misshapen. A shiver of intuition brushed through her mind like a shadow.

  Tanner Caine was hiding something.

  §

  HAWTHORNE HALL was a small manor house, formally the hunting lodge of a great estate that had been pulled down long ago, and the field and forest reclaimed by thorny brambles and wildlife. It was a moody, disturbing wilderness to Laura who was accustomed to cultivated gardens and perfectly groomed landscapes.

  “This is your home?” she asked doubtfully.

  The house itself had a rustic charm and she could see the appeal of the Tudor-style lodging for a single man who loved sport and spent most of his time out-of-doors. But there were few chimneys, and the Elizabethan windows of lead-pane diamond shapes were depressing. How could a young man so full of life prefer this old house over smart, new apartments in London?

  “It is like something out of a fairy tale,” she said without thinking. “I expect to see pixies living here or perhaps a family of trolls.”

  Tanner twisted in the saddle. “I could always return you to Gateshead if Hawthorne will not suit.”

  The journey through Bracknell Forest had been undertaken at a breakneck pace. After leaving the front gates of the asylum, Tanner had vaulted astride his horse, and with a mighty heave, he pulled Laura up behind him.

  She had not been prepared for the rapid response of the animal and came close to falling off when the horse jolted to life. “Hold to me—tighter!” Tanner instructed as they charged off into the forest.

  He was not leaving their escape to chance and he was right. Laura could feel Mrs. Sutherland’s eyes boring a hole into the back of her head. She sensed the moment was coming when she would be ordered back to the asylum.

  But they were not detained; there were no papers to sign or permissions to receive, nothing at all to prevent them from leaving. Tanner Caine was Laura Mayhew’s husband and he could walk out of the asylum with her on his arm and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

  Laura had marvelled at the boldness of his plan. It could have so easily backfired, but she suspected Tanner Caine was a man with whom few people would dare to interfere.

  She had to include herself in that group. For her freedom from Gateshead had come at a price by entering into marriage with a man she knew nothing about. Laura had been relying on her gift of second sight to protect her from potential evil. But on the journey through Bracknell Forest, Laura discovered the one person whose thoughts she could not read was the stranger she had vowed to love, honour and obey.

  She had clutched him tightly about the middle, ducking her head to avoid being decapitated by a low hanging branch, and pressed her cheek against his broad back. Her thighs were pushed against his hips so that not even a slip of paper could have come between them. It was impossible to be unaffected by Caine’s lithe muscular strength, or ignore his scent, which was clean and smelled of the sea, though, surely, he did not live near the sea.

  “Where are we going?”

  “My house in Bracknell Forest, Hawthorne Hall. It is a two-hour ride from here. If they haven’t already sent a messenger to Sir Mayhew’s office in London to inform him of your departure, they will soon. Your father will be looking for us. It’s only a matter of time before they come to Hawthorne. We have a couple of days at best.”

  Tanner Caine had bent over the horse, urging it to a gallop. She rounded over his broad back as though she were cradling him. The beast picked up speed and Laura gripped him tighter to keep her balance. She was deeply aware of him physically, and yet she could not read the man himself.

  Laura had never experienced that before, of being unable to tap into a person’s inner workings. In the beginning, when she was younger it didn’t come so easily, but now it was usually just a matter of going quiet within and listening.

  Tanner’s deformed half-face had turned in her direction. His black brows beetled together when he saw her expression. “What is it?” he demanded.

  Heat prickled her scalp and she looked away, deeply embarrassed. “Nothing, it is nothing. I’m only grateful to be away from that place. I believe I shall enjoy the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in eighteen months.”

  AND NOW here they were, arrived at Hawthorne Hall, and for the first time Laura understood the scope of the sacrifice he’d made for her sake.

  “Marriage,” she murmured, “is not an easy thing to work free of. You said such kind things to Dr. Rutledge about me that I am not surprised he was taken in. You did not intend for it to go this far, did you?”

  “No, but it is done now and we will say no more about it.” He led the horse to the stables. Tanner first helped Laura down, and then dismounted. “We’ll rest here tonight and then plan what to do next in the morning. Do you think you can be content sleeping in a house that looks made for a family of trolls?”

  “I did not mean to offend you, Mr. Caine. I am sure the house suits your needs perfectly, though it would not do for me.”

  “It shall have to do for you, Mrs. Caine. We could be stuck together for some time.”

  She touched her hair and glanced away, feeling awkward and ill-at-ease with him. “What made you think of a secret engagement? Such a story would never have crossed my mind. It is too daring, and too wicked as well. We took vows before God!”

  Tanner Caine removed his hat and tucked it under his arm. He wore his wavy black hair loose, chin length, and scraped behind his ears. He turned to present his good side to her. Laura felt certain Mr. Caine frequently did so in the company of strangers, adjusting his position to hide his malformation from view.

  “You were in your slip, half-naked and alone with a man. A secret engagement was the lesser of two evils. As for the vows before God, this will not be the first time I’ve broken faith with the Almighty. If you are concerned about your soul, consider that you did it for a good cause and trust you will be forgiven.”

  He strode away to the house and Laura hurried after him. “Have you been married before?”

  Tanner grinned over his shoulder. “Why, yes, several times, in fact. The ladies cannot resist such a handsome, well bred man.” He threw back his head and laughed.

  “You are making fun of me.”

  “It was impossible to resist. I am twenty-nine-years-old and I have never been married. You are the first, and most assuredly the last, Mrs. Caine.”

  Tanner Caine turned his back on her and swung open the heavy front door that appeared to be made of ancient oak, all in one piece and fastened to the sill on great iron hinges, and then entered the hall like he was being chased by the hounds of hell.

  Laura marched in after him and then halted in the ancient entry way.

  As she had guessed, the diamond-paned windows were insufficient to penetrate the gloomy interior. The ceiling was low and criss-crossed with beams that were black with soot. A heavy wooden bench constructed of dark walnut ran along the wall below a row of sturdy pegs. The house was built as a hunting lodge, and by all appearances, had managed to resist refinement for over four hundred years.

  Laura closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. The vibrations were strong in Hawthorne Hall of past lives, but its present owner was in shadow.

&nb
sp; Her attempts to penetrate Tanner Caine’s thoughts were obstructed by a shadow that fell over his mind. Mr. Caine was not the cause of the shadow. It was something else. He stood in the shadow of this other thing ... an object or a person...?

  Laura ground her teeth and clenched her fists. She would have torn her hair in frustration for she could not make out what it was that held him in shadow.

  Her host had vanished, leaving her standing in the doorway. The forest and freedom beckoned. The birds were singing, the air was fresh and warming to summer. The roads would be dry. She could make good time if she left now. She could surely lose him in the brambles especially if he was on horseback. It would take Tanner Caine several minutes just to get his horse saddled again and he still hadn’t noticed she wasn’t behind him.

  What do you hesitate?

  TANNER MOVED to the back rooms of the house, feigning preoccupation, anything to put distance on her, if only for a few moments. He leaned his knuckles on the table and drew in a ragged breath. His neck was still damp from sweat. The ride had been a torture he did not wish ever to repeat.

  He had been well punished for his sin in the chapel, if sin it be, the moment she pressed her body against his. For two hours he’d had to endure, willing his mind to stop thinking about her in the maze wearing her thin slip. The touch of her skin, the sensation of her lips on his, how she felt in his arms. This one was not the same as the other women he had known. This one was so very different.

  She was a girl he lectured his soul in disgust. Breasts, legs, hips, cunt—just like every other female he’d ever fucked or seen naked. This one was prettier than most.

  It was not the first time he’d had to get rid of a woman. A generous sum of pound notes was usually enough to make the trouble go away. What was one to do with a girl like Laura Mayhew? She had no price, he could feel that instinctively. She had chosen being shut up in an asylum over the glitter of court.

  No, this girl was on a mission to find a phantom infant and ask uncomfortable questions in the process. He’d married her, and though that was a mistake, it did not have to be a fatal one. The charade did not change his orders or his plan. Consider it a temporary detour, a distraction on the way to his true purpose in bringing her to Hawthorne.

  Tanner straightened, scraped his hair back behind his ears. He cleared his throat and wiped his upper lip clean of her kiss. He’d allowed it to linger there too long. The ritual accomplished, Tanner was restored again to the man he knew himself to be.

  To the man he was comfortable being.

  He returned to the main hall to find the door standing open and the girl was gone.

  LAURA RAN hard in the direction of the forest. Her heart lifted, glad to be doing something at last to recover the child. If she’d waited for Tanner Caine’s help, he’d only have held her back and made her do as he thought best. He’d done what Loosey paid him to do—he’d got her out of Gateshead, which was the most important thing. She could handle it from here.

  She made for the densest part of the forest, green-black under brush too thick for a man on horseback to ride through. The brambles would conceal her. If she could find a safe hollow, she would spend the night and make her way back to the main road in the morning where she would catch a carriage to London.

  Chapter Six

  SHE WAS making good progress until the brambles thickened into twisted, jagged beasts that clawed at her dress and caught her ribbon, tearing it from her head. Her hair caught and entwined around sinewy, razor-sharp vine and was ripped from her scalp. She muffled a scream and twisted away to escape. Another thick limb caught her skirts in its sharp barbs, and in trying to free herself she found her arms were pinned. The barbs pierced the fabric to her skin. Panicked, Laura wrenched and tugged, trying to free herself from a prison that was like cut glass. Every attempt only made matters worse until terrified, she screamed for help until her throat was raw.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

  Tanner Caine’s deep harsh voice rang out behind her. Laura twisted to see his face. “I am not doing anything. Can’t you see? I am caught! Don’t just stand there—help me! I cannot free myself. The barbs hold me fast. Where did you come from? I did not hear you ride up.”

  She was out of breath and sweating. A trickle of blood ran down her cheek.

  “I came from the house looking for you. Why did you run off? I mean you no harm.”

  “I know. I know you are only trying to help. Please. I’m sorry. I’m bleeding. Help me out of here.”

  He did not lift his eyes. He would not look at her.

  Laura felt a cool shiver of death dance through her veins and she saw the shadow fall between them. She’d made it easy for him, she suddenly thought and steeled herself for the blow. The wrenching of her neck or his hand over her mouth and nose, smothering the life out of her. He wouldn’t use a knife or a pistol; her death would look like an accident.

  Tanner reached out—Laura flinched.

  Then he methodically released one barb after another until her skirts were freed, and then her arms, and finally her hair which took the longest as it was severely entangled.

  Her legs were shaking when she was at last delivered from the cruel thorns. Her flesh burned and bled from the sharp nicks inflicted. Her strength held up only briefly and then gave way. Laura collapsed against Tanner.

  He lifted her in his arms as if she had no weight at all and carried her from the forest.

  “I have to save the child,” she said weakly. “You would have done the same.”

  His face was stone but he held her close and beneath his shirt she could feel the beating of his heart. It was not from excitement of the chase, but something else was working inside him, something she could not understand.

  What did it matter? Why should she concern herself with this man? She could not heal him, even if she desired to do such a thing. She didn’t know anything about him.

  TANNER CAINE’S heart was hammering loudly as he carried her over the threshold. Laura Mayhew wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing her face under his chin and pressed her lips against his throat.

  His breathing changed. Caught, strangled, and released on a moan. “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose it is shock. I am grateful to you, sir. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.”

  He set her on her feet and stepped back, watching her. “Where were you going?”

  “To London. You must not take my running away personally. I have to find him.” Laura dabbed at the blood on her cheek. Her fingers came away crimson. “I was lady-in-waiting to Princess Louise and her dear friend. In July of 1866, she wrote me these words: I sit in my room and cry. I cannot write and tell you why, there are so many things ought not to be as they are … I am expected to agree with them and yet I cannot when I know thing to be wrong.”

  “Yes. And what does it mean?”

  “I wondered myself. I hurried to Windsor three months later when she would not reply to my letters. I found her very far along in pregnancy.” Laura met his eyes steadily. “She made few public appearances that winter and would not leave the carriage. She did not have a dresser. Her taste in fashion changed to pleats and frills out of necessity. We hid her condition for as long as we could.”

  “You were unsuccessful.”

  “Babies will insist on being born. It was December. We named him Henry.”

  The girl was clearly exhausted and yet Tanner would not let her rest. “Who delivered him,” he demanded to know.

  “I did.” Laura turned away. Her eyes were sparkling with tears.

  “Princess Louise did not tell us this.” He cleared his throat. Emotion was getting the better of him. “She did not go into detail as to the reasons for your commitment.”

  “That is hardly surprising. When they found us out, I was declared to be of unsound mind. Baby Henry was taken from his mother’s arms and sent away and Louise was forced to attend the opening of Parliament in February. Sh
e wore white satin. It was as though his birth had never happened.”

  “If your friend was content to resume her duties and conceal the facts of her son’s birth, then why weren’t you?”

  “That is my only part in this scandal I regret. The rumours about the pregnancy did not surface at court until a year later and that was down to me. But by then I had been committed to Gateshead and Louise was left to battle the dragon alone.”

  Tanner stiffened at the insult. “A mother protecting her children is not a dragon.”

  “Perhaps not,” Laura answered listlessly. She was pale save for the trickle of blood running down her cheek like a tear. “There was no one to protect Henry. I think of him constantly ... constantly....”

  He drew nearer to her. “Does he mean that much to you? He is not your child, is he?”

  She lifted her eyes, aghast. “He is not my child, but he is a child! An innocent baby who has no wish for power or rank, but only longs for his mother’s arms—yes, he means a good deal to me. For his own dear little self. I will find him. I must—!”

  Her strength gave out. She collapsed in his arms and he carried her to the front parlour.

  LAURA WAS too overcome with fatigue and hunger to resist. She lay quietly in his arms and allowed him to carry her into an adjoining room. Tanner set her down on a lounge near the window and drew a shawl over her. They were in a snug drawing room that faced the front of the house. The windows were pretty but inadequate for light. Once her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Laura discovered the room had a large hearth, two walls lined with books and comfortable furnishings.

  Her host’s eyes were dark and hooded, his expression stern. “You are risking your very life and liberty for this cause.”

  “As I daresay you have risked yours for what you believe in. I am made of the same stuff as you are; I have taken an oath of loyalty and I must honour it, the same as you. Is that so hard to believe?”

  “I confess it is. You have the face of an angel; it was easy to be persuaded you had the soul to match. But this story—if the Princess Louise will not admit to it, then what value is this oath of loyalty you’ve made? Who does it serve but your own vanity?”