by Stella Riley
The crawling fear that she had been fighting to deny since he had first arrived blazed into new life and she rose from her stool saying quickly, ‘Why are you doing this? Why me?’
‘You’re afraid of me.’
For a moment, she thought it a mere statement of fact. Then, sickeningly, she realised that it was an answer.
‘And that pleases you?’
He smiled obliquely.
‘I like small helpless things. You are afraid, aren’t you? You’re trying to hide it from me – but you mustn’t do that. I don’t like it.’
Abigail shivered. ‘You’re mad.’
He was beside her in two strides, his eyes suddenly opaque and one hand grasping hers so that her thumb was twisted painfully across her palm.
‘Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.’
The pressure of his grip was still increasing and she gasped.
‘No. I’m sorry. Please – you’re hurting me.’
He continued to crush her hand for a moment and then, looking down, slowly released it.
‘You’ve so much to learn,’ he said fretfully. ‘And there’s so much harm to be undone. But it will all come right once I get you away to Bodicote … and if your lover comes sniffing round you there, I’ll break his neck.’
‘He won’t come,’ she said unevenly. ‘That’s all over now.’
‘And you’ve forgotten him?’ One great hand came to rest against her neck. ‘I hope you’ve forgotten him, Abigail. It wouldn’t please me if I thought you hadn’t. And it’s better if you try to please me – much, much better – because, if you don’t, I’ll have to hurt you and that will be your fault. So you are going to try, aren’t you?’
His other hand was searching out the curves of her waist and hip. Abigail felt the stirrings of nausea and tried to free herself.
‘Be still!’ His fingers stretched, then clamped themselves about her neck while his other hand slid down, and rammed against her skirt until it was between her legs.
‘Don’t!’ begged Abigail, no longer just sick but terrified. ‘Please don’t.’
‘You’ll have to learn not to say no to me. Not ever. A wife must submit to her husband … in every way. So you’ll learn to like what I do to you when we’re alone. You’ll tell me that you like it. And you’ll learn to do the things that I like.’ His hand was still groping at her and he whispered, ‘Shall I tell you about some of them?’
Frozen in the black swirling waters of fear and revulsion, Abigail was beyond speech or movement or even constructive thought. She could only hear the coarse, ugly words describing things that she scarcely understood but recognised, dimly, as vile and humiliating; she saw the heavy, glistening face that had begun to waver oddly before her eyes and she felt the hard, intrusive hand that pinched and squeezed it’s way about her body until she could stand it no longer and began to retch.
A tremor passed through Barnes’ muscular frame and his fingers shifted to close convulsively on her thigh. Then, with slow reluctance, he released her and Abigail, her hands pressed over her mouth, fled unsteadily to the kitchen.
She was still there, heaving helplessly over the sink, when Samuel came in. For a moment he stopped short, staring, then he crossed the floor to take her shoulders in a firm grasp.
‘Abby? What is it? You look terrible.’
She drew a long, shuddering breath. ‘Has he gone?’
‘Barnes? Yes.’ He stiffened. ‘Why? What did he do to you?’
‘I c-can’t … I can’t talk about it.’
‘Don’t be stupid. If he’s responsible for this, you’ve got to.’
‘I can’t!’ She broke away from him to sit huddled and shaking in a corner of the settle. Her face was ashen and the dark eyes were full of lingering horror. ‘And if I d-did, you wouldn’t believe me.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ He sat purposefully at her side. ‘Did he touch you?’
‘Yes.’ She laced her fingers tightly together. ‘It was horrible. But not as bad as – as the things he said.’
‘What things?’ And when she did not answer, ‘What things, Abby? Accusations? Threats? Look, if you don’t want to repeat what he actually said, at least give me some idea of what it was about.’
‘Lessons,’ said Abigail, bending her head over her hands. ‘Lessons I must learn in order to please him. Not just fear and humility. Things he says I must do in the – in the bedroom. Things he l-likes. He explained them to me in detail.’
Comprehension dawned, bringing disgust in its wake.
‘Perversions?’
‘I don’t know. I only know that I could never …’ She stopped. ‘I just can’t.’
‘No. He’s mad, of course?’
‘And dangerous because he half suspects it.’
‘Then you can’t possibly marry him. Jonas will have to … or no. That’s pointless. He’d never believe that the man could be a lunatic – let alone a perverted lunatic. It’ll have to be Justin Ambrose.’
Her head jerked up. ‘No. I won’t have it.’
‘You haven’t any choice. He’s the only one in a position to do anything.’
‘I don’t care.’ Her mouth quivered. ‘Barnes threatened to break his neck.’
‘So?’ Samuel lifted one irritable brow. ‘The Captain’s not exactly frail, is he? I think you can trust him to take care of himself. He’s had plenty of practice, after all.’
There was silence and then Abigail finally put into words the only real difference that had ever divided them.
‘You don’t like him.’
Samuel sighed.
‘Actually, I do. But I’ll never agree with him politically and, more importantly, I disapprove very strongly of the changes he brought about in you. You’re neither fish nor fowl any more and he’s to blame for it.’ He came to his feet and looked sombrely down at her. ‘But that’s beside the point now. If he can help, I’ll be grateful. I only hope he’s back and not still careering about the country with the Wizard Prince.’
*
On the following day, Samuel paid what was to be the first of numerous visits to the Castle and came back depressed. No, said Ned Frost, Justin was not back; no, he had not sent any message; and no, they hadn’t the faintest idea of his present whereabouts.
‘He may still be with Rupert,’ came the unhelpful conclusion, ‘or he may have stayed on in Newark.’
Samuel frowned. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘Oh – personal matters,’ said Ned, airily evasive. ‘You know.’
Samuel did not know. Nor did he know quite what he was going to do about Abby if the Captain did not reappear in time.
As November slid by bringing the first flurries of snow and no sign of the errant Cavalier, Abigail grew thinner with every passing day and Samuel felt the weight of his anxiety pressing down like a medieval torture.
December arrived but Captain Ambrose did not. The wintry sky was heavy with the threat of impassable roads. For the first time, Samuel began to understand the meaning of panic. Then, on the fourth day of the month, just as the snow started to fall in earnest, he met his quarry face to face in Parson’s Lane.
It was so completely unexpected that the shock of it stopped his breath. Then he said furiously, ‘And where the hell have you been till now?’
‘Woodstock.’ One dark brow rose in amused surprise. ‘I got back last night and Ned said that you wanted to see me. But I must confess that I hadn’t expected it to be urgent enough to make you curse.’
‘Don’t be flippant,’ snapped Samuel. ‘It’s urgent enough to make me do more than swear. Where can we talk?’
Justin grinned and gestured to the Reindeer tavern. ‘In there?’
And was amazed when Samuel merely nodded and limped ahead of him through the gates.
It was market day and too early for custom. The elegant Globe Room where Justin had met Rupert the previous spring was deserted and, stalking into it without a glance for its splendour, Samuel declined Justin’s of
fer of refreshment and came immediately to the point.
‘Jonas knows about you and Abby. And naturally, he’s convinced that you’ve been lying with her.’
‘Naturally?’
‘Well, of course. With your reputation and his little mind, what else would he think? He regards Abby as a whore and a blot on his respectability. And if that comes as a surprise to you, I can only assume it’s because you’ve been too busy to consider the matter.’
‘Don’t mince words, Sam.’ Eyes and voice were equally enigmatic. ‘Say what you mean.’
‘I intend to. You’re selfish and arrogant and uncaring. And you’ve probably never once stopped to wonder what Abby would go through if Jonas ever found out about your little meetings.’
‘And what, precisely, is she going through?’
‘Torment. She’s not been out of the house for eight weeks except to go to church. Rachel makes clever little remarks and watches her like a hawk. And Jonas prays over her with a look in his eye that suggests he’d prefer to do as he did that first day and resort to violence.’
For a moment there was silence. Then, his face suddenly not expressionless at all, Justin said, ‘Are you saying that he punished her … physically?’
‘You’ve no idea, have you?’ Samuel laughed harshly. ‘He took his belt to her – and for far longer than he should have done. The bruises didn’t fade for a month. And he could do it again, if he chose to. He has an absolute right to do what he likes with her and he’s using it. She’s contracted to marry Thankful Barnes ten days from now.’
A knife twisted in Justin’s stomach and he turned abruptly away to the ornately carved fireplace. Beside him stood the great globe which gave the room its name. He spun it, watching the world whizzing past beneath his fingers and was distantly surprised at how sick and angry he felt.
‘Did you hear what I said?’ demanded Samuel.
‘Yes. I heard.’
‘But you’re not terribly interested. I see.’ Samuel stared explosively at the broad, buff-covered shoulders. ‘The man is a perverted lunatic and you couldn’t care less.’
One scarred palm came down hard and flat on the smooth surface of the globe.
‘What did you say?’
‘Why? It doesn’t concern you, does it?’
Justin swept round, white with anger.
‘Stop trying to be clever. How the devil can you know about Barnes’ personal habits?’
‘I don’t – but Abby does. He apparently described them to her in glorious detail. Services he’d require in the bedroom. I don’t know exactly what he said because she couldn’t bring herself to repeat it. At a guess, whore’s tricks – or worse. You’d know better than me. What I do know is that, as soon as he’d gone, I found her heaving her guts up in the kitchen.’ Samuel paused and then added bitterly, ‘That was a month ago. Since then she’s hardly slept or eaten and I’m at my wit’s end. You, of course, weren’t bloody here.’
‘All right.’ Justin drew a long, painful breath. ‘Let’s take the arraignment as read, shall we? You think it’s all my fault and I agree with you. Now – what do you want me to do?’
‘Help her. How is up to you. Just do something to prevent this farce of a marriage. You owe her that much at least.’
The grey eyes kindled dangerously.
‘What kind of bastard do you take me for, damn it? This isn’t a question of trade – and, if you think I need to be bludgeoned into getting Abby out of this mess, you must be as blind as your sodding brother! Of course, I’ll help. And I give you my word that she’ll never marry Barnes. Satisfied?’
‘Yes.’ Samuel coloured a little. ‘I’m sorry. What will you do?’
‘I haven’t the remotest idea – yet. When did you say the wedding is fixed for?’
‘A week on Sunday.’
Justin nodded coolly.
‘Very well. I’ll deal with it – somehow. All you need do is stop her worrying and get her to eat properly. Can you do that?’
Feeling as though an immense burden had been lifted from his shoulders, Samuel nodded.
‘I’ll try. And - thank you.’
‘Don’t mention it. There’s just one more thing. I assume that someone told Jonas about Abby’s friendship with me. Do you know who it was?’
‘Yes. It was Bab Atkins – though I can’t for the life of me see why she’d be so spiteful.’
A slow, disquieting smile touched the hard mouth.
‘I can,’ said Justin gently. ‘And I’ll remember it.’
~ * ~
TWENTY-ONE
In the long hours of a sleepless night, Justin examined the problem of Abigail’s future from every conceivable angle and discovered how restricted were his options. Any sort of appeal to Jonas was plainly useless - even supposing he could control his temper long enough to make it - and would probably only succeed in making the situation worse. Barnes was an easier target. It should, for example, prove a relatively simple matter to have him arrested on some pretext or other; but the man couldn’t be locked up indefinitely without good cause and a temporary solution was no solution at all.
Coolly, he reviewed the various ways in which Barnes might be persuaded to change his mind and then rejected them. With a sane man, certain subterfuges might be made to work – but Barnes wasn’t sane. In any case, such ploys were tortuous and time consuming. The only permanent answer would be to kill him … but even that was not fool-proof since there was no saying which cripple from the gutter Jonas Radford might choose as a replacement.
Justin walked to the window and gazed, without appreciation, at the gleaming, magical whiteness outside. It was still snowing steadily. Even if he had money or knew of some trustworthy household in Oxford to which he could send her, it was already too late. By tomorrow the roads would be virtually impassable and could remain so for weeks. He might, he thought, be able to get her as far as Thorne Ash where the Maxwells would probably agree to take her in; but if their servants talked and Jonas found out she was there, he’d drag her back to Banbury and the whole thing would have been for nothing.
‘Damn it to hell!’ muttered Justin, prowling restlessly back to his stool by the fire. ‘There has to be a way. She can’t marry Barnes and I can’t leave her with bloody Jonas either. But the only place I can bring her is here – and, if I do that, she won’t have a shred of reputation left to her. So what else is left?’
There was, he realised, more than a measure of guilt in his feelings but that worried him less than the other forces that were driving him; a compulsion to protect – which, though by no means new, was suddenly intensified; a crude desire to beat Jonas Radford into pulp; and the discovery that the thought of Abby being frightened or hurt was unbearable to him. None of it accorded with what he had thought of as his mild, undemanding affection for her and the knowledge was profoundly disturbing. Strong emotions had no place in his life. He could not afford them and neither did he want them. Yet here he was, utterly committed to God knew what extremes for the sake of a girl he had not even bedded – nor ever would.
‘I ought to be put away,’ he sighed, running light, rhythmic fingers over one of Rex’s long ears. ‘And if I end up having to put a bullet through Thankful Barnes, I probably will be.’
*
It snowed almost continuously for two days and then it froze. By the following Wednesday, inactivity was beginning to make the men fractious and so Justin organised snow-shifting details to clear the Market Place whilst simultaneously working off some of his own frustrations. Then Hugh Vaughan bore him off to the Reindeer for a noon-day quart of spiced ale and he was granted a far more satisfying means of appeasing his temper.
From the window of the cake shop, Barbara Atkins watched them enter the tavern and made a quick, bold decision. She was wearing her velvet cloak with the fur-trimmed hood over a new sapphire-coloured gown and she knew she was looking her best. So she smiled brightly at her friend Mary and, over-riding the girl’s horrified protests, swept her acros
s the road and into the forbidden precincts of the inn.
Justin watched her trip blithely into the room and was filled with pleasant anticipation.
‘Oh!’ Bab gave a start of well-feigned surprise. ‘I hadn’t expected to see you here, Captain Ambrose. We thought this room was empty, didn’t we, Mary?’
Mary turned scarlet and muttered something indistinguishable.
Justin strolled towards them, smiling blandly.
‘Then this must be my lucky day – because you are the very girl I most wished to see.’
She eyed him speculatively from beneath her lashes.
‘Oh? You surprise me.’
‘I’m sure I do,’ he agreed cordially. ‘You look extremely charming today. A new gown, surely?’
‘Yes. Do you like it?’
‘It’s perfect.’ The pale eyes gleamed with sudden, icy contempt and, raising his arm, Justin emptied the contents of his ale cup liberally over her head.
Bab choked, Mary screamed and Hugh Vaughan shot towards them with an astounded, ‘Bloody hell!’
‘Keep out of it, Hugh,’ warned Justin coldly. And then, to Bab who was spitting with rage amidst dripping hair and stickily stained velvet, ‘That was for telling nasty tales to Jonas Radford. You should have taken your spite out on me instead.’
‘I hope Thankful Barnes kills her!’ howled Bab. ‘Look at my fur – you’ve ruined it!’
‘Be grateful for small mercies,’ he replied. And walked out of the room and away into the snow.
He had nearly reached Cornhill when Captain Vaughan caught up with him and said, ‘What the devil was all that about?’
‘Don’t ask. It’s a long story.’
Hugh surveyed him thoughtfully, a gleam of humour appearing in his face.
‘What an eventful life you lead. I sometimes wonder if I’m not missing something.’
Justin grinned wryly.
‘Take my word that you’re not. And I can assure you that I don’t collect complications from choice.’