by Becky Lower
Simon and her mother came into her line of vision as she and Halwyn took their places at the dinner table. Simon’s gaze flickered over her, and her skin erupted in goosebumps. His eyes flashed hatred at her. If she had been faltering in her efforts to gain control of the trust, he reminded her with just a glance why she had set this course of action.
She’d get through this dinner, and the ceremony. And then the countdown would commence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It was her wedding day. Grace approached it with equal measures of gratitude, anxiety, and trepidation. She glanced in the cheval mirror while Jasmine and Colleen fussed over her wedding gown. This was the day. And this was her wedding dress. Tears formed, and she blinked quickly to keep them at bay.
“Aye, lass. If anyone deserves to have teary eyes, it’d be yourself,” Colleen whispered to her. “Every bride cries on her wedding day.”
Grace said nothing. Best to let Colleen think she was overcome with joy. A show of anxiety at this point would not be good. She smiled instead.
Jasmine stood up from her crouching position at the hemline of the dress. “Yes, I pronounce the dress finished and you’re ready for your big day. Shall we be off?”
Grace exited the manor house and held Jasmine’s hand as she walked toward the waiting carriage. “Thank you, Jasmine, for creating such a lovely gown for me.”
“You’re a beautiful bride. Halwyn is a lucky man.”
When Grace arrived at the carriage, she gulped and then took a deep breath. Simon was waiting to assist her into the carriage, where her mother already waited. The Fitzpatricks’ faithful driver, Robert, would drive the horses and carriage to the church, several miles away. She attributed the pit in her stomach to the marriage she was going to agree to within the hour. She studied Simon’s face as he helped her up the steps and into the carriage. He avoided her direct eye contact. The pit in her stomach grew into a yawning chasm. She choked back the fear Simon’s mere presence gave her.
“Mother,” she greeted the woman. Sophie glanced up from her lap, where she had been studying her small reticule, embellished with hundreds of crystal beads of the same color as her gown.
“Daughter,” she replied with a nod of her head.
Grace tried to smile. “Glad we got that sorted out, anyway.”
Sophie straightened as the carriage lurched under Simon’s weight as he entered and sat next to her. Sophie turned her eyes to her daughter. “No sass, Grace. I won’t tolerate it. Not today of all days. I haven’t seen you much at all over these past weeks, since you’ve been hiding out at the Fitzpatrick house, doing God knows what with your intended. It’s appropriate to remind you who your mother really is. And it’s not Charlotte Fitzpatrick.”
“I’m well aware of who my mother is. Believe me, you’ve been uppermost in my mind.”
Sophie smoothed out the skirt of her new pastel blue gown, which had also been created by Jasmine. She straightened out the rows of lace dripping from the elbow-length sleeves, and tried to redirect the conversation. “Simon, don’t you think our Grace is lovely today?”
Grace gritted her teeth as Simon’s gazed raked over her. “I will never be ‘his’ Grace, Mother.”
Simon’s eyes locked on hers. “That is something we both agree on, Grace. I may call you my daughter in public, but in my mind, you will never be mine. Remember that for the future.”
The carriage pulled away from the house and began its dusty journey to Hempstead and the church. This trip was going to be endless, despite the fact it was only several miles in length. Grace set her jaw and stared at Simon for several moments. He was anxious. Or nervous. She’d had a bad feeling ever since he helped her into the carriage. What was he planning at this late hour? Surely they’d arrive at the church on time and in good condition. After all, it was only a few miles. But she’d breathe a whole lot easier when they rolled up in front of the church. In this carriage, she was a virtual prisoner.
Both she and her mother jumped when Simon suddenly stood and banged on the ceiling of the carriage. “Stop! Stop the carriage! My daughter’s about to be ill! Hurry and open the door!”
Grace and her mother exchanged worried glances as the carriage slowed and came to a halt. It was a trick, but she didn’t have a clue what Simon was thinking. And without any clues, she had no way to counter his moves.
He pulled a gun out from his waistcoat as the door to the carriage opened.
The chasm in Grace’s stomach became an abyss and she let out a scream to warn Robert.
Simon lurched out the door of the carriage and Grace followed.
“What are you doing, you crazy man?”
She tried to grab Simon’s arm, but the tension of the moment, and his desperation, gave him superhuman strength and he wrenched his arm free. He brandished the gun over his head before he trained the firearm on Robert, who was pointing a gun back at Simon. At the same time, he grabbed Grace, wrapping his arm around her neck and hauling her in front of him.
“I am doing what I have to in order to get the fortune that is rightfully mine.” His hot breath scorched the side of her face. “You thought you were such a clever girl, coming up with your scheme and involving Halwyn, but I’m smarter than the both of you.” He turned to Robert. “Drop your gun, man. You don’t want to hurt ‘the bride,’ do you?”
Robert put his hands over his head, dropping his gun when Grace became Simon’s shield.
Grace could smell Simon’s desperation in the form of nervous sweat. As he held her up against himself, her back dampened in his tight grip. Despite the heat of his breath on her face, she shivered in his grasp. He turned his attention to the driver.
“Since when does a Fitzpatrick employee carry a weapon?”
Robert gulped noticeably. “I was given instructions I was not to let you do anything to delay the carriage. And that meant carrying a gun.”
“Even though you are armed, it seems as though you’ve been bested. Move away, man. I’m taking over from here.”
Robert lowered his hands and leaned over, pulling a knife from his boot. He began to advance on Simon, the knife pointed at him. “Over my dead body.”
Simon released his chokehold on Grace, but kept his hand on her arm. “As you wish, man.” He squeezed the trigger, and the roar of the gun at close range made Grace cover her ears and close her eyes as she screamed again.
Robert cried out once, and Grace pulled her arm free from Simon’s grasp. She ran to the fallen driver as he crumpled to the ground. He was bleeding profusely from his leg. Grace turned to Simon.
“My God, what have you done?”
“I’m not about to kill the man, despite his taunt. I merely made it impossible for him to run for help. Hurry on, get back in the carriage. I’m in charge now.”
Grace knelt beside the fallen man. A pool of blood was collecting beside him, and the train of Grace’s wedding gown trailed into the red, wet puddle. Her gaze whipped back to Simon. “I at least need to place a tourniquet on his wounds, so he won’t bleed out. Otherwise, I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I wouldn’t advise you attempting to exercise control here, Grace. After all, I’m the one with the gun. I don’t want your mother to hate me completely, but I’ll do what I have to, Grace.” He trained the gun on her and her skin developed goosebumps. She stared, fascinated, at the end of the gun barrel. “You are no longer in a position to make demands. Now is the time to listen to your elders. To your mother. Sophie, tell your stubborn daughter what she should do.”
Sophie’s tears fell as she surveyed the carnage from the window. “My God, Grace, get back in the carriage. I have no doubt he’ll kill you if you don’t.”
Grace’s gaze pinged back and forth from Simon to her mother, then to Robert, who was lying unconscious in the middle of the road. “You’re just going to leave him here? Alone? To die? Even you, Simon, aren’t that cold.”
Simon laughed again. “Wrong again, dear Grace. Come along. Time is of the
essence. Into the carriage with you.”
• • •
Halwyn paced back and forth in the small waiting room off the main annex in the church. The annex was filling up with people, despite his and Grace’s desire to keep this a small affair. People had invited themselves to the “marriage of the summer,” and the ceremony had been opened to all, rather than risk offending someone. The guest list had grown over the past few weeks to an overwhelming number, and Halwyn was no different from any other groom. He wanted all the fuss to be over with, so he and Grace could finally be alone again with each other.
He took a long drag on his cheroot as he paced. In order for the marriage to take place, one needed both a groom and a bride, and Grace was not yet at the church. She should have arrived a half-hour ago, right after his mother and father’s carriage. Could she have changed her mind? Begged Simon to take her elsewhere so she wouldn’t have to face a marriage to him? Was he so repugnant that she’d stand him up at the altar, to face the embarrassment of telling the stuffed annex of people they had assembled for naught? No. His stomach became a knot of worry. She might well have second thoughts about marriage to a man she had no love for, but Grace was not a cruel woman. Nor was she a coward. If she decided not to go through with their arrangement, she would meet him head-on and explain her reasons. Something must have happened to her. Fear overtook aggravation and he sought out his father.
“Grace is late. I think something’s happened. I wouldn’t put it past Simon to stage a broken axle in order to delay or prevent this wedding from taking place. Perhaps we should ride out and see what’s keeping the carriage from arriving.”
“Well, you can’t leave. What would our guests say if the groom left his own wedding? No, you stay here. We placed Robert in charge of getting our bride to the church, so I’m certain nothing could possibly be wrong with the carriage. And I gave him a firearm to use should Simon attempt anything suspicious. But I’ll send Parr and Alistair out to see what they can find. And I’ll tell our guests there’s been a slight delay.”
“This does not bode well for us, I fear.”
“Don’t lose heart, son. It’s just a slight delay on your life’s road. Parr will take care of things. Take a seat and settle down.”
Halwyn sat and finished off his cigar. As he ground out the remains into the ashtray, his heel tapped the floor repeatedly. Unable to take the inactivity any longer, he rose once more and resumed pacing. He glanced up as his father reentered the room, scowling.
“What is it?”
“Charles Gray came up to me after I made my announcement and said Simon was gone from the premises for a large part of yesterday afternoon. When Charles asked him of his whereabouts, he simply replied ‘You’ll see soon enough.’ Charles thought perhaps Simon was scouting out a home for himself and Sophie here in the Hamptons, but now he’s wondering if it was something more.”
“Such as?”
“That’s what has me worried. I don’t know, but considering the circumstances of your wedding, I would put nothing past him at this point. The man is desperate.”
A clatter of hoofbeats sounded outside the church, as a horse galloped to the door of the building.
Halwyn stood, and swayed on his feet. His stomach churned and he was filled with a sense of foreboding. There would be no marriage here today, he was certain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Grace winced as the carriage bounced and careened, jostling her and her mother within its confines. She held onto a strap to keep from falling onto the floor.
“Where is Simon taking us?” she yelled at her mother.
Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know. Simon’s become a madman of late. I’m so sorry, Grace, for ever bringing him into our lives.”
Grace stared at her mother. “Now? You finally admit Simon was the worst choice you could make now? All these months, I’ve been waiting for you to stand up to him and you’ve done nothing. So now when our very lives are in the hands of this crazy person, you admit you’ve made a bad choice?”
“I’m sorry, Grace. For everything. I made a foolish mistake, and I was aware of my stupidity almost immediately, but I didn’t know what to do about it then. You don’t know how many nights I prayed I could just go back in time to right after your father died. I would have done things so differently … ”
“And now?”
Sophie’s eyes darted around the carriage. “Now I fear it may be too late. He shot and probably killed the driver. I’ve no doubt he’s capable of killing us both. I don’t care if he kills me, but this was none of your doing.”
Grace glanced at her mother. Despite her horrible choice in a second husband, she had chosen well the first time, with Grace’s father. Her second choice was made in haste and in the fear of the unknown. Grace took pity on her.
“If we stick together, Mother, we’ll figure out a way to best him. I’ll hear no talk of you sacrificing yourself for me. Because I’m certain he would not stop with merely getting rid of you. I’m his biggest stumbling block, because of the wording of the trust. He would have to do away with me. And we won’t let that happen. Right, Mother?”
Grace held her breath while her mother’s gaze ricocheted from one window to the next, searching for a way out of this dilemma. She finally locked eyes with her daughter.
“You’re right, Grace. I’m sure our two heads are better than his mad one. We’ll figure out a way past him.”
A long breath escaped Grace as her mother’s voice, the mother she used to have, emerged. Everything would be all right now—if they could get away from Simon.
She stared out the window for a moment. The vegetation outside was zipping by at a rapid pace as the vehicle hurled headlong into their private hell. She caught a whiff of pine mingled in with the dust being created from the carriage wheels. The combination of the rapidly changing view and the overwhelming scent made Grace dizzy, so she returned her gaze to her mother.
“Do you have any idea where we’re headed? Certainly, we’re not going back into the city this way. It seems as if we’re going further into the woods.”
Grace’s mother cast a frantic gaze around the carriage as she pondered the question. Then she slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Oh, my God. I should have guessed he was planning something.” She glanced at her daughter. “Simon was absent a lot in the past week. When I asked what he was doing, he said he thought we should start investigating summer homes for ourselves, and he was beginning to search for us. I never questioned what he was planning to use to pay for another house, I was just grateful he was gone and I was left alone for awhile.”
“So, instead of him attempting to find a home for you, he was scouting out a hideaway for this abduction caper of his?”
“It does seem to make sense now, doesn’t it?”
“But where in the world could he be taking us?”
The carriage suddenly slowed to a jerky halt. The springs of the carriage lurched once more as Simon jumped down from the top.
Sophie took her daughter’s hand. “It seems we’re about to find out.”
Simon opened the door and stuck his head inside the carriage.
“Ladies, we are here. Welcome to your home for the next week.”
As soon as Grace and Sophie exited the carriage, Grace noticed the gun still in Simon’s hand. She and her mother could not take off running through the forest without at least one being shot. They held hands and glanced at the structure Simon had stopped in front of. The small hunter’s cabin was a crude structure, made from logs. There was a small front porch on it, and a few windows. It was built for shelter, not for comfort, and Grace’s stomach roiled as Simon motioned with the barrel of the gun to move inside.
Once inside the door of the cabin, Simon took rope from a box and tied both women to the small bed, which was the only furnishing in the room, other than a chair. Once both were bound, Simon wiped his brow and stood tall.
“You’re trussed up nicely now
. I need to dispose of the carriage and the horses. Make it appear to have been an accident … ”
His eyes gleamed wildly and sweat poured from his body. Grace was taking a risk, but she had to ask. She took a deep breath. “How can you possibly plan to keep us here for a week? We’ll starve to death by then.”
Simon laughed. “And that will never do, will it?” He ran the barrel of the gun down her cheek, and she recoiled at the cold steel. “No, I will keep you two fed. I want you to be healthy when I take the both of you to the bank in a week, when your twenty-first birthday has come and gone, and demand your father’s trust be turned over to me. You should have known better than to try to best me. Do you really believe the wording of your trust was altered by accident?”
Grace pierced Simon with a stare. “What are you saying?”
Simon strutted back and forth in front of his audience. “I was working in the law office when your father came in to set his will to rights. He was aware he was dying, and wanted to get things in order for you, Grace. Only a large dowry would entice someone to marry such a headstrong young woman as yourself, and he was confident the trust he was going to give you would do the trick.”
Grace was no longer frightened of this mad man. She was angry. “And you altered the wording?”
Simon turned on his heel and crouched before the women. “Not immediately, but I did have an idea. I went to your home and stood outside, opposite the house, until you and your mother left. My first idea was to pursue you before any other man got wind of your substantial fortune. But then your mother emerged from the house, and I changed my mind.”
He reached out a hand and ran it down Sophie’s face, lifting her chin so he could kiss her. She tried to turn away, but he held her fast.
“So, you see, my heart was smitten by your mother even before your father died. I needed to find a way to wrestle your fortune from you and marry your mother. I couldn’t alter the recipient of the trust, since that would have been noticed, but if I altered a few crucial words in the document, I hoped no one would notice. Your father was too sick to pay close attention, and the bank, and your beloved Halwyn, didn’t seem to find the wording unusual.”