An Unwilling Baroness

by Harris Channing

"Aye," he agreed, breathlessly. "But those bastards are gone with a little bit of my lead in their arses."

  She fought the discomfort of the hard ground against her back and turned her head in a frantic search for her horse. Panic struck at her heart. "But Sebastian…where is he?"

  "He's what they wanted," he said, continuing to stroke her face with a tenderness she'd never experienced at anyone's hand before. "And, of course, your purse."

  "No," she sobbed, struggling to sit up. "Please Jude. He can't be gone."

  "Be still," he whispered. "It's all right, what's important is right here. You're safe, my darling. That's all that matters."

  "He was my mother's horse. Please Jude, we have to get him back."

  "And we will. But you, I have to see you cared for above anyone else."

  The affection in his voice soothed her and she reached up with trembling fingers to touch his warm cheek. "Anyone?" she asked, feeling the darkness once again envelope her senses.

  He placed a small kiss on her cheek. "Anyone."

  "But Belle?"

  "She never really mattered anyway. Please, don't worry about anything. I love you, Chloe. I always have."

  His admission had her fighting for consciousness. She had so many questions. Why had he been so cruel if he loved her? Why had he brought Belle to Pembridge if he loved her? None of it made any sense.

  "Always?" she asked.

  "Yes. I never stopped."

  "Then why have you been so distant." My but her head hurt.

  "I'm sorry sweet," he leaned in, his breath hot against her skin. "I wanted to garner your attention. I wanted to force your passions to the surface. I needed to know how you felt about me."

  Tears slid across her temple. "Oh, what fools we've been," she muttered. "I didn't want you to think all I wanted was your help." Her hands grew heavy and she clutched to the collar of his coat. "I have missed and longed for you, Jude."

  "But do you love me?" He leaned in ever closer, his mouth but inches from her.

  "Yes, Jude," she responded, a small smile touching her lips. "I love you with all of my heart."

  "Then marry me."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Chloe thought for sure she must have died and gone to heaven. She no longer felt much discomfort, and an angel singing at her side encompassed her in warmth and peace.

  "Have her make me a cambric shirt. Parsley, sage, rosemary…"

  "Girl, stop your caterwauling."

  Disappointment saturated her. She definitely wasn't in heaven, the grating, discordant, voice of her stepmother rang out loud and clear in her suddenly aching head. Oh God, maybe she’d gone to hell.

  "Yes Ma'am." Maggie’s familiar voice answered.

  All these years she considered the woman her dearest friend and she didn't know she sang so beautifully.

  "Is she awake? Has she stirred? Anything?" There was no concern in Dorothea's voice, just the same commanding, demeaning tone she always used. Her stomach clenched. Oh how she loathed that hideous creature, yet forced herself to remain still. She wouldn't allow her stepmother to realize she was awake. The old crone's face was not the first face she wanted to see.

  "No Ma'am, but when she does, I'll come and find ya."

  "Be sure that you do, girl."

  After the sound of her bedroom door opening and closing, Maggie sighed. "That woman, I'd like to toss her into the Thames."

  "Be sure to bind her hands and feet first," Chloe mumbled and slowly opened her eyes. Oh my, the light that filtered through the window momentarily blinded her. She blinked and longed to pull the pillow over her head, but couldn’t muster the strength.

  "Oh Miss!" Maggie gasped, throwing herself over Chloe, and wrapping her arms about her tightly. The pain filled embrace reminded her of all that had happened. And with a flash of lightning every bit of it came flooding back--the thwarted escape, her fall, the theft of Sebastian, Jude's confession. He loved her. He said as much and a small spark of joy flared in the depths of her misery. She gingerly pressed Maggie back, her bruised shoulder throbbing from the effort.

  "Can I get you anything, Miss?" Maggie asked, pushing the hair from Chloe's face in a motherly fashion. "Are you thirsty? Hungry?"

  "Jude. Can you bring him to me?" She looked at Maggie through bleary eyes and didn’t like at all what she saw. Concern flickered across her usually pleasant countenance.

  She shook her head and clawed at the collar of her blouse. "No, Miss, I can't. He's been gone nigh two days looking for the men that knocked ya off your horse. He said he wouldn't come back till he had Sebastian and their arses in a cell."

  Cloying panic threatened to choke her. Jude loved her and as much as she loved Sebastian, he wasn’t worth their future. What if he were hurt on his quest…hurt or worse? "He went alone?"

  "No Ma'am, your father went too. Said too much had happened to his girl and he had had enough."

  Surely she'd heard wrong. "What?"

  "Lord Pembridge, he went to aid the young master."

  Her father never did anything but complain about her shortcomings and ignore her protests, yet now he risked his safety for her? Unexpected joy gave lift to her heavy heart. "My-my father? He came to my defense?"

  "Yes," Maggie said, her eyes filling with tears that flowed freely down her round cheeks. "But the mistress, she's beside herself for wanting ya ta wake up. And the baron, afore he left for London said he still wanted to marry ya despite the fight with the young master."

  Dread had a lump filling her throat. Surely the baron knew his fight over another woman nullified their engagement. But no, she quickly realized, that would've been far too easy.

  "I was hoping never to see him again," Chloe mumbled.

  "I overheard him tell Lady Pembridge that he still wants ta wed ya but he believed that you wouldn't want ta. But the bitch herself said she'd every intention of seeing the two of ya wed."

  Chloe struggled to sit up. "I'll not marry him," she shouted but Maggie easily pressed her back into the pillows.

  "Rest Miss. No need pushing yourself too hard."

  "Maggie, you don't understand! Jude confessed he loves me. He's who I want."

  "He told his mum and that fancy lady of his as much afore he left. It makes no difference ta Lady Pembridge. Her heart is set on Von Richter."

  Chloe clutched Maggie’s worn hands. "What am I to do, dear friend? Tell me?"

  "I don't know, Lady Chloe."

  The words had barely left Maggie's lips when the door swung open and Dorothea swept into the room, her face a contorted mask of horrific anger. She descended on Maggie like a ravenous beast. Chloe struggled to sit up, her limbs protesting the sudden movement. "So you will tell me when she awakens, will you, girl?"

  "Aye Ma'am I was about to," Maggie sputtered. "She only just awoke this moment."

  Obviously undeterred by Maggie's confession, Dorothea drew back her arm, her hand landing heavily against the maid's cheek. The sound of bony fingers against pliable flesh rent the air. The anger that Chloe had held in check so long finally and fully bubbled over. How dare she take her frustrations out on Maggie! The woman had only ever been sweet and good.

  "Stop, you monster!" Chloe shrieked and without thought, launched her aching body toward the malicious witch. She collided into Dorothea, the pair falling backward and landing with a heavy thump upon the hardwood floor.

  The sudden exertion had Chloe's lungs begging for air and she scrambled to her feet, her legs wobbly beneath her. Holding on to the door jamb for support, she glared down at the woman.

  "What are you thinking? I think you may have broken something." Dorothea winced, her pale blue gown above her knees, exposing her wrinkled legs and worn slippers to the world. She was a pathetic sight, pitiable until her gaze traveled up to the woman's face. Her anger and loathing saturated every angle, every crease, and every bit of her countenance.

  "Don’t you lay a hand on her, do you understand me?" Chloe shouted, her lower jaw trembling with pent up emoti
on.

  Maggie offered Chloe an appreciative glance before helping Lady Dorothea to her feet. Dorothea moaned and leaned heavily against the maid. "I think I may need the surgeon."

  Turning her head, she glared back at her stepdaughter. "You will marry the baron and the sooner the better for you."

  Chloe stepped aside as the pair limped into the hallway, her heart hammering against her ribs. She would not marry the baron. Not when Jude loved her.

  "And don't you even think about running again." Dorothea pushed Maggie away with a vitality that belied her recent protests. With a flourish, the witch slammed the door. Before Chloe could reach for the knob, the lock clicked, trapping her in her room. Through the door she heard Dorothea's angry order to Maggie. "And you girl, get McCann from the stable. I want him sitting by this door. I'll not have her trying to get away."

  Aching and heartsick, Chloe slid down the wall and stared up at the ceiling. "Please Jude. Come back to me before it's too late."

  ***

  Chloe no longer yearned for food and hadn’t felt the agonizing pinch of hunger for two full days. With only water brought to her, she felt herself growing weaker and weaker. Where in the name of God had Jude gotten to? Had he truly said he loved her? Or was that just a sweet dream which haunted her during the long hours of solitude?

  Sitting on her ladder back chair, she stared out the window hoping for a sign. Examining and reexamining the road for some semblance of life beyond the birds and occasional deer. Anything or anyone that promised to aid her in a release. Any hope of Jude. Damn it, where was he?

  At the sound of her door unlocking, she stumbled to her feet wishing she'd enough energy to rush forward. Wishing her body didn't ache with each step. Wishing she'd controlled her temper one last time and kept herself from knocking the horror down. For the price of her rebellion, far exceeded what she could afford to pay.

  Weak as a newborn colt, she shuffled forward praying that Dorothea had decided to give her sustenance. Just the idea of a slice of freshly baked bread had her mouth watering.

  "Miss, do sit," Maggie said, coming into the room, a fresh pitcher of water in her hands. Dorothea stood in the doorway, watching the pair with eagle eyes. There would be no questions asked, no answers given.

  Maggie hurried toward the washstand her eyes red, her cheeks puffy from crying. Lifting the pitcher to fill the basin, her hands trembled nearly as much as Chloe’s.

  "Baron Von Richter has asked to see you. You will dress and prepare yourself for him, do you understand, Chloe?" Dorothea's voice was shrill, the sound raising the hackles on her neck.

  Despite her weakness, Chloe didn't look at her stepmother. She refused to meet her gaze, refused to acknowledge the woman. Dorothea was nothing to her but a freakish beast, more crazed monster than human.

  "And what if I tell the Baron what you’ve done to me?"

  Dorothea flew into the room, her hands poised to strike. The stinging slap on her cheek had Chloe's nerves protesting the assault, yet she held her tongue. She would not yield or cry out. There would be no reply from her lips. The woman could do her worst, all she had to do was hang on. Simply bide her time until Jude returned. Determination saturated her and on trembling legs, she stood her ground.

  As if reading her thoughts, Dorothea grabbed Chloe's face in a tight, punishing grip. Her fingers dug into the tender flesh, forcing her to face her. Still, Chloe kept her eyes averted.

  "If you're waiting for my son to save you, know he won't be back for a least a week. He's on a fool's errand searching for that horse. You will be either wed, or dead and buried before he sets another boot into Pembridge House." She released her hold and paced before her. "Perhaps Jude will pay for your resistance. I have no love for that heartless rascal. He would leave me penniless."

  Chloe finally met her stepmother's gaze. What she saw in the depths of the harpy’s eyes, had her heart thundering in her ears. Would the woman truly harm her own flesh and blood?

  "If you refuse to wed the baron, perhaps Jude will meet with some unfortunate accident."

  "How can you be so incredibly evil?" Chloe asked, clutching the collar of her gown. "He is your son. Could you bear having his blood on your hands?"

  "He ceased to be my son when he ran away, leaving me in dire straits. These past years have been a huge struggle to keep up appearances." She narrowed her gaze and stared at Chloe dispassionately. "Besides, his blood will be on your father's hands, for all Lord Pembridge needs is my order and my will shall be done."

  "My father is no murderer!" she shouted but even as she the words spilled from her lips, she realized she didn't know the man. After all, she'd actually believed he had gone with Jude in defense of her. He had not gone to save Sebastian or avenge her attack. He had gone at the bidding of his wife. The truth was like a dagger to her heart. Dorothea was all important and she, nothing but a pawn in their game. A game that could cost Jude his life. The small bit of determination she'd mustered, slid away leaving her cold.

  "Do you hear me? He will come to harm."

  "I hear you," Chloe said, wishing she'd enough strength to shout. But she was defeated. All hope seeped from her. Her choice was painfully clear.

  "The baron is coming to make amends."

  "Perhaps the baron needs to hear that you have kept me locked here against my will. That you threaten his friend."

  Dorothea chuckled. "You won't tell him anything. If you do, Maggie and May will pay for that particular bit of mutiny. They've nowhere to go if they are forced from here with no references. As far as future employers know, Maggie is a thief and May is a whore. They will starve to death, but not before the bastard child is born into squalor."

  "Bastard child?" Chloe asked, turning panicked eyes toward the maid.

  Maggie's mouth dropped open. "No Ma'am, punish me but not my sister. She don’t deserve anythin' else ta happen ta her."

  "Workhouse for you and your sister, I should say." Dorothea rubbed her aged chin thoughtfully. "Or would May prefer the whorehouse?"

  "It weren't like that," Maggie protested. "She loves him, Miss." Tears sped from her eyes and she looked to Chloe, her pain so strong she could feel it in her chilled heart. "She's with child, Lady Chloe." Maggie fell to her knees before her mistress and friend and grabbed tight to her hands. "Her soul is good and these things happen. Please, my sister's going ta have a babe…she's carrying your sister or brother."

  Chloe's hand flew to her mouth, hardly able to comprehend what she heard. Barely able to mumble the words. "My father?"

  "Aye Miss, he sired her unborn child. P-Please, help her," she begged between sobs. "The baron's a good man. He'll take you away from here." Maggie buried her face in Chloe's skirt. "He has fretted over you since learnin' happened. He cares for you my lady. Please, please save May. Asides you, she's the only family I got."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Chloe once again sat in the ladder back chair, this time facing the door of her bedroom. Dressed in her best gown, with her hair neatly pinned away from her face, she waited for Fredrick's arrival. The last time she saw him, his nose bled and his expression was one of pitiful remorse.

  Now, the sound of his voice outside her locked door had her stomach aching and not with want of food. She was nauseated, fatigued, shaking…was she dying? Instead of alarming her, the question offered a strange sort of calm. One way or another, her torture would be over. But to see Jude again, that was her one true desire.

  To see him and to know he was safe, that is what she lived for. That and to make certain Maggie and May were cared for…Maggie, May and her sibling.

  But how was she supposed to do that? How? Damn. Damn. Bloody damn. Her heart grew heavier still. Grief dragged at her. But more than that, Dorothea's victory gnawed at her core.

  The door swung open and Fredrick pushed his way in, the smile on his face quickly fading. "Chloe, my dear, are you still ill?"

  "Yes," Dorothea said, rushing into the room behind him, her eyes narrowed as she settl
ed a warning gaze upon Chloe. "The fall from the horse followed by a fever has truly weakened her."

  Chloe lifted her gaze and settled her attention on her stepmother, but didn't reply.

  Fredrick knelt before her. His face still bearing proof of his fight with Jude, blackened eyes and a swollen nose did little to turn him into the ugly beast she supposed him to be.

  He took her hands in his. "My dear, your fingers are as cold as ice. You ought to be in bed."

  "I can't very well receive you while in I’m abed, now can I?" she asked, her tone not nearly as cool as she'd have liked.

  His gaze caressed her face and she softened just a little. He was good, wasn't he? Did he know what her stepmother had planned, or was he as blind and trusting as she'd been before all this started? Her jaw trembled with emotion and he smoothed her cheek with his hand.

  "Your skin is chilled," he whispered and going to the bed, pulled off the blanket, bringing it toward her.

  "You spoil her," Dorothea cooed, aiding Fredrick in wrapping the warm wool over her shoulders.

  "That's all I ever wanted to do," he replied gruffly, his admission so kind, that she wished for a moment she could love him. "Have Maggie bring her some broth. She's pale and cold. She needs something to warm her."

  "Baron, please. I can't possibly leave you alone in her bedchamber with her. It's not proper."

  "Propriety be damned, Frau Pembridge. Bring her some broth and do it now or I will take her from this place without your consideration. Your obvious ill-treatment of Chloe can only be described as cruel. What’s the matter with you?" He stood with his back to Chloe, his arms at his side, his fists curled. "You Madam are playing a game and I for one don't wish to play along."

  "I-It was for her own good. She was out of her mind with fever!" Dorothea's face blanched, her fierce expression sliding from her countenance. Chloe felt herself warming, not just from the blanket but Fredrick's protection. "I assure you, sir, I play no games," Dorothea stuttered.

  "Then bring Lady Chloe her broth and leave us alone to discuss our future."