by Rosen, Janey
“Mum. Oh, Mum. Please. I need you.” Bella’s voice. A mobile phone ringing.
“Come on, you old tart. You’re stronger than this. Get your arse in gear and get back to work.” Ruth’s voice. More weeping.
“Beth, love. I’m here. Pull though. Oh, please, pull through.” Mum’s voice. A whispered prayer.
Sebastian’s holding my hand, stroking my palm and gazing lovingly into my eyes. He looks exhausted. Dark circles surround his sad eyes. “Penny for them.” He smiles.
I’m in a hospital room, attached to a machine that keeps making irritating bleeping noises. I hurt everywhere, especially my head, but when I try to raise my hand to feel the bandage, my hand won’t move far enough. It seems to be attached to a line. “I’m so thirsty,” I croak. Sebastian turns and retrieves a glass of water with a straw from the table beside the bed, then gently lifts my head so that I can take a sip.
“Thank you, that’s better.” He places the glass on the table, clutching my hand in his again. “How long have I been here?”
“A couple of days.” He shifts his position on the side of the bed so that I can see his face more clearly without needing to crane my neck. “Fuck, Elizabeth…I thought I’d lost you.” Tears mist his beautiful dark eyes. “When I saw you, what she’d done to you…I wanted to kill her with my bare hands.”
I squeeze his hand. “Thank heavens you came, darling. How did you know?”
“I didn’t know. The clerk called to say the judge was still sick and that the inquest was being adjourned to a new date, so I could go home. I thought about staying in the hotel but something told me I needed to get back to you. Thank God I did. I just…I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Scarlett– you tied to the cross, the blood. My world just stopped right there, thinking she’d killed you. When she saw me, she tried to kiss me. I threw her off, cut you down with the knife she’d dropped, and then a rage took hold of me. She saw it in my eyes and she ran. I followed her to the roof.
“Her intention was clear and suddenly, I didn’t want to kill her. I felt pity for her, so sick, so twisted. I tried to get her to come down from the roof but she wouldn’t budge. I even tried to Dom her. I thought that may snap her out of it, but it didn’t. Then when you appeared and she saw you. I think she knew that she’d lost me. She just fell back, darling. One minute she was there, the next she fell. The paramedics got there fast, but she was already dead…the impact.” A tear escapes, forming a tiny river down his unshaven jaw. “We just don’t know how she got in the house, or where she’d been hiding. It’s a mystery.”
“She told me,” I say quietly, his eyes widening. “She found a smugglers’ tunnel in the cellar in her room. She’d been hiding in there, taking food from the house at night, watching us. She never left. She never left Penmorrow.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He rakes a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Mother…did she hurt her?” My grip tightens on his hand. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
“She’d tied her up, Elizabeth, but that was all. The police came quickly. They found her before I could. She was pretty shaken up, but she’s been checked over here, had an ECG, she’s fine. She’s just been beside herself with worry, as we all have. Oh, and the police found a stash of pills. In the larder, would you believe? They think she’d used up Libby’s supply but that wouldn’t have lasted long, the rate she was feeding them to you. The police think she was buying them from a dealer, possibly locally but more likely in Exeter. They are looking at CCTV footage.”
This news is welcome confirmation, if more was needed, that my recent madness was squarely down to Scarlett. I need to sit up, hug this man tightly, but my body is too sore. Sebastian stops me, seeing the pain on my face. He lays a hand lightly on my shoulder. “Am I going to be all right?” I whisper.
He smiles, his expression telling me that I’m going to be just fine. “You’re an amazing woman, Elizabeth Dove. You’ve baffled the doctors with your resilience, you know. You had a concussion but your skull wasn’t fractured. There’s a wound at the back of your head which they’ve stitched. It’s going to hurt but you’re going to have strong pain-killers. Also, you have superficial cuts and they’re going to take a little time to heal but she didn’t cut deep. You’re going to have some scars, but you know what?”
“What?” I ask sorrowfully, ashamed of my disfigured body.
“I’m going to kiss and love every single one of those scars, because they will remind me every day what a strong and incredible woman I’m married to.”
My breath catches. “Married?”
“Yes, darling, married. When you’re better, I’ll ask you properly of course, but you will marry me.” He arches a brow, his lips forming a crooked smile, daring me to say no.
“Yes, Sebastian. Oh, yes, please.” He sighs, grinning, and gathers me into his arms, only releasing me when I wince with the pain of his embrace.
***
Zariya snorts and puts her head down. I pull tightly on her reigns and urge her on. “Come on, girl, don’t let Brutus beat you.” Sebastian throws his head back and laughs. With a swift kick to Brutus’s flank he propels him forward, taking the lead. Zariya meets his pace. We are neck and neck. Racing forth across the green meadow, the wind whipping my hair. He’s ahead now.
My crop whips across the mare’s flank. “Come on, girl.” Glancing across at Sebastian, he is hunched into the wind, racing his horse with all his strength. My crop cracks once more against the horse’s flank. She whinnies and picks up her pace once more. The ancient oak stands proud on the horizon. Swaying in the breeze, it waves to us as we ride the wind.
“You lost,” I pant. “Take off your clothes.”
“Never,” he says defiantly. “Make me.”
“With pleasure,” I reply, my brow arching. He grabs me, pulling me down into the long grass. We roll again and again, clutching at each other, down the hill. Our mouths meet, our limbs entwine. “I love you, Sebastian. Always have. Always will.”
Chapter 19
It’s a glorious day. The sun has burned off the early morning mist. Wherever I look, from my bedroom window, I see vibrant green grass, interspersed with wild flowers and ancient trees. The gravel driveway, directly below my window, is littered with cars, and people dressed in their summer finery—hats, fascinators, men in penguin suits, ladies in heels tottering on the gravel. I watch them all, my forehead pressed against the cool glass.
“Look at you…wow!”
Turning from the window, I beam at Mum, Ruth, and Bella. “Will I do?” My hands sweep down the lace bodice and across the ivory silk skirt, loving how it rustles when I move.
“He’s going to shoot his load just looking at you, love,” chuckles Ruth, and Mother swipes at her with a clutch bag.
Bella turns red and utters, “Eww, that’s just gross.”
“I’ve never seen you looking so beautiful, Beth.” Mum is tearful again. She’s used up almost an entire box of Kleenex already this morning and the wedding hasn’t even started yet. “Your father would be so proud.” She hands me my bouquet of roses and gypsophila, which complements the gypsophila scattered through my loose curls.
My bridesmaid, Bella, is dressed in a deep cerise knee-length dress with matching roses in her hair. Ruth, my matron of honour wears a full-length gown in the same coloured silk. She looks incredible, her wild curls tamed just for today in an elegant chignon. “This colour’s a bitch with my complexion,” she whines. Laughing, I tell my dearest friend how beautiful she is—outwardly, if not inwardly. She punches my arm playfully with an adorable pout on her pink lips.
A knock on the door means that it is time. Bella and Ruth walk ahead, Mother and I follow behind, pausing to allow them time to walk down the stairs first. The small orchestra begins to play in the great hall—Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, chosen for the memories it holds for Sebastian and I. Getting the marriage license for Pen
morrow had been my idea. Sebastian had taken some convincing, but finally he saw the sound business sense of hiring out the house for just ten weddings a year. Of course, it also enabled us to marry here. Neither of us could think of anywhere else we’d rather be on our special day, with the De Monfort ancestors smiling down…or frowning down, from the many portraits about the house.
“Come on, love.” Mother taps my arm gently and I link it through hers.
“Thank you for giving me away, Mum,” I whisper nervously, butterflies turning summersaults in my belly. She casts me an adoring smile and slowly we step, in time with each other and the music, toward the top of the sweeping oak staircase, which is intertwined with white roses and pink ribbon down the entire bannister. At the top step, I look down at the sea of elated faces. Theo is gazing adoringly at Bella. I’m pleased that their friendship is blossoming in spite of his father, Marcus, and Sebastian’s fight.
Standing resplendent in morning suit and silver cravat, one foot on the bottom stair—as if he’s going to run up the stairs and claim me if I don’t hurry up—is Sebastian. Our eyes meet and lock in a private, sensual stare. At this moment we are alone: just two people who love each other and who have overcome so very much to be together. He holds out a hand, his eyes never leaving mine as each step I take brings me closer to him. When our fingers touch, my hand slips in his, tiny sparks coursing through us both. At this instant, I know that I am a better person for having met Sebastian. I have made so many mistakes in my life, been selfish, and erratic. But the journey has changed me, and with the love we share we will continue to grow together. We’ll make a life together at Penmorrow and be the best parents we can be to Bella…and in time the best grandparents we can be.
“I now pronounce you to be husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
As our guests clap and Ruth, it could only be Ruth, wolf-whistles, Sebastian and I embrace. The love that is reflected in his smouldering eyes melts my heart. “You are mine,” he whispers.
“Yes, Sebastian. I am yours. Only yours. Forever.”
As our lips meet in a kiss that is far too passionate to be respectable, a tiny white feather floats down, swirling on a gentle breeze from the open windows to settle at our feet.
The End
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Sebastian’s Journal
It is indeed a dark mind that feeds my soul. My recollections recorded herein, are written with no thought to their candour, for they serve only to exorcise ghosts and quench my sadistic thirst. My journal shall never be read, other than by my ancestors who will likely be as depraved as I. This knowledge affords me the freedom to write fact and fiction and to seamlessly blend the two within my short tales…only I shall ever know the provenance of each.
My journal. My confidant. You judge me not for my dominant ways, nor seek retribution. Hold tight my secrets within your leather binding while I spill forth my prose and verse upon your chaste pages.
[Co-written by Janey Rosen and Lord Sebastian De Montfort].
Available now...
SECRETS
Sebastian Trilogy, Book One
Elizabeth dove is a mother, wife and successful business woman. To the outside world she leads a perfect life. Elizabeth knows differently—frustrated in a passionless marriage, she embarks on an illicit journey to rediscover her sensuality. When Elizabeth meets Sebastian De Montfort, Lord of Penmorrow House in Cornwall, she is thrust into his world of domination, dark secrets and self-discovery. Can Elizabeth find the fulfilment she seeks or will her own desires bring about the destruction of those she loves?
DARK BONDS
Sebastian Trilogy, Book Two
Elizabeth struggles to absorb tragic news. Her life seemingly in shreds, she is comforted by Lord Sebastian through her darkest days. At his suggestion, she and daughter Bella stay at his ancient manor house, Penmorrow, for a period of healing yet now Elizabeth must face not only the increasing sexual demands of the dominant Sebastian...but a darker undercurrent of malice. Who can she trust? A man who comforts yet controls her? Or his maid, Scarlett, who hints at her own dark past with her Lord?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Living on the south coast of England in a tranquil country setting, Janey leads a respectable life as mother to four fabulous children. Her days are spent as managing director of her own business, while she also dallies in politics. As darkness falls, so Janey loses herself to her true passion—writing. Surviving on four hours sleep each night, Janey burns the midnight oil letting her creativity loose...teasing from her mind the plethora of stories waiting to be told.
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