He froze. “See what, my lady?”
“The Beast of Arundale.”
His nostrils flared. “You need never see it. I am in control of it.” He abruptly dropped her hand and turned away.
“I want to see it.”
“No.” He turned his back and sat down at the head of the table.
She took a deep breath and walked out of the room.
The front door seemed as if it were miles away but she reached it and yanked it open. Bastard. The stubborn ass. The fact that he had put her pleasure before his own the night before had given her a glimmer of hope that perhaps they could start again. But he refused to accept her love when she offered it. All he wanted was capitulation. Nothing had changed. Love was a gift he spurned. Only her submission mattered. She was an acquisition, a piece of property to be used up and tossed away when he was finished. She should have shot him and been done with it.
She stomped to the stables and waved off Botter to saddle her horse on her own. The actions of routinely placing the blanket, the reins, the saddle, all soothed her. By the time she climbed onto her Shadow’s back she was calmer.
“You intend to ride before breakfast?”
She almost fell off her horse when Joshua spoke from the door of the barn. He grinned and nodded to the stable man. “Get my horse.”
“Leave me alone, Joshua.” She gripped a crop in her hand. When had she become so violent? A pistol and now a crop?
“I made a promise, my love,” he said smoothly, and mounted his horse. “I intend to keep it. Lead on. I’ll follow you.”
She gritted her teeth and clenched her fingers around the handle of the crop. It occurred to her that she would enjoy slicing that crop right across his arrogant face. Instead she careened out of the stable and galloped out onto the moor.
It was her favorite pastime when the stress of the house was too much to ride recklessly across the moors. The bitter wind, the hostile ground, the darkening skies never deterred her. Once she’d ridden like a madwoman in a torrential downpour.
Now she ran from a demon she was well familiar with. His grinning face had haunted her nightmares and now the real man rode steadily behind her. Hooves pounded and mud flew as she raced her husband through the treacherous landscape.
Had she ever wanted the horse to stumble and put an end to her responsibilities once and for all? That was a question she’d never answered. All she knew was that she felt free when the horse took the bit in his teeth and ran recklessly through the heather. Her heart skittered and her pulse accelerated when Shadow jumped another hedge, barely clearing a fast-rushing stream on the other side.
Suddenly, large hands reached over and gripped her reins, yanking back on them and stopping Shadow. She turned in the saddle to glare at her husband. “I didn’t ask you along.”
“I will not allow you to kill yourself,” he snapped, his breathing heavy.
“You haven’t been here. And now suddenly you want to stop me?” She tried to yank the reins away. He held fast and something within her snapped. After ten years of complete neglect, he wanted to lay down the law, treat her as though she were subject to his will. Never!
“Elizabeth—”
She laid the crop across his neck.
Horrified, she stared at the resulting welt on his skin. What had she become? She dropped the crop as if it had burned her.
His eyes glittered that tell-tale luminous blue. “That was a mistake, little flower.”
For a split second, the years fell away and Elizabeth remembered other times, better times, when he’d used that endearment. But the threat in his gaze recalled her to the present.
Fear replaced any guilt or shame she experienced and she tried to reel her horse away from him. Instead, he yanked the horse closer to his and grabbed a fistful of her hair in his hand. She struggled, the horses restless beneath them. He hauled her into his arms, forcing her to kick free of her saddle.
She thought he was going to kiss her. How wrong she was.
He laid her face down over his saddle and lifted her skirt to her waist. She tried to squirm away. “Let me go, Joshua.”
“No.” He struck her backside with a firm hand. She cried out.
“What are you doing?” she snapped and tried to get away from him.
“I’m giving you the spanking you deserve.” He struck her again and again, his calloused hand hot against her skin through her petticoat. The pain diminished and she realized she was becoming aroused. Damn him, she thought and struggled anew.
She moaned when his hand struck her at the junction where her pussy throbbed and wept. Her nerves sizzled with pain and with something more dangerous and powerful. His hand connected with her enflamed flesh and she fought both her arousal and his dominance.
But his continued assault made her reel and she had no control as she arched toward his hand, seeking rather than rejecting his strikes. So close, so needy, she sobbed, tears dripping from her eyes.
Then he jerked her into his arms and twisted one hand in her hair. When his lips claimed hers, she sagged into his chest. This was no comforting touch of his mouth to hers, nor was it meant to coax her into submission. He demanded and she gave. He took and she surrendered.
He broke the kiss but kept one arm banded around her and his hand twisted in her hair. For a moment he stared at her. Then he whispered, “When will you accept what your body already knows?”
Her nostrils flared. “You can take my body, Joshua, but you will never own my soul.” It was a brave lie but one she had to tell him. If he knew how completely he owned her, she would go up in flames.
His lips tightened. “I never wanted to own your soul, Elizabeth.”
“Liar,” she shouted and struggled in his arms. “You swore your love to me, took my soul and then you left me. You abandoned me. Your love was quickly sold away. And for what?”
Jealousy, hurt and despair had eaten a hole in her and she felt empty, hollowed out. He couldn’t understand what it was like and didn’t try. He said he wanted to heal the hurt but continued to override her feelings.
His hands held her fast and he thrust his face closer to hers. “I thought I had to. I believed I would tear you to shreds.”
She froze. “What?”
His jaw clenched and his hand tightened in her hair. “I had no control over the Beast then. I didn’t understand it. I believed, when I left, that I was saving your life.”
She glared at him. “Pretty sentiment. And makes perfect sense…for the first few years. But after? Or did you just like sleeping with your Jamaican whores so much that you couldn’t bring yourself to come home?”
He covered her mouth. “Don’t say that, little flower. I never replaced you in any way. There have been no other women.”
She fought him and bit the palm of his hand. He winced but did not release her or remove his hand. His blue eyes changed and she knew the Beast was close but she didn’t care. Her squirming disturbed the horse, though, and she hoped the animal would throw them both.
Joshua tossed her to the ground, dismounting so fast that she had time only to stumble a few steps before he caught her. He dragged her toward a clump of bushes and thrust her into a small clearing that gave them a measure of privacy from the remote possibility of anyone passing.
She sprinted to escape but he caught her easily and dealt with her pathetic attempts to break his hold on her. But she couldn’t surrender like she had the night before. He’d conquered her so easily, destroying her resistance to him with one touch. Though she loved him, she knew he would leave her again, go back to his life of whores and isolation. Why not? Why would any man want to stay in a house filled with such drama?
“If you fight me, I’ll loose the Beast on you,” he snapped.
She glared her defiance. “I’m not afraid of the Beast. It’s mindless, heartless and easier to deal with than the man who made me love him.”
“You still love me,” he stated.
“Let me go,” she said throug
h gritted teeth. Damn him. Damn him to hell.
“Say it, Elizabeth. Say you still love me.”
She pursed her lips and gazed at him sullenly.
A sense of danger made her heart pound when he grinned at her. “You will say it before I’m finished.”
Panic made her insane and she stomped on his instep. He howled and his grip loosened. She sprinted away from him, heedlessly rushing through the bushes. His heavy footsteps didn’t sound behind her.
She glanced back and didn’t see him but she didn’t slow down. It took a moment to orient herself, but she started to head back toward the house. A neigh echoed in the air and she knew he’d gone back for his horse. The thunder of hooves matched the pounding of her heart and she stumbled along the edge of a marshy pond.
Something tripped her and she crashed headlong to the soft, muddy ground. When she lifted her head she discovered her horse, its internal organs splayed everywhere. The belly was split open and the wide, dead gaze met hers.
Elizabeth screamed, the sound startled from her. She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it as the stench of fresh blood and some other nasty smell assaulted her senses.
Joshua appeared and, though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she had never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. He cradled her head and buried her nose in his chest. “Oh, little flower. I’m so sorry.” He stroked her hair. It was so comforting, so warm, that she stayed still.
An eternity seemed to pass, but reality intruded. She stiffened and jerked away from him.
Shadow, her horse, had clearly been attacked by something with huge claws and a taste for equine hearts, since that organ was conspicuously missing, a large gaping hole where it should have been. She wondered if the other man, the body she’d found weeks earlier, had lost his heart in the same way.
“It was.”
She glanced at Joshua, who stared at her horse with an intense, serious expression. “It was what?” she asked.
“The heart of the man you found. It was gone.” He studied the ground, his long fingers touching the dead carcass with a gentleness that surprised her.
“Joshua, who is doing this?” she whispered. Perry. Could it be Perry? Had the wolf of Arundale legend become real? In Lady Madeline Arundale’s journals, old stories were repeated to shed light on the importance of controlling the wolf within. Many of them depicted horrific scenes like this one.
“I don’t know, little flower. But we have to find out before someone else is killed.”
Chapter Six
The men found nothing.
Joshua paced the library, the evening light waning through the windows. Even Jaimison had come up empty. And the constable was focused on Perry, who had disappeared yet again. Who had attacked Elizabeth’s horse?
It was easier to think about that instead of the words she’d thrown at him. He’d said she still loved him with confidence but in his heart he wasn’t completely sure. She had changed, become stronger and more beautiful, something he hadn’t thought possible. And his love for her had increased beyond the youthful lust that had driven him in their courtship. Now it bordered on obsession.
The door opened. “Donaldson is searching Perry’s room,” Elizabeth said and collapsed in one of the chairs, all her ladylike airs gone. “I hope to God he doesn’t find anything.”
“Why? Wouldn’t that make your life easier?” He regretted the words the minute they left his mouth, but she didn’t react.
“No. I love Perry.”
A white-hot poker would have hurt less. She loved his brother. He gazed at her tired, sad face and wondered why the hell he had come home. “My dear,” he said in a calm voice, though inside chaos reigned. “It isn’t good form to admit an affair to one’s husband. Especially if he is a vicious animal.”
Her eyes blazed when she opened them. “An affair?” She sprang to her feet. “I love Perry like a brother. When you left—” She choked. “After you were gone—” Her voice cracked. “He was all I had. Don’t you see? He was a little piece of you still here.” She bit her lower lip and turned away to leave. “It’s pointless to explain it to you.”
“Try,” he said softly.
She faced him and tipped her chin in an expression that was becoming all too familiar. “Until recently, Perry made me feel like family. I tried to help him, take care of him.” Her gaze shifted away. “But I failed and he pushed me away. There’s been no affair, my lord. I am as alone today as I was on the day you met me.”
She strode toward the door and jerked it open. He wished he could find the words, the right ones, to stop her. “Please, little flower—”
“Don’t call me that,” she snarled. “I am not your little flower anymore.” This time, the door slammed and he crossed the room, determined to stop her, reason with her.
Instead, when he opened it, he found the large, ruddy constable standing in the doorframe. “Well now, my lord, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” He didn’t sound sorry, though.
Joshua studied the solid form of the officer. “It can’t be helped,” he said and waved a hand at one of the library chairs.
Donaldson sank slowly into the armchair and sighed. “Not a nice welcome home for you. We are glad you’re back, my lord.”
“Thank you, constable.” Joshua reclined in the seat behind the desk and waited. The other man seemed to choose his words and his actions carefully.
“Lady Arundale says she has no idea where Lord Perry Arundale is at the moment.” The man’s sharp brown eyes narrowed slightly. “Would you happen to know where he might go, my lord?”
Joshua drummed his fingers on the surface of the desk. He had a damn good idea where Perry had gone. Sober and ashamed, Perry would find the nearest bottle and get lost in it for a time. Where specifically his bottle might take him wasn’t as clear. “I’m afraid not. He drinks excessively, which makes his actions difficult to determine.” He met the constable’s gaze squarely. “I do not think he is the culprit behind these killings.”
“I wish I could take your assurances alone as evidence, my lord,” Donaldson said. He rose from his chair and Joshua followed suit. The man was methodical and Joshua hoped that would clear his brother. “Believe me, I could use some evidence. At this juncture the killings seem to be the work of either a wild animal or a diabolical human being. The neighborhood is frightened, my lord.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a huge hand. “Wild rumors will fly and I don’t want someone to get hurt who has nothing to do with this business.”
“Rumors, constable?” Joshua knew the rumors would start up again. The Beast of Arundale, the vicious killer on the moors, was an old story. The Arundale family had managed to squash it, but these brutal slayings would bring it to the surface again. Many of Joshua’s ancestors had dealt with a mob from the village. Would he be forced to do so as well?
“I’m a practical man, my lord. I’m not given to fantasy. Yet the stories being circulated concern me.” Donaldson shook his head. “If Lord Perry was my brother, I would keep him out of sight for the time being.”
Joshua nodded. “Thank you, constable. I will find my brother and keep you informed.”
“Thank you, my lord.” The big man left the library.
Joshua rang the bell and Sarah opened the door. “My lord?”
“Tell my wife I am going out this evening and send a note to Jaimison to meet me at this address.” He scribbled down the information on a piece of paper and handed it to the maid. “And tell him to hurry.”
Sarah whirled around and quickly obeyed him. Joshua shrugged his heavy coat on and grabbed his pistol from the desk drawer. He checked the mechanism and the load to make sure the weapon was ready.
As he left the library, Elizabeth rushed down the stairs to intercept him. “Are you going after Perry?”
“Yes,” he said shortly.
His wife’s fingers were twisted together and her face was pale. “Joshua, let me go with you.”
“No.”
; One of her hands clutched his arm. “Please, my lord. I’ve never seen Perry this…desperate. He’s dangerous.”
“All the more reason you should remain here.”
“He will not hurt me.” She gazed at him steadily.
“Because he’s in love with you?” Joshua asked the question, not really wanting the answer.
“No.” Elizabeth stepped closer to face Joshua. “Because I am your wife. Perry has always protected me from himself.”
“Be that as it may, I will track down my brother.” He gazed down at his mate and thought of the times she’d gone out into the night, seeking and retrieving his errant relative. “If I do not return—”
“Don’t say that,” she said fiercely, her hand gripping his arm painfully. “Not even as a jest, Joshua.”
“Would you miss me?” he asked quietly.
For a moment he saw torment, absolute agony, in her solemn stare. Then she blinked and it was gone. “How long do you think Melinda will allow me to stay once her son inherits Arundale?”
She was lying. He could smell it. She would miss him and she wouldn’t admit it. “Perry, as you so insistently pointed out, is my responsibility. I will deal with him,” he said grimly.
“I will follow you anyway,” she insisted. “You cannot stop me.”
Joshua’s mind filled with erotic images of how he could restrain her, tie her up to the bedposts with something thicker and stronger than the flimsy material he’d used before. He considered actually putting his ideas into action but knew he wouldn’t stop with just tying her up. He’d spend all night showing her how much he needed her, adored her.
But that wouldn’t prove a thing and he knew it. With every bone in his body he wanted to keep her safe from harm, locked away from the ugliness of the world. But she’d seen some of the worst the world had to offer and still remained innocent and untouched by it.
“Will you do what I say, Elizabeth?” he asked.
Her expression became guarded. “Within reason.”
“Without question or I will tie you to your bed naked, waiting for me until I get home.” He noticed his voice was hoarse with arousal. He wanted her to defy him so he could carry out his threats.
Wolf of Arundale Hall Page 7