by Jane Charles
The thought was dismissed as soon as it occurred to her. There were innocent children at the mill and nobody there who could stop Wilkes from getting what he was after. He was a lord and if the orphans went against him, they could be arrested or worse. Besides, Tobias was there and he would fight for her. She didn’t trust Wilkes not to do grave harm to the boy.
She altered her route and ran toward the road. If she could keep going maybe she would come upon a carriage and someone to help her.
“You won’t get away from me Eleanor, but keep running. It makes me want you more.”
His words only made her run faster. He was close behind but she didn’t dare glance back to see how close. No, she must concentrate on going forward and away, watching her steps and running as fast as she could.
The road was in view. If she could break from the trees and make it up the slight incline, she would have a flat road and could move faster. There was already a stitch in her side, but she couldn’t stop now. She had to run until she collapsed and hopefully that didn’t happen before she found help.
Wilkes grasped her shoulder hard, pulling at Elle roughly. She lost her footing and fell to the ground. The momentum sent them tumbling down the incline until they came to rest at the bottom next to a dry creek bed. Elle was on top of Wilkes and he seemed a bit dazed.
She pushed against his chest and rose, scampering off of him and back up the hill.
His hand clamped around her ankle and she fell forward. “Not yet, my love,” he crooned.
Her head hit the ground and a sharp pain shot through her wrist as she tried to save herself. Tears blinded her for a moment. Elle ignored the pain and tried to push herself up, but Wilkes yanked on her ankle again and dragged her back toward him.
Elle flipped on her back and struck out at him with her free foot, connecting with his midsection. He laughed. She should have aimed lower but her blasted skirts were tangled.
He caught hold of both ankles and pulled her through the dirt toward him, widening her legs with each inch, her skirts lifting higher and higher. He was between her legs and if she didn’t get away from him now it would be too late.
Elle struggled and tried to shake him loose by kicking her legs but his fingers tips dug harder into her skin. How could this man be so strong?
When he was over her, he grabbed her thighs and yanked them apart. Pure terror ran through her veins. He reached and grabbed her drawers and began to rip them.
This would not happen to her.
Elle raised her right hand formed a fist and connected with his jaw. Wilkes head flung back and she pushed against his chest.
He lost his balance and rolled to his side.
Elle pulled one leg free and tried to yank the other, but he was on top of it. She drew her knee back and kicked with all of her might, striking him at the side of the head. He rolled off her, grabbing his eyes.
Elle yanked her foot free and rolled away, her dress tearing in the process. She was on her feet in moments and running toward the road. She didn’t make it past the tree line before his hands bite into her waist, his breath a rough pant in her ears.
“This is much more than I ever dreamed. Having you for a wife is going to be more than I dared hope for.”
She opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she possibly could as he lifted her in the air before tossing her to the ground. The air left her lungs and her head connected with something hard. She tried to cry out and tried to push Wilkes away but darkness invaded.
*
Clay came across the carriage at the side of the road and recognized Wilkes’ crest on the side of the door immediately. He pulled the gun from his pocket and aimed it at the driver. “Where are they?”
The man’s eyes about bugged out of his head and he pointed toward the woods. “Down there.”
He glanced down at the ground and could make out the path they took by the disturbance in the long ago dried leaves and foliage. He walked carefully but quickly. He didn’t want to risk stepping on a twig and alerting Wilkes to his presence. The man was vicious and Clay intended to surprise him. The urgency was getting to Elle in time however.
A red blanket had been tossed on the ground but there was no sign of Elle.
He scanned the area further until he noticed footprints and more grass disturbed and a few purple wildflowers broken from their stems.
A scream rent through the air. Eleanor’s scream. Clay took off at a dead run toward the sound. If Wilkes harmed one hair on her head, he was a dead man.
He could hear thrashing but he couldn’t see anything. Leaves rustled up ahead. Elle must have gotten away. He increased his pace, determined to get to her before Wilkes caught her and did the unthinkable.
A terrifying scream filled the air and Clay’s heart about stopped. He raced onward, up the slope, his breaths coming hard. As he reached the tree line he found Wilkes bending over Elle. She lay unmoving on the ground. She didn’t make a sound.
Clay pulled the pistol from his pocket and aimed the barrel toward Wilkes. Was he a good enough shot to hit the man and avoid hitting Elle? His hand trembled slightly. He could not miss. He would not miss.
Her gown had been shoved to her thighs and Wilkes was messing with the front of his breeches. Thank goodness he had arrived in time. The thought that Wilkes had not been successful but still determined to rape Eleanor steadied Clay’s hand. “Move away from Miss Westin, Wilkes.”
The man looked at Bentley and blanched.
Instead of doing what he asked, he frantically tore at his pants. “I will have her.”
“Like hell you will.” Clay didn’t wait for any further argument and pulled the trigger.
Wilkes head snapped to the side and he fell way from Eleanor.
Clay tossed the spent gun and raced forward. He barely glanced at Wilkes and concentrated on Elle. He tapped her face lightly, trying to rouse her, but she didn’t move. What was wrong?
He carefully searched her body for injury. There were bruises on her ankles, finger prints. If he had any more bullets, he would shoot Wilkes again.
Her right wrist was discolored, swollen and laying at an odd angle. Most likely broken and his rage reached new proportions.
He turned and kicked Wilkes in the gut. It moved the man off of Eleanor’s skirts and further away. He wished to keep kicking but the man was most likely dead. Still, it wasn’t satisfaction enough.
Clay returned his attention to Eleanor. None of these injuries should have caused her to lose consciousness, unless it was fear and shock of what was about to happen. If that were the case, what would bring her out of it?”
Wilkes groaned and his eyes opened.
How the hell was that man not dead?
Blood streamed down his face, but he was very much alive and lurched to his feet.
Clay moved away from Eleanor and put himself in the path between her and Wilkes. The man’s eyes gleamed with evil and it chilled Clay to the bone. He reached into his front pocket and Clay grabbed his knife. A pistol appeared in Wilkes’ hand and Clay didn’t hesitate. Before Wilkes took aim, Clay lifted the blade and let it fly. It struck Wilkes in the center of his chest.
The man’s eyes widened with shock and he brought a hand to his chest. Crimson spread across the white linen. Blood trickled from the corner of Wilkes mouth and he dropped to his knees. The life faded from his eyes as he fell back on the forest floor.
Clay didn’t give a second thought to the man, satisfied for sending him to hell where he belonged and returned his attention to Elle. Carefully he slid an arm beneath her legs and another under her shoulders and lifted her from the ground. He was almost standing when he spied the blood on the rock that had lain beneath her. Gently he lay her back down and felt behind her head. There was a deep gash and swelling. When he brought his hand away it was covered in blood.
If Wilkes wasn’t already dead, he would gladly kill him all over again.
This time Clay scooped Elle up and carried her toward the road, cradl
ing her gently in his arms. His phaeton and Wilkes’ carriage were not far away. Wilkes’ driver dashed forward.
“Tie my horses to the back of your carriage,” Clay barked before opening the carriage door. Eleanor needed to lie comfortably and the phaeton was not the place. He lay her down on the seat and stepped back outside. “Drive me back to the Acker Hall and then you can come and collect your dead master.”
The man did as ordered then hastened to the box and set the horses in motion. They turned slowly in the road until they were moving at a brisk pace toward the mill.
Clay lifted Eleanor and cradled her in his lap. Her head continued to bleed, soaking the arm of his coat.
She had to live. She had to come out of this. He couldn’t live without her.
Chapter 24
Eleanor’s eyes fluttered open, her vision a blur. Every part of her body ached and the pain in her head made her stomach roll. Or it was the movement. Was she in a carriage? Where was she going and what had happened to her?
She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw to ward off the pain and nausea and tried to recall what happened. Wilkes’ face swam through her mind with his hard eyes, cold hands and evil smile. He’d intended to rape her. Had he? She couldn’t recall.
Tears sprang to her eyes. If he had, at least she hadn’t been alert enough to remember, or perhaps she’d blocked the memory.
What was she to do? There was no escape now and she would have to live with this man for the rest of her life. Even if she was rescued, could she ever face her family and friends again, knowing what that man had done to her?
The humiliation was too much and she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
“Eleanor?” Clayton’s voice whispered near her ear. A warm hand caressed her brow.
Her mind was playing tricks on her. Clay was gone. Drake said he had left so he could not possibly be in the carriage with her. She just wished he was so badly her mind had conjured him.
“Elle, wake up.”
It sounded so much like him. Oh, if only he were truly here.
Warm lips touched her brow. It was such a gentle caress, not cruel or hurtful, but loving.
She forced her eyelids up and focused on the face hovering above hers. It was blurry and she blinked her eyes a few times until the man came into focus. The greenest eyes looked down at her, brows drawn together with concern.
What was Clay doing here? What had happened?
The carriage lurched and Elle could no longer control the contents in her stomach. Sitting quickly, pain raging through her body and head throbbing, she leaned over the side of the carriage seat. Clay must have realized what she was about to do and shoved his legs to the side as her stomach spasmed and she cast up her accounts onto the floor.
His hold about her waist was gentle, but he kept her from toppling from the seat and pulled her hair from her face with his other hand. When her body finished heaving she fell back onto him and Clay gathered her close. Elle clung to him with her good hand and buried her face against his warm firm chest. “Please don’t leave me.” Her voice was a choked whisper.
He smoothed a hand down her back. “I plan on never leaving your side again.”
At his words all tension left her body and she drifted off into a peaceful black void.
*
Clay glanced out the window, holding Elle close. He meant every word. No matter what her intentions or whether she’d later regret her dazed plea, he would not leave her again. Ever. He knew a thousand regrets as she lay unconscious on his lap, soaking his coat sleeve with her blood. What if he had lost her for good? What if he had not arrived in time? He pressed his lips to her brow. Why hadn’t he stood at her front door and begged her to marry him instead of going away? Why was he such a damn blasted fool when it came to Eleanor?
He looked down into her pale, beautiful face. She had put up a fight. He knew of no women who had the spirit of Elle and he admired her for it as much as he loved her.
Yes, he loved her. It came as a rush over him when he feared she was gone from him, fearing she would never awake. Head injuries were so dangerous and she had lost so much blood. But, she would survive. He would make her survive. And she would never know worry again in her life. She and the children would have everything they might ever need, and every comfort imaginable. He just prayed she would still have him after the way he had treated her.
Clay clenched his jaw and blinked back tears, the first to come to his eyes since he was a boy. But the pain at the thought of losing her was too much, coupled with the relief when she had briefly opened her eyes and looked at him. Clay let the tears slip free. He had to make her love him. Somehow, someway, he would win her heart or die trying.
He lifted his shoulder to swipe the tear away, unwilling to remove his hold on her. She once claimed if one did not enjoy life, one would be reduced to tears. He understood so well now. Not that he anticipated ever becoming a blubbering fool, but his father was wrong. Tears were not a sign of weakness, but evidence of emotion. If one were to truly laugh and love, one must also accept pain, and its effects. And he was willing to openly embrace each and every emotion a human could succumb to, even if it meant a tear now and then. He wanted to live. He was ready to live. He had not known that he hadn’t been until he met Elle. She showed him how bloody blind he had been his entire life.
Clay brushed the back of his finger along her soft, white cheek. Her skin was cool and breathing light. Did she sleep or had she fallen into unconsciousness again? Please let it be sleep, from that she would awake.
The carriage slowed and he glanced out the window. They had arrived back at Acker’s estate. At first Clay had thought to deliver her to his home at the mill, which was much closer, but the doctor was further away. He knew at Acker’s there would be a comfortable bed and staff to protect Elle. Until she reached her majority, her grandfather could still come after her and he would die before he let that man within the same house. Elle would not be leaving Acker’s until she was well enough to travel to Bentley Manor, where she would live for the rest of her life with her siblings, whether she liked it or not, because he refused to be parted from her again.
As the horses came to a stop the main doors were flung open. It wasn’t a servant, but Acker, pistol in his hand. The faces of the children appeared at the window of the parlor, as did that of Lady Acker. “It is me. I have Eleanor,” Clay called out.
Acker pocketed the gun and rushed forward, yanking the door open before the driver had a chance to climb down from his seat. “Good Lord.”
“I need to get her inside and send for a doctor.”
Clay carefully lifted Elle and passed her into Acker’s waiting arms. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he took her back. He wasn’t about to let anyone else care for her.
“Where is Wilkes?” Acker matched his hurried pace to the door.
“Send for the constable, too. He—,” Clay jerked his head back toward the driver, “—can take him to the body.”
They paused in the foyer, the children now stood in the doorway. Their eyes were wide with fright, Leigh fought tears. They were now to be his family.
Acker paused and gave the instructions to the footman then headed for the stairs. “This way.”
Clay took the stairs two at a time. He wanted to hold Elle until the doctor arrived, but knew it was best if she rested in a bed.
“Stay here with the children, Leigh,” Lady Acker ordered and then followed them upstairs.
Acker stopped at the first door to the left of the landing and pushed it open. A large bed loomed in the center of the room. Lady Acker rushed around him to pulled the counterpane away and a maid appeared at her side to help finish the task
“We need to get her comfortable,” the other woman insisted. “Hold her for a moment, Bentley, and let me get her buttons.”
He lifted an eyebrow at Acker and his friend turned his back, giving them privacy. Then Clay adjusted Elle so that Lady Acker could work the buttons and free
her from her gown.
The older woman’s hands shook and Clay lost patience. Stepping around her, he laid Elle on the bed, turned her on her side and ripped the dress open at her back. Beneath the fine traveling dress was a tightly tied corset. He didn’t have time to undo the strings. “Give me your knife, Acker.”
Acker produced it and Clay slit the ties. Between him and Lady Acker, they stripped Elle of her gown and corset, leaving her in her shift before letting her rest upon the pillows. Her head had begun to bleed again with all the movement and a maid handed him a towel for Elle to rest upon.
Why didn’t she awaken again? With all the jostling, that should have brought anyone from a sound sleep. Clay stood above the bed, unable to take his eyes from Elle. She was so pale. Her lips were even colorless. Why wouldn’t she wake?
“What happened?” Acker asked quietly from his side.
Clay pulled his eyes way and focused on his friend and explained quietly how he came upon her and what happened. A maid moved silently about the bed with a wash cloth, cleaning the dirt from Elle’s face, arms and hands. More bruises were revealed. What was her grandfather thinking to marry her off to the likes of Wilkes? Did he know nothing of the man’s reputation?
Or maybe he did, and simply wanted Elle out of the way.
Acker pulled him away from the bed and quickly told him what the children had relayed after they arrived on his doorstep in the middle of the night. “I went to the house but Elle and Wilkes had already departed. I roused Lord Stanhope and demanded answers but he refused to talk,” Aker said. “Tobias arrived just as I was saddling my horse. As you already had a head start on me, I decided to stay back with the children. They were frightened enough already.”