Rescue Me Please

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Rescue Me Please Page 18

by Nichole Matthews


  She leaned her head back against the cushions.

  He kissed her.

  Really kissed her and she had not fled.

  Her body had awakened and she felt desire, not revulsion. He made her feel like living again. She smiled. She allowed her eyes to drift closed, remembering how their bodies had melted together. She could still taste him on her tongue and she wanted to savor his flavor. She hadn’t drank her regular chocolate or eaten her toast before she had entered the conservatory because she had wanted to preserve his essence just a bit longer.

  She knew she was a strong woman, but she also knew the depth of her scars. She didn’t believe it fair to thrust her wounded spirit on another soul, not at this time. Not so soon. She had thought on them again and again. She replayed every moment, every touch, and each pain that had been inflicted upon her. It still horrified her to think of the atrocities she had endured and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to disclose the details.

  It had been such a long time since she had no worries. The moment her parents were gone, she had been forcibly dragged into a world of pain and humiliation, of self-preservation and fear. Since then she had had to protect and survive. She fought the tears that welled in her eyes. They were dead. She was alive and responsible for the life of another. Her parents would be proud of her escape, her fight, her perseverance, and they would not have wanted her to give up. So she chose to overcome. She chose to live.

  Besides, she felt the need to mourn and now she was given the time. The time to come to grips with the fierce grief that consumed her. Breathing deep, she closed her eyes and relaxed. She hadn’t chosen the conservatory to ruminate on her past, she had come to ponder her present situation and now she needed to head to the nursery to see her daughter before the day got underway. She slowly opened her eyes, sat up, and shook the memories away. She refused to allow them to hold her back. She refused to cage herself when she had already broken free.

  Parker noticed the pattern of lights change as he was about to step into the hall and glanced over his shoulder to see Persephone exiting the conservatory.

  “Parker,” she said softly as the door closed behind her.

  He bowed his head. “Have you breakfasted already, Persephone?”

  She nodded.

  “Perhaps you would care to take a stroll about the garden with me?”

  “That would be lovely.” She smiled and it lit up her eyes turning them into sparkling emeralds. “The sun is shining this morning, but there is still a chill in the air. Let me get my pelisse.”

  “I’ll wait for you here. We can reach the garden through the conservatory.”

  He waited for her to return and it seemed an eternity. He was not even aware that he held his breath until she walked back through the door and he expelled it on a sigh. His pulse pounded loudly in his ears. Now that he’d kissed her he thought he would go mad with wanting. He didn’t want to frighten her with his ardent desire, but as soon as she walked back into the breakfast room, he tugged her unceremoniously through the stained glass door. Unable to resist her any longer he pulled her close until her chest was crushed against his and she was shockingly close to his mouth. He caressed his way up her arms and down her ribs to rest under the curve of her breasts, his eyes never leaving hers. The heat in his eyes sparked heated memories of the previous evening’s activities and she shivered.

  He leaned down at the same time she rose up on tiptoe and touched her lips to his. He captured her mouth with his; sealing his lips over hers and her knees shook under the power of his touch. She reached up and tentatively stroked her fingers over his freshly-shaved jaw. “You won’t hurt me, Parker.”

  He captured her lips again, his mouth moving sensuously over hers. He nibbled on her upper lip, gently licking the seam with the tip of his tongue. Tender, but also demanding until he pulled away as breathless as she was, he smiled at her slightly glazed look. He lowered his head until his forehead rested against hers closing his eyes, as if fighting for control.

  She smiled brilliantly at him.

  ***

  He sat in the far corner, revulsion twisting deep as he watched the gut deep, aching need of some of the captives crying out for relief. It still baffled him that some were not captives, some were there of their own free will.

  His fists clenched tight at his side to keep from grabbing her and hauling her away from the long leather tails with various knots that were leaving dark pin marks across the skin of her back. He watched as her breathing appeared slightly labored as she anticipated the next delivery of pain.

  His hands clenched and unclenched into tight fists watching for any sign of distress on her part. His stomach seized at the loud groan of pleasure/pain he knew not which one that emanated from her throat. But she didn’t scream.

  He had to fight the urge to seize the implement of pain from the wielder’s hand, he had work to do. It meant seeing this through no matter how much it sickened him.

  He turned at the voice that slithered over him from behind. “Are we enjoying ourselves tonight, Perry?”

  He turned around, a smile plastered across his face. “Of course,” he replied crisply.

  Granville’s eyes held his for a long moment and he knew that Granville was searching for any sign of subterfuge before he turned and walked away.

  The tightness in his chest released almost painfully, as did the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding at Granville’s arrival, only to return, at the long, piercing scream that echoed through the dark dungeon.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet

  Eating her curds and whey,

  Along came a spider,

  Who sat down beside her

  And frightened Miss Muffet away

  Parker looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk as Fothergil stepped into his study. “Have you learned anything from our sources?”

  Fothergil shook his head, his lips thinned. “Not much of anything.”

  “Then what the fuck are you doing here?” Parker yelled.

  “Forgive me, my lord.” Fothergil saw the lines of tension around his eyes and didn’t so much as flinch. He knew the desperation bottled up in Lord Ashford. He knew what he was searching for. He knew its importance. He hated disappointing him, but it was an intricate maze and he had yet to find the correct path.

  Fothergil sat in the chair in front of Parker’s desk, his look serious. “But I have gathered that someone else is searching vigorously for Miss Smith, as well.”

  “What?” Parker rubbed his forehead to ease the tension that had erupted. “Who?” He stood and stepped towards the window. His office allowed a sweeping view of the gardens below, but at this moment they did nothing to distract his thoughts. He imagined his fingers tangled in those silky, flowing locks, pulling her head back so he could suck on her collarbone, her throat, her jaw, her ear, her…

  “I don’t know,” Fothergil replied, interrupting his inappropriately placed thoughts.

  Parker’s brow twisted with confusion. “How is it possible that we have yet to find any significant information?”

  “It’s as if each lead I’ve followed, someone has been two steps ahead asking the very same questions.”

  “Who is she?” Parker asked quietly. “Have you found out anything at all about the signet ring yet?”

  Fothergil shook his head. “No, my lord.” His eyes guileless. “But I currently have two men reviewing the books,” Fothergil added. “Perhaps we can spread word that she is here at Rosebriar, maybe a family member will come forward to help aid her.”

  “No,” Parker said in a hard voice. “We can’t.” Fothergil had no idea the extent of her injuries. He himself had barely scratched the surface. He had seen what was visible to the eye, but he knew that most scars ran deeper than the flesh. He would not torment her further. “Just continue down this path. Information will surface soon enough.”

  “I don’t see how we have any other choice in…”
r />   “I said no,” Parker interrupted.

  Fothergil frowned. “Of course, my lord.”

  ***

  Persephone and Piper were sitting in the large high-back leather chairs in the library. The heat of the fire made Persephone relax and grow sleepy.

  Piper let out a large yawn; she attempted to capture the sound with her hand to no avail. “I do apologize, Persephone.”

  “Do not apologize, Piper.” She smiled. “You have only done what I’ve wanted to do for the past quarter-hour,” Persephone said with a giggle. The heat of the fire, the easy friendship, and the darkened room are all conducive to sleepiness. “I’ve been debating sneaking upstairs to nap before dinner.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “I’m very glad that we’ve grown to be friends.”

  Piper’s comment surprised Persephone.

  “I know you’ve gone through so much over the past few years.” Piper twisted in her seat so that she could look Persephone in the eye. She began to respond, but Piper waved away her words. “You mustn’t say anything. I would like you to know that I’m fully aware of how crippling fear can be.”

  Persephone’s eyes opened widened. “I pray you will not be offended by what I am about to say, Piper.” A surge of envy rushed through her. “Not to belittle anything that you’ve endured, but I find it hard to believe that you’ve suffered much hardship.”

  Piper looked at her with a small indulgent smile. “I understand why you would feel that way.” She extended her hand to encompass the expensively appointed library. “My family is simply wonderful. My brother, Parker, is one of the most indulgent and caring men I’ve ever met outside of my husband.” Piper stared into the fire. “If you based all of your opinions on outward appearances, it would be very easy to believe that nothing unpleasant had ever occurred at Rosebriar.” Her smile small, yet a hint of sadness lurked somewhere behind her blue eyes.

  “I meant no offense.” Persephone turned her face to the fire; its flicker across the floor mesmerized her for a moment, taking her mind off their subject of conversation. She needed a distraction as she was unable to look at her friend at that moment. She fiddled with one of the ribbons on her sleeve and sat quietly.

  “I’ve taken no offense,” Piper said, her voice soft but low.

  Persephone swallowed hard, turned back, ready to listen to more. She wanted to hear the story. She wanted to believe that someone could understand all that she had borne. She gripped her hands together tightly in her lap and listened.

  “I feel a connection to you, Persephone.” Piper’s eyes held a smile. “You listen. It’s rare that people actually listen. That they actually want to know the truth.” Piper turned all too knowing eyes on Persephone making her squirm in her chair under her penetrating gaze. “While in London for the past Season, I was kidnapped by two men who hated Rockwell to the point of death.”

  Persephone gasped, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the sound as shock rippled through her. Her heart constricted painfully as a new sensation flowed. Longing rose in her, sharp and swift to release the tales that she had locked away. To gain sympathy from someone who would understand. For someone to acknowledge that what she had suffered had not been entirely her doing, but she had learned to detest being weak and she felt if they knew the truth she would be weak in their eyes. She couldn’t bear to witness that emotion in their depths.

  Piper continued, “They were intent on killing me, but Rockwell, Parker, and a couple of their friends rescued me just in time.”

  “Oh, Piper,” Persephone said, her voice full of pain.

  “I’m not relaying this story to gain your sympathy,” Piper said carefully. “I’m relaying this story to ease your mind,” Piper paused.

  Persephone sat listening to the words that flowed from Piper’s mouth and breathed deep the soothing smell of burning wood from the blazing fire and waited.

  “The men beat me and kept me in a dark, locked cell for days,” Piper stated, as if it was something that happened every day.

  Persephone nodded in understanding. She knew all too well what it was like to be held captive.

  Piper leaned over and covered Persephone’s hand with one of hers. “I just wanted you to know that it does get better,” she whispered. “The nightmares will fade and if you choose, you can be happy again.”

  Persephone’s head jerked up, a wild look in her eyes before they turned watery, full of unshed tears, a strangled sob escaping her lips. “That is very hard for me to believe.” She lowered her voice so that no one would be able to accidently overhear.

  “I am proof that life does not end after enduring a nightmare.” Piper had heard the tightness in Persephone’s voice, the hint of fear that still hovered near the surface. “You have friends now.”

  “It is all still so real.” Persephone shocked herself by saying these words out loud.

  “It’s acceptable to cry. It’s acceptable to still feel a modicum of fear. I think you’re brave to have made it through whatever you were forced to endure and to still be able to care for your child and smile. That is paramount.”

  “I love being a mother. It’s challenging and exhausting, but I never imagined I would be living hand to mouth or that I would be unwed. This is not how I pictured my future when I was a girl.”

  “Be grateful that life has seen fit to drop you at the doorstep of Rosebriar.” Piper smiled. “For there is no better haven in which to regain your strength and your sense of purpose.” Piper glanced at the clock in the corner. “I believe it is time for us to dress for dinner and for me to stop filling your ears with tales from the past better left in the past.”

  Some of the fear clouding Persephone’s features fell away as Piper spoke. She stood and Piper stood alongside her, shocked to the core when she was hauled close and wrapped in Piper’s arms.

  At first she stood stiff, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the act, before she relaxed into Piper’s comforting embrace. “Thank you for confiding such a delicate experience with me, Piper,” Persephone spoke softly; wet tears shimmered in her eyes. She lifted her eyes, her chin trembling. She bit her bottom lip in an attempt to still its movement. “In a manner of speaking, I too was kidnapped and abused.” Persephone’s heart raced and there was a hitch in her breath from speaking the words aloud.

  Piper leaned in and pulled Persephone into another reluctant hug. “We mustn’t go into any additional details at this time.” Piper pulled back and held out her hand. Persephone placed her hand in Piper’s and allowed her to lead her out of the library before linking their arms.

  “I’m starved.”

  Persephone’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled slightly. “Me too.”

  ***

  Peyton sat in the chair across from his superior a deep frown etched across his features and dark circles painted under his eyes. He had seen too much and his nightmares were filled with crying, screaming, and rivulets of blood flowing from flayed skin. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly and he shuddered at the picture that had just entered his mind willing it to retreat.

  “You look like hell.” Chillington snorted.

  Peyton opened his eyes, glancing up at him with a dark look before he slammed his chair back and stood. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and let out a low growl.

  “That bad?” Chillington steepled his fingers under his chin his brow lifted as he watched the emotions that played across Peyton’s face.

  “It’s fucking sickening.” Peyton’s gut twisted. “You have no idea what I’ve had to witness for the sake of justice.” His face felt taut, stretched tight over his features almost painful.

  “I know exactly what you’ve watched, Perry.” Chillington clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. “That is why you were there.”

  Peyton sat down hard, dropping his head into his hands. He wanted to roar with frustration.

  “My sister is dead because of these fucking bastards, Perry.” Chillington slammed his hands down on the top of his desk. “I want t
heses bastards and I do not care how you go about it.”

  Peyton’s eyebrows rose at the blunt statement.

  “Understood.” It was a statement, not a question. The scowl on Chillington’s face deepened for a split second before he was able to hide his reactions behind his mask once again. Chillington pushed out of the chair with a curse and poured two tumblers of whiskey. “Here.” He thrust the glass at Peyton without bothering to ask if he wanted the drink.

  Peyton flashed him a mocking smile before he drained his glass in one swallow. He enjoyed the burn as it eased slowly down his throat to warm him from the inside. He slammed the glass down on the top of the desk with enough force to shatter the crystal. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Chillington to continue.

  “Just don’t tell me what you had to do.” Chillington settled back into his chair on the opposite side of the desk. “I do not want to be culpable.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “Peyton, I don’t like that look in your eyes.”

  Peyton caught himself. His body straightened and his face grew expressionless. “The only thing I’m concerned about is getting this over with as quickly as possible.”

  Chillington waved him away with his hand and Peyton rose from his chair and walked out of the room without a backward glance. He was in control again, and there was no danger he would fail.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat

  Please to put a penny in the old man’s hat;

  If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will do,

  If you haven’t got a ha’penny then God bless you!

  After dinner Persephone paced back and forth in front of the blazing fire, but even its heat could not melt the chill around her heart. Sometimes she thought about the way it had been before.

  Before death.

  Before pain.

  Before fear.

 

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