Gertie grabbed Reanna’s hand, clamping it between both of hers. She brought it up to her mouth, giving it a quick kiss. “Aye. And I be sending some with ye, dove.”
Reanna nodded, and Gertie dropped her hand, turning to disappear into the dark.
Spinning, Reanna took a deep breath, and began to run.
{ Chapter 23 }
“Reanna. Reanna.”
Her name. Someone was calling her name. Killian.
She fought her way out of the darkness, out of the exhaustion from running half the night. A stick in her back, poking her. Something in her mouth. Grass, not hay, not dirt. She was still outside.
Before her eyes could open, she unconsciously began to smooth her hair, then realized the ridiculousness of it. No smoothing of her hair, rat’s nest that it was, was going to help the appearance of a woman shackled to the floor for a month in a crazy house.
Her eyes cracked open and she rolled away from the stick, looking up.
Her arm went over her eyes, shielding them from the bright sun coming down on her. Her eyes went down. Feet. She looked back up.
“Killian?”
The figure moved out of from in front of the bright light, and the sun blinded her.
“No, Reanna. Not Killian.” The figure bent, balancing on his heels.
She turned her head, her cheek resting on the grass. Was that the road she saw?
She blinked hard. She thought she was deep in the woods, well hidden from everything. It was fuzzy with the sun blotch in her eyes, but she definitely saw the shape of a carriage through the trees.
She closed her eyes, disgusted. Apparently, she was really bad at hiding.
The voice cut into her ears. “Killian does not want you, Reanna. He left you in that place.”
Reanna blinked, looking up at the figure, willing her eyes to adjust to the light. She didn’t recognize the voice. Slowly, the face came into focus.
Smiling. Gold tooth.
Nettle.
Reanna closed her eyes.
“Easy or difficult way? Your choice.”
Reanna’s mind went into a flurry. She knew what the difficult way was. And who knew where she would wake up. If she wasn’t knocked out, maybe she could fight her way free when she got her bearings about her.
She opened her mouth, forcing air from her lungs. “Easy.”
“Excellent. I was hoping you would say that. I do not want you bruised.”
The sneer in his voice chilled her spine.
Bloody hell.
~~~
Water splashed onto Reanna’s face.
“Wake up.” Nettle’s voice was in her ear.
Reanna’s eyes flew open at the blast of wet cold.
She realized instantly that this was worse than the last time she woke up after being knocked out. This time her wrists were tied behind her back, a rag was tight across her mouth, cutting into her tongue and tied behind her head, and her eye was pulsating, pain reverberating through her head with the tiniest movement.
Trying to fight her way out of the carriage had not gone well. She wasn’t good at hiding, and she was even worse at fighting. And now she was at the mercy of wherever Nettle had dragged her.
She realized she was on her side on a ratty bed, but only for a moment as Nettle grabbed her and pulled, dropping her to the ill-spaced wood planks on the floor. Cringing into a ball, Reanna gasped through the rag as it jarred her bruised eye, pain overwhelming.
Nettle knelt over her, voice in her ear. “You need to listen hard for Southfork’s voice, Reanna. Listen closely. Closely. I believe it will clear up some delusions you have about your husband.”
Eyes shocked, she turned to Nettle, unable to talk through the rag, but desperate at the same time. Killian was here? She had to get to him. She tried to sit up, avoiding Nettle’s chest in her way.
He pushed her back down.
“Even if he did see you, he wouldn’t recognize you like this, Reanna. You look like a rat catcher. And the things that are crawling all over you. I am going to have to burn my carriage.” His mouth pulled back, menacing. “He does not want you, Reanna. No man does. And you need to hear this, so stop your squirming.”
His hand went over her temple, forcing her head to the wood boards, pressing her ear to the sliver of space between the planks.
~~~
Killian walked into the inn.
Except for the few candles in the two front windows and a few lanterns by the entrance, the place was dark. Dark and empty.
As he surveyed the low-ceilinged room, his hand slipped under the front of his jacket to finger one of his pistols. An old inn, he saw from the outside that it was half-collapsed in the back. He had been told the place was still in business, but someone had clearly been mistaken. There were still chairs surrounding several wooden tables, but beyond that, the bar area looked deserted, no spirits, no glasses.
“You are late, Southfork, and I did not take you as a man who condones tardiness.”
Killian eyed Halstead. He sat on the far end of the room, casual at a table. He had a half-full glass of brown liquid in front of him that he fingered, but did not grasp.
“I arrive when it is convenient for me, Halstead. Be grateful that I am here, even if it is only to allay you of some misconceptions you may have about me.” Killian walked across the room, pulling back a wooden chair and taking a seat opposite Reanna’s father.
Halstead’s fingers moved from the glass, and he settled his hands across his stomach, clasping them. “I have something you want, Southfork, and I know you will pay dearly for it.”
“I assume you speak of my wife?”
“I do. To the point, Southfork, you may have her back when my demands are met.”
Face nonchalant, Killian threaded his fingers in front of his ribs, mimicking Halstead’s posture. “Demands?”
“Yes. Simple, and not too much to ask in the current situation. I merely demand my wealth and status be re-established.”
Killian sighed, shaking his head. “You are assuming, Halstead, that I have not enjoyed this last month without her presence. On that, you would be mistaken.”
A thud from above drew Killian’s attention, his eyes moving upward. “Is someone else here?”
“What? Oh. The noise?” Halstead waved his hand. “No. Not that I know of. This place is abandoned…unless…” His eyes narrowed. “Are you alone as requested?”
“I am.”
Halstead relaxed slowly. “As you were saying, Southfork? My daughter?”
“Frankly, Halstead, I have been reminded that is easier to not have a wife underfoot.”
Halstead laughed. “You were clever before, Southfork, when you ruined me. But you are clever no more. Your activities have been observed since the day Reanna left with me. You are not a man who has forgotten his wife. You are, in fact, a man that has done everything possible to find her. Even now you cannot hide your desperation.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I think you are now ready to negotiate.”
“And you, Halstead, are a man that has made a serious mistake about his current position.” Killian stood and leaned forward, knuckles on the thick oak table, leveraging himself above Halstead. “You can have her, Halstead. She means nothing to me, and you are now the lucky one that can deal with her and her myriad of problems.”
Killian’s words hung thick in the air, and the two stared at each other, seconds ticking by.
With a quick smile, Halstead pushed back from the table, going to his feet. “I am sorry you feel that way, Southfork. It appears my business here is done. I will give your regards to my daughter.”
With a slight nod of his head, he stepped around Killian and walked to the door, whistling.
~~~
“Have you heard enough?” Nettle’s vicious whisper sent hot air into her ear. He loosened his hold on her temple.
Cheek rubbing the wood floor, Reanna nodded. Numbness had set in immediately at Killian’s words. Her whole world had just crum
bled to nothingness, and she couldn’t think past the blinding pain in her head, past her aching heart making it hard to breath.
“Good. I will never hear you speak his name again. Is that understood?”
Nettle gripped her upper arm, yanking her to her feet. She landed, leaning in to him, and he swore, pushing her from his body.
“You are still too filthy to touch in those clothes. We will fix that.”
He yanked her arm, pulling her, stumbling across the floor and down a narrow set of rickety stairs.
Eyes shut tight against the horror in her heart, the reality of what had just happened, Reanna let Nettle lead her out into the darkness.
{ Chapter 24 }
“Stop.”
Killian sank into the round-backed wooden chair, beaten.
In that instant, everything fell away.
Everything, save for the one thing that truly mattered.
“Stop.”
Fingers on the door, Halstead turned back. He approached the table, left eye twitching as he advanced, sniffing the blood in the air. “You have reconsidered?”
“I have.”
“What will you give for her?”
Killian took a deep breath, considering an answer he thought never to have to give. He had thought to get her back on his own accord. To find and save her by his own damn willpower. To not end up at the mercy of her father. What would he give for Reanna? The answer was simple, and he knew it before he took another breath.
“Everything.”
A smile spread across Halstead’s face as he retook his seat across from Killian. “I apparently underplayed my advantage, Southfork. Everything will not be necessary, for I do wish my daughter to be kept in fine fashion.” His hand slipped under his jacket, producing a set of folded documents. He laid them on the table. “I think you will find my terms unfair, but I am not worried on that.”
Halstead stood and went behind the bar, pulling out wax, a quill and ink, as Killian opened the agreement and scanned the papers.
Killian’s face remained set, not hinting at the deplorable words he was reading.
As Killian finished the last page, Halstead walked back to the table and set the wax, ink and quill down by Killian’s hand, and then he sat, fingers entwined under his chin.
Killian looked up at him. “I want her before I sign these.”
“No. You still do not understand your current position, do you, Southfork? You will sign and mark these, and I will produce her. There is no other order of business.”
Jaw clenched, Killian grabbed the quill and set ink to paper.
“I see you have your ring.” Halstead melted the tip of blood red wax, and then pressed it onto the bottom of the document.
“I will get her immediately?”
Halstead nodded. “It is a short ride from here, and she is yours.”
Killian took off his signet ring, and pressed it into the wax. The “S” entwined above the Southfork coat of arms appeared in the wax.
The deal was complete.
~~~
The bit of moonlight helped them travel fast on the roads, and within a half hour, Killian and Halstead were pulling up on their horses in front of a long, three-story stone building. Very little light shined from within.
Dropping from his horse, Killian’s gut started to twist. “What is this place, Halstead?” The threat was clear in his voice.
“It was a safe place for Reanna. You will wait out here.” Halstead started to the main door.
“Like hell I will.” Killian hurried to the door, only a step behind Halstead.
The door swung open before Reanna’s father could hit the knocker, and a small, hunched man appeared, lantern in hand. “Ev’ning, Lord Halstead. We were not expecting ye.”
“No?” Halstead said. “Word was sent that I would be arriving to collect Miss Halstead this eve.”
“Miss Halstead? But I thought ye knew…No?”
Killian pushed Halstead aside, bearing down on the man. “Know what, man? Where is she?”
The man took a step back, cowering. “She escaped last night, sir. Her and the witch. We have not been able to find them.”
“What?” Halstead said from behind Killian.
Killian stepped over the threshold toward the man. “What sort of a place is this? Why would she have to escape?”
“We be an asylum, sir.” His eyes flickered to Halstead and then back to Killian. “For the insane.”
Killian spun in pure rage, his hand encircling Halstead’s throat and shoving him against the wall of stone. “You put her in an insane asylum?”
Grasping Killian’s hand, trying to free himself, Halstead nodded.
“Bastard.” Killian tightened his hold to just shy of crushing the man’s throat. And then, with more control than he ever thought possible, he loosened his hand. “I am going to resist killing you for the instant, Halstead. Resist until we find Reanna.”
Halstead nodded vigorously. “I might know who has her. It was not the plan. But if she escaped and they could not find her, I may know. He was to check on her this morn.”
Killian dropped his hand, breath seething. “You had better, Halstead. You had better.”
~~~
Reanna stood in the room, watching the maid scurry in and out with boiling water to fill the tin tub that had been brought in. She stood, numb, not truly understanding what was happening around her or what she was doing. She just stood.
The tub filled nearly to the rim, the maid stopped.
“I be so sorry ‘e make me do it, miss. The devil ‘e is. So sorry. Please lord, forgive me.”
Reanna gave her no acknowledgment, as the words meant nothing to her. Nothing meant anything to her.
The maid scurried out of the room.
Within a minute, Nettle entered. Head shaking, tongue tsking, he walked across the small room. It wasn’t until he stopped in front of her that Reanna noticed the knife in his hand.
She knew she should feel panic. That a knife in his hand would harm her. But she couldn’t conjure fear. She couldn’t conjure anything in the gaping chasm that was her chest.
“You are disgusting, Reanna. The vermin on you. Your stench. We need to take care of all of that before I am to touch you.”
Reanna kept her eyes on the steel of the blade. As much as her emotions were blank, her mind still worked, and she knew the threat the knife posed.
He stepped closer, keeping his body an arm’s length away from her. Then he reached out, slipping the edge of the knife between her skin and her ragged dress, the peach color now indistinguishable from the dirt.
She didn’t step away, didn’t cower, and Nettle’s eyebrow raised. “No cries for mercy? No begging? Interesting.”
With a swift thrust downward, he cut through the cloth, through her chemise, and the whole of her clothing fell to the floor. His eyes ran up and down her body, and a flicker of disgust shot through Reanna’s stomach. She wasn’t sure she welcomed even the smallest modicum of emotion in this situation. Better to stay numb. To build a wall of indifference so high and wide against what was to happen to her, that nothing could get through.
“Some of you is clean. That is welcome.” He took a step away from her, pointing to the tub with the knife. “Now get in. All of the vermin need to be killed.”
Reanna glanced at the tub. The maid had just left, and she had been filling the tub with boiling water. She eyed the rising steam.
“No.” Her head shook as she found her voice and her arms covered her naked breasts.
“I do not repeat myself, Miss Halstead. That is your only warning.” His mouth pulled back, sneering out vicious words. “Now, get in the tub.”
Reanna took a step backward. “No.”
Growling, Nettle’s arm snaked out, grabbing her by the hair, and he dragged her over to the tub. Reanna clawed at his arm, hellcat awoken. But Nettle easily outweighed her by double, and as disdainful as it was to him, he grabbed her arm, flipping her into the tub.
She broke the water sputtering, and Nettle allowed her a spasm of coughs before he sent her under the water again.
When she finally broke free to the air, he released her, shoving her head as he stepped away.
“That should kill the vermin. And wash with the soap.”
A sudden banging of wood made his head crack upward, ears straining to the door. The bang repeated.
“Blast it,” he muttered, snapping his hand to disperse the water soaking his jacket sleeve. He spun away from Reanna, exiting the room, closing the door behind him.
Her chest draped over the side of the tub, Reanna continued to hack coughs from her body, trying to expel the water in her lungs. Every nerve on fire from the scalding, her feet slipped frantically as she tried to gain footing and push herself out of the water.
With a desperate heave, she flopped over the thin rim of the tin tub. Hitting the floor, she panted, trying to quell the agony that had laced her skin. Every pore throbbed, and she rolled, trying to keep the least amount of her body on the wood floor.
It was in that agony, that she heard Killian’s voice.
No. It couldn’t be. It was her pain speaking insanity in her mind.
But then she heard it again.
Muffled, but she would recognize his voice in the bowels of hell.
He was here for her.
He hadn’t abandoned her.
She opened her mouth to yell, but even in her haze, she knew her scream came out as a whisper. The scalding water had gone down her throat, stealing all sound.
She heard his voice again. But he didn’t sound agitated. Didn’t sound angry. And then a door opened and closed. Struggling to her knees, and then her feet, she tumbled to the window, falling against the windowpane.
In the light of the lanterns in front of the house, she saw two men on horseback, riding away from the house. No. God, no. He was leaving.
She banged on the glass with her palm.
They kept riding away. Reanna’s head spun desperately, searching for something hard. A silver candlestick would have to do.
Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess Page 25