Rebecca

by Ferguson, Jo Ann

  She trembled as she drew the blankets around her lacy nightcoat. “I will try, but I was so terrified that much of it is a blur.” Although she wanted to forget, she was the only witness. She must remember every detail to help Rebecca. She repeated the words that the man behind the domino had told her to convey to her brother.

  Nicholas nodded with a grim smile. “It’s as I thought. Rebecca’s abductor must be one of the guests. I still don’t understand why this has happened.”

  “There have been rumors that Rebecca is working for the government of the United States and that she wants to see the monarchy deposed here, Nicholas. That is the reason, it is rumored, that she wanted her school. To indoctrinate the children with her ideas of democracy.”

  He stared at her in astonishment, then laughed. “Rebecca? Trying to topple the British government singlehandedly? That’s absurd! No one would believe that!”

  Softly she said, “I think someone has. Why else would they kidnap her? They must think that you agree. There is no other reason why they would abduct Rebecca. She is Lady Foxbridge, but if it was money or favors they wanted, they would not risk waiting until Saturday before they contacted you. They would want to make the deal quickly.”

  Although he yearned to scoff at her words, she might be correct. All it would take was one craven fool to convince his friends that Rebecca Wythe was a threat, and she would be easy prey. In these strange days, such idiocy could be believed. If Rebecca was in the hands of a madman, then it was all the more reason to find her as swiftly as possible.

  A knock interrupted his thoughts. He opened it to see his mother’s pale face. She was unsteady as she stepped into the room, so he took her arm comfortingly. “Is it true, Nicholas? Is Rebecca gone? Where is Eliza?”

  He nodded. “Eliza is here. Someone disguised as a highwayman stopped the carriage, killed Sims, and rode off with Rebecca.”

  “Killed Sims?” she repeated in shock. The coachman had been at Foxbridge Cloister when she had arrived as a young bride. She could not imagine him being murdered on these quiet country roads.

  “He was trying to protect Rebecca.” His calm was splitting to show the pain beneath his normally unbreachable facade.

  She shook off his hand and crossed the room to gaze down at her daughter. “Are you unharmed, child?”

  “Except for my nerves, Mother. It’s Rebecca we need to worry about.” Eliza’s voice cracked as tears began to slide along her face again. “It was horrible. The man had a gun which he held to her head. Those horrible men took her with them. They are going to hurt her more.”

  Lady Margaret looked at her son compassionately. She sat on the bed and held her devastated daughter in her arms. “What are you going to do, Nicholas? Is there anything I can do to help?”

  In astonishment, he stared at her. Less than an hour ago, she had been defaming his wife. His eyebrows arched with typical insolence. “What do you think I plan to do? I intend to find her. Do you think I am going to leave my wife in the hands of those men?”

  “Don’t look at me like that. Although I truly wish you had married someone other than a Yankee, I never wished Rebecca ill fortune.” She sighed as she finally accepted the inevitable when it might be too late. “As you said, Nicholas, she is your wife. We will do whatever is necessary to get her back safely. What do they want? I hope they aren’t too anxious. It will take a couple of days for us to have the solicitors bring gold from London.”

  “They don’t want money, Mother. Certainly they are in no hurry. They won’t be contacting me until Saturday night at the ball.” He paused in his pacing to stare directly at the two women. “What they want is me, although I have no idea why. Those who I know are my enemies would not be so ungentlemanly to attack me through Rebecca. They would confront me directly. If only I had some clue as to who they were, I might be able to find her before—” A second knock halted him. Irritably, he demanded, “Who is it?”

  “Curtis. Brody told me you were all up here. May I come in?”

  As soon as the door was opened, Eliza propelled herself off the bed into the arms of her sweetheart. He pulled her tight to him as he tried to comfort her. She sobbed with the same strong emotion as she had wept when her brother had discovered her in the coach driven by a dead man.

  Over her head, Curtis glanced at the haggard faces of the other Wythes. “What’s wrong? Where’s Rebecca?”

  “She has been kidnapped,” replied Nicholas shortly.

  “Kidnapped?” His brow furrowed as he regarded the lord with an uneasy half smile. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

  Viciously, the distraught man turned to him. “Do I sound as if I am joking? My wife is in the hands of some madman. That is no reason to joke, Langston!”

  Curtis took a step backwards when facing the fury of the taller man. For a moment, fear shone on his face. It was replaced by sympathy as he looked at Eliza, who clung to him. He took a deep breath before saying, “Excuse me, Nicholas. That was an unforgivably crass remark. It’s just that this situation is hard to believe. Why Rebecca?”

  “I have been asking myself exactly the same thing. I would guess it is to get to me. Rebecca has no enemies who would be involved with something like this.” He did not need to clarify his statement. He considered his wife’s only enemy to be a jealous Clarisse Beckwith. Suddenly his shoulders sagged. The pressure was growing too intense. “I’m going to our rooms to do some thinking. I must get Rebecca home safely. If you will excuse me …”

  Margaret came over and put her arms around her son. Tears bubbled from the corners of her eyes. “She’ll be all right, Nicholas. Rebecca is strong. She will fight them.”

  With horror blatant on his face, he asked, “But don’t you see that is what I fear most? Rebecca will fight them, and they will retaliate by hurting her.” He paid no attention to his sister’s strangled gasp. “Don’t wait supper for me.”

  “Rest, son. She will be in our prayers.”

  He nodded. Silently, he went down the hall to the suite which belonged to the lord of Foxbridge Cloister and his lady. He closed the heavy door and gazed across the sitting room toward the fireplace. By the chair where Rebecca sat in the evenings were her papers and books she used to prepare lessons for her little school, which had fueled rumors leading to this insanity. Her slippers peeked from under a chair. She had kicked them off last night when their kisses had lured them into bed.

  With a moan, he walked into the bedroom. On the bed, her nightgown waited. His hands wrapped around the massive upright of the tester as he leaned his head against it. If he closed his eyes, he could hear her light laugh and see her sparkling eyes as she ran to embrace him. He could visualize her face below his lost in the passion they shared. Another image flashed through his mind as he recalled her sleeping next to him, her dark hair a cloud upon the white pillowcase and her body curled against his.

  For the first time since they had consummated their marriage and discovered the depth of their love, he would sleep without Rebecca at his side. He sighed as he tried to keep the sorrow deep inside him. At first light, he would be searching for the woman he loved. He would be wide awake at dawn, for he would not be sleeping at all tonight. He could hope only that clues to Rebecca’s whereabouts would be less elusive than sleep through this tortured night.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rebecca was not surprised that her captor returned the next morning soon after the waters receded from the mouth of the cave. She did not know whether to be pleased or not when he came with another. For a moment, she had to be happy simply because he had come back. It would have been so easy for him to abandon her. Easy, but she knew he wanted to enjoy her torture. She was less fearful of the upcoming interview with another to watch. Surely he would not abuse her so violently when one of his men witnessed it. Then she was not so certain. These animals most likely would enjoy seeing one of their number hurt her.

  As she watched them walk along the long passage from the beach, she wondered why he had
brought the other man with him. He had proven that he could control her effectively by himself. The reason became obvious when the leader drew his pistol and trained it on her as the second man pushed the plank back into place.

  He laughed as he saw her expression. “Just in case you got the idea that you could knock me off when I cross, Rebecca. It wouldn’t be very smart to do that. No one but my men and I know where you are. How long do you think it would take you to starve to death if you sent us to our deaths?”

  Stubbornly, she refused to answer. She would not delight this man by showing her fear. Through the night, as the candle burned lower and lower, she had wondered if he truly would come back and bring her more food and light. She knew how small her chances of survival were whether her captor lived or died. She had sat on the hard bed and watched the tidal waters advance slowly along the floor to the rim of the crevice where the man with the gun now stood. As water filled the entrance to the cave far down the tunnel, night had taken over her world. By the time the waters began to recede, she had known that she had to find a way to escape before this man found time to kill her. He would never let her go back to Nicholas with her tale of abuse.

  Only the leader came across the plank. When he was on her side, he signaled his companion to wait for him outside the cave. He tossed a pair of food packages and a canister of water on her bed and placed several candles on the table. When she continued to ignore him, he took her arm and spun her to face him.

  She could not see his appreciative smile as he stared at his lovely captive. Even though her gown was dirtied and her hair tangled, she looked as lovely as when he had pulled her from the Foxbridge carriage. For the first time, she was his to enjoy as he wished. He had been waiting a long time for the opportunity to have this woman for his own. Without the imposing Lord Foxbridge to protect her, she would be easy prey when he chose to take her sweet softness.

  He twisted her arm painfully behind her and was pleased to hear her involuntary mew of pain. “Not even a thank-you for your provisions, Rebecca? Don’t they teach you better manners than that in the colonies?”

  Her blue eyes rose to meet his. In her cold stare, there was no sign of the terror she had experienced for the last eighteen hours. He shifted his eyes away, unable to meet her unrelenting gaze for long. With a curse, he pushed her toward the bed.

  “Play games with me, Rebecca, and you will be sorry. I hope you can take orders better than that foolish husband of yours. He is trying to find your trail, but he is unlikely to trace you here. Even if he gets as far as where we were in the forest, all the hoofprints going in multiple directions will confuse him. Of course, our way was disguised very well, first by the rocks over our heads, then by the waves which so neatly washed away the prints of the horse we rode here.” He laughed his maniacal laugh. “Don’t worry, my dear Lady Foxbridge. If he gets close to your little hideaway, you will know about it.” Putting his hands around her neck, he said, “It will be the very last thing you know.”

  Her hands reached up to grab his wrists as he slowly tightened his grip on her throat. For the first time, the fear she felt was visible on her face. Rebecca clawed at his arms as he forced her back onto the cot. Before her eyes, his cloth-covered face steadily turned into a blur. The sound of the rushing ocean waves filled her ears as she lost consciousness.

  The first thing she heard when she opened her eyes was her warder’s chuckle. She looked up into the mask which hid his face from her. Involuntarily, she cried out in denial as his fingers brushed the bare skin above the neckline of her gown. Although bright speckles of light danced before her eyes, she sat and backed away from him. Pressing against the clammy wall, she stared up at him in horror. She could not see the rest of his face, but his eyes told her of his lust for her.

  When he reached for her, his hands were not hidden by the riding gloves he had worn for her abduction. She screamed. He did not touch her. Instead he picked up the pendant Nicholas had given her the previous day. With a sharp tug, he ripped it from her neck. Her hands stretched out to take it back, but he slapped them away.

  “Is this precious, Lady Foxbridge?”

  As he waved it before her, she tried to grasp it again. He kept it just beyond her fingers. Frustration raised her voice as she ordered, “Give it back. It isn’t valuable, except to me.”

  “To you and Lord Foxbridge, do you mean? He would know it was yours, wouldn’t he?”

  “Yes,” she admitted slowly. “Nicholas gave it to me. Sir, it has no real worth. Give it to me.”

  He laughed and tossed it lightly in the air. When he caught it, he secured it in an inner pocket of his coat. “I think I will see it is returned to Lord Foxbridge. As I said, he is ignoring my instructions. Luckily for you, my dear, you were wearing this. I will send this to him as a warning. I would have hated to maim your pretty body.”

  “You won’t intimidate Nicholas!” she asserted.

  “I think you are wrong, my lady. When this bit of gold is returned to his lordship with its accompanying note, I think I will soon be reporting to you that Nicholas Wythe is being much more patient. The note will tell him that if he continues to disregard my orders, he will be given more of your jewelry next time.” He picked up her left hand. “I will send him your wedding band with your slender finger still wearing it.”

  In disgust, she pulled away. Her brow furrowed as he turned to the table where the candle burned brightly. When he blew it out to enwrap them in darkness, she blindly tried to rise from the bed. She did not need to guess what he intended to do to her. She knew.

  He grasped her shoulders and pressed her to the thin mattress. Her cries of protest were silenced as he put his mouth over hers. In the deep gloom, he did not worry about her seeing his face well enough to recognize him in the light, so he had removed his mask. His lips held hers captive.

  Fighting her revulsion, she lifted her hands to slide them along his arms. She must have any clue to learn the identity of the man who had imprisoned her. When his tongue forced its way into her mouth, she struggled not to gag. At the same time, her fingers stroked the surf-dampened strands of his stylishly long hair. Slowly, she drew her hands forward. If she could touch his face, she might be able to discern some feature to solve the mystery.

  As her fingertips rested on his cheeks, his broad hand came up to wrap around both of them. In one smooth motion, he pulled them to rest on the pillow over her head. “You will never learn, will you, Rebecca?” he growled. “I’m beginning to lose patience with you. You are nowhere near as clever as you seem to think you are. I enjoyed your sweet touch, my lady, although I discerned immediately what you planned. Learn to behave, or you will have more harsh lessons than this one.”

  She cried out as he struck her viciously. Something sharp cut into her cheek, and a flash of pain seared through her. She forgot it when his hand grasped the top of her gown’s bodice and ripped it to reveal the whiteness of her chemise which glowed ghostly in the dark. His body imprisoned her as she struggled to avoid his fingers slipping beneath her camisole to caress her. With her hands held securely over her head, she could not push him away. Not releasing her, he bent to place his mouth against her bared skin as his hand raised her full skirts to allow him to stroke her legs.

  She moaned in complete horror. The love she had shared with Nicholas made this man’s pawing even more disgusting. As his mouth moved with leisurely appreciation along the curve of her breast, her fingers clenched in impotent fury.

  When his fingers encountered the scars on her right leg, he murmured against her skin, “It is a pity that your perfect body was maimed. How lucky for me that you weren’t killed that day! I wouldn’t have had this opportunity to enjoy you.”

  She spat a curse at him, and he laughed. When his mouth touched her skin again, it was not gentle, and she cried out in pain. This was his greatest perversion, for he made the motions which should be loving into a vehicle for his revenge against her and her husband for some unknown crime.

 
The man sat and relit the candle. When she realized, with astonishment, that he was not going to rape her immediately, she saw his mask was firmly in place once more. Her hands held closed the tatters of her gown. Not that it mattered, for he had explored her body well enough to know what was hidden beneath her clothes.

  “You’re fun to play with, Rebecca,” he taunted. “We shall have a lot of fun after I take care of your lord husband.” His hand caressed her bruised skin where his cruelty had injured her.

  “Why?” she gasped as she brushed tears from her eyes. “Why are you doing this to us? Why do you hate Nicholas and me so much?”

  His fingers touched her face again lightly. He frowned as he saw the cut on her cheek and knew it had happened when he had struck her. As he had done the day before, lifting his mask slightly, he kissed the bloodstains which discolored her face. He laughed maliciously as she flinched away.

  “I certainly don’t hate you, Rebecca. If things had been different, I would have liked to be your very good friend. You have all the attributes of a fine mistress. It was unfortunate for you that Lord Foxbridge decided to take a Yankee bride. Although it will be a shame to destroy you, it is, I am afraid, ultimately necessary. Be a good girl, my lady, and perhaps I will let you view your husband’s demise.”

  “No! You can’t kill Nicholas!” She was willing to prostitute herself in any manner this man wanted, to save her husband’s life. “Please, sir, do not kill Nicholas. I beg for you to reconsider this plot you have embarked upon. I will do whatever you wish if you will spare him. I will become your mistress if you want. I will get you money if that is what you want. I will perjure myself to keep you from paying for this crime. Anything, as long as you don’t hurt Nicholas.”

  “Rebecca,” he said, sadistically, “you will do anything I want you to do anyway. You don’t seem able to understand that you are mine now. I don’t need to bargain with you to obtain what I want from you. What I want from Lord Foxbridge is his life. That you will get for me also.”