Chasing Eliza

by King, Rebecca

  Snapping out of her horrified trance, she watched as yet another man appeared in the doorway. Edward was still engrossed in his new skirmish and hadn’t yet seen the new arrival. Eliza immediately moved to the side of her horse and mounted. Within seconds, scabbard pointed, she kicked her horse forwards blocking the space between Edward and the new arrival. Kicking out with her booted heel, watched as the big man fell to the ground with a thud. Grabbing hold of Edward’s horse, she led the horses outside and scanned the area for anyone else. Not that she would be able to do anything against a man with a cutlass, but she could at least warn Edward.

  Within seconds he appeared, dishevelled and bleeding from his lip beside her.

  “Let’s go.” He snapped, swinging his horse around. Unsure what he had planned, Eliza followed, keeping as close to his horse as possible. She watched as Edward took off through the woods, clearly expecting her to follow.

  A natural haven that was teeming with wildlife; the ground beneath was rough and uneven, littered with fallen branches, twigs and foliage. Eliza found the fast gallop was difficult to sustain and unfortunately despite trying, so did her horse. With a loud squeal, her horse tripped over a hidden branch and fell onto the floor with a heavy thud. The steep bank beside them was too much for the frightened, unbalanced horse to avoid and it began to roll downwards towards the stream in a tangle of legs. Eliza didn’t have time to scream as the heavy weight of the horse rolled over her, pushing her deep into the soft forest floor. It landed at the bottom of the stream with a splash and didn’t get up again.

  Eliza lay spread-eagled on the floor, the pain in her ribs and arm unbearable for several moments as she waited for her breath to return. Stars danced remorselessly before her eyes as she gazed upwards at the dark thunder clouds high above. As she lay motionless, she felt the steady splash of raindrops on her face as the drizzle began to fall.

  She wondered briefly just how much worse the day could get.

  Silence descended and she slowly turned her head to study the area around her. The stream at the base of the grass bank was shallow and trickling slowly, its cheery tinkling in stark contrast to the heavy rumbling of the skies above. Even the birds had fallen silent, leaving the only other sounds to be the rustling of the leaves in the trees and the occasional whisper of the winds.

  “Eliza?” Edward’s voice was a vague echo through the silence.

  She didn’t know how many of Scraggan’s men were nearby. She had been so intent on getting through the woods and away from the assailants she hadn’t dared glance backwards, instead assuming there were more, close behind. She glanced down at her now still horse and felt a pang of remorse. She shouldn’t have pushed it so hard, in such dangerous territory. Clearly Edward was more used to riding in such rough terrain.

  As shock began to fade, pain replaced it.

  “Good God, are you alright?” Edward slipped and slid down the sodden bank towards her, digging his heels into the soft earth when he reached her side to stop himself landing on top of her.

  Eliza couldn’t find the words to reply and instead lay gazing up at him as he leant over her, his face tense with concern.

  “Eliza? Talk to me.” His voice was harsh and commanding as he swept his worried gaze over her, looking for blood or any obvious injuries.

  “I hurt.” She whispered as a wave of pain swept through her when she tried to move her arm. “My arm.” She gasped, blinking rapidly against the swirling mass of blackness that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “Do you think it’s broken?” Edward murmured, glancing at the arm furthest away from him as he leant over her. Even from where he knelt, he could see the uneven lump that was forming on her bruised flesh and cursed fluidly. He glanced at the steep bank behind them before flicking a look at her unmoving horse, trying to gauge how far she had fallen and what the likely injuries to the rest of her could be.

  “Can you stand?” He glanced down into her pale face, sensing the pain she was trying not to show.

  “I think so.” She shot him a trembling smile as she tried to sit upright, puffing out her cheeks at the dull throbbing in her side as her ribs protested to the movement.

  Edward helped her onto her wobbly legs, and waited patiently until she could stand without swaying. He studied the trees at the top of the bank, searching for any signs of their pursuers before turning back towards her.

  “If you feel up to it, let’s get out of here.” He gave her his arm and helped her pick her way down the stream towards the less steep slope to his waiting horse.

  By the time she was sitting on his horse, wrapped in the safety of his arms, Eliza was pale and trembling. The pain was unbearable but she couldn’t voice it. If they had any chance of survival, she knew they had to get out of the area and that meant ignoring any discomfort. Their survival depended on her bravery.

  “How far are we from Huntingdon?” She murmured, trying anything to take her mind off the increasing pain in her arm. With each thud of the horse’s hooves her arm jolted, heightening the stabbing sensations across her forearm. She gritted her teeth and studied the rolling landscape around them blankly.

  “It is about three or four hours away. We won’t get there today, so we will have to find somewhere to stay overnight.” Edward took a moment to study the area behind them, not convinced that there wasn’t someone following them. The small country lane they were travelling on had low slung hedges on either side of them, and very little else. Although they weren’t protected, nobody could creep up on them without being seen either. He was fairly certain they were safe for now

  “Why can’t we get there today?” Eliza queried with a frown. She was thoroughly sick and tired of spending days on a horse and wondered how Edward bore it.

  “It’s too far to ride with your injuries. You need to see a doctor.” He hadn’t missed the fine sheen of perspiration on her forehead. Not a sign of heat, but a sign of her intense pain. The fine lines bracketing her mouth were gradually getting deeper as they made their way to the meeting point. Edward mentally cursed his own abilities. He should have been keeping an eye on her and had failed miserably. He had been some distance away before he had realised she wasn’t behind him. The sheer panic that had engulfed him had been horrifying. The return journey, although unchallenged, had been fraught with tension and worry.

  Tension and worry that hadn’t abated now he knew she was safe and well. He frowned down at her and studied her arm now it was considerably closer. Although the lump hadn’t gotten any bigger, it hadn’t reduced in size either and that was worrying.

  “We need to get out of this blasted rain.” He grumbled glancing upwards and cursing the Gods for the latest cruel trick. Clearly she was in discomfort and there was deuced all he could do about it. Now she was soaking wet and risked catching a chill. It was imperative he find somewhere warm and dry, and quickly.

  “I vote we carry on and get to the meeting place Edward.” Eliza couldn’t bear the silence between them any longer. She felt him tense to argue and continued. “I cannot stomach the thought of another night sitting in a ramshackle old shed. We are already wet, so cannot get any wetter. There is nothing to lose.”

  “You need to rest and get a doctor to look at that arm.” Edward argued, acknowledging the wisdom of her suggestion but reluctant to put her through any more pain than necessary.

  “I will, as soon as we get to the meeting place.” Eliza turned forwards and blinked back the wave of sickness that threatened.

  She hadn’t eaten anything so had nothing in her stomach to lose. She mused, trying to relax into the rhythm of the horse beneath them.

  “If you are sure, then we will carry on.” Edward relented finally. “But if you do feel that you need to rest I want you to promise me that you will tell me.”

  Eliza nodded reluctantly, knowing he meant well and was most probably right. If she did become ill then she wouldn’t be able to make the journey to Padstow. It was a possibility she couldn’t countenance.

&n
bsp; “I’ll be fine.” She reassured him.

  The journey seemed endless to both of them. Edward heaved a silent prayer of thanks heavenwards as they moved through the milling throng on the bustling main thoroughfare, in Huntingdon towards the Hare and Hound. He had been there numerous times, and knew the innkeeper well to be confident of the man’s silence – and support if Scraggan appeared.

  Eliza had been quiet for some time and he wondered if she had gone to sleep. Clearly she was exhausted and shocked from her near-death experience. It had all caught up with her and her overwhelmed senses had shut down.

  Gently he twitched his shoulder.

  Nothing.

  “Eliza?” He murmured softly, kissing the top of her head gently.

  “Eliza, wake up darling.”

  “Eliza?” He frowned when she moved against his shoulder but made no move to reply.

  “Wake up for me darling.” Eliza didn’t move and he tipped his head down until he could see her face. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow, but there was no twitching of her eyelids to show she was even aware he was there. This was no sleep.

  Fear began to claw at him as he finally saw the swinging sign above the large Jacobean structure that was the Hare and Hound. With the end in sight, he nudged his horse forwards and within moments drew to a halt in the stable yard.

  Sliding off the horse, he drew Eliza’s limp form into his arms, shouting orders for the ostler to get a doctor before striding into the inn.

  “Edward?”

  Edward turned at the sound of the blessedly familiar voice and heaved a sigh of relief as Peter strode towards him.

  “Peter, thank God.” He sighed. “Did you secure rooms for us?”

  “Everything’s all sorted.” Dominic replied, ushering them towards the stairs.

  “Jemima?” Peter’s voice was shocked as he stared at the woman in Edward’s arms.

  Edward froze. His stomach sank to his boots as he stared at the mixture of shock and delight on Peter’s face. Slowly his gaze lowered to the unconscious woman in his arms and felt a sense of betrayal so deep he wanted to shout out a gut-wrenching denial.

  He glanced up in horror at Peter as he drew near.

  “Please tell me this isn’t Jemima?” Everything within him was locked on Peter’s face as he waited for the inevitable response. His world tipped in turmoil as the horrendous possibility of having to hand her over to Peter and stand back loomed menacingly before him. Briefly he hated Peter for his hold on her.

  “It’s Jemima.” Peter whispered, his voice filled with emotion as he stared down at the woman Edward was holding.

  Edward felt sick and stared in disbelief at his friend, feeling his heart break.

  “Let’s get her upstairs.” Dominic suggested moving forwards to stare down at the haunting beauty Edward carried. He was unsure what was going on but the pain both men were experiencing was clear to see, and he was unwilling to allow either Peter or Edward to put on any more of a show for the tap room’s occupants.

  Edward climbed the stairs, glad for the brief opportunity to try to get his stunned emotions under control. He protectively curled his arms around the woman he held, pulling her tight against his heart, and wondered if he should just hold on to her and refuse to allow Peter near. He stood silently and watched Peter swing a door open before standing back for Edward to pass through with his precious burden.

  Inside the small, yet clean room Edward placed Eliza – Jemima - on the bed and slowly withdrew his arms from around her. The bitter pang of regret that stole through him as he put distance between them shook him to his very soul. He hadn’t wanted to feel so deeply about anyone – especially the woman on the bed, but despite his best intentions she had more of an impact on him than he had realised. Not only did he have strong suspicions he was in love with her, she now belonged to the man standing on the opposite side of the bed. The knowledge brought physical hurt that threatened to unman him.

  His face was carved in stone as he stood on the opposite side of the bed and watched Peter study her face closely, a frown on his face. Dominic and Sebastian entered the room and moved to stand at the end of the bed, watching Peter in consternation.

  “What is it?” Dominic demanded, his voice sharp.

  “This isn’t Jemima.” Peter’s voice was a stark whisper in the silence of the room, laced with disappointment and confusion.

  “What?” Edward snapped, raising surprised eyes to meet Peter’s.

  “She looks so much like Jemima it is startling, but Jemima had a small cut above her right eye – here – that she got as a child. This woman doesn’t have any cut. See?” Peter gently lifted a curled tendril of hair of her unmarked brow.

  “She is Eliza, the younger sister to your Jemima.” Edward replied softly, shaken by the force of relief that that swept through him.

  “Where did you find her?” Peter questioned, studying the emotions on Edward’s face in understanding.

  “Derby.” Edward replied, arching his back against the fierce ache there. Now he had stopped, his muscles were protesting against the strain of the past few days. He could sense Peter’s next question. “Jemima disappeared from there two weeks ago.”

  They were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

  Moments later Dominic motioned the small man enter and after Edward gave him details of the accident they left to wait for his diagnosis. Within moments he was being ushered out, secure in the knowledge that she was at least receiving the medical care she needed, and she was indeed who she said she was. Everything else suddenly didn’t seem all that important.

  While waiting for the doctor’s diagnosis, Edward spent an hour bringing his brothers up to date on events so far. The wave of relief when the doctor reported that apart from deep bruising Eliza was fine had shook him to the core and he found himself making his excuses, desperately needing several moments alone to deal with his shattered emotions.

  Edward slipped down into the steaming water of a long awaited bath with a huge sigh of pleasure. His protesting muscles began to soften as the silken glide of the water began to soothe the aching flesh. Although his flesh was relaxed, his mind was a raging torrent of emotions he struggled to make sense of.

  He tried not to think of his first few minutes in the inn; loathed to consider those grief-stricken moments when he had thought she belonged to another. The pain had been so sharp it had threatened to buckle his knees.

  He considered the events of the past few days, and wondered if he really could rely upon his feelings for her. After all he was a man; a gentleman who had been taught to look after those weaker than him. He knew the dangers she faced. It was inevitable that he should feel a deep protectiveness towards her. He had done nothing over the past few days he wouldn’t have done for Amelia and Izzy, and he cared for them without being deeply in love with them. It was the safe with Eliza, wasn’t it?

  He scowled and sank deep into the tub until his head was beneath the water. Holding his breath for as long as he could while he tried to reason out the fierce ache that had settled in the middle of his chest. He had done what he promised and delivered her to Peter. He could go on his way now, knowing she was going to be well looked after. His emotions were purely due to nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction to living with her in such close quarters and facing constant danger together. Nothing more.

  She was beautiful, that was without question. The image of her near nakedness sitting across the table swam to the forefront of his mind and his body hardened in readiness. It was inevitable that he would physically desire such an attractive woman, especially given she was the only female in the vicinity, but was love driving him? Or the need to take and possess what he had so readily fought for?

  Surging out of the water, he gasped and shook water out of his eyes, staring at the wall as he considered what he actually wanted out of life. He still wasn’t comfortable with the prospect but at some point in his life he would have to marry. He was Earl to a title and wo
uld have to see to the continuation of the Earldom and estates. Would it be so bad being married to someone like Eliza?

  She was brave. She had faced the ordeal of the past few days with a stoical calm and endless fortitude that was impressive. She hadn’t screamed and swooned; she had gritted her teeth and endured everything that had been thrown at her. He was incredibly lucky that she had been beside him. The men he had faced would have overwhelmed him with anyone less logical, less cool in the face of adversity.

  Edward scowled at the wall and considered the turmoil rumbling within him. Having any woman throw his own wants and needs into confusion was everything he had intended to avoid. He shouldn’t be surprised or perplexed that Eliza had brought such trouble into his life; she was a female after all. A small part of him resented her for having such a profound effect on him seemingly without trying. She was fast asleep on the huge bed, oblivious to his emotional confusion.

  If he remained with the group and escorted her to Padstow, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. They would undoubtedly make love and the question of marriage would be a mute point; they would be expected to marry regardless of emotions being engaged, or reality of their suitability. His brothers had already assumed that he had bedded Eliza, and hadn’t bothered to question whether they should share a room having only hired four rooms in one wing of the inn.

  Although he cared about her, he couldn’t be certain it was love and more importantly love that was strong enough to make him want to spend the rest of his life with her. The circumstances over the past few days had made it impossible to really get to know her, but it was impossible to keep any distance between them given their sleeping arrangements.

  It really left him with only one option.

  He ran a weary hand down his face and wondered if he had the strength to ride away and leave her.