Chasing Eliza

by King, Rebecca

  Eliza felt her stomach drop as she noted the gravity on Edward’s face.

  “Jemima?” She whispered weakly, and listened in horror as Edward carefully recounted what they had discovered on their trip to Leicestershire.

  “Oh God.” Tears pooled in her eyes as she thought of the horrors Jemima was facing and faced. “She couldn’t have done it. That isn’t Jemima. She worked for my father and hated Scraggan and everything he stood for. She wouldn’t rob anyone!” She turned beseeching eyes towards a stunned Peter, who had moved towards the hearth to stare down at the flames silently, as deeply shocked as she was.

  She glanced at each man at the table. Sebastian was staring awkwardly down at his plate, Dominic’s face was filled with bitter regret. Edward’s was laced with abject sympathy as he patted her hand in an almost fatherly manner.

  “She didn’t do it.” Eliza gasped, snatching her hand away from Edward’s and pushing away from the table.

  Edward followed her, grabbing hold of her shoulders and turning her firmly towards him as they stood beside the window.

  “We aren’t saying she did. We are just giving you the facts. We don’t know the exact details and won’t until we get to Derby and find out for ourselves. This is second hand information from one of Peter’s informants. We didn’t take the time to find out if it is accurate, but it is the closest thing we have to a lead right now.”

  Edward shook her once for emphasis, and to snap her out of her horrified daze. He ducked his head until her tear-filled gaze met his and softened his voice as he stared at the depths of horrified grief shadowing her beautiful eyes.

  His heart flipped at the distress he saw there and he wondered how he could ever have considered closing her out of his life. Ignoring the presence of the other men in the room, he tugged her unceremoniously into his arms, resting his chin on her head as she wept into his shoulder.

  “I’ve got to go back to Derbyshire to see what I can do to get her out.” Peter declared flatly, staring at the fire as he tried to quell his racing thoughts. Part of him was overjoyed that she was alive, but he was horrified by the latest turn of events and felt the frantic pull of desperation. He could fight Scraggan and Rogan, but he couldn’t fight the justice system, and if his informant was right and Jemima had already been condemned to death then there was no way out.

  “Look Eliza, you don’t need to know if Jemima has been to Padstow if she is in Derby Gaol. There is no need to go there tomorrow. I think we should all return to Leicestershire now. We can send a message for the men we worked with before to meet us there, and begin to make plans on what to do about Jemima sooner rather than later. Given her dire circumstance we need to take action – and quickly.” Dominic practically bristled with suppressed fury, his tone hard and uncompromising.

  “If she is in Derby Gaol.” Peter shook his head, unsure how to fight that particular dragon. He would move heaven and hell to find her, but he wouldn’t perform miracles and they certainly needed one if Jemima wasn’t going to end her days swinging from a rope.

  “There is something else.” Eliza whispered, easing backwards out of Edward’s arms.

  Wiping the tears from her cheeks she moved back towards the table, aware of the men watching her as she tugged the shirt out of her breeches, and undid the front placket.

  “Do you –.” Sebastian made to push away from the table, unsure where Eliza was heading but knowing his wife would kill him if she knew he had been with another woman who was partly clothed, even with Edward, Dominic and Peter present.

  They watched as Eliza eased a folded piece of parchment out of the waistband of her breeches, and placed it carefully in the middle of the table.

  Edward picked it up and giving her measured look, slowly unfolded it. He swore as he read the contents before raising his eyes to meet hers. He wasn’t certain if he should be annoyed she had kept it from him, or pleased she had managed to keep it out of Scraggan’s reach for so long. Scraggan’s determination to take her alive suddenly made much more sense.

  “Is this what Scraggan could be after?” His voice was harsh as he dropped the parchment onto the table for the others to see. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this before?”

  “Because I couldn’t be certain you weren’t working for Scraggan.” Eliza hiccupped.

  “I fought Scraggan’s men, Eliza!”

  “You don’t know Scraggan and the lengths he would go to. This information would lead him to the gallows for treason.”

  “It’s a list of ships, dates and times.” Dominic murmured, passing the list to Peter to read.

  “What are the codes on the end?” Edward muttered, deliberately putting his anger to one side for now.

  “PP2SS, means Pierre Pascal, 2 men from Salty Sally. Jemima thought the codes up and has a complete list of them. I don’t know who gave my father the list, but he took something to the War Office and left us with these and two other sheets. I had two and Jemima has two.”

  They watched as Eliza withdrew another sheet of folded parchment from the opposite side of her waistband and tossed it onto the table before re-doing her breeches and tucking her shirt back in.

  “A list of contacts. Sweet Jesus.” Peter whispered, staring at the list of names, dates and meeting places. “Who did your father have working for him?” He raised shocked eyes to Eliza. Whoever they were they had been very thorough and knew exactly the kind of information that would cement Scraggan’s downfall. With information like this, there would be more than enough people prepared to bargain for mercy.

  “I don’t know.” Eliza replied. “Father never told us. He said that not knowing would keep us safe but I got the feeling it was someone in the village who knew us. Father didn’t want us to know because he didn’t want us acting strangely around them.”

  “Makes sense.” Edward replied, wondering how their father could have allowed them to remain living so close to such a villain. Any daughter of his would have been immediately removed from the dangers and not allowed to return until safe to do so.

  He paused as the importance of that last thought struck home. When had he begun to think of himself as a future father?

  “So you have the names of the ships, the dates and times of arrival, along with codes and contacts.” Dominic muttered, staring in shock at the papers. “What does Jemima have?”

  “She has the codes, giving exact details of what each shipment entails along with cargo lists and buyers, oh and details of the French spies they have smuggled into the country, who the spies are meeting, where and when etcetera.” Eliza finished in a rush, lapsing into silence as Sebastian whistled in appreciation.

  “So, you and Jemima have full details of the exact cargo Scraggan has been handling, along with his contacts, including human cargo? Its information on his entire network.” Edward murmured as he folded the papers and handed them to a shocked Peter, who was clearly still reeling from the news about Jemima’s dire situation.

  “This makes our return to Leicestershire even more urgent.” Edward declared flatly, wondering if he should kiss her or shake her.

  “I’ll order the horses.” Peter declared, stalking from the room. Now he had a location for Jemima wild horses wouldn’t keep him from going to her. He stalked down the long corridor, his boots ringing loudly on the tiles with a sense of purpose that made everyone step back out of his way.

  Within minutes they were riding out of the stable yard. Using the low slung gate at the back, they wove through the narrow lane at the back of the houses and shops lining the main street, taking a circular route to face north.

  Once in open country there was little opportunity for conversation as their horses galloped swiftly towards home.

  She could barely see straight by the time they pulled into the coaching inn later that night. They had changed horses more times than she cared to count, and had even eaten while riding. Something Eliza had never tried before and certainly didn’t relish doing again.

  Everyone was driven by t
he race to return to Leicestershire and save Jemima from the gallows. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know if they would get there in time, or if the man from the War Office would arrive in time to arrange a pardon, or stay of execution while her guilt was questioned. It was all a jumbled mess that nobody seemed overly confident they could unravel.

  The news of Jemima’s plight weighed heavily on Peter who, with each passing mile, had become increasingly tense and withdrawn. Eliza blocked out the image of her sister with a thick corded rope around her neck with a shudder, and felt hatred burn within her for Scraggan and everything he stood for. The man was pure evil. She could only hope there was some justice in the world and he would one day face his own reward for the evil he had wrought upon the innocent.

  Wearily she dismounted, stumbling on the uneven cobbles. She had to hold on to the saddle for several moments before her legs could hold her weight.

  “Do you want me to carry you?” Sebastian murmured, offering her his arm as though she was a fine lady he was escorting in to dine.

  Eliza took his elbow gratefully, trying not to lean on him too much and shook her head.

  “I’m fine, just a little tired.” She was about to turn back to collect her saddle bag when Edward appeared beside her with it clenched in his hand.

  “We’ll eat and get some sleep. We have another early start tomorrow.” They had made great time and were already further than they had hoped, but everyone knew the dire consequences if they were delayed at all.

  Despite careful checks, and circuitous riding by one of the men every few miles, there was no sign of Scraggan’s men, and that worried Eliza.

  “Why do you think they have stopped following us?” Eliza murmured later that evening when they had finished eating and all sat in thoughtful and weary silence around the table.

  “I think that Scraggan’s waiting for news about Jemima.” Dominic ventured, interrupted by Peter’s snort. “He’s waiting for her to be hung.”

  “Let’s face it, Scraggan put her there.”

  “Jemima wouldn’t murder anyone, or be involved in any highway robbery.” Eliza reaffirmed, not sure if she was trying to convince herself or them. She knew her sister well, but couldn’t quite forget how worried and preoccupied Jemima had been at their last meeting. As though she knew something she wasn’t telling.

  “I think that Scraggan is waiting for you to ride to the rescue and will have men littered around Derby waiting.” Edward muttered. “You simply cannot go there.” His voice was flat with the certainty of his belief and defied argument.

  Eliza stared at him for several moments, contemplating the possibilities before deciding he was right.

  “But he knew I was going to Padstow and was following us there.”

  “He might not know about the hidden papers. He may think you were going there to find Jemima. Once he was sure you were headed in the wrong direction, he was secure in the knowledge that whatever Jemima knows is going to the gallows with her.” He winced at the harshness of his words and apologised.

  “But the men were trying to kidnap me.” Eliza argued, uncomfortable with the complexity of trying to figure out how someone as warped as Scraggan would operate.

  “He wants you for information.” Dominic replied calmly. “I’m sorry we have to discuss things so frankly with you.”

  “It’s alright. We cannot hide from facts and have to discuss it if we have any hope of getting her free.”

  “I think there is still the threat that now you are returning to Leicestershire, you are going to pose a risk to Scraggan’s plan. Especially now we have the papers that will condemn him.” Dominic added, nodding towards the saddlebag.

  He didn’t add that the papers would be a bargaining chip to secure Jemima’s release – if they could get the man from the War Office to meet them in Leicestershire in time.

  “I don’t know about all of you but I am exhausted. I think given how late we were up last night, we all need a good rest.” She pushed away from the table and waited until the men surged to their feet.

  There was an air of nurse maid to her that reminded Sebastian of a nanny that used to look after them when they were boys. She had a do-as-you-are-told briskness about her that brooked no argument. Bidding everyone a rueful goodnight, Sebastian took note of the admiration in Edward’s gaze and with a smirk, did as he was told and headed off to bed.

  Her soft cries in the silence of the night woke him with a jolt. Within seconds he was across the room and bursting through the connecting door, his now loaded pistol drawn in readiness against any attack. He paused to study the room for intruders before his gaze landed on Eliza.

  She was lying in the middle of the bed, her head tossing in distress, ensnared by the nightmare that tormented her.

  Quickly checking the door to the outer corridor was locked, Edward placed his pistol on the small bedside table sat down on the soft mattress.

  “Eliza.” He murmured, gently shaking her shoulder. He frowned when she didn’t respond and continued to mumble and toss her head, tears coursing steadily down her face as she slept.

  “Eliza, wake up darling.” He shook her harder only for her to suddenly cry aloud and sit upright with a jolt.

  He immediately swept an arm around her waist, worried she would jump from her bed in fright only to freeze in shock as her bare breasts brushed the hair on his forearm.

  Eliza lay gasping as images from the horrid nightmare lingered for several moments before reality intruded.

  “You were having a nightmare.” Edward murmured softly, watching as she hiccupped around a sob, and wiped the dampness from her cheeks before becoming aware of her naked state.

  “You’re too late.” He whispered, watching ruefully as she hurriedly tried to tug the blankets upwards to cover her nudity.

  Eliza blushed and mumbled an awkward apology, frowning when he tugged the blankets back down again. She glanced up at him hesitantly, his rejection of a few days ago sharp in her mind.

  Nothing but stoic acceptance and raw need stared back at her. “Edward?” She whispered softly, shivering at the intent on his face as he drew near.

  Their breaths mingled softly for several moments before his lips caught and held hers.

  Her heart beat heavily in her chest as the hard band of his arms swept around her, tugging her closely against the solid wall of his bare chest. The tender tips of her breasts rubbed the coarse hair with sensual anticipation.

  He took advantage of the meagre space between them to slide his hands upwards and into the long tendrils of her hair, holding her head steady for his marauding lips. She moaned softly as his tongue probed deeply into the moist recesses of her mouth. She felt consumed, possessed by his sheer power as he began to use the pressure of his chest to ease her backwards onto the bed.

  “We can’t do this Edward.” Eliza protested softly as her back met the cool sheets.

  “I know. We aren’t going to make love. I want to pleasure you.” He whispered, dropping nipping kisses along her jaw as he leant over her.

  The luscious mounds of her breasts were as soft as they looked, and he groaned softly at the feel of their plush weight against his bare chest. He moaned softly at the delicious sensation of her feminine curves pressing against him and knew he would have to dig deep to find the strength to stop before they went too far.

  “P-pleasure me?” Eliza whispered, not sure if she liked the idea, but his wicked fingers were already creating wonderful sensations against her breast as she was pressed down into the soft bed by his weight.

  “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He whispered huskily, tugging the sheet down and away from her leaving her bare to his rapt gaze.

  She instinctively tried to cover herself, but he would have none of it. Carefully grasping hold of her arms, he tugged them high above her head, holding her wrists together in one loose palm as he eyed the mound of her raised breasts and the glorious dips and hollows of the rest of her.

  Eliza gave he
rself over to the delicious sensations that began to coil low in her belly as he explored her body with his clever fingers and mouth. The only sounds within the room being the crackle and pop of the fire in the hearth, and the soft moans his masterful seduction drew from her.

  She gathered the strength to raise her head and look down at him as he paid homage to her breasts. The sight of his lips on her pale skin, combined with the heat pooling low in her belly made her squirm restlessly in search of something she couldn’t define.

  He knew instinctively what she was asking for. Drawing closer to lie on his side facing her, he tugged her around to lie facing him and draped her leg over his hip, leaving her open to him. It was as far as he dared go without actually lying between her legs and possessing her. He deepened the kiss and tormented her breasts as his fingers sought and found the moist warmth of her.

  Eliza instinctively recoiled against the intrusion of his fingers but he wouldn’t relinquish his hold on her. He swallowed her soft moan and was rewarded for his persistence when she began to move her hips restlessly beneath his hand.

  The delicious feel of her warm body undulating beneath his hand, along with the scent of her was enough to have him gasping. His body ached with the need to possess leaving him with the desperate need to dig deep into his self control.

  “God Eliza, you’re killing me.” He growled, gritting his teeth against the need to possess her.

  “More.” Eliza demanded. She was bathed in a fine sheen of sweat, her sexually charged body burning with desire. It was more than she ever thought possible. He was more than she had ever considered probably. She wanted everything he had to give her and wasn’t going to let him leave her without having the answers she yearned for.

  “Eliza.” Edward whispered, drawing back until his eyes locked with hers. His eyes searched the amber depths, seeking her permission to change her forever.

  “If we make love, there is no going back.” He warned; every fibre of his being locked on her answer.

  “Take me.” She whispered.