Chasing Eliza

by King, Rebecca

  “You’re good.” Rogan murmured softly. “But you won’t be if you don’t stop playing games.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Eliza felt her temper begin to fray.

  Her thoughts turned to Edward and she immediately felt calmness settle over her. The mere thought of the man who held her heart made her feel a security that belied the seriousness of her situation.

  “You can blade me Rogan. You can scream, shout and threaten me with whatever you want, but I don’t have any papers.” She raised a hand when Rogan took a breath to interrupt. “I don’t have any idea you are talking about. Threatening me with anything won’t make the information you want magically appear. I don’t have it.”

  “Then what were you doing in Padstow?” Rogan snapped, drawing back and lowering his scabbard.

  Eliza could see no reason not to give him a carefully edited version of the truth. “I lost contact with Jemima while I was living in Derby. She didn’t meet me as promised. When Jemima and I decided to leave Padstow we agreed that if we lost contact with each other, we would go home and leave a note giving details of where we had gone. When I couldn’t find Jemima, I had to go to Padstow to see if she had me left a note.” She glared at Rogan accusingly and didn’t add that she didn’t actually make it to Padstow. Clearly the reports he had received hadn’t been as accurate as he thought. “I had no idea at the time that you had set her up and she was awaiting death in Derby Gaol.”

  She heaved a sigh of relief when Rogan reluctantly accepted her explanation. He was clearly considering what to do next and sat studying her thoughtfully for several moments.

  “She was very easy to set up in the end. Fell for it hook, line and sinker.” Rogan’s arrogance got the better of him and he was clearly driven by the need to boast about his cleverness.

  “Fell for what?” Her heart hammered in her chest. She stared in horror at the man opposite, hatred filling her breast for his callous disregard of her sister’s life.

  “We told her we had you. If she wanted you to survive she had to meet us at a certain time and place.”

  “You held up the coach carrying the Mayor of Derby and his wife.” She accused, feeling sick to her stomach as she started the wicked blade he was toying with.

  “Killed ‘em both, stole their stuff and set up Jemima for their murder while we were at it. Worked like a charm.”

  “But the men you set up with Jemima. They weren’t all tricked to, surely?”

  She scowled across the small clearing at him, all thoughts of escaping forgotten for the time being as she listened in rapt horror to his version of events. She knew they were the truth, Jemima had said so.

  “They were useless.” Rogan spat. “We sent them to find you. Ha! They couldn’t find the bloody noses on the end of their faces. So we told them they either went along with the plan and went to jailed for their crimes, after a while they would be let out – call it a punishment of sorts, meted out by justice.” He sniggered at his own cleverness.

  “You didn’t tell them they would be going to jail for murder and face hanging.” She didn’t require his confirmation, it was there in the satisfied glint in his eyes.

  “You forgot one thing.” Her voice was deadly calm. She knew he was trying to worry her by toying with his blade but refused to let him see just how frightened she was of both.

  “When you saw Jemima executed you forgot that the information she had was already on its way to the people who are going to bring you down.”

  She felt a certain satisfaction as she watched Rogan go rigid as the reality of being too late dawned on him.

  “By killing her, you made sure that she couldn’t tell you who she sent the information to. I know Papa went to see someone in the War Office – he and Jemima had contacts there. But I don’t know who they were. You forgot to find out just who Jemima sent her papers to because there is one thing for certain.” She paused, her eyes locked with this as she drove her success home. “You have no idea now just who in authority knows about you and your father’s activities, what information they do have, and who the informants are that are still betraying you.”

  Her heart somersaulted in her chest as she stared directly into the cold, hard eyes of Scraggan’s son and knew he was indeed a chip off the old block. His heart was as black and twisted as his father’s. There was no reaction other than a steady, blank stare for several minutes that left goose bumps on her skin. Eventually he seemed to snap out of his daze and he blinked several times apparently absorbing her words.

  “Do you really think you can kill repeatedly and never face justice? Killing me will only add to the list of your crimes.” She kept her eyes averted as Rogan stood and moved several paces away. She kept talking regardless, knowing she had his attention from his sudden restlessness. “You have made great enemies not only in Edward, but also Peter and their contacts in the War Office. But you have bigger problems than that Rogan. You have a viper in your midst and at the moment you have no idea who.”

  She couldn’t keep the malice from her voice. It was the least he deserved given he was responsible for putting Jemima at the gallows. She hated him and could feel no mercy in her heart.

  “Shut up!” Rogan spat, his temper clearly rising.

  Eliza felt a strange calm settle over her. She couldn’t detect any movement around them, but for some vague reason she wanted to look over her shoulder. Some level of awareness beckoned and warned her that there was someone nearby.

  Her heart lurched and she wondered briefly if it was Edward, but immediately quashed the idea. After all, she hadn’t heard any movement indicating the arrival of anyone – even the horses had been quietly undisturbed, steadily grazing in the small meadow beyond the trees.

  “I’m just stating facts.” Eliza continued, refusing to back down or be ordered around by him. “You are being betrayed to an extent that your days of running rife are numbered; for both you and your father. Have you heard from him lately?” Her voice was almost conversational.

  “Shut up, I said!” Rogan shouted, his face had lost the blank look and was now reddened with fury.

  Eliza knew she had struck a nerve. She didn’t know why she felt the urge to keep prodding him.

  It was a little like poking a wasp nest with a stick. At some point you know you are going to get stung, but you keep poking anyway just to see what will happen.

  She wondered what Rogan would do now.

  “I’m just saying.” She argued, wondering what Rogan would do now. “If you are going to kill people around you, then you have to understand that at some point people are going to do what they can to stop you.”

  “I said shut up!” Rogan bellowed, stomping across the clearing towards her. Her hair was yanked painfully, her head dragged backwards as the blade of his wicked looking knife dug into the tender flesh of her throat. In a brief moment Eliza wondered if she was facing the final few moments of her life. Although she was relatively calm about facing death, her only regret about losing her life so soon was that she had never told Edward how much she loves him.

  “I don’t expect to hear anything from you until you are told. Understand?” He bit out, anger practically vibrating from him.

  Eliza daren’t push him any further and heaved a shaken sigh of relief when he stomped away. He shot her one last filthy glare as he moved to the opposite side of the camp, pacing backwards and forwards in his agitation. He stopped only to give one of the men standing in the trees a quiet order before resuming his seat with such calmness every nerve within her jangled in alarm. The sudden change in him was unnerving.

  Silence settled over the camp for several moments. Unnatural silence. As she sat on the wobbly stone she took the time to study the camp. She was relatively certain that there had been three or four men on the far side of the fire pit, standing just inside the protection of the trees. They weren’t there now.

  The other two men standing just on the edge of the meadow further away had also gone. Were they meetin
g up somewhere in preparation to move on? Or were they being systematically taken out one-by-one?

  She watched in concern as the man returned leading a huge horse on a piece of rope.

  “Time to go.” Rogan moved to stand before her, a glint of satisfaction in his eye as he dragged her roughly to her feet.

  Eliza eyed the beast warily and dug her heels in as she was dragged towards it. She squealed in alarm as a rope was suddenly draped around her neck and she stared in horror at the horse as realisation dawned.

  Everything within her froze as the cold reality of what they were about to do dawned on her. Panic rose as the coarse fibres of the twine scratched her tender flesh and fought with everything in her as they tried to get her onto the horse’s back.

  Was this what Jemima had been through? She didn’t know what was worse. Being in woods, cold and alone with no hope of salvation or being hung by an expert, with people nearby to hang off your legs and break your neck to quicken your death.

  “You can’t do this.” Eliza shouted, feeling sick as she stared death in the face. Frantically her eyes searched the clearing for any signs of Edward or Peter, but she could see nothing but leaves and trees. She could hear nothing but the soft rustling of leaves in the thick canopy high above and the soft snuffle of the horse chosen to carry her to death.

  “Oh I think you will find I can.” Rogan’s voice was merciless as he pushed her upwards.

  She kicked and struggled, ignoring Rogan’s biting orders and vociferous cursing and fought for her life. Briefly she thought she had won as Rogan suddenly stopped trying to push and appeared before her. Hopes were wildly dashed as she was smacked harshly across the face, stunning her for those few precious moments.

  It was Rogan and his helper needed to wrestle her onto the horse. Within moments, she was sitting astride the huge beast, the rope strung over the thick, coarse branch of the huge oak tree directly above her.

  She stared across the fields, everything within her frozen in time; waiting for that fateful slap of the horse’s rump that would send it on a mad dash, and drop her into death’s waiting arms.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Some unique sense of self preservation, something so intrinsically raw settled around her and she felt an innate sense of calm settle over her. Briefly she wondered if it was Jemima, come to help her through the last few moments of her life. But she knew it went far further than that.

  Edward.

  He was everything she had ever considered good and right in the word, and far out of her reach. He had fought for her, suffered hardships for her, taught her to trust and believe in the goodness of people whatever life threw at her.

  She could only be glad Edward would be spared the ordeal Peter had been put through and wouldn’t be present to watch her die. Her heart ached for everything they were going to be denied. If she could have her chance again, there was absolutely nothing over the past few days she regretted and would indeed do it all again.

  With her thoughts locked firmly upon the vision of Edward’s handsome face, she closed her eyes and began to pray.

  The slap on the horse’s rump made her jump. The sudden slide of the soft fur against the soft skin of her inner thighs was over all too quickly. She gasped in frozen horror, a scream lodged in her throat as the thick rope tightened around her throat as she began to fall.

  Suddenly her hips were encased in strong arms and she was held aloft. Although the noose around her neck was tight, it wasn’t strangling her and didn’t pose any threat to her life.

  “Stay still.” Edward growled, trying to juggle her weight and prevent her from toppling out of his arms while Sebastian sliced the rope.

  Within moments the noose was dragged over her head and dumped unceremoniously onto the floor.

  “Thank God.” Edward murmured, clutching the back of her head in one hand as he stared down into her eyes.

  “Oh Edward.” Eliza gasped, tears shimmering in her eyes. Without hesitation she drew his head down to hers and kissed him with a fierceness that was driven by the need to reaffirm her life. Briefly he returned the kiss before easing her backwards and sweeping her into his arms.

  “Let’s go home.” He whispered, unable to tear his eyes off hers while he carried her through the woods towards Guinness who was waiting patiently for his master.

  “I thought I’d lost you.” Edward growled, his heart still hammering wildly in his chest at just how close they had come to losing her. If he had stumbled on the uneven forest floor, or they had not been able to fight their way through the men who had approached the house, Eliza would have been dead. Murdered in the same way as her sister.

  The fierce glint in his eyes matched the rigid set of his stern face as he eased her on to Guinness’ broad back and mounted behind her. The sight of her sitting upon the horse, the noose around her neck as she awaited death would remain with him for the rest of his life.

  They had arrived at the site minutes after Eliza, and had overheard the conversation between her and Rogan. The highly trained militia sent from the War Office, the Star Elite, had swiftly moved into position and began to work their way through Scraggan’s men, taking each man out individually, as quietly as spectres in a graveyard.

  Thanks to them, every one of Rogan’s men was now tied together in readiness for their long walk to Derby.

  Edward settled her before him on Guinness’ broad back and nudged him towards home. His mount was the most trustworthy animal Edward had ever had, and could be trusted to find his own way home leaving Edward with nothing more to do than stare down into Eliza’s beautiful amber eyes, savouring the knowledge that she was alive and safe.

  “Who are they?” Eliza whispered, nodding to the group of heavily armed men who were moving around Rogan’s camp with a silent efficiency.

  “They are the Star Elite. The group of men, ex-soldiers, guardsmen and so on, Dominic and Peter rounded up to go after the smugglers in Norfolk. While Dominic and Peter returned to Leicestershire and Oxfordshire to run their estates, the Star Elite have continued working with the War Office, protecting the country’s borders. They arrived this morning with Sir Dunnicliffe.”

  Even through the layers of clothing they both wore, Edward could feel the fine tremors sweeping relentlessly through her. Eyeing the thin material of her dress, he drew her against his warmth and savoured the feel of her snuggling against him.

  “Wait!” Eliza murmured, glancing over his shoulder towards the meadow. The sudden rigid set of her back made him draw Guinness to a stop and look behind him.

  They paused and waited as Peter moved towards Rogan, who was sitting on the forest floor at the back of the line of men looking sullen. She glanced cautiously at Edward, and wondered whether Peter could actually be trusted to withhold his anger.

  “I should just run you through where you sit.” Peter spat, his voice laced with contempt. Everyone in the clearing froze, and turned to stare at the confrontation that was unfolding before them. Tension shimmered expectantly in the air as everyone waited for the inevitable.

  “Do it.” Rogan spat, glaring contemptuously at the man before him.

  “No.” Peter shook his head slowly and to the relief of everyone, turned away with a shrug of disinterest. “You are going somewhere special. I have people in the War Office who want to speak to you. Oh, and by the way?” Peter’s voice was almost conversational as he dropped his bombshell. “When you are at the gallows look up, because I will be there and I will be watching as the life is sucked from you. On this occasion, vengeance is mine. If you are lucky, they may hang you before your father – so he can watch.”

  Eliza’s last view of the scene was of Rogan being hauled to his feet and dragged from the clearing after his men; his foul epithets ringing loudly in the air.

  “Let’s go home.” She murmured a thick fog of emotional and physical weariness settle over her. As the meadow began to disappear from view, Eliza gazed up at Edward’s beloved face with a sense of urgency she couldn’t
ignore.

  “I love you.” She whispered, her voice trembling with the emotions threatening to tumble out of her. “I just need you to know.” Eliza murmured softly. “When I was on top of the horse facing death, I realised I hadn’t told you.”

  “I’m glad you have now.” Edward replied, his heart soaring with delight. One blunt finger tipping her face upwards for the tender kiss he placed on her lips. “I’ve never held anyone’s heart before.” He smiled ruefully down at her, struggling to put all of the things he wanted to say in some semblance of order.

  “I know you don’t feel the same way and that’s alright.” She gazed up at him, a tiny pang of longing and bitter regret stealing through her. “I just want you to know that I love you anyway.”

  “You are wrong you know.” He replied, his tone almost conversational as he discussed the most important issue of his life. His gaze captured and held hers. He made no attempt to hide the emotions swirling in their depths. “I do love you.” He ignored her gasp of surprise and turned his gaze to Havistock Hall resting just ahead of them. “I think I have from the very first moment I saw you throwing tankards of ale at the patrons in the tavern. It’s the only explanation I can come up with why I was so determined to pay for a night with you. You tempted me beyond everything I was familiar with. Knowing you has made me reassess who I am, what I am and what I want out of life.” He lowered his gaze to her beautiful, achingly familiar face, his voice humbled with emotion. “Knowing you has made me consider my future and despite our short acquaintance, I really cannot consider my life without you in it. You are my heart. You are my soul and everything in between. I love you Eliza.” His soft whisper swept over her, chasing away the darkest shadows, quickly replacing them with the light of hope.

  Blinking up at him, she studied the raw emotion plainly written there and for the first time in months, felt her world settle and the rocky path beneath her feet even out.