All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

  She was done with that life, however. She had fought back against him, using every trick Sung Li taught her, and it had felt wonderful…before his fist had met her cheek, of course. But she would not subjugate herself before him ever again, not even to placate his madness. The worst was yet to come, she was sure, and she needed to be prepared for it. Sooner or later Freddie’s focus was going to return to Jack, and he would begin to question their friendship. It wouldn’t matter what she said, his jealousy would override all else and his rage would bear more painful results.

  And if he found out Jack was her lover in truth now…

  She shuddered at what may come but determined not to falter in her resolution. She would not let him see her fear ever again! She would give as good as she got!

  Before his next visit, what she really needed to do was find a way out of her prison. She needed to escape. But how? The loft was small, perhaps just eight feet square, and had only a big pair of doors leading to the outside. These doors would have no steps but would rather be where a farmer might prop a conveyor to haul bales and staples to the upper floor of the barn. No help there. With her hands and feet bound, she could not attempt the ladder to search the area below. The only exit was the doors. Such a leap was bound to cause serious injury.

  What were the possibilities?

  She scooted herself close to the doors and considered the tiny crack where the door met the outer wall. Pressing her eye to the crack, Kitty tried to figure out where she was. Probably not an inn, she reasoned, since she heard no signs of other people being present.

  She wished she knew how far they had traveled from Kilberry. Since being rendered unconscious, she had no idea how far they had gone. Closing her eyes, she focused on the sounds she was able to hear. No voices, no footsteps. No carriages or other traffic was audible. They were not in Newport then, not in a town. A farm, perhaps? Animal sounds? No. But she could hear…birds? Yes, she could hear them, but not gulls, no sounds of the ocean. They had gone inland.

  Kitty sighed ruefully and shook her head. Much good she had just done. She was still trapped but now she knew there was no one around to help her. Even if she were to scream, she was certain there was no one nearby to hear her.

  * * *

  He’d found her, Jack thought with grim satisfaction. The two slovenly men seated outside the barn door across the clearing were dead on for the description Eve provided of Kitty’s captors. Ill-fitting suits on two disreputable, shifty-looking men. It was the eighth such farm He’d come across over the course of the day. He had searched every house, henhouse and barn for miles around, and with each disappointment his dread and anxiety grew deeper, for who truly knew what evil this Freddie Hayes might be capable of?

  Kitty’s brief overview of her married life with this bastard had left much unsaid, and as exhaustion and defeat riled Haddington repeatedly that day, the images and possibilities of Hayes’ retribution upon his former wife had become a bloody nightmare in his mind. He imagined her tortured by the madman’s hand, bloodied and beaten. The idea that any of his imagined scenarios might become reality spurred him on in his frantic search.

  But now, he was sure he had located her in the tiny ramshackle barn, currently guarded by the two thugs who were now trading a silver flask back and forth. It was getting dark already and Jack knew he should go back to Kilberry and garner support, returning in the morning, but the earl realized he could not leave Kitty in the clutches of this villainous pair for the night.

  And though Hayes was nowhere in sight, there was a chance if he left now the villain might arrive soon, taking Kitty farther away and risking her loss once more.

  No, he had to get her out now. Jack contemplated the pair at the barn doors. That had to be where Kitty was being kept, rather than the unguarded farmhouse nearby. He tapped his cheek in consideration wondering if he could take the pair on his own. Of the two men, the brawnier one had the look of a seasoned fighter and was close to him in size, if a wee bit paunchy. The small fellow, though, Jack thought might be the more difficult of the pair, as he looked like a man who faced serious troubles in his past and found unethical ways to emerge the victor. However, the two men looked tired and inebriated as well, which was to his benefit. If they had been long at the flask, drunkenness might make them ungainly and slow.

  Unless they were armed. Appearances aside, Jack couldn’t be sure.

  Deciding his best chance might be to avoid a confrontation with the unpredictable pair, Jack sidled back into the woods and skirted around the clearing to the backside of the rickety building. Sure enough, though there was no rear door, a small window relieved the side of the barn. Chancing the pair of guards would confine themselves to main doors, Jack slid along the weathered wall. The window was at shoulder height but, thankfully, missing a pane of glass. Removing his jacket, he wrapped it around the frame, intending to push it up, but at the slightest pressure the entire window, wood frame and all, fell into the barn. Lurching forward, Jack caught it before it could fall to the floor and break the remaining panes, but it did swing against the wall with a loud thunk that had him cursing under his breath and waiting expectantly for the guards to come in search of the source of the noise.

  When all remained silent, he lifted the window diagonally through the opening and propped it up against the barn. Hefting himself, he went headfirst through the now empty window frame and leapt silently to his feet in what was once the tack room of the barn. The setting sun cast minimal light into the space, but Kitty clearly wasn’t in the room. Cracking open the door, he slipped through, making an efficient search of all the stalls, coming upon two horses and a carriage before finding the ladder to the loft.

  Jack cast a quick glance toward the main doors, assuring himself that his presence had yet gone unnoticed, before swinging up the narrow ladder. A peek over the top revealed little in the near blackness of the upper loft.

  Risking discovery, he whispered into the darkness. “Kitty?”

  There was a rustling in the hay, then, “Jack?”

  “Oh, thank God,” he whispered as he swung up into the loft. “Shush now!”

  “Watch…”

  “Ouch,” he grunted as his head made contact with the rafter.

  “…out,” Kitty finished, as she heard him make his way over to her.

  He dropped to his knees and crawled through the hay over her. Finding an ankle, he groped his way up until he was able to cup his hands around her cheeks. Lowering his mouth, he pressed a rough kiss to her lips, only to hear her hiss in pain and draw back.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “Did that bastard hurt you?”

  “Just knocked me about a bit,” she whispered. “How did you find me?”

  “We’ve been searching every building in Rhode Island as far as I can tell,” he told her as he untied her hands blindly and moved on to her ankles. “When I saw those two guarding the doors out front, I knew I had finally found the right place. Can you walk?”

  “I can if I have to and before you say anything, yes, I know I have to.”

  Kitty rubbed life back into her feet as Jack started sliding back to the ladder, pulling her along. Finding the edge with his hand, he felt his way along to the ladder, eased himself over and guided her feet to the top rung before he continued his descent.

  When she reached the bottom, he was there waiting to lift her down the last step with his hands on her waist. Able to see a little better, she let Jack take her hand to lead her to their escape. But as they turned, the door opened, casting the setting sun upon the darkened silhouette of Hayes, with his two thugs behind him and a pistol aimed directly at them.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Hayes sneered, as the pair shielded their eyes against the brighter light. “I couldn’t believe it when I watched you sneak from the woods, Lord Haddington. I had quite a clear view of the whole thing from the house. Of course, I had assumed these two buffoons had seen you as well, otherwise I would have arrived much sooner. What do you th
ink you’re doing with my wife?”

  Jack leaned a shoulder nonchalantly against a stall door, eying the kidnapper with a venomous glare, though his voice held a note of his usual cold arrogance, “I heard she wisnae married to ye any longer and, being such a good friend, decided to come and rescue her.”

  “She doesn’t need rescuing from me, Lord Haddington,” Hayes spat out, already losing his focus as his irrational anger took hold. “She knows I only want what is best for her.”

  “I really dinnae think that is the case,” Jack drawled, determined to rattle the impetuous fellow into doing something rash and hoping to gain the upper hand. “Otherwise we wouldnae have become such good, intimate friends these past several days.”

  The look on Hayes face was incredulous and he glanced back and forth between his prisoners. “Intimate?”

  “Jack!” Kitty hissed in warning, remembering the first time Freddie had assumed the worst of her mere flirtation with another man.

  “Extremely intimate,” he went on provoking Hayes, regardless of her warning.

  Hayes ground his teeth as his face turned an alarming shade of red. “Are you saying…?”

  “Aye, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Jack smirked with a waggle of his brows. “Dinnae teach her much though, did ye? I have to admit—ooofff!”

  Hayes lowered himself and plowed into Jack’s midsection like an angry bull, cutting off any further conversation. Jack came up, landing a fair right as he swung around, whipping his left arm about toward Freddie’s lackeys. A length of bridle extended from his hand, catching the smaller man across the eyes. He bent as he went, taking up a wooden bucket in his right hand that arced as he spun around and hit the larger man along the side of his head. Whipping about, he snapped the reins at Hayes, slashing him across the wrists, causing the pistol to skid across the compacted dirt floor and into the hay.

  Jack turned back to the other two men. The brutish fellow was wobbling on his feet and holding his head. As Jack had hoped, copious amounts of alcohol rendered him ineffective. The shorter, wiry fiend was already coming at him, though blood streamed from his right eye. His remaining eye shot vengeance at Haddington and the pair met, trading vicious blows.

  Kitty caught Freddie’s movement as he searched for the gun and found herself impulsively leaping after him trying to find it first. As always, Freddie did not refrain from playing dirty, but desperation drove Kitty to fight back as she clawed at him, pulling at his hair and earning a grunt of pain, which, she thought with satisfaction, rivaled those Jack was eliciting from the pair of thugs he was fighting. Catching Freddie’s hand, she turned it backwards, locking his thumb down in a better version on the move she tried earlier. This time, Freddie cried out in pain for the second injury to his wrist and was forced to his knees to relieve the pressure.

  Her triumph faded when he dropped back and kicked up into her ribcage, leaving her gasping for air even as she saw him rise with the gun in his hands. Hayes’ eyes narrowed down at her, now filled with frigid hatred as he leveled the gun toward her.

  “You whore,” he spat out, holding his injured wrist against his middle. “You slept with him?”

  “Freddie, I…” Kitty begged as the gun swung toward her, catching her temple and knocking her back dizzily into the hay.

  “Enough,” he roared, spittle spraying from his mouth, and fired the gun into the air, drawing the attention of the three combatants.

  Both his cohorts were lying on the ground holding different parts of their bodies while Jack was still on his feet, dusting himself off. They turned to Hayes, all breathing heavily from their exertions.

  “Lord Haddington,” Freddie snarled as he waved the gun at the would-be rescuer. “Into the stall. Now.”

  Chapter 33

  Jack curled his lip, disgusted he hadn’t been able to incapacitate the scrappy little fellow quickly enough to turn his attention back to Hayes. He had assumed that the bastard had been sufficiently provoked into joining the fray rather than searching for the gun once more. The bigger thug had landed a blow to his shoulder wound, slowing him down a bit. Clearly, Hayes was more apt to stab one in the back or shoot an unarmed man than fight as God intended.

  The gun pointed at him wavered as Hayes panted in anger and pain. “You bitch! I think you broke my wrist.”

  “Good,” Kitty spat at him.

  But Freddie turned his rage on Haddington. “I should kill you now for touching my wife, but I know it’s her fault. She’s a flirt. A temptress. She drives a man insane.”

  “Undoubtedly.” The earl crossed his arms across his chest, assessing the situation and trying to find a way to get the gun away from the crazed scoundrel. He needed to rattle the fellow once more. As unstable as he was, it was simple to goad him into losing control. “I must confess that you shouldn’t hold it against her too much though. While her skill with flirtation is beguiling, the execution was not worth much note.”

  “Why you…!” Hayes started to leap forward again in attack just as Jack hoped but managed to catch himself. He waved the gun again. “Stall. Now.”

  Disappointed, Jack waltzed into the stall and sank down where Hayes pointed. Kitty sat across from him, giving him his first real look at her injuries. Rage boiled in him as he noted the blackened eye and swollen cheek. Her lip still bleeding. The sight of that blood sent him to his feet once more only to find the pistol pointed straight at his forehead. He sank down once again, his blood pounding for vengeance in his veins. He would kill the bastard for this.

  “Tie him up,” Hayes ordered, waving the gun from Kitty to a length of rope hanging from a hook in a nearby stall.

  Kitty sniffed with hurt. His insult of their lovemaking compounded her lingering anger from the previous night, and she stared across the stall at Jack. “Why should I?’

  “If you don’t tie him up, I’ll shoot him.”

  Her brows shot up with malicious glee. “Really? Please do.”

  “Kitty,” Jack ground through his teeth.

  “Please do?” Even her ex-husband looked at her in amazement. “Are you mad?”

  “No actually, I would love for you to shoot him right now.” She gave Jack a considering assessment. “Yes, I’m feeling very good about it.”

  “Kitty!” Jack bellowed again.

  “Yes?” Her head tilted to the side with innocent inquiry.

  Hayes looked confounded, as if he couldn’t determine whether she was serious and how he might tie Jack himself. Perhaps she might offer to hold the gun for him?

  “Fine then,” Freddie bit out finally. “Tie him up or I’ll shoot you.”

  “Well!” She stumbled to her feet and flounced over to get the rope before stomping back toward Jack. “If you put it that way. Fine.”

  She wrapped the rope around his wrists, pulling tightly and burning his skin against it, making him inhale in pain. “Watch it!”

  “Sorry,” she drawled sweetly. “Does that hurt?”

  “What are you thinking?” he hissed at her as he mocked her words. “Please do? You could have had me killed.”

  “I’m not seeing that as a great loss right now, Jack Merrill.”

  “Hurry up, Katherine!” Hayes tapped his foot impatiently.

  “I’m working on it, Freddie,” she bit out sarcastically.

  When she finished, Hayes came around and inspected the job with a satisfied grunt. “You always did know how to tie a good knot. Your father taught you well.”

  Her father had taught her very well. She had knotted the ropes, weaving them in and out of Jack’s wrists in such a way that to the untrained eye they appeared very tightly knotted, but with just a few simple twists the whole of it would become easily loosened.

  Obediently, she sat where Freddie indicated and let her own hands be bound while she and Jack glared at each other across the small stall.

  “You won’t get away with his,” Jack ground out, taking his frustrations with Kitty out on the villain whose blood he already wanted spilled
. “The others are not far behind. They will be here in moments, no doubt.”

  “Jasper! Meany!” Hayes yelled as he trotted out of the stall. “Get up! Get out there and look around. Make sure there’s no one else coming.” His voice faded as he followed them out.

  “What is wrong with ye?” Jack bit out the moment Hayes was gone, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he learned the truth of Jack’s solitary rescue attempt and returned to deliver whatever revenge he had in mind. “What were ye thinking?” he hissed at her as he mocked her words. “Please do? Ye could have gotten me killed, ye daft woman!”

  “What is wrong with me?” she spat out incredulously.

  “You’ve been angry ever since we made love last night.”

  “Oh, it was making love now was it?” she snapped sarcastically. “I thought it was merely a noteworthy experience for you? Isn’t that what you said last night? Or didn’t you say just now it was not worthy of any note?”

  “Is that what’s had yer back up all this time?” He gaped in surprise. “I didn’t phrase it right?”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t the skills to please you.” Her eyes shot daggers at him across the space.

  “I was teasing, ye thick-headed lass,” he bellowed, his blood reaching boiling point. “How could ye no’ see that?”

  “You said we would have affection! And you didn’t even…” She clamped her mouth shut, glaring at him.

  “Bugger it, lass.”

  Damn, but she knew how to get to him. All this because he hadn’t used a descriptor for their love making that pleased her? What did she expect him to do? Grovel at her feet, slavishly? Confess to her he’d never had an experience that touched his soul so deeply, so she might mock him or keep him panting after her for the chance to experience it again? He was a man, not a lap dog. By God, if he didn’t even have control in this, what did he have left to him?

  “What did ye expect of me?” he ground out rashly. “Confessions of undying love?”