With a gasp Lenore stumbled back, hitting her head sharply on a low rafter, and was brought up short by the confining timbers. Her stomach heaved, and she covered her mouth with a shaking hand. Averting her face to deny any chance glimpse of what she had just seen, she pressed her brow against the slanting wooden brace. A strange creepiness made her skin crawl, and while her heart quivered, a frosty chill shivered up her spine. Her mind began to tumble in a dizzying gyre, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut to forbid any intrusion of the nightmare that threatened.
“No, no,” she moaned miserably as once more the poker was lifted and brought down with murderous intent. She cowered, wanting to see nothing more of it, but the horror was relentless and seeped into her brain until all she saw was…blood! Her mind screamed at the terror she had witnessed, and then the tall, broad-shouldered form came slowly around with a dark cloak swirling about it. The face was enraged, the eyes flaring, the mouth snarling, and the visage was one she knew!
“Malcolm!” she gasped, flinging her eyes wide.
“You bitch!” his voice barked from the stairwell, and though she whirled to flee, he was there immediately behind her, grabbing her arm in a cruel, unrelenting vise and ensnaring the heavy chignon at her nape. He shook her head until her vision blurred, and then he twisted her head around until she thought her neck would snap. A sharp pain shot through her head at his abuse, but she stiffened her jaw, refusing to whine or mewl for mercy.
“You killed him!” she accused through gritted teeth. “You murdered him! And you stuffed his body in my trunk so you could get rid of it.”
“You shouldn’t have left here with him,” he snarled close to her ear. “You should never have listened to him! I was waiting for you downstairs…and I waited…and waited. It was time for us to go aboard the ship. We were to sail to Europe and abroad, but still you didn’t come down. Then the coachman came running in and said the carriage had been stolen by someone who had hit him over the head, and when I ran upstairs, I couldn’t find you.”
“But how did you know where I had gone?”
Malcolm laughed without humor. “The note the bastard wrote to you…you left it on your dressing table. Then I knew who had been here and where he had taken you…to Natchez to see his sister…to provide you proof of what he said…and to secure her release with your testimony.” His short, snorting chuckle came in derision. “Sarah! Another bitch! She didn’t trust me either…but she loved me. You lust after that devil, Wingate.”
“Bigamist!” The tendons in her throat tensed into tight cords as she tried to pull her hair free from his grasp, but he yanked her head back upon his shoulder and, slipping an arm about her throat, applied pressure until she was forced to cease her struggles or be choked to death. Her outrage was not so easily subdued. “Murderer!”
Forcing her face around with his wrist, Malcolm stared down into the blazing emerald eyes and smirked. “You needn’t be jealous, my pet. I took care of her. She’s naught but ashes now.”
“You set fire to the madhouse?!” Lenore questioned, horrified at the extent he would go to achieve his own ends.
“I’m very good at building fires, my dear,” he boasted. “I take great pleasure in doing it well. Whenever I’ve paid others to do a like service, they have failed me. Wingate’s warehouses, for instance. A clever ploy to get him away from Belle Chêne so you could be pressed to do the honorable thing, but those sheds were supposed to burn…all of them, and the blame was to be cast on Horace Titch.”
The wall was slowly crumbling, and the horror was beginning to spill through the widening fissures. “You had Sarah committed after we met, while her brother was still abroad and I was in England. I don’t know what evil quirk of your mind made you choose Natchez…or why you didn’t kill her.”
“I had gained the sympathy of the family attorneys with all the distress I had to go through having to commit her. It would have been foolish to arouse their suspicions, especially when any investigation into the accident that killed her father would have implicated me. Since the lawyers were willing to believe her brother would never return, they let me have everything I needed. It was disappointing to learn how quickly the family’s wealth could be exhausted. I had just seized upon another outlet when her brother came…and took you away.”
“We had only arrived in Natchez and were making plans to visit Sarah the next day. How did you manage to arrange everything so quickly?”
“You made the mistake of traveling by carriage across land, my dear. I left immediately by boat and went up the Mississippi by steamer. You had to allow rest for the horses and a night’s lodgings; nothing delayed me.” Malcolm loosened his grip on her arm and caressed it as he murmured against her ear. “You should never have come to his room when you did…”
“I heard arguing….”
“Aye, and your curiosity nearly bought you a grave, my love. I could not let a witness to one of my murders live, no matter how fond of her I was.” His stroking hand came upon her breast and sent a shiver through her. “It would have been so easy if you’d have allowed me to remove the man’s body in secret. Then you’d have thought he had disappeared and was only playing you for a dupe. You certainly would not have been able to make inquiries at the madhouse after I torched it and secured the silence of those who knew me.”
“I really don’t understand the workings of your mind, Malcolm,” she said in some amazement. “Can you honestly believe you can continue in your evil ways?”
“I’m very ambitious, my dear…and I have the intelligence to bring into being all that I desire.”
“If you think you’re so intelligent, tell me why you filled my trunk with stones and left it here to be discovered. Why didn’t you just dump it in the river?”
“Oh, but I couldn’t. At least, not while that coachman I hired watched me so closely. He helped me carry it out of the inn and kept insisting he’d handle the baggage…even when we got here. I didn’t want the servants to open it, so I had him help me bring it up here. It seemed safe enough behind a locked door.”
“But the body…when did you get rid of it?”
“The first night we stopped on the road…I had to sneak out of the inn and carry it into the woods…then I filled the chest with stones so the coachman wouldn’t get suspicious. You just don’t know how much I regretted that you went off without our driver.”
“A man you hired!” she scoffed. “Even if he had consented to take us, he’d have left a trail so wide, you couldn’t have missed it.”
Malcolm gloated. “I have been blessed immeasurably by the loyalty of my men.”
“Cutthroats! Thieves! Rapists!”
He chuckled at her rising ire. “I have to allow them a few pleasures now and then.”
“Why didn’t you let them take me? Why did you make such a pretense of saving me from them?”
“Ahh, my dear,” he sighed. “There are some pleasures a man wants to preserve for himself.”
“You could have forced yourself on me then. Why did you insist on courting me and pressing for my hand?”
“I was not content with mere tidbits. I wanted it all. The first time I saw you, I was intrigued by your beauty. When I made inquiries, you became even more desirable to me. I thought I had lost you…and then to my joy I found that my men had taken you prisoner. They had made plans to ransom you, but first they agreed to pass you around among themselves….”
“That’s when you fought them off.”
“I had to make it look good, you understand. When I delivered you safe and sound to your father…I became a hero.” Malcolm’s brows drew downward into a sudden scowl. “But even then you denied me…and it seemed that I had failed. I was turned away, but my hopes rose again when you came to Biloxi to live.” His fingers tightened as they came upon her arm, and he was pleased by her pained grimace. “You still did not make it easy for me. You were too set on mourning your husband.”
“Aye! And I should never have let you wear down
my resistance. I would have saved myself a lot of misery.” She resisted the prodding prongs of fear when his hand lifted to caress her throat, as if he seriously contemplated her extinction. “If you’re going to kill me, Malcolm, get it over with,” she gritted. “There’s nothing to stop you now.”
“Ahh, but there is, my dear.” He chuckled with more amusement. “’Twas the reason I married you. Your vast fortune could do great wonders for me. I have all the documents I need to prove that we are married. They’ll give me title to everything that is yours. There’s even a will….”
“I’ll never sign anything like that!”
“You needn’t, my dear. Samuel Evans is quite adept at his work. He wrote out the documents and made them look legal. He can just as easily sign your name to them. Why, no one even noticed how he touched up our marriage document. I could not let that devil Wingate know just when we exchanged vows.”
“For all of your planning and scheming, Malcolm, you’ll still get nothing. If I die, what I have…except for this house…reverts back to my father. It’s his wealth, and his it shall remain.”
Malcolm regarded her with heavily hooded eyes that gleamed above a smug smile. “I’ve already taken care of that matter. By now, the man I sent to perform the task has no doubt carried through, and your father’s demise will soon be announced.”
“Nooo!” she moaned, falling limp against him.
“There, there, my dear. No need to mourn. With your father in England and you here, you can almost make believe he still exists. I only await the word of his death to begin collecting, since it is the law that I inherit all that he leaves you, but if you have the imagination for it you’re quite free to think of him as still alive.”
Wearily she rolled her head upon his chest. “What do you plan to do with me?”
“Oh, I’ll keep you around for a while, just to make sure there are no surprises concerning your father’s inheritance. I don’t want Wingate intruding into this. I know a little madhouse along the river where you will be safe…until you are of no more use to me.”
“And then? Will you set fire to that, too?” Her inquiry was sharp with sarcasm.
“Oh, I might. It makes things simpler that way.”
“And it doesn’t matter how many you kill in your effort to destroy one?”
“Those miserable souls, they’re better off dead.”
“Not everyone would agree with you, Malcolm,” she flung over her shoulder.
“I know. Sarah’s guard found me out and tried to stop me. I killed him in the cookhouse, and then dragged his body into the house to be burned. Of course, his death was something I had arranged anyway, so it was hardly a loss.”
“You’re evil, Malcolm,” she accused. “Evil. A spawn of Satan.”
Growing tired of the discussion, Malcolm pulled her with him as he turned. “Come along now. I want to see where your lover is.”
“Lover?!” Her temper flared anew.
“Never mind that now. I want to see Wingate’s face when I threaten to blow your head off….”
She fought him in sudden desperation, for the moment ignoring his ruthess grasp, but it was difficult to disregard the derringer that he pressed beneath her chin.
“If you think I won’t use this, you’re wrong. Samuel Evans has worked for me for some time now, so he’ll do whatever I ask…even penning a note that would explain why you took your own life.”
He dragged her to the stairs and, slipping an arm about her narrow waist, lifted her off her feet and started his descent. She dared not struggle, for he held her out over the edge of the stairs, and he seemed to delight in taunting her over the open space. His sudden dips snatched her breath and inspired his low chuckles.
At the lower door Malcolm paused and leaned close to her ear. “Where is your lover?”
Her heart trembled inside her chest. “I think I’d be a fool to tell you.”
“No matter.” He was unaffected by her lack of cooperation. “My father will tell me.”
“Your father?” She tried to see his face, but could not. “Who might that be?”
“The sot,” he sneered.
“Edward Gaitling…is your father?” Her astonishment was complete.
“Not one I’m proud of, but the only one I can claim.”
“And does he know all about your activities?” she queried in wonder.
“Many of them, I suppose. Some he doesn’t approve of, but he has much to make up for. He deserted my mother when I was but a young lad…and it was only after she died…and I was a man full grown that he came pleading for my forgiveness. He’s been trying to make up for his sins ever since.”
“By committing more?” Her short laugh revealed her contempt. “No wonder he drinks so much. It takes a lot to dull his conscience.”
“Bah! He’s squeamish. He turns his back so he can tell himself he’s not aware of what’s going on. He plays ignorant. He’s still wondering about Mary, but he knows she overheard us talking. I just accepted the fact that I had to get rid of her, but I made it pleasurable for her until the end.”
His captive shuddered in revulsion. She had never known a man as evil or as depraved as he. If anyone deserved to be imprisoned in a madhouse, it was he, but his crimes reached far beyond the maladies of those poor souls.
Malcolm opened the door and stepped into the hall, toting her as he would a doll. Hurrying footsteps sounded in the lower corridor, and Meghan’s voice drifted up in a wordless melody. Malcolm growled a low warning and tightened his arm around the slender waist, making his hostage writhe in pain. Her fingers clawed at his coatsleeve, trying to pry his arm free, for it seemed doubtful that her bones could stand the strain.
“I’ll find out anyway,” he whispered. “So you might as well tell me where Wingate is.”
“In my bedroom,” she gasped in agony.
“How convenient for you to keep your lover abed until you are ready for him.”
She refused to answer and give credit to his remark. He loosened his arm enough to allow her to breathe, but the pistol nudged her jaw again, warning her to silence while he carefully crept down the hall toward her chambers. The door was closed, and he set her to her feet at the portal, then imprisoned her there with his own body.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Malcolm breathed against her ear. “If you make any forward move to get away from me, I’ll get either you or him with this shot. Do you understand?” He waited until she replied with a hesitant nod of her head. “Now open the door…very carefully.”
Her hand trembled as it closed around the knob, then complying to every word of his command, she turned it until the latch clicked free. With wildly thumping heart she pushed it inward, moving cautiously forward as she did so. Ashton was lying on his side facing the door and had been sleeping, but as she entered, his eyelids came slowly open. He smiled sleepily as he saw her, but then his eyes lifted, caught the glint of the derringer beside her shoulder and the large shape behind her. Not waiting for an explanation he dove toward the bench at the foot of the bed where he had left his own derringer beneath his clothes, not caring at the moment that he flattened the sheet which had covered him under his naked form.
“I’ll kill her!” Malcolm barked and shoved the bore of the small pistol into her throat. “So help me, I will!” He let the other man digest his threat a moment, then he directed, “Now carefully…take whatever weapon you’re after…and place it on the floor in front of the bed and slide it very slowly over here to me. If you make one quick, unnecessary movement, she will be the one to pay for it. And if you think I don’t have it in me to kill her, then you’d better ask her how many I’ve already done away with.”
Ashton’s gaze met his lady’s, and reading the troubled disquiet in the green depths, he knew they were both dealing with a dangerous man. As instructed, he removed the pistol from beneath his clothing and, coming to his feet, laid it on the rug and pushed it out toward them, then gave it a light shove, sending it sliding slo
wly across the floor.
Malcolm took the slender wrist that was close at hand and prodded his captive again with the pistol. “Pick it up by the cylinder and hand it to me butt first.” He smirked in pleasure as his orders were obeyed and, slipping the extra derringer into his coat pocket, chuckled at his power. “Strange how the pair of you have come to respect me. Perhaps you are finally learning.” Laying his arm around his hostage’s shoulders, he waved the pistol toward Ashton. “I’ll allow you to get your trousers on now. Though my wife may prefer your present state, I’m sure Meghan will be unduly shocked if you go downstairs wearing only that patch on your ribs. My men would have saved me considerable trouble if they had taken care of you as they should have…especially if they had done so at the very beginning.”
“Just what are you planning?” Ashton asked sharply as he shoved a leg into his trousers.
“If you must know, Wingate, I’m going to take you downstairs and wait for the rest of my men to come. I’ve told them to use caution coming to the house. I don’t want to make anyone on your ship suspicious of our activities here.”
“And once your men get here?” Ashton thrust his other leg into the pair of pants and began fastening them.
“Then, of course, there will be enough of us to deal with you as I would like. I promised Lenore if I ever caught the pair of you together, I’d see you gelded….”
Come Love a Stranger Page 43