Dorothea’s manipulatin’ ye in yer sleep, Ruth had said earlier. But he wasn’t asleep, and he could hear Dorothea’s words echoing in his mind and feel her pull on his body. The pull he had scoffed at and thought his friends and wife were crazy for believing to be true. Sweat broke out over his body. He knew that he had to climb up on that bed and slip his wrists and ankles in those loops.
I want you and you want me, Dorothea whispered in his mind.
“No,” he groaned. Reese fought his way to the bed. He felt like he was fighting against something that was pulling him backwards. “Circe,” he groaned as he finally made it to the bed. He reached out and grabbed for her hand. “Circe,” he repeated, gripping her hand tighter. He breathed deeply of her familiar scent, hoping to hold onto his sanity.
“Reese?” she squinted her eyes at him.
“Help me.”
“What is it?”
“She wants me.” He saw that Circe quickly understood.
“Come up here,” she said and helped him. She slipped the loops over his hands to his wrists and tightened them. Circe then did the same thing with his ankles.
“I’m sorry,” Reese managed to grit out.
“Why?”
“For doubting you. For thinking that a human could not control another human.”
“I forgive you and I must admit it does sound strange. Try to sleep. It is easier on you when you sleep and do not realize what is happening.”
“How can I sleep? Bloody hell, get out of my head!” he ordered to the faceless voice.
“What can I do to help you?” Circe asked.
“Stay with me.”
“I will.”
Circe waited until Reese fell asleep before leaving the bed. She took a moment to make certain she was steady on her feet. Satisfied, she quickly bound her breasts. She slipped into the breeches and shirt she wore to be married in and pulled on her boots. She found a gun and made certain it was loaded. One way or another, she was going to put an end to Dorothea’s manipulations. Tonight.
Chapter 29
My mistake was in underestimating Dorothea, Circe thought as she stood tied to the whipping post in the courtyard. The same one Bree had been whipped at by Samson. She had charged in when she should have treated the situation with more finesse. Now she was waiting for the whipping to commence. That is if she did not drown first. It had already rained so much so quickly that water was spilling into the tops of her riding boots, soaking her feet, and it did not look to ease anytime soon. Lightning forked around them followed by loud claps of thunder that rattled the very ground they stood on. It seems that the old sea captain knew what he was talking about after all.
A door opened and closed somewhere to her right, bringing her out of her reverie, and a big, dark, handsome man approached her. As he grew closer, she could see a look of remorse on his face.
“I’m sorry, miss. I don’t wanna do this.”
“I know.”
He fidgeted with the ropes.
“What are you doing?” Dorothea yelled from her balcony that was protected from the elements.
“The ropes slipped loose.”
“Start the whippings.”
“But Lady Dorothea—”
“Now!”
“Do it,” Circe said, gripping the wooden post.
“Yes, miss,” the man sounded morose. The back of her shirt was ripped open.
Circe jumped with the first strike of the whip. She realized the binding around her breasts were protecting her from most of the pain, but there was still a stinging sensation with every lash. She bit her lip and thought of Reese. Thinking about Reese helped her manage the sting of the whip.
“Make her scream!” Dorothea yelled the order from the balcony.
Circe gripped the post tighter, preparing herself for a harder blow. She bit back the scream that wanted to break free. Over and over the man struck her. Each time she thought she would go to her knees or black out from the pain, but she somehow managed to stay upright. She lost count of the number of times she had been hit.
“She’s comin’ down here.”
“What?” Circe asked trying to make sense of what the man had said and why the whippings had stopped.
“She’s comin’. I’ve loosened the ropes on your hands. Ye should be able to free yerself.”
“No wonder you’re not screaming,” Dorothea hissed in her ear, “what with all this extra fabric protecting you. I’ll take care of that. Give me a knife.”
Circe knew she had to do something. She slipped her hands free of the rope while Dorothea was shouting orders. She moved her hands and interlocked her fingers. She took a deep breath and staggered when she unexpectedly felt the sting of the whip from her shoulder to her hip. When had Dorothea cut the bindings? Again, she felt it, only this was different from the other whip. This one had so many little pieces of leather with little pieces of something that occasionally pierced her skin.
“Now you feel it, don’t you?” Dorothea cackled like a maniac as she brought the whip down over and over and over.
Circe felt her strength seeping out of her with every strike of the whip. Still she refused to scream, refused to make a sound. She watched as Dorothea moved around the post to stand in front of her. The rain landing on her back made her want to cry out in pain, but she refused to give the woman the pleasure of hearing that.
“I hated you from the moment you came here. The way Robert fawned all over you as if you were something special,” Dorothea said looking up at her.
“He loved you.”
“Of course he did, but that is beside the point. Until you arrived I was his sole focus.”
“Why did you kill him?”
“He was demanding an heir.”
“And?”
“I have no desire to have children.”
“You faked the pregnancy,” Circe accused.
“I did.”
“How did you fake the miscarriage? All that blood?”
“Animals are easy to find around here.”
“You make me ill. Do you know what my last conversation was with Uncle Robert?”
“No, nor do I care.”
“He told me he refused to get anymore children on you. He could not stand to see you in pain both physically and emotionally, could not stand the possibility of losing you, and yet you were pretending the entire time. Then you killed him.”
“I will hear no more from you! Take her inside! Lock her in the root cellar.”
Circe knew that if she ended up in that room, she would never get out alive. So she blurted out the only thing she knew to say. “Why did you kill them?”
“Who?” Dorothea asked nonchalantly.
Circe found it mildly amusing that they were having this conversation in the midst of a raging storm. As if to punctuate her thoughts, a bolt of lightning struck nearby followed by a loud clap of thunder. “Who? You dare ask who like their lives meant so little to you? Samson, Granny Mabel, Bree, and Molly. Did you even have the guts to do it yourself or did you have it ordered?”
“Shut your mouth!”
“You desecrated my favorite place on this island with what you did.”
“Shut up!”
Circe looked around and saw the household staff standing in the perimeter, watching with a kind of morbid fascination. “She buried them on the beach up to their necks and let them drown when the tide came in. But that was only after she tortured them. I am sure some of you already know this though, because she forced you to do it. She threatens your families with her dark magic. Her dark magic means nothing if you do not believe in it.” Circe felt the sting across her cheek before she even saw Dorothea’s hand move. A moment later there was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.
“Do not condemn my power, because despite what you say, you believe in it as well, or you would not be here. Why did you really come here tonight?”
“To end the control you have over my husband.”
“See, you adm
it that I have control over him. How do you think you’ll manage to wrest control back? Whether you believe in my magic or not, you know that he and I have a connection.”
Dorothea turned her back on Circe for just a moment and she took the opportunity. She took one of the ropes, dropped it over Dorothea’s neck, and pulled the woman against the post. Circe quickly tied a knot and used the other rope to tie her hands behind her. She sloshed around so she could look Dorothea in the eyes. “Where is the charm you are using on Reese?”
“I’ll never tell you.”
“I will find it with or without your help.” Circe crossed the courtyard and entered the house. She made her way to the foyer and took the steps two at a time. She entered Dorothea’s room and ransacked it looking for anything that might be a charm. Discouraged, she enlisted the help of several maids that had followed her. One of them found a hidden latch on the wardrobe that revealed a false bottom. Inside there were vials of various liquids, Uncle Robert’s original will leaving all of the land and house to Circe should he die without issue, and several charms in the shape of a man. One was dark and another was lighter. She grabbed both of them. There was also the missing cameo brooch Bree had been whipped for. Circe found a leather pouch to place the will and the two dolls in to protect them from the elements. She stuffed it into the waistband of her breeches and pulled the front of her shirt over it in order to keep it hidden from view. Then she took the vials and threw them in the fireplace, smashing them.
She ran out onto the balcony and looked below to see the post stood there alone with the rope whipping in the wind.
“Where is she?” She saw one of the men point at her and spun around in time to see a knife coming towards her. Circe side-stepped Dorothea in time for the knife plunge impotently into the balcony railing. “I found the charms. Tell me how to free the men they are attached to.”
“They will only be free with my death or theirs,” Dorothea answered smugly.
“If that is how you wish it to be, I can certainly accommodate you,” Circe said.
“I don’t think you have it in you.”
“And that is where you are wrong. For I will do anything for the man I love.”
* * *
Reese woke to a loud crack of thunder. He could feel the entire house shake even through the bed he was bound to. He turned his head and looked at the chair where he expected to see Circe curled up as usual, but there was no one there. Reese searched the room as best he could from his vantage point, but there was no sign of his wife. Something white and frothy lay on the floor that looked suspiciously like the shirt she wore at night. There was a crash against the shutters.
“She’s helping Ruth take food to the rooms they prepared in case the storm worsened,” he told himself, trying to soothe his fraying nerves. He waited for her to make an appearance, but when she didn’t, he began yelling her name.
“Dammit man, ye could wake the dead,” Sean muttered, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Have you seen Circe anywhere?”
“We were asleep.”
“Free me.”
“Are ye certain tis wise?”
“Free me,” Reese growled.
Sean eyed him warily, but did as he was ordered. “Where’s Circe?” Sean asked, looking around the room.
“I don’t know. I was awake and felt as if I were being drawn to Dorothea. I could hear her in my mind.”
“Ah, so ye be believin’ us now?”
“I made Circe tie me up,” Reese continued recounting the events of last night. “I guess I fell asleep. I woke up a bit ago and she wasn’t here.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t bloody know!” Reese yelled at his friend. He was now free of his confines. “I’m going to check all the rooms.”
“I’ll do that while you dress.”
Before long, Reese was fully clothed and helping search for his errant wife. They met up in the kitchen, neither having been successful in finding her. There was a crash up above and both men looked at one another and raced up the stairs until they found what they were looking for. The top of a palm tree had broken through the window on an upper-level room that had no shutters.
“Bloody hell,” Reese said, standing in awe of what he saw.
“What do you think about old sea captains now?”
Reese ignored him and retraced his steps back to the kitchens just as someone beat on the door. His long stride had him reaching the door in no time at all and flinging it open in hopes of seeing Circe on the other side. Instead, it was Moses and his family and a trail of people behind them.
“Roofs are bein’ ripped t’ shreds,” Moses said by way of explanation.
“Come in.” Reese stood there holding the door as men, women, and children filed into the plantation house. Everyone was finally settled in the interior rooms when Reese spoke. “Did anyone see my wife? We can’t find her.” He watched anxiously as most of the group shook their heads in the negative. He knew it had been a long shot, but he had to ask.
“My nephew here knows where yer wife is,” Moses said.
Reese wove his way through the crowd until he stood in front of a young man sitting next to Moses. He squatted down in front of him and pleaded with him, “Please, if you know where I can find her, tell me.”
“Lady Dorothea,” the boy mumbled.
“No,” Reese denied.
“The boy is one of Dorothea’s slaves,” Moses said. “He works in the main house but got scared with the storm comin’. Wanted t’ be with family. We’s all he gots left. He was sneakin’ out of the house when yer missus was caught.”
“Caught?”
“Yes, sir. Some of the men grabbed her and dragged her into the house.”
“Bloody hell!” Reese waded through the people and only stopped when he felt a hand on his bicep.
“You can’t go out in this weather.”
“She has my wife, O’Connor. What would you do?”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. You have a wife and children to think about. Dorothea must believe you’re dead by now. Let’s leave it at that. This is a fight for Circe and me.” He raced back to his room to retrieve his gun only to find it gone. “Dammit!” he roared.
“Here,” Sean handed him several guns.
“If that boy’s to be believed, she has her Sean.”
“Then get her back.”
He nodded without saying a word and left the room. He passed Ruth in the hall and saw that she was crying. Reese kept going, refusing to give up hope that Circe might still be alive. He entered the stables, grabbed a bridle, and readied one of the horses. He didn’t bother with a saddle, just jumped on bareback and clung to him as he urged him on at a dangerously fast pace, fighting with the wind and avoiding debris. As he approached the Hayhurst’s plantation house, he noticed a hazy orange glow on the horizon. It took a minute for his worry-laden mind to realize that the house was on fire and the torrential rain was doing nothing to put it out. He pushed the horse mercilessly until he felt the heat from the blaze. Reese jumped off the horse and ran to the front door. By some miracle it was unlocked. He opened the door and ran in to see flames licking at the ceiling and spreading to the walls. To his horror, he saw two people struggling in the shadowy depths of the third floor.
“Circe! I’m coming!”
“No!” he heard her yell back. He saw something burning arc through the air and completely engulf one of the people in flames. The person screamed and windmilled perilously close to the banister until they crashed over it. They fell, a human fireball, to the foyer floor.
“Circe! No!”
* * *
“Love? You are quite delusional to believe in love and all that nonsense. Women marry for power.”
“Not all of us are power hungry like you,” Circe countered.
“And that makes you weak!”
While Dorothea fought to free the knife, Circe turned and left the room. She knew the secret passage, but
she bet Dorothea knew she had knowledge of it as well since that was how she escaped before. She took the servants’ stairs, ran up to the third floor, and entered one of the rooms. Circe turned in a slow circle and took stock of where she was. It was a small bedchamber with the furniture covered in dust cloths.
“Where are you?” Dorothea asked in a sing-song voice.
Circe looked around the room, frantic to find some sort of weapon, but was not having any luck. Finally she saw a lantern filled with oil and grabbed it up. Just as she did, there was a bolt of lightning so bright with thunder crashing simultaneously that it caused Circe to drop the lantern with a loud crash to the hardwood floor.
“I hear you, my dear. Come out, won’t you? It’ll make it ever so much easier to kill you.”
Circe looked at the mess around her and tried to figure out how to make a weapon when the acrid smell of smoke reached her nostrils. The lightning strike must have hit the house after all, she thought to herself. I refuse to burn to death in here. Think! she ordered herself. The smoke smell grew stronger and was burning her nostrils and throat. She palmed a few of the larger shards of broken glass and crouched low in a corner, waiting for the door to open. She did not have long to wait.
“Ah, there you are.”
Circe saw Reese’s gun pointed at her.
“Did you know that I knew about you since I was a little girl?”
“What?” Circe asked, startled.
“Do you remember when I traced the lines on your palm when you first arrived?”
“Yes.”
“I knew then I was going to have to get rid of you.”
“What do you mean? Knew how?”
“Nanny saw you in my future. She told me you would be my downfall, but I can’t allow that to happen. If I want to live, that means you can’t.”
“That is ridiculous!” Circe yelled to be heard over the roaring of the storm.
“Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll take care of that gorgeous husband of yours.” Dorothea cocked the trigger on the gun. “By the time I’m done with him, he’ll forget you ever existed.”
Circe turned and charged at the door. The gun went off moments before she felt a searing pain in her upper arm. She slammed the door shut, catching Dorothea’s hand between it and the doorframe. The gun clattered harmlessly to the ground. Circe picked it up, uncertain what she would do with it. Dorothea took the opportunity to push open the door and pinned Circe between it and the wall. Circe took a shard of glass and dug it into Dorothea’s side. The woman howled in pain and stumbled backwards onto the balcony overlooking the foyer.
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