by L. R. Olson
She continued forward, stalking me like I was no more than a fox at a hunting party. “Been fifteen years since he shot his sire. Ten since he shoved his mother into the dowager house and he hasn’t seen her since.”
It wasn’t true. I wouldn’t believe it. She continued toward me, her steps sure and steady for a woman her age. “His brother came next. Killed in a hunting accident. But we all know the truth.”
People died all the time. Accidents, illnesses, old age. Unwillingly, I glanced at the portrait. Jamie stood aside, alone, aloof, just like now. Not a part of any family, he needed no one. Two men dead, leaving Jamie the heir. I wouldn’t believe it. I couldn’t. So why did a shiver race down my spine?
I jerked my gaze toward the nanny and glared at the woman, unsure if I was angry with her for implying James was a murderer, or angry at myself for that inkling of doubt that had crept into my mind. “He wouldn’t…he wouldn’t kill anyone.”
“You don’t think so?” She paused only a few steps away. So close I could see the deep craggily wrinkles crisscrossing her pale face. “The entire household knows how he’s treated you. Forcing himself on your person. His very wife.”
“He didn’t,” I said, defending him. “I wanted…”
What? Wanted him? I wouldn’t admit my desires to this old hag.
“He doesn’t love you, he merely wants an heir. He’s obsessed with continuing the line.”
I flushed. How did they know? Were they listening at the doors? Shame and humiliation combined, making my hands curl at my sides. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run from the room and find a place to cry, or slap the old witch for her impertinence.
“We all know how he seduced you, then forced you into marriage merely so he could punish you.” She arched a gray brow. “And punish you he has, hasn’t he?”
How could she possibly know the intimate details of our marriage? Who were these people? Everything I’d ever believed seemed suddenly false. Any safety I’d felt, however small, vanished. Would I know no privacy here? No peace?
She stepped closer, the scent of old age and decaying flesh overwhelming, and I had to resist the urge to step back. “Forcing you to marry him. What do you think he will do with you once you give him the children he needs? Let you go on your merry way? Think again. You’re doomed, child. There will be no reason for you to live. He’ll kill you just as he killed his father. His brother.”
“You’re insane!”
“Am I?” She snarled, her lips twisting. “I know this family. I know Jamie. I have for years. I’ve witnessed every sin in this home, every shame and abuse. And you know I’m right, you just don’t want to admit it.”
I didn’t wait to hear any more.
“Be rational, child.” She shook her head, feigning sympathy but I noted the glee in her gaze. “You know you can’t trust him. Deep down you knew you couldn’t trust him the minute you met him.”
Having had enough, I darted around the woman and raced toward the door.
“Heed my warning,” the woman called out.
They were mad. Every one of them was insane. I shoved open the door and ran down the hall. But I could not outrun my confusion, my fear, my unease. Was James truly such a monster? He’d cheated on Penny. He’d taken my virginity without care. Just to punish me, he’d forced me into marriage. And not once, in the weeks we’d been here, had he ever softened toward me…ever given any indication that he had forgiven me, that we could have the relationship I so desired, needed. I wanted to trust him, but maybe he was too far gone.
I couldn’t stay here.
Couldn’t stand to be trapped in the house any longer.
I stumbled down the servant’s steps.
“My lady?” a maid called out in concern as I rushed by. “Is something amiss?”
My lungs seemed to shrink and I suddenly found it hard to breathe. I ignored her and tore open the door I knew would lead into the kitchen gardens. The cool air swirled around me, calming my fevered skin. The dark moors called to me. Called…
****
James
“What the hell do you mean you can’t find my wife?”
I moved through the foyer and headed toward the front door. After having ridden around the estate to visit with crofters, I’d returned to my chambers to change. I’d stayed away from the house as long as possible, but lack of sleep and food had forced me to return. Yes, I’d been avoiding Jules. I hadn’t expected to be waylaid and told my wife had vanished.
“Gone, my lord.” My butler nervously explained as I tore open the front door and moved down the steps. Three hours. I’d been gone for three hours. When had she left? An hour ago? Two? Five?
“My horse,” I demanded of the groomsman.
Anger and fear combined in a lethal combination. The little idiot. Didn’t she realize how dangerous the moors could be? Furious, I scanned the open countryside, the rain-soaked clouds that hung heavy in the sky. Nothing. No stirrings or movement of any kind. Damn her.
“South, my lord.” The gamekeeper met me in the drive. “We found what we think are her prints heading south.”
She thought to flee, to make me look the fool. She would see soon enough that she was as trapped as I was in this damned marriage. If I was going to suffer, so would she. “How long ago?”
He rubbed his chin, gazing toward the south. “Can’t say.”
“My lord,” Mrs. Vita called out, rushing down the stairs. “A kitchen maid spotted her around dawn this morning.”
I glanced at the sun, not long over the horizon. One hour? Two? She couldn’t have gotten far. Not in the rain, the cold, and on foot. Where the hell did she think she would go? Walk to Dorset?
“My lord,” Mrs. Vita continued. “She seemed upset.”
“And no one thought to stop her?” I demanded, even knowing how unjust I sounded. She was lady of the house, no one would question her. Hell, she was going to regret leaving. I’d lock her in her bloody room, if I must.
“Your mount, my lord,” the stable lad called out, racing down the drive with the reins in hand. “A fresh horse.”
I knew it wasn’t fair to take my anger out on the staff. In reality I was more upset with myself than them. Damn it all, I should have watched her better. Should have known she’d try something so drastic. “I will find her.”
I mounted the horse.
“My lord, she could be injured, or…” Mrs. Vita tapered off, paling as she realized how close she’d come to speaking my worst fears.
“She is not dead,” I snapped through gritted teeth.
How dare she even think it.
“Of course not, but shall I call for the doctor in case she’s injured?”
“Yes.” Without further comment, I raced south, a cold panic spurring me forward. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The entire house was in an uproar, shirking their duties to search for Jules. By leaving she had not only set out to humiliate my family name, but upset my staff.
Thank God most of the servants had been with my family for years. They’d seen and heard things that could condemn us all. But they understood how to keep their mouths shut. So while I had to experience the humiliation of losing my wife in front of the staff, at least I knew it would not travel beyond the house.
I spurred the animal forward, heading away from the drive. Anything could happen out there. The wide expanse of the moors was an easy place to get lost, if the bogs didn’t get her first. I sure as hell didn’t need another death on my conscience.
What the hell had she been thinking?
“You could have wooed her. Picnics, flowers, walks across the moors. Hell, it doesn’t take much. It’s so bloody easy.”
Rafe’s words whispered through my mind.
I jumped a hedge and raced forward, my head bent against the wind and drizzle. Damn Rafe. He had no idea. The bastard hadn’t a worry. He slept with whomever he wanted then left them when he got bored. He was a rake, yet he judged me?
“Julianna!” I called out, even know
ing that she wouldn’t respond, for the moors were as desolate as always. Where was she?
The wind grew chill, a sudden breeze that relentlessly blew the misty rain. She’d catch cold, at the least. How long had she been gone? What if the scullery maid had been wrong and she hadn’t seen Jules this morn? Surely she hadn’t left in the middle of the night.
The sudden tightness in my chest had me urging my mount faster, leaving the trail and heading into the open land. I wasn’t worried about her. No. I never worried. Concern for my reputation? Yes. This family could not handle another scandal when the others had only recently faded.
“Where the hell are you, Jules?”
Suddenly the rain began to fall in earnest. I spurred my horse faster, undaunted. I would find her. I would not return home without her. But the farther I traveled the more my anger turned to unease. Damn it all, where was she?
Shite. She could have broken an ankle. Could have fallen into a bog. Could have been taken by bandits. Who the hell was I to think I could bring a woman here and she would survive? Even Jules, as strong-willed as she pretended to be, was still merely a sheltered lady.
If something happened to her it would be my own bloody fault. “Jules!”
Rain trailed into my eyes, practically blinding me. My hair was plastered to my head within moments, my clothing soaked through. But the cold only urged me onward. My anger and frustration gave way to panic. I paused, scanning the gray horizon. Nothing. Only the occasional large boulder.
I started to turn away in frustration when I spotted blue. A flutter of blue. A blue form huddled near a boulder in the distance. My relief was immediate. “Jules.”
I spurred my horse forward. But every pounding leap closer my heart raced a little harder. She wasn’t moving. Dear God, she wasn’t moving. For the first time in my life I knew real panic. I realized in that moment that I wanted Jules in my house, in my life. I needed not just her body, but her. Her.
“Jules!”
There was the subtlest shift of her legs, the slight tensing of her shoulders. She lifted her head and glanced over her shoulder. The relief I felt was short-lived. The paleness of her face worried me, and even from our distance apart I could see her body trembling. Hell, the woman didn’t even wear a blasted hat. She was completely exposed to the elements.
Seeing me, her eyes went wide. An innocent, lost and frightened upon the moors. Shock, fear, I wasn’t sure what flashed across those blue eyes, but I didn’t like it. As she stumbled to her feet I realized with some annoyance that the woman was going to try and run. Damn her. She’d put me through so much. I barely slowed as I reached her side. Instead, I leaned down, wrapped my arm around her waist and jerked her upward.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Jules?” I demanded as I slammed her down on my lap. I could no longer deny my feelings. The fear coursing through me was real and palpable. “Do you understand you could have been killed?”
She squirmed and struggled in my gasp, her wet locks slapping across my face. “I don’t care!”
Her refusal to see the rashness of the situation infuriated me. “Do you know how many men have been lost in the bogs? Their bodies consumed by the murk, never to be seen or heard from again?”
“So?” She gripped my arm, which was wrapped around her waist and pushed, but I wouldn’t release my hold. “What will you do? Kill me as you killed your father and brother, and bury me in the bogs?”
I froze. Everything inside my body turned to ice. With one sentence she had done what the weather could not and destroyed me.
How had she heard? She hadn’t known before we’d married, which meant someone here had told her. Someone in my home had betrayed me. Had Rafe admitted as much, wanting her for himself? No. He was too loyal. Pickens. I was sure of it. The witch.
She paused, the very energy leaving her body as she slumped into me, dejected. For a long, long moment neither of us spoke. We merely sat there as the horse shifted restlessly underneath us. Sat there as thunder rumbled and rain poured down, soaking us until we were more water than flesh.
“I won’t do it anymore,” she whispered, her breath catching. “I can’t. I’d rather kill myself than be married to you.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the chest. I sat there with my arm around her, studying the woman who was my wife, truly seeing her for the first time since I’d taken her virginity. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and something cracked within me. Anger and frustration and guilt swirled together…desire, need, lust. I wasn’t sure what the hell I was feeling. Tightening my grip around her waist, I turned my mount. As Rafe warned, I was slowly destroying her spirit. Crushing her soul. I was my father.
“I will not return home with you,” she said, through gritted teeth.
“Fine,” I snapped, spurring my mount forward. “I wasn’t planning on taking you there.”
Chapter 8
Julianna
I didn’t know where he was taking me and for the most part I no longer cared. Soaked through, my body had grown numb, my emotions locked away perhaps forever. He could kill me as he’d killed his father and brother and it wouldn’t matter.
I squeezed my eyes shut and huddled within his hold, unwillingly soaking up the warmth from his body while the rain slashed down around us. I wasn’t sure how long we raced across the moors but when my body was so cold I was no longer even shivering, he finally slowed.
Somehow I managed to open my eyes. A small cottage stood before us, the windows shuttered, the door closed, the house obviously empty. A private place where he could divest of me unseen, unheard. “Where are we?”
“A hunting lodge.”
He slid off the mount, then reached up for me. I didn’t want him to touch me, despised the fact that I needed his help, but I doubted I could stand on my own. And so I didn’t fight when he pulled me into his arms and carried me toward the door. It was only once we were inside the musty cottage that he let me go. I slid down his body, the friction almost unbearable. Ignoring the betraying heat that flared through my form, I focused on our abode. It was a small cottage with a bed, table, fireplace and not much more.
He closed the door and the room went dark. The scent of beeswax and lemon told me someone had kept the place clean. Away from the rain and wind, my body began to surge with feeling, my chilled skin tingling with life. James moved to the hearth and started a fire. Had he used this cottage before? Perhaps to meet with a mistress. Perhaps to kill his brother.
The flames brought the room to life, sending shadows dancing across the plastered walls. A deep shiver ran through my body, then another. Suddenly, I couldn’t seem to stop. I wrapped my arms around myself, horrified when my teeth started to knock together.
He turned toward me, his dark gaze glowing under the light of the flames. Demon eyes. Silence stretched uncomfortably between us. A silence that tore at my nerves, that made me shift in unease. The only noise in the cottage was the patter of rain on the walls and the crackle of the fire.
What did he want from me? He’d taken my innocence, my very life. Would he not be content until he had my soul? Who was the real James: caring brother or a selfish man without conscience?
“Come here,” he demanded.
This was it then…he would claim his next moment of intimacy here and now. I stumbled back. “No! I won’t.”
“Damnation, Jules!” He scrubbed his hands over his face in obvious frustration. “I’m not asking so I can take advantage of you.”
I didn’t believe him. Never would I trust the man again. “No!”
As feeling came back to my body, icy needles pierced my skin. I tried to turn and race for the door, but my legs were weak and cold and my body was not my own. I’d taken only a couple steps when I suddenly found myself spun around and shoved up against the wall.
“Let me go!” I slammed my palms against his chest as I fought my tears. James grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head, his hips and thighs crushed against me. Blast it all, I w
ould never win against him. He was too strong.
For a long, long moment we merely glared at each other, both of us panting for air. Fighting for control. Who was the person before me? Sinner or saint? Perhaps neither. Perhaps he was merely a man.
“I don’t trust you,” I said.
“I know.”
Suddenly his mouth was on mine. I wanted to slap him, to push him away. But even if he hadn’t pinned my arms above my head I knew I wouldn’t. It took only a touch, a brush of his lips against me, and I was his. Gone. Dizzy with need.
He shoved his knee between my thighs, parting my legs. I gasped into his mouth, arching my back and pressing my hips to his body. He was lean and strong and so handsome. Damnation, I wanted him with a desperation I’d never felt before. I wanted him even after all he had done. He released my wrists. Frantic, I threw my arms around his broad shoulders, keeping him close.
“Don’t ever run from me again,” he muttered against my lips. “You are mine, Jules. Mine.”
I whimpered as he deepened the kiss, almost brutal. It was as if we couldn’t get enough. He gripped my chin, forcing me to part my lips. With quickness that stunned me, he swept his tongue into my mouth. The heated passion that emanated from his body was fierce, consuming and warmed me to my very soul.
With a groan, I slid my hands down his arms, then up his shoulders. I couldn’t stop touching him. My body was no longer my own. I was lost. He growled low in his throat as he lifted my skirts. The material was thick and bulky between us, but it didn’t matter. His tongue probed the depths of my mouth as he undid his trousers. I was completely and utterly aware of the tip of his arousal pressing into my entrance.
With a gasp, my nails bit into his shoulders and I tore my mouth from his.
His gaze was dark, shimmering and intense. “You’re mine.”
He surged upward, lifting my hips and settling me atop him. I arched my back, taking him deeper. The feel of him inside of me was so incredibly right I wondered why I had run away at all. He rocked into me, pushing my back against the plastered wall as I wrapped my legs around his waist. It was uncomfortable and quick, but it was what I needed…what we both needed.