Captive Hearts (22 page)

With each step she took, she felt the strain of the ties she had made with Matthew and his family pulling at her.

They would care for Hannah and keep her safe, safer than the woman would ever be with her. She made it to the back gate without meeting another guard and gingerly lifted the latch. Cracking the gate only as wide as she needed, she slipped through.

She stifled a squeak of fear as a hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“Sorry, Miss Katherine. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” William took the valise from her.

“Are the men you have hired at Summerhaven, William?”

“Yes, I’ve got four waiting for us at the corner. They’ll ride guard.”

She nodded. “The guns are beneath the seat?”

“Yes, everything is just as you asked for it to be. Are you sure you want to do this?”

She swallowed against the knot of tears that lodged in her throat. “There was another murder last night, William. A maid inside the house was killed. I cannot put Matthew and his family in any more danger. I feel as though I no longer have a choice. I have one stop at Fleet

Street to make and then we can be on our way.” William’s ruddy complexion paled with the news. He took her elbow and escorted her down the street to the coach.

She eyed the four men who stood guard before the conveyance. They looked tough and hard. Each had a flintlock pistol tucked in the waistband of their breeches and carried a musket.

She settled into one of the coach seats, and William slammed the door. She felt the sway of the conveyance as the men positioned themselves on the vehicle.

With a jerk, the coach pulled away. Regret rode her hard with every step the horses took. She had known all along that she would have to say goodbye and that it would be painful to leave him no matter when or how it happened. At least she knew now what it was to be, if not loved, at least wanted. But the knowledge brought her no comfort. She had given herself to a man because she loved him, and he had taken what she had to offer for desire’s sake and nothing more. Matthew might care for her, but caring wasn’t enough. She deserved at least as much as she was willing to give. Didn’t she? Tears blurred her vision.

If only they had met before she had been ruined, he might have been able to care for her more. Perhaps if they had, had more time, he could have learned to love her.

Pain settled like a hard lump just beneath her breastbone. Love was like breathing, it just was. It could not be forced, and it could not be denied.

She supposed she had loved him from that first night when she had backed him into the closet. It had not been him she was afraid of, but herself. And now she was frightened for him. She hoped leading the men away from Willingham’s would be enough. As long as those she loved were safe, she could face whatever she had to.

****

“Continue to purchase the goods we will need for the trip, Carson. I’ll return as quickly as possible from Birmingham.” Matthew fought to keep his voice even, when in truth he wanted to growl the orders at his purser like an angry lion. “Aye, Captain. All will be ready when you return,

sir.” He nodded. Keep Georgie busy with his studies while I’m gone. We’ve been reading Shakespeare’s sonnets. The book is in his sea chest.”

“Aye, Captain.”

He drew deep breaths to try to stem the anger that pulsed through him white hot as a star. Once he got his hands on Katherine, she would regret this. Her disappearance had set the entire household at Willingham’s into a panic and given him a host of anxious moments. The desire to be off, to race to her side was so strong he could barely contain himself. The end of the month long deadline he had been given was drawing near.

His need to delegate authority among his men so that all would be ready on the Caroline for their voyage was the only thing holding him back.

He swung the leather valise off the bunk and flipped leather saddlebags over his shoulder. “We can share a boat back to shore if you like.”

“Thank you, sir.”

An icy wind whipped across the deck of the ship as they arrived topside. He ignored the discomfort, eager to get aboard the row boat and be on his way. The sudden appearance of a blond head and billowing cloak at the ship’s railing brought an oath to his lips.

“Is there a problem, sir,” Carson asked at his side.

“No,” he said his tone short. “Take these to the boat.

I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Yes, sir.” Carson accepted the articles then strode down the deck to the railing. Matthew watched as he tipped his tricorn to Jacqueline then moved on.

“Hello Matthew,” Jacqueline breathed as she joined him. “Lady Rudman,” He tipped his head to her in greeting.

Jacqueline’s smile faltered then widened. “How formal you sound,” she said in a cajoling tone as she brushed the tangled blond curls from her forehead where the wind wreaked havoc with them.

Impatience thrust through his control. “What is it I may do for you Jacqueline?”

Her green gaze ran down him and she smiled. “I

learned from an acquaintance that your wife has returned to her home in Birmingham to pack for her journey and thought perhaps you were lonely.” He stared at her for a moment. “What acquaintance?

When did you learn of it?”

“I do not mind your knowing who told me. ‘Twas Matilda Herrington. Her husband has investments with the paper, and he mentioned it to her.” He shook his head. “And, how would she have known about Katherine’s trip?”

“Well, it is to be announced in tomorrow’s paper.” He swore as disbelief and anger ripped through him liked the crest of a wave. Damn the woman, did she not know the danger she was placing herself in?

“Really, Matthew you were never so rude before.” Jacqueline’s tone drew his attention back to her.

Tamping down his emotions he said, “I apologize for my language, Jacqueline. I haven’t got time right now to be sociable. I’m on my way to meet my wife at Summerhaven.”

“Sociable.” She repeated the word, a frown drawing her pale brows together, her eyes narrowing. “Is that how you describe our past relationship, as sociable

?” He mentally girded himself for the battle to come.

“No, Jacqueline. But from now on, all I’m interested in is a social connection between us, nothing more.” Her lips tightened, her green eyes acquiring the wide-eyed look of a cat getting ready to spit, snarl, and attack. “You are dismissing me, as though I were nothing.”

“No, Jacqueline. I’m accepting my responsibilities and committing myself to my marriage. That means staying faithful to my wife. It isn’t that difficult to understand. You might want to think about how much you risk every time you act on impulse.” Jacqueline’s cheeks grew a hot, angry red and her mouth went tight. “How dare you call me to task for my behavior. I was not the only one in the bed we shared, Matthew.”

“No, you weren’t, but that was another time and place when we were both free to pursue other pleasures and entertainments. You are not the only one in your

marriage bed, Jacqueline. If I were your husband, I wouldn’t wish to share it with another man. Should he find out you are here pursuing me, how do you think he will react?”

“You would not dare tell him,” she said with a toss of her head.

He stepped closer to her, his gaze fastening on her face intently. He couldn’t risk being imprisoned again and he wouldn’t. He had too much to lose. “Your visiting me here won’t just affect your marriage. It can affect mine as well. If you persist, I will tell him. Go home. Pursue your husband with as much persistence as you are showing me.” “But…he is old, Matthew,” she almost wailed.

“You had no problem using your imagination when we were together.” He shrugged.

Jacqueline’s features settled into sulky lines. She turned on her heel and stomped across the deck to the railing. She flashed him one more look laced with resentment and longing before she backed down the rope ladder.

“Trouble, Cap’in?” Henry asked as he joined him at the railing.

He looked out on the water at the rowboat’s progress that bore Jacqueline back to shore. “Should Mrs. Rudman return, deny her access to the Caroline, Henry. She’s no longer welcome on board.”

Henry started to smile then caught himself and bobbed his head instead. “Aye, Cap’in.” He backed down the ladder, his thoughts already focused on the journey ahead. He had perhaps a day to reach Katherine before the murderers took the bait.

Darkness pressed in on Katherine, weighted by the heavy sound of her breathing and the frantic beat of her heart. She scratched at the surface of the door searching for the latch to open it. The wood peeled away in splinters, piercing her palms and making them slick with blood. Low mewing came from the other side of the panel and she called out to her mother and brother.

A dull metallic gleam caught her eye. Her fingers traced the shape of the object. Nails poked along the edge of the door digging into her fingers, and she jerked her hand back.

The groans grew weaker. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a feverish desperation to reach what lay behind the door. Katherine shoved against the portal unmindful of the spikes that poked her flesh and tore wounds into her arms and sides.

The door popped open so suddenly she staggered and nearly fell down the long flight of stairs that stretched before her. Fear of what lay below held her suspended on the edge. A tormented moan called to her. Compelled to follow the sound, she ran down the steep flight.

She burst from the stairwell into a pale golden circle of light, barren and cold. Johnny, his chest bloody, lay crumpled at her feet, his eyes staring sightlessly up at her. A primal sound of grief tore from her throat, but was lost in the sound of howling behind her. Fear lanced through her lightning quick, stealing her breath. She jerked around. A pack of Wolves, ten in all stood behind her. Their eyes glowed, lit from within by an unholy fire.

Their movements stealthy, their fangs bared, they began to spread out to encircle her. Katherine shuffled backwards, her limbs nearly frozen with fear. A large beast, twice the size of the rest, inched forward, his gaze intent upon her, his body tensed to spring.

She turned and ran into the darkness. Brush tore at

her clothing and hair as she pushed through the waist-high brambles that blocked her way. The animals’ baying grew louder, their hot breath nipping at her heels. Wild with fear, Katherine broke free of the underbrush into a clearing.

The hard crushing weight of something large hit her from the side knocking her to the ground. She screamed as white fangs, dripping with saliva gleamed above her, snapping at her face. She gripped the fur on either side of the animal’s head to hold him at bay. He shook his head, twisting from her grasp. His teeth sank into her arm, tearing at her flesh. Pain arched through her as blood, coppery and hot, splattered her cheek and jaw, the salty taste of it permeating her mouth. She threw up an arm to shield her face as he lunged forward and ripped into her throat, cutting off her guttural cries in midstream.

Suddenly the wolf was not a wolf at all, but a man, his face young, his features hard and cruel. The blood that soaked the ground glowed silver, then blue and became a scarf. He pulled it tighter and tighter about her throat, blocking her air, crushing her windpipe.

Katherine woke to the harsh gasping sound of her own breathing. Her hands clawed at her throat tearing at empty air as she surged to a seated position. Her sleep-clogged mind began to clear and a sob of relief bubbled up from her fear-parched throat. Her limbs felt weak and rubbery. The linen sheets, twisted about her, were clammy with sweat. She reached for Matthew, needing his presence to reassure her. The bed beside her was empty. For a moment, overwhelming loneliness compounded her response to the dream.

She pressed her face against her up-drawn knees.

Seeing her brother’s blood soaked body and empty eyes each time the dream came to her, was almost more than she could bear. She experienced the crushing loss as though it had just happened. For months, she had been plagued by the images. Not just of Johnny, but of her mother, her father, and James, their driver. It always ended in her running from the killers and being caught and brutalized.

Anger so deep it made her chest feel tight, brought a heated flush to her skin. It overpowered the soul shaking

terror of only moments before and replaced it with a strong resolve. She was through running. She’d had enough of being afraid.

Untangling herself from the bedclothes, she rolled to her feet and reached for the butt of the flintlock pistol on the bedside commode. She crossed to the window and looked out.

“Come get me, damn you,” she challenged.

Frost coated the rolling contours of the grounds. The reflective light of a new dawn etched the surface of the paddock railings with silver. Though the stables stood in shadow, she could see the doors stood wide, an open maw waiting to conceal anyone who stepped through. It could harbor any number of attackers.

She frowned, annoyed. She had asked for the doors to be closed and secured just for that reason. It was too late to do anything about it now. Setting aside the flintlock, she reached for the discarded gown at the foot of her bed.

The fragile light of a single candle lit her way as she traversed the long hall to the gallery just above the front stairs. She left the taper upon a table in the entryway hall and let herself out. Sunrise was only moments away. The air felt icy and looked achingly clear. Folding her cloak closer about her, Katherine paused to listen to the crisp silence, her breath shooting white plumes of steam into the air. The grass beneath her feet made a brittle crunch as she walked across the slopping front lawn to the stables.

Outside the building, she hesitated and listened for any unfamiliar sound. A bay colored horse with a white blaze poked an inquisitive head over a stall door and nickered to her. She entered the structure and paused beside the animal to rub its velvety nose and pat its neck.

Sultan neighed from the other end of the building, the shape of his head midnight dark in the shadows.