One Sinful Night (29 page)

When she managed to escape this maniacal idiot, which she was certain she would, for she had no intention of sitting back meekly and becoming Jackson's wife, Aidan would never forgive her this transgression. Once again, it seemed she was doing something to deceive Aidan or to hurt him. Once again, she looked the faithless harlot in Aidan's eyes. Once again…How could it be that fate conspired to ruin her twice? For she would surely be ruined now.

Her heart sank. She had lost Aidan forever.
Again.

As the carriage continued on the bumpy, puddle-lined road moving farther away from London and all the people she loved, Vivienne could not help the tears that spilled from her eyes. The edgy silence within the dim interior lengthened. She reached for a handkerchief from her reticule to wipe her eyes.

“Don't cry, Vivienne.”

His soft voice startled her. She continued wiping her tears, ignoring him.

She wondered if he had been insane all along or if he had suddenly lost his mind this very day. For he was surely stark, raving mad. Maybe it was when he injured his head in the boat accident. In either case there was no doubt that she was in the captivity of a mentally unbalanced person. That gave her pause. She could outsmart an insane man, couldn't she? She couldn't simply sit there and cry. As Aggie always told her, she needed to keep her wits about her. Now more than ever. She needed to be alert and ready at a moment's notice to take an opportunity to flee him the second one presented itself. Perhaps if she played along, she might lull him into a false sense of security, and he might let down his guard.

“I'm crying because I had no idea you cared so much for me, Jackson.”

In the growing dimness, she felt rather than saw his gaze on her, assessing her.

“I do care for you, Vivienne. I'm sorry things turned out this way. I know this is not how you imagined your wedding to be. I wish it could be different for us.”

“I do, too,” she whispered. She positively wished things were different.

They continued on for a long time in silence after that. It was now fully dark out and the rain continued to pour. The carriage rumbled to a halt. Jackson suddenly sat up straight, donned his gloves and hat, and threatened, “We're here. If you say one word to anyone you will regret it.”

He removed his black cape and flung the door open. Leaping from the carriage, he turned to help her down. Vivienne tried not to flinch when he touched her, placing his cape around her shoulders. Raindrops pelted her face.

They were at the entrance of The Pig and Whistle, a typical country inn. A tall gentleman rushed out to greet them with a large umbrella. “Good evening, my lord. We have your room ready for you, just as you requested. Follow me through the back entrance.”

Before Vivienne had a chance to catch the man's eyes, Jackson quickly ushered her into the inn, gripping her arm rather tightly, up the small wooden staircase, down a dim corridor, and into the end room before she could make eye contact with a single person. Obviously he did not intend for her to speak to anyone. Her spirits sank. She stood nervously, waiting to see what Jackson expected of her.

“I'll bring your supper shortly. In the meantime, make yourself at home.” He flashed that chilling golden grin at her, and held up a long key. “There's no way out, so don't even attempt it, Vivienne.” He closed the door behind him and she heard the key turn in the lock.

Trapped inside a strange building with a demented man who terrified her, Vivienne looked around nervously. Apparently, the plain room had been prepared for her. The lamps had been lit and a fire burned on the hearth. It was acceptable enough, and at least it was clean. The large canopied bed in the center of the room gave her chills. Yet, relief flooded her at simply being removed from Jackson's presence and her knees almost buckled now from the strain she had been under. Flinging off Jackson's offensive black cape, she sank onto a small divan, trembling.

Vivienne took a deep breath and willed herself not to cry and fall apart now.
Think. There must be some way out of this room.
She went to the door and quietly tried the handle anyway, knowing it to be a futile gesture. It was most definitely locked. She walked to the small rain-streaked window that faced out toward the back of the inn and peered into the darkness. A brief flash of lightning allowed her to see nothing more than woods surrounding the inn. Attempting to open the window, she discovered that it had been bolted firmly shut.

She sighed in resignation, leaning her head against the cool pane of glass. She was agile but she didn't know if she could survive a two-story drop without injuring herself, even if she could squeeze her petite frame through the small opening. And where would she go in the middle of the night, without a farthing to her name and no idea where she was? In the pouring rain? Wearing nothing but a thin tea gown and dainty slippers? That was providing that Jackson didn't catch her. The thought of him extracting his wrath upon her, stopped her from imagining she could flee from this room. There was no telling what he was capable of. She knew when she made her move to escape it would be when he had no chance to reclaim her. But she'd be damned if she would marry him tomorrow.

Think, Vivienne, think!

He said that he would be marrying her tomorrow. That would also mean that there would have to be a chaplain and witnesses. Vivienne would just have to say something to
make
them help her.

In the meantime she had the night to survive. Glancing around the room for some sort of weapon, she noted a heavy china pitcher and a bowl resting on the small dresser. She could hardly surprise him with that. Oh, what wouldn't she give for a sharp pair of scissors or a butcher knife. Or a pistol. Her father had taught her to shoot one summer. She had fired many a shot into Galway Bay when she was fifteen.

The key turned in the lock and Vivienne almost jumped out of her skin. She faced the door as Jackson entered the room carrying a tray filled with food for her. He closed the door behind him. The tray was adorned with a single red rose in a small bud vase. Glancing furtively, she noted there was a fork on the tray. And a sharp knife.

He placed the tray on the side table. “I've brought your supper.”

She merely nodded at him, attempting a faint smile.

He advanced on her, crossing the room in long strides. She would have backed away, but she was already pressed against the wall. He placed a hand on either side of her, bracing himself against the wall behind her, and she froze in place.

“You're so beautiful, Vivienne.”

His frighteningly handsome face inched closer to hers, and she could smell the heavy cologne he wore. He breathed hotly next to her cheek and a wave of revulsion swept through her. His lips brushed along the line of her jaw, up to her ear, and he whispered, “You are awfully quiet, Vivienne. That's not like you.”

Spurred by disgust and revulsion, she suddenly pushed away from him. “Honestly, Jackson, are you daft? Would you expect me to be anything else but quiet?”

Startled by her sudden move, he glared at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Vivienne's anger and fear had gotten the best of her and she had lashed out, her Irish brogue in full force, as tended to happen when she was irate. “You misled me into coming with you! You're holding me against my will, taking me from my family and the man I love, and expecting me to marry you. I'd hardly call that cause for my rejoicing!” She had meant to lull him into a false sense of security. To lead him to believe she wanted to be with him. Too late now. Fear of his retribution settled over her, but she did not regret a single word she'd said.

Jackson regarded her appreciatively and chuckled low in his throat. “There's my spirited Irish beauty. The one who dared to visit me in my office unchaperoned.” He stepped toward her.

There was no way to back up unless she went toward the bed and she was definitely not heading in that direction willingly, so Vivienne did not move a muscle. Jackson moved closer to her, bringing his hands behind her head, threading his fingers through her hair, slowly loosening it from its upswept style, sending chills down her spine. With a cold sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, she flinched as he pulled her head towards his. In an instant Jackson placed his mouth roughly over hers.

Aidan rode as if the devil himself were after him. With Gregory and George riding close behind him, they followed the road north from London to find Jackson Harlow. And Vivienne.

Vivienne.

Aidan could think of nothing but Vivienne and how he regretted blaming her and treating her so terribly. Especially when none of it had been her fault. He had been a fool, and she had been manipulated and devastated. Vivienne, who had always been a friend to him. His smart, brave, beautiful girl. All the lost time, all the wasted years, that they could have spent together. Now he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms again and tell her how sorry he was. And that he loved her. He always had and he always would.

He was damned if he would lose her a second time to the likes of Jackson Harlow. He could not lose her now. If only he wasn't too late…

They rode through the darkness, taking the mud-covered road toward the little village of Fair Haven. The three of them did not speak, they just kept moving through the rainy darkness. The journey was slow and the puddles deep. The rain was finally lessening to a drizzle, and Aidan urged his horse to go faster.

The dim lanterns in front of an inn flickered in the distance. He prayed he was following the right path. The wooden sign that blew in the wind declared the inauspicious place as The Pig and Whistle. He wiped the rain from his face and reigned in his horse. If Harlow had Vivienne captive inside that inn, Aidan wanted to catch him unaware, to prevent him from harming her. Gregory and George quickly caught up to him.

“You think he's here?” Gregory called.

“It's the only place to stop that we've come across. He's either here, or he pressed on ahead. But with the way the rain was coming down, I doubt he could have continued on this road in a carriage. I'd lay odds that he's inside. With Vivienne.”

George said, “Let me check to see if his carriage is here first. We don't want to tip him off.” He rode down the lane around and disappeared behind the inn to the stables.

“I can't just wait here,” Aidan said after a moment. “I'm going in.”

Gregory followed in agreement as they made their way through the mud to the entrance. Aidan dismounted and handed his reins to Gregory.

“Go ahead. I'll be right behind you,” Gregory said.

Aidan entered the inn, which was fairly crowded with road-weary travelers seeking refuge from the earlier downpour. He scanned the main room quickly, seeing many faces, but none that belonged to Harlow. Or Vivienne. He walked to the large wooden bar and motioned to the innkeeper.

The balding, red-cheeked man smiled broadly at him. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Did a gentleman rent rooms for the evening? A blond gentleman named Harlow with a beautiful dark-haired lady?” Aidan asked.

“Don't know about the lady. Or at least the dark-haired part. Didn't get a good look at her myself. But we got a fancy blond gentleman by the name of Harlow upstairs with his wife.”

Aidan's heart flipped over at that description.
Wife.
They couldn't have had time to marry. It was impossible. “That's not his wife,” he said pointedly.

“Really, now?” The innkeeper's chubby face lit up with a greedy gleam in his eyes. “Then just who would she be?”

“My fiancée.” Aidan handed the man a pound note.

“Ah.” He nodded his shiny bald head in understanding, taking the money eagerly in his fat fingers and pocketing it. “Upstairs. Last room at the end of the hallway. Good luck to you.”

Aidan turned to find Gregory standing right beside him. “Harlow had an accomplice in the stables. George is posted outside just in case Harlow tries to escape.”

“He's not going to escape,” Aidan said determinedly.

Moving with haste, the two of them made their way up the narrow staircase and down the length of the dimly lit corridor. Listening intently outside, the sound of muffled voices in the room panicked him. His heart pounding, Aidan kicked open the door to the last room at the end of the hallway. The wooden door splintered from its hinges and swung forward drunkenly. Inside he saw Vivienne sprawled on the bed, half-dressed, her dark hair spilling around her. With Jackson on top of her.

The image spun his mind back to another time and place, but to an eerily similar situation. This time he did what he should have done ten years ago.

 

Vivienne screamed when the door burst open. She screamed for all she was worth. She didn't care who came in, she didn't care who heard her, as long as it was someone,
anyone,
who could help her. She wanted Jackson to release her, to stop kissing her, stop touching her.

She had been fighting him tooth and nail for what seemed like forever. And she was exhausted. When he first kissed her, she had kicked him as hard as she could. Surprised by that move, he had hauled off and slapped her face, almost taking the breath from her. Then he pushed her toward the bed. That was when she first tried to scream. He placed his large hand over her mouth to silence her shouts for help.

That caused her to fight like a banshee. She bit his hand, drawing blood while still kicking him every chance she got. She managed to land a solid and satisfying kick to his groin, rendering him momentarily stunned. She broke from his grip and made her way to the door, but he still had the key. She pounded on the door, yelling for help. The only response was someone across the hall demanding they be quiet. She raced to the food tray and grabbed the sharp knife she had seen earlier. By then Jackson had recovered, and he had grabbed her legs and tripped her.

Both of them sprawled on the ground, knocking over the table that held the china pitcher and bowl. As the dishes shattered on the floor, he slapped her again, pulling the knife from her hand and calling her filthy names she had never heard before. She managed to utter a few choice epithets back at him, thanks to her bawdy tutelage from Gregory and George.

While she lay on the floor, Jackson pinned her arms to her side with his legs as he straddled her. He laughed at her, a gleam of admiration in his eyes. “You're amazing, Vivienne. Truly an amazing woman. But you can't beat me. I play to win. Remember?” He uttered menacingly, placing the sharp blade of the knife against the soft flesh of her throat. “I didn't want to play this way. But you started it.”

The fight immediately went out of her. Then he kissed her again, his wet lips moving over hers insistently. Fearing the finely honed knife at her throat, she did not move, did not so much as breathe as his tongue entered her mouth. Revulsion filled her and she desperately wanted to shove him away from her.

Then he lifted his head and ordered coldly, “Now, get up and lie down on that bed or, as much as I'd hate to, I will slice your pretty face to ribbons.”

Trembling, she did as she was told, all the while she felt the point of the knife at her throat. She lay awkwardly on the bed, horror sweeping through her. Jackson straddled her once again, his eyes feral and wild.

“This would be so much better if you were willing,” he whispered low and close to her ear. “I don't know why you had to fight me like that. Be nice now, Vivienne. Be nice…”

He slowly moved the knife along her throat and slipped it beneath the collar of her dress. With one swift stroke he split open the front of her blue and white striped tea gown clear through to her chemise. He grinned lasciviously at her naked breasts.

Everything happened at once. There was a splintering crash, loud voices and shouts, the sound of heavy boots on the floor. Suddenly men rushed into the room. That was when Vivienne began screaming. Jackson's hand came back down over her mouth, silencing her. He hauled her up off the bed instantly, wrapping one arm around her, the other hand holding the knife to her throat once more.

The knife kept her from screaming.

Her heart pounded crazily with fright, but she finally managed to take stock of her surroundings, her eyes searching the room. She almost collapsed with relief when she saw Gregory, her endearing and faithful cousin, standing in the doorway. He was frozen in place, ready to protect her, but not daring to move for fear of endangering Vivienne's precarious position. Her terrified gaze moved toward the other man who had burst into the room. Powerful and dark, a look of undisguised rage on his handsome features, he stood to Vivienne's right. Aidan's familiar green eyes locked on her.

She wanted to cry then. Aidan had come for her. Aidan knew she did not go willingly with Harlow. He would not have been there if he believed she left him. His eyes told her so.

“Let her go, Harlow,” Aidan demanded.

“Make a move toward me, and I will slit her lovely throat,” Jackson responded.

“You won't kill her. You haven't married her yet,” Aidan countered. “And you want those diamond mines of hers too desperately.”

Aidan knew the truth. He knew what had happened. Vivienne was stunned.

Jackson laughed ruefully. “Get out of here and go marry that haughty blonde your mother chose for you. Leave Vivienne with me.”

“Let go of her now or I will kill you.”

Jackson laughed in derision. “You think you have it all figured out, don't you, Whitlock?”

“Yes. I have it all figured out.” Aidan's voice was deadly calm. “And it's over for you.”

“Did you know your mother paid me to take your fiancée today?”

Vivienne actually sucked in her breath at that dramatic revelation. She noticed that Aidan did not look surprised at all, but Gregory's mouth hung open wide. Susana Kavanaugh had surpassed all Vivienne's worst imaginings. The woman truly loathed her to go to such lengths to get her out of her son's life. She had been sold to a madman by Aidan's mother. But, thankfully, Aidan knew the truth.

Jackson continued to taunt Aidan. “She actually gave me quite a large sum of money to marry Vivienne. Something I was planning to do all along.”

Aidan did not react, but said icily, “I know you stole that load of cotton from my ship. I know you set fire to my warehouse. I know that you bribed Travers to set the fire, didn't pay him, and then killed him when he harassed you for what you owed him. I know you've destroyed your family's business reputation and that you stole all the money from your brother's office today. I know that you
think
you're going to marry Vivienne to get the deeds to her father's diamond mines, which now belong to her.”

“Get out!” Jackson yelled, pulling Vivienne closer to him.

“You're the worst kind of coward to hide behind a woman.”

“Don't push me, Whitlock!”

“Let her go now,” Aidan repeated, and he deliberately reached into his pocket and removed a pistol. He pointed it directly at Jackson. “Or I'll kill you.” His intense gaze never left Vivienne.

Vivienne pleaded with her eyes, praying that neither of them would do something impulsive. She now had a knife at her throat and a gun pointed in her general direction. They were at an impasse and it did nothing to calm her. But suddenly she knew what she had to do to save herself. In a split second, she jerked backward, away from Jackson and the knife. With that fleeting movement she gave Aidan a wider target. The sound of a deafening gunshot echoed in the room and Vivienne screamed as she was rushed by both Gregory and Aidan as Jackson Harlow crumpled to the floor at her feet.

 

Gregory grabbed Jackson and held him down, taking no chances with him in spite of his wound. He was shot in the leg, for Aidan had aimed low in order to not hurt Vivienne. Bright red blood pooled on the floor around Jackson as Gregory made sure he couldn't cause any more trouble and began to bind the wound with a bedsheet. George rushed in, followed by the fat innkeeper while a group of patrons gathered at the door to the room. George hurriedly called for someone to send for a doctor and the constable.

Meanwhile Aidan had gathered a visibly shaken Vivienne in his arms, wrapping her protectively in his cloak. He lifted her off her feet in one swift motion, holding her securely, and asked the innkeeper to take them to an empty room. He carried her through the growing crowd of onlookers, and followed the innkeeper down the narrow corridor and into another small guest room. The fat innkeeper, instinctively knowing more pound notes would be coming his way, promised them anything they wanted and shut the door discreetly as he left the pair alone.

In the ensuing silence Aidan placed Vivienne on the narrow bed along the wall, and propped her up with pillows. He sat alongside of her and kissed her forehead tenderly. “Are you all right?”

“You came for me,” she whispered, looking at him in wonder, as if she could not believe he was really there.

He felt a pang of remorse at the look on her face. “Did he hurt you?” He gently touched his hand along her cheek where the darkening colors of purple bruises were swelling in the shape of fingers on her white skin. He wished he had killed Harlow and was half tempted to go back down the hall and finish the job, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Vivienne now.

She shook her head wearily at his question. “I'm fine. You got there just in time. I don't think I could have fought him off much longer.”

Aidan's heart had almost stopped beating when he burst in that room and saw Jackson with a knife at Vivienne's throat. The front of her dress torn apart, her dark hair tangled around her, and a panicked expression filling her sapphire eyes. She'd looked terrified and he could only imagine what Jackson had done to her.

“I thought you would believe that I wanted to be with him,” Vivienne whispered low, her voice catching. “I never thought you would come for me, Aidan.”

“I know,” he said ruefully, shaking his head. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry I didn't believe you. You warned me to stay away from him and I didn't listen to you. I thought he was trying to help me find out about my father, but now I know he only wanted the deeds to the diamond mines. You were right about him all along.”