Rebecca (42 page)

As she watched them walk along the long passage from the beach, she wondered why he had brought the other man with him. He had proven that he could control her effectively by himself. The reason became obvious when the leader drew his pistol and trained it on her as the second man pushed the plank back into place.

He laughed as he saw her expression. “Just in case you got the idea that you could knock me off when I cross, Rebecca. It wouldn't be very smart to do that. No one but my men and I know where you are. How long do you think it would take you to starve to death if you sent us to our deaths?”

Stubbornly, she refused to answer. She would not delight this man by showing her fear. Through the night, as the candle burned lower and lower, she had wondered if he truly would come back and bring her more food and light. She knew how small her chances of survival were whether her captor lived or died. She had sat on the hard bed and watched the tidal waters advance slowly along the floor to the rim of the crevice where the man with the gun now stood. As water filled the entrance to the cave far down the tunnel, night had taken over her world. By the time the waters began to recede, she had known that she had to find a way to escape before this man found time to kill her. He would never let her go back to Nicholas with her tale of abuse.

Only the leader came across the plank. When he was on her side, he signaled his companion to wait for him outside the cave. He tossed a pair of food packages and a canister of water on her bed and placed several candles on the table. When she continued to ignore him, he took her arm and spun her to face him.

She could not see his appreciative smile as he stared at his lovely captive. Even though her gown was dirtied and her hair tangled, she looked as lovely as when he had pulled her from the Foxbridge carriage. For the first time, she was his to enjoy as he wished. He had been waiting a long time for the opportunity to have this woman for his own. Without the imposing Lord Foxbridge to protect her, she would be easy prey when he chose to take her sweet softness.

He twisted her arm painfully behind her and was pleased to hear her involuntary mew of pain. “Not even a thank-you for your provisions, Rebecca? Don't they teach you better manners than that in the colonies?”

Her blue eyes rose to meet his. In her cold stare, there was no sign of the terror she had experienced for the last eighteen hours. He shifted his eyes away, unable to meet her unrelenting gaze for long. With a curse, he pushed her toward the bed.

“Play games with me, Rebecca, and you will be sorry. I hope you can take orders better than that foolish husband of yours. He is trying to find your trail, but he is unlikely to trace you here. Even if he gets as far as where we were in the forest, all the hoofprints going in multiple directions will confuse him. Of course, our way was disguised very well, first by the rocks over our heads, then by the waves which so neatly washed away the prints of the horse we rode here.” He laughed his maniacal laugh. “Don't worry, my dear Lady Foxbridge. If he gets close to your little hideaway, you will know about it.” Putting his hands around her neck, he said, “It will be the very last thing you know.”

Her hands reached up to grab his wrists as he slowly tightened his grip on her throat. For the first time, the fear she felt was visible on her face. Rebecca clawed at his arms as he forced her back onto the cot. Before her eyes, his cloth-covered face steadily turned into a blur. The sound of the rushing ocean waves filled her ears as she lost consciousness.

The first thing she heard when she opened her eyes was her warder's chuckle. She looked up into the mask which hid his face from her. Involuntarily, she cried out in denial as his fingers brushed the bare skin above the neckline of her gown. Although bright speckles of light danced before her eyes, she sat and backed away from him. Pressing against the clammy wall, she stared up at him in horror. She could not see the rest of his face, but his eyes told her of his lust for her.

When he reached for her, his hands were not hidden by the riding gloves he had worn for her abduction. She screamed. He did not touch her. Instead he picked up the pendant Nicholas had given her the previous day. With a sharp tug, he ripped it from her neck. Her hands stretched out to take it back, but he slapped them away.

“Is this precious, Lady Foxbridge?”

As he waved it before her, she tried to grasp it again. He kept it just beyond her fingers. Frustration raised her voice as she ordered, “Give it back. It isn't valuable, except to me.”

“To you and Lord Foxbridge, do you mean? He would know it was yours, wouldn't he?”

“Yes,” she admitted slowly. “Nicholas gave it to me. Sir, it has no real worth. Give it to me.”

He laughed and tossed it lightly in the air. When he caught it, he secured it in an inner pocket of his coat. “I think I will see it is returned to Lord Foxbridge. As I said, he is ignoring my instructions. Luckily for you, my dear, you were wearing this. I will send this to him as a warning. I would have hated to maim your pretty body.”

“You won't intimidate Nicholas!” she asserted.

“I think you are wrong, my lady. When this bit of gold is returned to his lordship with its accompanying note, I think I will soon be reporting to you that Nicholas Wythe is being much more patient. The note will tell him that if he continues to disregard my orders, he will be given more of your jewelry next time.” He picked up her left hand. “I will send him your wedding band with your slender finger still wearing it.”

In disgust, she pulled away. Her brow furrowed as he turned to the table where the candle burned brightly. When he blew it out to enwrap them in darkness, she blindly tried to rise from the bed. She did not need to guess what he intended to do to her. She knew.

He grasped her shoulders and pressed her to the thin mattress. Her cries of protest were silenced as he put his mouth over hers. In the deep gloom, he did not worry about her seeing his face well enough to recognize him in the light, so he had removed his mask. His lips held hers captive.

Fighting her revulsion, she lifted her hands to slide them along his arms. She must have any clue to learn the identity of the man who had imprisoned her. When his tongue forced its way into her mouth, she struggled not to gag. At the same time, her fingers stroked the surf-dampened strands of his stylishly long hair. Slowly, she drew her hands forward. If she could touch his face, she might be able to discern some feature to solve the mystery.

As her fingertips rested on his cheeks, his broad hand came up to wrap around both of them. In one smooth motion, he pulled them to rest on the pillow over her head. “You will never learn, will you, Rebecca?” he growled. “I'm beginning to lose patience with you. You are nowhere near as clever as you seem to think you are. I enjoyed your sweet touch, my lady, although I discerned immediately what you planned. Learn to behave, or you will have more harsh lessons than this one.”

She cried out as he struck her viciously. Something sharp cut into her cheek, and a flash of pain seared through her. She forgot it when his hand grasped the top of her gown's bodice and ripped it to reveal the whiteness of her chemise which glowed ghostly in the dark. His body imprisoned her as she struggled to avoid his fingers slipping beneath her camisole to caress her. With her hands held securely over her head, she could not push him away. Not releasing her, he bent to place his mouth against her bared skin as his hand raised her full skirts to allow him to stroke her legs.

She moaned in complete horror. The love she had shared with Nicholas made this man's pawing even more disgusting. As his mouth moved with leisurely appreciation along the curve of her breast, her fingers clenched in impotent fury.

When his fingers encountered the scars on her right leg, he murmured against her skin, “It is a pity that your perfect body was maimed. How lucky for me that you weren't killed that day! I wouldn't have had this opportunity to enjoy you.”

She spat a curse at him, and he laughed. When his mouth touched her skin again, it was not gentle, and she cried out in pain. This was his greatest perversion, for he made the motions which should be loving into a vehicle for his revenge against her and her husband for some unknown crime.

The man sat and relit the candle. When she realized, with astonishment, that he was not going to rape her immediately, she saw his mask was firmly in place once more. Her hands held closed the tatters of her gown. Not that it mattered, for he had explored her body well enough to know what was hidden beneath her clothes.

“You're fun to play with, Rebecca,” he taunted. “We shall have a lot of fun after I take care of your lord husband.” His hand caressed her bruised skin where his cruelty had injured her.

“Why?” she gasped as she brushed tears from her eyes. “Why are you doing this to us? Why do you hate Nicholas and me so much?”

His fingers touched her face again lightly. He frowned as he saw the cut on her cheek and knew it had happened when he had struck her. As he had done the day before, lifting his mask slightly, he kissed the bloodstains which discolored her face. He laughed maliciously as she flinched away.

“I certainly don't hate
you
, Rebecca. If things had been different, I would have liked to be your very good friend. You have all the attributes of a fine mistress. It was unfortunate for you that Lord Foxbridge decided to take a Yankee bride. Although it will be a shame to destroy you, it is, I am afraid, ultimately necessary. Be a good girl, my lady, and perhaps I will let you view your husband's demise.”

“No! You can't kill Nicholas!” She was willing to prostitute herself in any manner this man wanted, to save her husband's life. “Please, sir, do not kill Nicholas. I beg for you to reconsider this plot you have embarked upon. I will do whatever you wish if you will spare him. I will become your mistress if you want. I will get you money if that is what you want. I will perjure myself to keep you from paying for this crime. Anything, as long as you don't hurt Nicholas.”

“Rebecca,” he said, sadistically, “you will do anything I want you to do anyway. You don't seem able to understand that you are mine now. I don't need to bargain with you to obtain what I want from you. What I want from Lord Foxbridge is his life. That you will get for me also.”

She leapt to her feet. “No! You won't kill Nicholas! I will kill myself first before I will let that happen.” Desperately, she cried, “I will leap into the chasm. Then you will have no hostage to lure Nicholas here.”

As she walked toward the edge of the break in the floor, the masked bandit grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. Fury burned in his shadowed eyes. “I have been courteous to you thus far, my lady. If necessary, I can have you bound hand and foot and left on the bed over there. If you make such foolish threats again, I will do just that.” His eyes narrowed as they dropped to ogle her ripped dress. “Of course, I would complete what we sampled on your cot before I tied you up and left you. Give me your word that you will not attempt suicide, or I will take you now.”

Rebecca had had no intention of taking her own life. It had been only a desperate threat. She intended to escape from her prison alive. Haughtily she stated, “I won't kill myself, sir.”

He laughed the laugh she despised. “I will see you tomorrow, my lady, both before and after the ball. I shall tell you all the details of the last social event the present Lord Foxbridge celebrates at Foxbridge Cloister.”

Numb with shock at his threatening words, she stared at him as he swaggered away from her to cross the bridge. Even the nagging thought of a clue to his identity failed to reach her conscious mind. All she could think of was Nicholas walking into whatever trap this man had set for him. She could only hope that Nicholas could prove a match for this man and his cohorts.

How well he had bested colonial troops to return to his own unit when he was hurt! He had used a much younger Rebecca as his ally to deliver the message which abetted his rescue. She remained his ally. Certainly he could deal with these criminals as readily. Her heart cried out across the unknown distance, urging him to be careful. If this enemy killed him, her own life would not be worth living.

She huddled on the mattress and hid her face as the tears began anew. The salt of her tears burned painfully against the wound on her face. Even her tears could not wash away the ache and the terror of knowing that the man hidden behind the domino intended to kill Nicholas outright and then debase her before he murdered her as well.

For the first time, she began to believe he might succeed.

Chapter Twenty-Two

When Nicholas entered Beckwith Grange later the same day, the butler stared in surprise, but regained his aplomb to ask the unexpected guest to wait for Miss Clarisse in the drawing room. Nicholas stood in the middle of the room where he had awaited Clarisse on so many other occasions and found it impossible that more than six years had passed since he last had been in this room. A lifetime ago, yet only a moment ago.

How easily he remembered the night when they had had the argument which led him to purchase a commission and go away to the American colonies just in time for the hostilities to break out. Clarisse had become so sure of herself that she had offered him an ultimatum. He must marry her or she was going to sever their romantic liaison.

He chuckled to himself as he thought of how terrified he had been of the thought of spending his whole life trying to keep track of Clarisse Beckwith as she sought to satisfy her promiscuity. From the time he foolishly had asked her to be his wife to that moment, he had had time to think of what his life would have been like with that woman as his mate. It was not one he had wanted.

He turned as he heard the red-haired woman enter the room. Her dress swished across the glistening wood with the soft whisper of satin. Holding out her hands, she gave him a sympathetic smile he knew was totally false. Clarisse would be delighted to see her despised neighbor disappear permanently.