Blood Lust (5 page)

“My lord?” she said.

He stepped into the room and closed the door. When he spoke, his voice sounded deep. “My apologies. I had begun to believe you had somehow gotten away. I can see I was mistaken.”

She wet her lips. “Yes, you were. Thank you sir for the bath. It was much appreciated.”

“There’s a brush and comb upstairs, if you need them.”

“Yes, thank you.” The words sounded breathless, which was exactly the way she suddenly felt. He was looking at her strangely, making odd little flutters rise in her chest. “I was just on my way up to get them.”

He remained where he was. Taking a moment to steady herself, Katherine walked toward him, passing him on her way to the stairs, catching the smell of leather and sweat. Her hands were trembling. Why was her heart beating so hard?

By the time she returned downstairs, her hair pulled back, he was kneeling near the flames, cutting up freshly washed vegetables and dropping them into a heavy iron pot, adding bits of mutton to what appeared to be a stew.

She watched his dark head bent to the task, his hair tied back as it usually was, and remembered how wild and untamed he looked the night of the storm. He seemed slightly civilized now, yet the undercurrent was there, the danger.

It forced her to remember her peril, the jeopardy she was in every moment she stayed there, the ruin she and her brother faced should she fail to marry the duke.

The weather was clear, blue skies, a cool gentle breeze. In the long hours just before dawn, she had come up with another plan of escape. All she needed was a means to see it through.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard from the duke?”

Turning to face her, he whispered, “The duke? Don’t you mean your future husband?”

“I mean his grace, the duke of Sussex.”

“No.” He went back to seasoning the stew, but beneath his white shirt, his muscles in his back appeared to be drawn more tightly than they were before.

“I suppose there hasn’t been enough time. You did send the ransom note, didn’t you?”

He looked at her and his bottom lip curved slightly. “Why would I not? That is the reason I brought you here, is it not?”

“I suppose so. That is what you have said.” But he only glanced away. Why was it every time she mentioned the ransom, she got the feeling it had nothing to do with the reason she was there.

Morning passed into afternoon. The outlaw spent much of the day outside, while she remained cooped up indoors. At least he had provided her with a large selection of books. Though he played the role of a gentleman, might even be a peer, she was still surprised that he could read.

The next several hours she spent leafing through the volumes, but the pages failed to hold her interest. She had more important things to do. When he finally came back inside the house, she was pacing, determined to get on with her plan.

“How long until dinner?”

He glanced at her. “Take it easy. I’m not one of your servants. I’d suggest you ask nicely or you’ll be doing the cooking yourself.”

She stood erect. “I’ve never cooked a meal in my life.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Are you really a lord?” That change of topic caught him off guard. “I have a feeling you are used to the title.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps I was once. Now it has an odd sort of ring to it.”

“But you are a member of the peerage?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Why? Does it matter? But then of course it would, to a woman who is suppose to marry a duke.”

The phrasing struck her oddly. “What do you mean, suppose to marry? I am going to marry him. Neither you nor anyone else is going to stop me.”

He dropped the spoon into the pot. “That determined are you?” His jaw went tight. “I didn’t realize you fancied the man quite that much.” He looked at her carefully. “I suppose there are times he can be charming. And I guess he’s handsome enough. Are you telling me this is a love match?”

Katherine moistened her lips. In love? Benjamin Spencer was hardly a man to love. He was too much in love with himself. She stared into the flames in the fire pit. “No, I am not in love with Benjamin. I wish I were. The marriage was arranged by my brother Thomas.” More or less. “It suits both of us and it suits our families.”

Some of the tension eased from within his body. She wondered why he cared.

“The stew is ready.” He filled a bowl and handed over, then filled one for himself. They said nothing during the meal and as soon as they finished, he gathered up the bowls and carried them outside to wash them.

The time has come. Her heart skipped a beat, then started thumping. Scrambling from her seat, Katherine reached toward the fire, grabbed the heavy iron poker and raced upstairs. She couldn’t afford to wait any longer. She should have acted first thing this morning, but something had held her back.

She glanced toward the boarded up window, noted the bright rays streaming through the cracks. The sun remained high. There would be plenty of light still before nightfall. This time she was taking his horse, and if all went as planned he wouldn’t be in any shape to follow her.

Her hand felt sweaty around the long iron poker she carried. She wiped her palm against her brown wool skirt and pressed an ear to the door, listening for his return.

It wasn’t long before she heard him moving about. She had already removed everything from the dresser. Now, holding the poker in one hand, she knocked a glass vase to the floor, unleashing what she hoped would pass for a shriek of pain as the glass crashed into a thousand shards.

“Duchess?”

She made a weak little sobbing noise that was suppose to sound like crying, then quickly climbed up on the chair she had dragged behind the door. Her stomach felt tied in knots, her mouth was dry, but her resolve remained strong.

“Duchess, are you all right?” His heavy boots took the stairs two at a time.

Katherine sucked in her breath, raised the poker with shaking hands, and waited until he burst through the door. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she tightened her hold and the poker swung down toward his head.

He caught the movement in his eye. At the last possible moment he twisted. The poker caught the side of his head, glanced of his shoulder. Still the blow did its job and he went down crashing to the floor.

“Oh, my.” Scrambling down off the chair, her legs weak, Katherine tossed the heavy length of iron away, knelt down and touched his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, trying to ignore his pitiful groan of pain. “I had to do it. I have to get away.” His skin felt warm. She hadn’t killed him. Hopefully he wasn’t hurt too badly.

Trembling all over, she raced down the stairs, stopping only long enough to grab his heavy cloak and the bread and cheese she had managed to stash. Then she was out the door and running toward the barn. His horse was there, but thankfully the stable boy was gone. She had prayed he wouldn’t try to stop her.

“Come on,” she whispered to the horse, leading the animal from the stall by his halter, fastening the lead rope around his head to use for reins. The saddle pad was all she had time for. Pulling the horse through the door of the barn, she climbed up on the fence and dropped down on the animal’s back, adjusting her skirt around her, ignoring the stockinged legs she exposed below the hem of her skirt.

“That’s a boy, just take it easy.” He was a spirited horse, but she was a passable rider. Better than most women, when she was properly mounted. Surely she could manage the big gelding well enough riding astride to make it to some sort of town.

At least that’s what she told herself as she dug her heels into the animal’s sides and leaned forward, but at the first leap the tall horse made, big hands seized her waist and jerked her roughly off the animal’s back. Katherine screamed as her captor swung her to the ground in front of him, his face a dark mask of rage. Her breath caught. She whirled to flee, but his fingers caught her arms, dug into the tops, and halted any possible movement. A trickle of blood ran from his hairline, and as much as she wanted to escape, her insides clenched to see how badly she had hurt him.

“Going somewhere, my lady?”

Fear pumped through her at the sight of him. Now for sure he would kill her. She bit down on her trembling lips. “I’m sorry, I had to get away.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

Her fear increased, a chilling tingle that slid down her spine and settled like cold steel in her belly. She stared into his features.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

His features turned even more harsh. “Your nemesis, my lady. A man who has underestimated your will for the very last time.” A shrill whistle brought the return of his horse. With a death grip on her arm, he led the animal back to its stall, dragging her along in his wake. He jerked off the pad and unfastened her makeshift reins, then dragged her back toward the house, his rough fingers digging into her flesh.

She tried not to cry, but his painful hold combined with her failure had her cheeks wet with tears by the time they reached the door.

The outlaw saw the, cursed and surprisingly his hold on her gentled. “Get inside,” he said gruffly.

She did as he told her, taking several wary steps out of his reach.

His fury exploded. “Damn! Can’t you understand? I’ll let you know when it’s time and not before then. Make it easy on yourself and me and resign yourself to the fact that you’re not leaving until I say!”

She sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Bloody hell!” He stalked back outside, slamming the door so hard it rang into the smoke-darkened rafters. Through the window she saw him heading for the water trough.

He ducked his head beneath the surface, then shook his hair like a dog emerging from a stream. Streaks of pink ran along his cheek and guilt pulsed through her.

She had never hurt another person. She hated herself for it, yet she couldn’t deny she’d had good cause. She retreated several paces as he strode back in, but made no move to approach her. Instead he sank down in the sofa and closed his eyes, resting his head against the back.

Katherine eyed him warily. A bruise was beginning to form on the side of his face. She moved a little closer.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she said softly.

His eyes opened. She felt them on her face as if he touched her. “You’re a woman. I should have known better than to trust you.”

“If you would tell the truth,” she sighed, “tell me what this about, perhaps I could help you. I don’t believe you are really a highway man. I’m not even sure you’re after a ransom. Please, if you would just. . .”

“Lady, if you would just keep quiet, maybe my head would stop throbbing.”

She bit down on her lip. The man was in pain and she was the cause. Making her way to the bucket of water by the fire, she dampened a cloth, then returned to the sofa, carefully placing it across his injured head.

Those piercing eyes slid open. There was something dark and turbulent swirling in their depths, something of hurt and betrayal. Something that made her wish she could change what she had done.

“I had to do it,” she whispered. “I wish you could understand.”

His eyes drifted closed again. “Perhaps I do,” he said without looking at her. “Perhaps I even admire you for it. I still can’t let you leave.”

Katherine said nothing more. She had never met a man like this one. She couldn’t begin to understand him, and yet she was drawn to him. Fascinated by the danger that seemed to surround him. Touched by the gentleness she had glimpsed in him more than once.

She would continue to fight him. She had no other choice. But she knew no matter what happened, she would never hurt him again.

Chapter Four

Sussex Manor sparkled like a diamond in the darkness of the cool April evening. Every window was lit by glowing beeswax candles, strains of harpsichord music spilled into the quiet of the night.

Built in the early part of the previous century, the house was fashioned in Portland stone. With its lovely balustrades and pedimented windows, it was a showplace.

Beneath the painted ceilings of the drawing room, Benjamin Spencer paced in front of the gold brocade sofa.

“Where the devil is she?” Firelight played on the room gently. “By God, we’ve only got three days before the wedding. Guests are beginning to arrive. So far they haven’t realized the bride is missing, and even her brother forgets about half the time. But sooner or later they are bound to figure out that something is wrong.”

“We should have found her by now,” Frederick Bonham, Benjamin’s less than honorable friend said. “We’ve got a dozen lads out tramping the roads between here and where she was taken. We’re bound to run across them sooner or later.”

“Well, it had bloody be sooner than later!”

Frederick nodded his head. He had worked for Benjamin for more than five years. “Coachy said the bloke took the lass for ransom, but nary the sign of a note has appeared.”

“She’s a bit of baggage. Perhaps the man’s cods overruled his senses.”

Frederick’s face turned red. “He touches her and he’s a dead man. I’ll track down the bastard myself and slit his throat. You’ve got my word on that Benjamin.”