Samantha James (17 page)

She was right, Gabriel conceded silently. And now that he had discovered it for himself, it was too late.

“Nonetheless,” he said tightly, “this might never have happened if you had been honest with me from the outset—”

All at once Cassie’s eyes were blazing. “To what purpose? Would that have stopped you? Would you have
cared
?” She lashed out at him bitterly. “I think not, for I’ve learned that you are a man who will have his way and mine matters little. I hate you, do you hear? I hate you!” At last her voice broke. “So just leave me be…leave me be!”

Gabriel’s dark features froze. “You are right, Yank.” When at last he spoke, his voice was as frigidly empty as his expression. “This should never have happened. Rest assured, it will not happen again.”

T
he day dawned dark and ominous. Cassie stirred, her subconscious rebelling against wakefulness yet jarred to such by the very events she longed to forget. Oh, but the hand of fate was cruel! Her eyes snapped open, only to confront the damnable reminder of all that transpired here in this very bed.

On the floor in front of the chair lay her nightgown, wadded in a heap.

Quickly she moved to retrieve it. Even as she dropped the gown over her head, her entire body grew hot. She remembered how Gabriel had swept it from her. She tried to close her mind to what came next, but it was no use. He had seen all of her—sweet Lord, he had
touched
all of her. Most of all she recalled the way his burning shaft stretched her virgin flesh wide…the way he had plunged himself deep—ever deeper—to the core of her being.

Within her, a tempest of emotion blustered and raged. She was obsessed with the events of the previous night and couldn’t shake the memory from her mind. She stared up at the pale blue satin bed hangings; her throat tightened oddly. In the cold
light of day, she regretted the words she had flung so rashly. Despite all, she did not hate Gabriel. She had begun to hate his wretched plan to hurt his father, but she did not hate
him
.

Inexperienced though she was, Cassie knew instinctively that it wouldn’t have been so—so awful…if only he had stayed with her…and held her, tight against his warmth. If only he had shown her a tender regard, comforted her with his strength…

Tears scalded her eyelids. Instead he had left her alone…alone as always.

There was a tap on the door. Gloria entered, bearing a tray of pastries and a silver pot of chocolate. Cassie brushed away the foolish, bitter tears and reached for her robe. Gloria glanced at her anxiously when she left her roll untouched. The brew she had come to savor did little to sway her from her melancholy mood. The hot bath she emerged from an hour later scarcely soothed the ache from her weary limbs…

But nothing eased the ache in her heart.

She was vastly relieved when she arrived downstairs and Giles informed her Gabriel had left already for his shipping offices and most likely would not return until late that afternoon. Though she did not know what the duke’s reaction might be, she arrived at his residence earlier than usual for her lesson. Though he had yet to admit such, Cassie sensed he was pleased with the progress she was making in her lessons. She had quickly mastered the alphabet and already had begun to string small words together in sentences.

Not so today. Cassie found herself scarcely able
to concentrate. Her mind was all atumble with images and feelings, doubts and fears. Would Gabriel return to her bed again? She had no faith in his promises—she had learned that painful truth last night. She shuddered, besieged by the memory of his hard, thrusting body, the rending pain. She had no wish to repeat such a vile act, but what choice did she have? Refusal would accomplish little, she acknowledged bitterly. All at once she remembered the tales Nell had so delighted in telling her—if Nell was to be believed, a man might take a woman more than once a night. To Cassie’s horrified mind, such a possibility was not to be endured.

Her frame of mind was as unsettled as the weather outside. One minute she felt like crying; the next she was snapping at the duke when he pointed out a minor error in her lettering. He closed the heavy volume before him and pushed back his chair. “I see little point in continuing our lessons today,” he said with a glower. “Your attentions are clearly elsewhere. Come back tomorrow. By then I would hope you will be more inclined to reap the benefits of our efforts.”

Feeling small and ashamed of her pettiness, Cassie made no reply. She gathered up her things and bid him farewell. In the carriage she rested her forehead against the velvet-lined wall, feeling utterly defeated. Lord, would this day never end? She longed for the moment she could crawl into bed, close her eyes, and blot out the rest of the world.

All at once the carriage swerved and jolted to a halt, sending her sprawling to the floor. Mystified,
she scrambled up and opened the window to see what was amiss.

“Thomas,” she called. “What is wrong? Why have we stopped?”

Thomas had just leaped down from his perch atop the coach. A man surged around the front of the coach, dressed in shabby black clothing, his face thin and pockmarked. Before either she or Thomas could say a word, the man brought up his arm. Cassie glimpsed the dull glint of metal—sweet heaven, a pistol! Even as the realization rampaged through her mind, the man brought up the butt of the weapon and dealt Thomas a stunning blow to the temple. The coachman crumpled to the cobbled street without a sound.

With a cry Cassie fumbled for the door latch. But she had no chance to wrench it shut, for the man was there, a malevolent smile on his lips.

“Well, what have we here?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Her tongue felt as if it were glued to the roof of her mouth. She’d seen his kind before, many a time in Charleston. The man was a footpad, a thief, perhaps even a murderer, for there were those who had no mercy, no scruples whatsoever.

“Please, sir.” Her voice betrayed her. “I have no money, no jewels.” Oh, but that wasn’t quite right. She was reminded of the plain gold band encircling her middle finger. Though her marriage was but a mockery, she hid her hand in her skirts, for the very idea of handing over her wedding ring did not even bear thinking about.

He grinned, displaying a blackened gap between his front teeth. “Oh, don’t you worry, missy, I’ll be
taking what I please.” His gaze roved down and back up. “Ah, but you’re a tasty little piece, ain’t you now? Well, we’re goin’ to have a bit of fun, you and I ’fore we get down to business.”

Cassie shrank back, even before he thrust the door closed, shutting her securely inside. The next moment she heard the lash of a whip. The horses bolted. The ensuing motion flung her back with such force she cracked her head.

She scarcely noticed the pain. Icy terror clogged her veins. Dear God, was the man mad? What did he hope to accomplish by carrying her off like this? He would soon discover she spoke the truth—that she had nothing of value in her possession save the clothes on her back and her wedding ring! What then?

The answer sent fear winging through her anew.

Faster and faster, they rumbled through the streets, the coach gathering speed with every second. Outside there were shouts and curses and screams. All too soon they broke free of the city and onto an open roadway. The coach careened around a curve and it was then Cassie made a split-second decision. She could not stay and meekly accept what awaited her in this robber’s hands. With luck, the robber would not notice until it was too late…

She flung open the door and leaped out.

She landed hard upon the shoulder of the road. A painful cry escaped her, for the impact jolted her entire body. Tiny stones jabbed her palms like a thousand daggers. Precious seconds passed while she labored for breath, struggling upright. She ran blindly into a small copse of trees.

But providence had forsaken her. Behind her there was a curse; she heard the carriage stop and tried to quicken her pace. But both her skirts and the damp, uneven ground hampered her efforts. Branches slapped across her cheeks. She stumbled and fell, bruising her knees and scraping her hands again. Thrashing footsteps sounded just behind her. She bit back a sob of despair and lurched upright.

The robber lunged at her. His fingers latched onto her sleeve; there was a rending tear. Yet still there was no escape, for he grabbed her by the other arm, wrenching her around with such force that she cried out in pain.

Filthy hands dug into her arms. “You bitch!” he spat. “Think you can get away, eh?”

He swung her around and began to drag her back toward the carriage. Though she pummeled and kicked and struggled, there was no escaping his vicious hold. Desperate and despairing, Cassie opened her mouth and gave a bloodcurdling scream, though she knew it was useless.

The robber jerked her around. He struck her hard across the cheek. Cassie fell to her knees. She could taste blood in her mouth.

Twisted lips drew back over his rotted teeth. Evil radiated from him, as foul and fetid as his scent. “I was going to save it for after I’d had some fun with ye,” he hissed. “But I might as well kill ye now and be done with it.” He raised a huge fist high. Cassie closed her eyes and waited for the blow.

All at once came the sound of running footsteps. “Hold there!” came the authoritative command.
“Release the girl, do you hear? Release her at once!”

Cassie sagged with relief. It was the most heavenly sound she’d ever heard.

It was early evening when Gabriel came through the front door of his townhouse. Inside the entrance hall he paused, looking for a long moment up the stairway. His features were carefully guarded, betraying no hint of the turmoil beneath his calm exterior.

He did not relish the prospect of facing his wife again…and little wonder.

Throughout the day, his conscience had given him no respite. There was simply no evading the immensity of his actions or his blind foolishness. He could not forget the way she had looked last night—the way he had left her! He kept seeing her, her bewildered shock in that split second when he’d thrust deep inside her. God, but she’d been so small, so tight around his swollen flesh. And over and over her stricken cry of pain tolled through his mind…

Self-contempt roiled in his belly. Despite everything, he should have known she was innocent. A better man would have, he acknowledged bitterly. For indeed, all the signs had been there…her sweet shyness whenever he’d kissed her, her tremulous response…her wide-eyed shock at seeing him naked.

And to think he had boasted what a great lover he was! Oh, but that was rich! He had neither relished nor revered her. He had all but ripped her clothes off. He had shown her no melting caresses,
no lingering tenderness. He had taken her coldly. Callously.

He had taken her like a whore. And she was his wife—regardless of how or why, she was his
wife…

Gabriel was not a man accustomed to losing control. He cursed himself fiercely for allowing his angry desire to sway his good judgment. It was just as he’d said—it should never have happened…

He swore beneath his breath. But none of this was turning out as he’d planned, and he hadn’t fully realized it until last night. He had taken Cassie to his bed once…
once
.

It could not happen again. It
would
not.

“Good evening, milord.”

Gabriel glanced up to find Giles before him. “Good evening, Giles. Is my wife in her bedchamber?”

“No, milord. She has not yet returned.”

The tight knot in his stomach began to ease. For a time, he’d thought he might have broken her spirit—thank God he had not.

“I see. Is she out with Lady Evelyn?”

“I do not know, sir. ’Tis not her ladyship’s habit to inform us of her whereabouts on her afternoon jaunt.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Her afternoon jaunt? Is this a daily occurrence then?”

A thin sheen of perspiration appeared on the man’s lip. “Yes, milord.”

“And you mean to tell me she’s been disappearing every afternoon and no one knows where she goes?”

Giles cleared his throat. “Well, sir, I would assume Thomas—the coachman—is aware of her whereabouts. But certainly I have made no inquiries, for ’twas my feeling that if her ladyship deemed it my concern, she would have informed me—”

“Yes, Giles, I am quite aware of what you are trying to say!” Gabriel was suddenly furious. The chit charmed all she encountered! Was he the only one immune to her wiles?

“Milord,” Giles coughed slightly, “if I may be so bold, I am beginning to be quite worried about her. She has always been quite punctual in her return—until today, that is.”

Gabriel’s mouth was a grim slash in his face. “What time did she leave?”

“She left shortly before one o’clock, milord, as she has these past few weeks.”

“And you’re certain she made no mention of her plans?”

“No, milord, only that she would return as usual before the dinner hour.” Giles’s tone was a trifle stiff.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. It would be just like a woman to spend her afternoons shopping, yet he suspected that was not the case. She’d not made mention of any purchases, nor had he received any bills…so where on earth had she been?

Perhaps the better question was…with
whom
had she been?

But there was no time for further speculation, for at that precise instant the bell at the front door rang. Giles moved to open it to find a burly police sergeant on the doorstep.

A small, slight figure stood next to him.

A muffled imprecation broke from Gabriel’s lips. “Good God—Cassie!”

Something was very, very wrong. Her gown was mud-spattered and torn. She clutched the tattered edges together where the seam had been ripped at the neckline. Her face was chalk white and tear-streaked. Her hair was falling down around her shoulders.

She took a single step forward. But she was so shaky, her knees almost buckled under her weight. Impulsively, he slid an arm reassuringly about her waist and brought her close.

Her body turned into his. One small hand clutched the lapels of his jacket. She sagged against his length and buried her face against the side of his neck. He both felt and heard the deep, racking breath she took.

He tightened his hold ever so slightly. “Are you all right?”

Her hair tickled his chin as she nodded.

The policeman cleared his throat. “I’m afraid there’s been an unfortunate incident, milord. Your wife was returning home when your coachman was accosted by a footpad. The man was struck down—and your wife abducted.”

“Abducted!” Gabriel was stunned. He glanced down at her. Where the devil had she been? he wondered furiously. And with
whom
had she been spending her afternoons? He decided to save his questions for later.

His gaze slid to the butler. “Giles, would you please escort milady to her chamber? And please see that a hot bath is prepared.”