Sybill (55 page)

“Come along, Rebecca,” he said, quietly. “It's been a long day for you. Tomorrow we have an equally long journey. I think you should go to bed now.”

Without a mirror, she knew her face was colorless. Although she tried, she could not force any words past the blockage in her throat. Compliantly, she walked out of the dining room and up the stairs. The time she had dreaded all day had come. It would be best if she let him do as he wanted and had it over. Her best hope would be to give him the heir he obviously wanted as quickly as possible. Then, perhaps, he would do as other gentlemen did and take himself a mistress. That was her best and only hope.

As they reached the door of their room, she said quietly to break the oppressive silence between them, “That was a delicious meal. Thank you.”

Sarcastically, he replied, “How would you know if it was tasty? You didn't take more than three bites during the whole meal.”

She did not answer because she knew anything she might say would enrage him more. When he opened the door, she fought to keep her hands from trembling. He pushed the door open, and she stepped past him.

As he closed the portal, his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back to him. When he kissed her, she stood without moving. In a husky whisper, he asked, “Can't you pretend to feel something when I hold you, Rebecca? In the carriage, when you awoke in my arms, I could feel the fire deep within you. Find a bit more of it to share with me now, sweetheart.”

“No!” she gasped. “I cannot pretend anything. This afternoon was a mistake. I was dreaming you were—” She paused as she saw the rage increase on his scowling face. “All I can show you is how much I hate you, Nicholas Wythe.”

“Hate?” With a harsh shove, he pushed her back against the bed. He laughed as she tried to scramble away from its lushness. Easily, he kept her from escaping him by putting his arms out on either side of her. Inexorably, he pressed her back onto the coverlet with the strength of his body.

All fright she had known was eclipsed by what she experienced as he forced her clawing hands to her sides. As his lips explored her throat where her pulse beat rapidly, she wished herself away from this man. If she had known five years before that he would return to rape her, she would have let him die.

He raised his head to look into her tear-filled eyes. He could read her thoughts as clearly as if she had written them across her forehead. It was time that Rebecca knew the truth. “Sweetheart, you shouldn't hate me. I saved you from a marriage which would have made you miserable. You should thank me for what I did.”

“Thank you?” She stood shakily. His nearness unnerved her far more than she had thought. “You think you know everything, don't you? The all-wise lord of the manor! This time you are very, very wrong! Keith would have made me very happy. I love him, and he loves me.”

Nicholas chuckled again as he rose. It would serve her right to learn the truth. “And marrying him would have made Hart very happy, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face. She wondered what trickery he was up to. “Of course, it would have made Hart happy for me to marry Keith. They are friends. My brother would not have forced me to wed Keith or anyone else.”

“It wasn't just coincidence I was at the church today, dear wife. I have been spending the last few days doing some checking into what had been happening to you since we last met. Did you know that your brother owed your one-time fiance a great deal of money?”

Confusion replaced the anger on her face. She did not like the track of this conversation. Already she could tell where he intended it to lead. “Hart owed money to Keith? What does that have to do with me? Their business dealings don't include me.”

“That is where you are very wrong, Rebecca.” His fingers came up to stroke her face with the gentleness of a lover. She was so astounded by what he was implying that she did not try to pull away from him. “Sweetheart, you are the one thing of value that your brother possessed that Bennett wanted. He did not want your cabin or your fine farm, for he did not want to be involved in the day-to-day work to maintain them. Instead he wanted the prettiest lass he had ever seen. You were the way Hart planned to clear the slate of his debts. I don't know if you were lucky or not that Bennett decided that he wanted you for his wife and not simply as his mistress.”

Wrenching herself away from the words he was twisting around her, she moved to the dressing table. In a whisper, she said, “I don't believe you, Nicholas. Keith loves me. You heard what he said. He's coming to get me.”

“No, he won't come. Hold onto your foolish dreams if they give you comfort, but don't expect Bennett to chase you across the ocean to wrest you back from me. He doesn't want you that much. There will be other women for him. I wish I could convince you that I'm telling you the truth. I would never lie to you, Rebecca. You saved my life. All I want to do is share that life with you.”

As he had been speaking, he came to stand behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders, but when he felt her flinch, he drew them away. He knew there was no way he could tear down the wall she was erecting between them without breaking her will. Gently he kissed the top of her head again as he had in the carriage. “Good night, my dear. Sleep well.”

As she had before, she turned to watch him go to the door. This time, she was not foolish enough to give him an opportunity to stay. Although she was curious as to why he was leaving and where he was going, all she said was, “Should I be ready by a certain time in the morning?”

“By eight will be early enough, Rebecca.” He paused as he put his hand on the latch. “Don't be foolish as to try to run away from me. Don't force me to do something both of us will regret.”

“Good night.” There was no emotion in her voice. She did not look at him as she turned to pick up her nightgown on the foot of the bed. Only when she heard the door close did she react. A half-sob escaped the depths of her aching heart.

Rebecca stared at the nightclothes in her hands. Her fingers touched the delicate lace at the deep neckline and full cuffs as her eyes filled with tears. She should be wrapped in her darling's arms as they shared the love they could give each other. With a sigh she told herself, with more than a touch of irony, that she was lucky to be sleeping alone.

For a moment, Nicholas' face filled her mind. He had changed very much in five years also. The stress of his wartime experiences had furrowed the face of the young man he had been when she had exchanged marital vows with him. At the time, his head had been so swathed in makeshift bandages that she had been unable to see the hair which matched his black eyes. Then she had not realized how incredibly handsome and diabolical he could appear.

She did not understand why he was leaving her alone, although she was very thankful he was not with her. His desire for her was clear in the kisses which persisted despite her reluctance. It was obvious also in the way he touched her whenever he could. His jealousy when she talked to another man was an additional symptom of that frustrated yearning. If she had missed all other clues, she would have seen it in his eyes. Nicholas wanted very badly to make her his wife in more than name, but, for some reason, he was making no effort to force her to sleep with him.

There was much she did not begin to understand about the man who was her husband. One minute he was as cold as a midwinter sunrise, the next he was asking her to respond to his kiss as if her feelings were of the utmost importance to him. He was a puzzle she did not want to solve. All she wanted was for her sweetheart to rescue her from this madness.

She could not believe the account Nicholas had given her of why Hart had been so pleased to see Keith courting her. It was simply silly. Admittedly money had been scarce for the past few years, but neighbors helped one another. She could not conceive of the idea that her brother would sell her to settle his debts. With a frown, she undressed behind the screen. No, she did not believe a word of it. Nicholas was only defaming the two men she loved when they could not defend themselves.

Rebecca pushed the heavy bench against the door. She was a prisoner in this room, but she was determined that Nicholas would be given no chance to change his mind. Only with the bench in front of the door would she be able to sleep tonight.

When her head rested on the pillow, she hid her face in its freshly cleaned pillowcase. For all the long, dark hours of the night, she remained like that as she fought the demons of despair that longed to overwhelm and destroy her. She would not give in to them. She would fight Nicholas Wythe's advances and await Keith's arrival at Foxbridge Cloister, wherever that was.

Chapter Three

The carriage stopped by the pier shadowed by the great ship. The long overland journey was over, though they had a far more lengthy and tedious sojourn ahead of them. Last night the weary travelers had slept in another simple roadside inn. Again Rebecca had been left alone in her room. Although Nicholas had demanded a kiss before he had retired to sleep elsewhere, he had not pressed her in any other way.

She continued to be confused by his bizarre actions. If he wanted to be her lover, she did not know why he waited. Sometimes she thought he despised her as much as she hated him, but if that had been the case, there was no sense in bringing her with him to England. He could have returned by himself with no one being the wiser. She would have married Keith, and Nicholas could have wed a woman who would not have spurned him.

“Here we are, Rebecca,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

Looking out the window, she was awed by the sight of one of the large sailing ships that were most at home on the sea. The sails were still furled, so the masts were black fingers pointing skyward. Every bit of the rigging was silhouetted sharply against the blue sky. On the deck, she could see men straining with other ropes and doing jobs that were incomprehensible to her. She knew they had arrived with little time to spare before the raising of the anchor.

Nicholas made arrangements for the loading of their bags before he turned to assist Rebecca from the carriage. “There she is, my dear. The magic vehicle that will take you to Foxbridge Cloister.
Neptune's Prize
is her name. She will take us home.”

“To your home,” she said tartly. She took his fingers as she stepped from the carriage.

“To our home, my sweet,” he replied. It seemed his wife was determined to become a shrew. Every word he said to her was repudiated or questioned. “Let's go aboard. Her master, Captain Jennings, is an old friend from prewar days. He did some shipping for the Wythe family. Now he will be our host.”

She stopped, and he turned to face her. “Please, Nicholas, reconsider before it is too late. Let me stay here in America. Whatever you want in exchange, I will try to get it for you. We do not make much money, but I doubt if someone with a title like Lord Foxbridge has a need for money. Don't take me with you. Please!”

His fingers slipped along her pale cheek to the nape of her neck. Entwining them in the thick, brown hair swept up into her conservative hair style, he pulled her head back so he could see her face. The expression of fear was blatant on her features, although she no longer cringed away from him each time he touched her.

In a tone as black as his snapping eyes, he stated in a tight whisper, “You do not seem to understand that I want you. You are my wife, and I have no desire to trade you for anything or anyone else. I don't want to hear any more of this begging to be left behind. If I stepped aboard that ship and left you here, what would you do? You could not get three paces along these docks before you would find that you had gained a new friend who would not be as willing as I to let you have a bed to yourself.” Taking her hand and placing it on his arm, he said, “Come along, Rebecca.”

Mutely, she walked beside him as they stepped down the stairs leading to the pier. Her hand on his arm trembled with her suppressed emotions. She swayed as she walked along the wooden platform, but it had nothing to do with her sorrow. She had felt a sense of nausea from the moment she had woken this morning. At first, she had thought it was simply a reaction to the horrible disruption of her life, but it seemed to be more than that.

Nicholas had not noticed her increasing ill feeling because he had grown accustomed to her silence as they rode mile after mile. After a few attempts to have her join in what amounted to a monologue, he had given up and spent the time reading a book he took from his bags on one of their frequent stops to water or change the horses.

When they climbed the steep gangplank, she lifted her skirts so she would not step on the front of her hem. Her companion took her hand to aid her up the wide board. At the top a man was waiting for them with a smile on his mahogany face. He was introduced to Rebecca as Captain Drew Jennings. Whether the man was in his thirties or fifties was impossible to tell. His hair was bleached by the sun to the white of age and his face lined with the wrinkles of skin which has been exposed to the brilliant rays of light reflected off the sea. He wore a casual assortment of loose shirts and knee breeches, but no stockings or shoes. When her shoes slipped on the wet deck, she understood why.

“Nicholas, I was beginning to wonder if you had decided to stay in America a bit longer,” joked the man in a deep voice that would resonate over the howling wind of a tempest.

“No, no, I have seen all of this blasted wilderness that I ever wish to see. I'll be glad to see the walls of Foxbridge Cloister and the quiet gardens.”

She was grateful that she was looking elsewhere when Nicholas spoke the words that told her that she was leaving her home forever. He had no plans to bring her back, even for a visit. She swallowed roughly as she thought of never speaking with Hart and Aunt Dena again. The idea of not being with Keith was too impossible to imagine. How she wished she could awaken from this nightmare!