Wilde, Jennifer (72 page)

"Goodbye,
dear," I whispered.

"You—you'll
be all right?"

"I'll
be all right," I promised.

James
took her hand, drawing her away, and the two of them moved toward the woods. At
the very edge, just before they disappeared into the shadows, Meg turned to
wave. I waved back, and then they were swallowed up in darkness. I turned and
walked slowly back toward the house, exhausted now, so exhausted I could hardly
move. Meg and her stalwart young lover were on their way to a happy ending, and
I thought about another couple I had sent away under similar circumstances.
Where were Cassie and Adam now? I felt certain they were happy, for they had
each other.

And
I had no one. I was quite good at helping others find happiness, it seemed, yet
I had been a dismal failure at finding it for myself. I felt weak and
defenseless, filled with a sadness that was almost unbearable. Moving through
moonlight and shadow, passing the marble fountain with its jets of water
dancing in the night, I wondered what I had done wrong. I had loved so fully,
so fervently, and it had led only to grief. Once I was free of Helmut, I would
try to build a new life... Once more I would try. That was all I could do.

I
entered the house and moved slowly down the hall and up the stairs, passing
through darkness without apprehension now. Meg was safe, and that was all that
mattered. Reaching my room, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it
for a moment. I was far too exhausted to undress just yet. Moving across the
room, I sat down in the large chair. After I rested for a little while perhaps
I would feel like preparing for bed. I was going to need all my strength in the
morning when Helmut discovered that Meg was gone, but I wouldn't think about
that now. I closed my eyes. I was tired, so very tired...

When
I opened my eyes, the room was filled with dazzling sunlight. I sat up,
startled, not knowing where I was for a moment, and then I realized that I must
have fallen asleep almost as soon as I sat down last night. I stood up. My
brocade gown was rumpled, my hair falling loose. I glanced at the clock. It was
after nine. A sudden movement behind me made me turn.

The
door was open. Helmut stood just inside the room, his face chalk white, his
eyes ablaze.

"She's
gone," he said.

"Her
bed hasn't been slept in."

He
moved further into the room and closed the door.

"Where
is she?"

I
didn't answer. He moved slowly toward me, exuding a controlled menace that was
far more terrifying than explosive rage. I had never seen him so tight, so
steely. Every muscle in his body was taut. I stepped back, knocking against the
chair.

"Where
is she?" he repeated.

"She's
with James Norman."

"You
helped her."

I
nodded, trying to fight back the panic. He stopped a few feet away, breathing
heavily now, his hands balled into tight fists. His eyes were flashing with
blue fire. My heart began to beat rapidly.

"Helmut,
she told me everything. Meg told me what you were doing to her. Yes, I helped
her. I planned everything myself. I even gave her the jewels so she and James
could sell them."

"You're
going to pay for this," he said.

"I
think not," I replied. My voice was steady now. "I think you're the
one who's going to pay. There are laws against what you did, and all I need do
is go to the authorities."

He
lifted one brow. The rage still burned in his eyes, but there was a perverse
amusement as well, and something I could only identify as anticipation.

"My
dear Marietta, do you really think I'd give you the opportunity?"

"Keep
away from me, Helmut."

He
smiled, sensing my terror, thriving on it.

"What
you did to that poor girl is—unspeakable." I said, my voice rising in
fear." If I reported it you would be ruined, imprisoned. I—I want my
freedom, Helmut. Our marriage must be annulled, and you will settle a sum of
money on me—a very large sum. I'll leave Natchez—"

"So
brave," he said. "So defiant. It's going to be a pleasure to crush
you."

He
swung his arm back, then brought it forward in one quick movement. I saw the
tight fist coming toward my jaw, and then there was a crushing impact and an
explosion of shattering pain. I fell, crashing to the floor. I went spinning
through a void of black and bright orange fires, screaming silently as the pain
burned through my whole body, and then, crumpled on the floor, I opened my
eyes, unable to focus properly. I saw Helmut through a filmy blur, saw him
looming there with fists at his side, saw those blazing, murderous blue eyes.

"You're
going to pay for this," he repeated. "Yes, indeed. You're going to
pay. Before I'm through with you, my dear, you're going to wish you'd never
been born!"

I
was
dimly aware of the pain and, as I struggled up through layers of darkness, it
grew worse. My jaw seemed to be on fire, and there was a terrible ache in my
side where Helmut had kicked me. I moaned, and the darkness finally parted.
Opening my eyes, I found myself on top of the bed, still wearing the yellow
brocade gown. A lamp was burning. It was dark outside. Had one whole day
already gone by?

I
felt disembodied, groggy, and nothing seemed real but the pain. I remembered
Helmut seizing my hair and pulling me to my feet, and then he had slapped my
face repeatedly, his eyes gleaming with pleasure, a smile twisting on his lips.
When he finally let go of me, I crumpled to the floor again, and he kicked me
viciously. He must have carried me to the bed afterwards, for I couldn't
possibly have made it on my own. What time was it? I tried to see the clock,
but it was impossible to focus. I tried to sit up. That was impossible, too. I
fell back against the pillows, and darkness claimed me once more.

"You
must drink," she said nervously, holding the glass to my lips.

"No,"
I murmured. "No, don't—please—"

Lelia
stood beside the bed, her eyes wide with terror. She seemed to materialize out
of fog. I took the glass and drank thirstily, vaguely aware that the room was
filled with sunlight, aware that the pain in my jaw was not nearly so bad now,
the pain in my side almost gone. I was ravenously hungry.

"Can—can
you sit up?" she asked.

I
nodded, but it took great effort to raise myself. Every bone in my body felt
bruised. Lelia helped me struggle into a sitting position, and I leaned back
against the headboard as she placed the tray over my knees. She had brought a
bowl of hot soup, slices of buttered bread, some cheese. My hands trembled as I
ate, and I sank back into unconsciousness almost as soon as she took the tray
away.

When
I awoke it was to find the lamp burning once again, darkness pressing against
the windows. I was hungry again, terribly hungry. I managed to get off the bed.
My legs trembled as I moved across the room to the elegant blue and white
screen. Behind it stood a table holding a ewer, a chamber pot, a basin of
water. After I had performed my ablutions I was so weak I could hardly make it
to the door leading into the hall. The door was locked. The door leading into
the sitting room was locked, too.

I
was a prisoner.

Waves
of dizziness swept over me. My head seemed to spin. Afraid I was going to
faint, I moved quickly back to the bed, collapsing immediately, trying not to
panic. He was deranged. Right and wrong simply failed to exist for him. What a
fool I had been to believe I could hold him off by threatening to go to the
authorities. I should have fled with James and Meg. It was too late now. He was
holding me prisoner, and I knew the worst was yet to come. He had some
diabolical revenge in mind, or else he would have killed me already. I must
escape, I thought. I must... And then the swirling black clouds enveloped me
and I went spinning into oblivion.

A
bird was warbling throatily, and I awoke with a start. It was daylight again.
My head was clear. Although I still felt bruised and sore, most of the pain was
gone. I realized that two days must have passed. Meg and James would be in New
Orleans now, already married, beginning their life together. I had saved Meg,
and now I must save myself.

I
got off the bed and moved behind the screen once more, and a few minutes later
I sat down in front of the mirror. I wanted to hurl myself against the door and
bang on it with my fists and scream. Instead, I began to brush my hair, slowly,
forcing back the hysteria that could only make things worse.

There
was a bruise on my jaw, but it had already begun to fade. Thank God he hadn't
broken it. My side still ached, not painfully. The beating had been brutal, but
he had restrained himself. He could have killed me, but he hadn't. He had
something else in mind. I was sure of that. I finished brushing my hair, and
then I made up my face, applying coral to my lips, soft-blue-gray shadow to my
eyes, covering the bruise with powder. It was a foolish thing to do, but it
helped.

I
removed the brocade gown and hung it up in the wardrobe. I was still in my
petticoat when a key turned in the lock and Helmut stepped into the room with a
small tray.

"Good
morning," he said. "I've brought you some coffee and a sweet
roll."

"Thoughtful
of you," I replied.

"Oh,
I've no intentions of letting you starve, my dear."

"Where
is Lelia?"

"Lelia
has gone to the plantation, as have all the other servants except my coachman.
I won't be needing any of them for a while, and I don't want them around."

"You
don't want witnesses," I said.

He
ignored my comment, setting the tray on the bedside table. "You look
remarkably fit this morning. Feeling better?"

"You're
not going to get away with this, Helmut."

"You
mustn't let your imagination run away with you, my dear. Here I am, kind and
attentive, inquiring about your health. I've even brought you your breakfast.
What more could a wife ask?"

"What
do you plan to do?"

He
lifted a brow. "Do? I have a number of things in mind, but I haven't
decided yet. I want to arrange something very special for you."

I
took a dressing robe from the wardrobe and slipped it on, tying the sash
securely at the waist. Helmut watched me with gleaming blue eyes, the corners
of his mouth turned up. I forced myself to remain calm. I knew he wanted me to
cringe and plead, and that was a satisfaction I had no intention of providing
him.

"You
must eat your breakfast," he said. "You need to build up your
strength. I've a feeling you're going to need it."

"Do
you plan to beat me again?"

"That
was really rather thoughtless of me. I'm afraid I lost control. Oh, by the way,
I brought you a news sheet that arrived yesterday from New Orleans. Rather
uninteresting as a whole, but there was an advertisement I thought you might
like to see."

"Oh?"

"A
request for any information concerning Miss Marietta Danver, late of Rawlins
Place. The man who placed it offered a substantial reward to anyone who could
help him locate said Miss Danver."

I
was startled, only half believing him.

"It
seems you moved in very exalted circles at one time," he continued,
watching me closely. "The man who placed the advertisement is apparently
an English aristocrat. Lord something-or-other, he signed himself. Oh, yes, now
I remember. Lord Derek Hawke."

I
could feel the color leaving my face. My body seemed to go limp. I caught hold
of the wardrobe.

"Someone
you know?" Helmut inquired.

I
didn't reply. I couldn't. Helmut shook his head in mock sadness.

"I'm
afraid the chap is out of luck," he told me. "Even if by some wild
chance he manages to track you down, it's highly unlikely you'll be around to
greet him with open arms."

He
smiled, blue eyes alight with pleasure, and then he sauntered out of the room,
locking the door behind him. I stepped over to the bedside table and picked up
the news sheet he had left folded on the tray. I sat down on the bed, trembling
inside, my hands shaking as I turned the pages searching for the advertisement.
There it was, just as he had said. Derek was in New Orleans. He was looking for
me. That could only mean... The paper rattled as I gripped it tightly. I put it
down, awash with emotions I could no longer control. I cried.

I
cried for a long time, giving in to all of the feelings that overwhelmed
me—panic and fear, wild elation that Derek had come, crushing despair that he
had come too late, remorse and recrimination that I had ever married Helmut in
the first place. Finally, when all the tumult was spent, when the last tear had
slipped down my cheek, I felt better. I was glad that I had broken down, for
now that I had given some release to my emotions I could concentrate on escape.
I took several deep breaths and looked around.

There
was no way I could get out of the room. The windows were unlocked, but it was a
sheer drop to the ground far below. In my weakened state, I would probably
break my neck if I tried to tie bedsheets together and climb down. Both doors
were securely locked, impossible to open. I could not overcome Helmut
physically, but if I used my head, if I remained calm, I was bound to find an
opportunity to escape. Above all, I must put on a bold front. I must not let
Helmut suspect my fear.