Authors: Katherine Greyle
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Historical, #General, #Regency
And she was still irrevocably tied to him. She had been willing to give up everything for him.
Besides, her lascivious actions last night clearly demonstrated she was not quite ready to become a chaste heavenly creature.
So, what did she do now? Their marriage was apparently in her mind only. She doubted he would go through with the formalities of making it legal, especially when he couldn't even bear to look at her.
Carolly kicked another stone. As far as she was concerned, her only hope now lay in divine intervention. She prayed for it. She wished for it. She even begged for it, but she didn't truly believe she would receive it. If God were in the habit of explaining Himself, she would have had a number of conversations with Him over her last few lives.
Thus she experienced considerable shock when, moments later, a rescuer did appear. Especially since it was Garrett on his brown thoroughbred stallion.
"Caroline! Have you lost your wits?"
“That isn't funny," she commented dryly, continuing her steady pace toward the bells.
"You cannot walk to town alone. At least ride with me. I can carry you wherever you wish to go."
Carolly winced as she trod upon another sharp stone. His offer truly appealed, even though he'd been such a cad. Her feet were already sore, and she had a good distance to go. "I don't know, Garrett," she said slowly. Then she stopped and put her hands on her hips as she squinted past the sun at his eyes. "Are you going to try another seduction?”
She was gratified to see his face flush, turning even his ears a dusky red. "No," he said in a cold voice. "I shall not touch you other than is absolutely necessary."
Carolly nodded, greatly relieved. "Then I accept your most gracious offer."
His face broke into a boyish grin. She merely sighed, remembering her ride on Shadow, her arms wrapped around an entirely different man.
Still, Garrett was being most gracious, and she should treat him accordingly. Putting on her best smile, she grabbed hold of the saddle and lifted herself up. With Garrett's help, she soon sat in front of him, awkwardly perched half on his thighs, half on the saddle. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and she silently prayed the ride would go quickly.
Garrett started with a sedate walk as she anchored herself against him.
"Are you secure?" he asked, his mouth close enough to her nose that she could detect the brandy lacing his breath.
"As secure as possible."
"Good." Then, with a sudden laugh, he turned his horse off the main road and kicked it into a gallop. Carolly screamed, throwing her arms around him to keep from flying off her awkward perch.
"What are you doing?" she screamed. But he merely laughed louder, hauling her tighter against him as he pushed his horse to greater speeds.
Carolly groaned. She felt every pounding hoof as if it were beating itself into her rear. She thought briefly of releasing Garrett and just allowing herself to be bounced right off the saddle, but one look at the speeding landscape convinced her otherwise. They were riding too fast, too hard. She would be lucky to survive a fall at this speed.
Perhaps this was the divine intervention she had asked for, she thought with a weird sort of disconnection. She could easily end this incarnation now. She would fall backward, probably break her neck, and then she would start over. Another life, another chance to get it right. That was what she was being given.
But she couldn't do it. Last night, she had committed herself to James. She had promised to live out her life with him, for better or for worse. She couldn't abandon him or her life just because things were horrible right now.
She couldn't.
So she clutched Garrett, cursing him with every breath, while a partially planted field sped by.
"Slow down, Garrett!" she screamed. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"Not yet, my dear," he bellowed back, his voice exultant. "Not just yet."
"What?" His words made no sense.
They rode on, over meadows, through fields, skirting the woods but remaining close to their tall, dark presence. She could no longer hear the bells ringing over the heavy beat of his horse. "I was going to church," she yelled at him.
"Things change."
"But—"
"Silence!"
She looked back at him then. She twisted as far as she dared and stared at his face. He was different, and yet more true than ever before. His expression was fierce, ecstatic, and purposeful, all at once—a far cry from his usual vague charm. He looked down at her, and she felt a shiver travel up her spine.
"Garrett?”
He merely grinned at her, and suddenly she reconsidered falling off the horse. But he tightened his grip, and she was locked in place as firmly as if she were chained. Despite Garrett's dandy exterior, he possessed alarming strength.
Glancing about her at the shifting landscape, she felt the pieces fall into place. She assembled motive, opportunity, and means, and the concept left her more frightened than ever before. “Where are you taking me?" she demanded
He lifted his chin, jerking ahead at a dark, bare strip of land.
The mines.
"Someone will see you."
He shook his head. "You had James close it down completely for the week, remember? Because of the festival. Paid wages for the miners, too."
She swallowed, knowing he was right. And with everyone celebrating Waterloo, no one would think to look for one madwoman who had stormed out of the earl's house.
"Garrett, think about what you're doing. There has to be another way."
He shook his head, but his eyes gleamed. "I have been thinking." He grinned at her. "And this is the only way."
He reined in his horse just outside a black reinforced hole in the side of a hill: the mine entrance. Carolly was braced to run the moment his horse stopped, but she was too bruised, her muscles too slow. Garrett was on his feet, a pistol in his hand, as she fell to the ground.
"Get up," he ordered.
"I can't," she lied, pretending her legs were too stiff, too hurt. Maybe if he got close enough she could punch him or something. But he had known her too long to be deceived. He lifted his pistol and aimed.
"Get up now or I will shoot you here and drag your lifeless body into the mines. It matters not to me."
But it did matter to Carolly, and so she stood, her battered muscles protesting every inch of the way. "Why kill me, Garrett? I have done nothing to you."
He laughed mercilessly as he waved her into the black hole. "You are going to marry James."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that," she said glumly. Good Lord, she realized with shock; her last conversation with James had been an argument. If Garrett killed her now, James would think she had run off and abandoned him.
"Walk!"
Carolly bit her lip, choking back a panicked scream. She never had liked dark, ominous-looking holes. She liked them even less when a man stood behind her aiming a pistol at her back.
"What if I promised not to marry him?" she offered. Given the way they'd parted, she thought that extremely likely.
Garrett's only response was a merciless laugh.
Carolly started walking. It was amazing what she noticed as she took those first few steps into the mine. She didn't see the darkness, didn't truly feel the cold, damp air that seemed to surround her. Instead, she noticed a single leaf. Some weed, actually—straggly, pathetic, and not very green. But she knew she would remember it forever as she wondered if it would be the last living thing besides Garrett she would see in this lifetime.
This lifetime. The word echoed in her mind as she turned to Garrett. "You can't really kill me," she said, latching on to the thought. "I'm already dead. See, I'm sort of a pre—" He shoved her forward, and she stumbled onto her knees in the din.
"Keep walking," he growled.
So much for that idea, she thought glumly. She rose slowly to her feet, then took only two tiny steps forward, resorting to the oldest line in the book: "You won't get away with this, you know. You'll be locked up. Jailed. But if you let me go now, I swear I won't have you arrested."
Garrett ignored her, his attention centered on lighting the candle perched on the top of a nineteenth-century equivalent of a hardhat. She considered running, but her only choices were to try and get past him—not a very likely scenario—or to run blindly into the black hole of the mine where she would certainly get lost. She opted to remain where she was, at least for the moment. Maybe she could still reach Garrett.
"I bet," she said conversationally, "that if we really thought about it, I'm sure we could work something out. What exactly do you want?"
He held the hat and candle before him, its light making his eyes almost maniacal in the surrounding darkness. His eyes were quite a beautiful blue, she realized, and yet she saw no soul there that she could touch. No remorse, no regret. Only a hunger for something that did not belong to him.
"What do I want?" he asked softly. "I want my inheritance. I want all of this . . ." His expansive gesture encompassed not only the mine, but the surrounding lands and more.
"But killing me won't get you that. James . . ." She cut off her words, but she could not stop the thought, and he must have read the horror on her face.
"That’s right. It all belongs to James. But not for long." Then he put on his hat and gestured with his pistol, pushing her forward. She hesitated, but she knew she would only remain alive as long as it was convenient for him. The moment she began causing too much trouble, he would quickly kill her.
She began walking. "Garrett, I'm sure James would not leave you penniless."
"Penniless? No. He will drop me some pittance as long as he is alive."
She pulled at her lower lip, thinking aloud. "But you want more than that?"
"I deserve more," he said softly.
She didn't have time to inquire exactly why he thought he was owed a living. He pointed her down a ladder braced against what looked to her like a hole into total darkness. But she didn't have a choice, and so she went, her every footstep as slow and cautious as she dared. And while she moved, he knelt over the hole, a bright spot of light gleaming off of a dull grey pistol, speaking casually to her as if they were sharing tea.
"I was perfectly content, you know, working behind the scenes, occasionally stirring up the villagers. I had them on the verge of rebellion. One of them was going to kill him. I understand young Billy even tried one night when you were out walking in the woods."
Carolly remembered the gunshot on their midnight stroll through the near woods. She had never believed it was a poacher.
"If that was your assassin," she remarked dryly, "then he was remarkably inept." She had to keep him talking. As long as he spoke to her, he wouldn't kill her. It was a tactic meant to help her take control of the situation.
But it didn't work. Her voice echoed weirdly in the tunnel, coming back to her in the oddest of whispers and hisses. For a moment, she had the horrible impression she descended into a pit of monsters—slimy creatures breathing just below her. The feeling nearly overwhelmed her, and she stood frozen in place on the ladder. Then Garrett began speaking again, his casual voice restoring her sanity.
"Yes, Billy was most inept. He apparently got terrified the moment he realized he missed. Stupid boy. Then you had to come and throw that damned festival."
Carolly took a deep breath, trying to focus her thoughts. The only monster here was Garrett, she reminded herself. And she could see him.
"Listen, Garrett," she began, still paused on the ladder. "About London. I've reconsidered," she lied. "I'd love to go there with you. I'm sure I could learn a lot from you."
"Do not try to trick me, my girl," he said dryly. "You are not capable."
She cursed the arrogant toad under her breath, wishing she could wipe that condescending smile off his face. But there was little she could do while he stood above her aiming a pistol at her head.
"Now, hurry up," he ordered. She began her descent once again, stopping only when she reached the bottom. "Good," he continued. "Now step back. Farther. More."
Carolly did as he bade her. At his command, she stepped backward, a little farther and farther, sliding into the blackness until she couldn't see her own hand.
As she did, she started feeling around for a weapon. She had to work fast. Garrett was coming down the ladder with remarkable speed. This would be her only chance of escape.
Her hand closed over a rock. It was a little large for her hand, but it had sharp points and was heavy enough to, hopefully, knock her captor unconscious.
She tensed, feeling her way through the shadows to get to a better angle.
"Where are you?” bellowed Garrett when he was halfway down the ladder. "Come back into the light." He was getting anxious, twisting around on his perch. Very soon he would spot her, and he was too high for her to reach effectively.
Adrenaline surged through her as she realized she was running out of time. She tensed, gripping the rock in her hand.
"Come here this instant!" he bellowed.
She jumped for him, swinging the rock hard toward his head. She hit him, aiming for his temple. The impact jarred her up to her shoulder, and she felt blood spurt warm and slick over her hand. With luck, he would drop like a stone.
The light twisted crazily. Carolly scrambled to regain her footing while Garrett roared and reared back, swinging at her wildly. She had missed his temple, succeeding only in cutting his cheek.
Carolly ducked away, waiting for a moment to come at him again. She had no illusions about her strength in hand to hand combat. He could easily overpower her. She'd get one more blow if she was lucky.
He jumped to the ground just as she moved in for another strike. The light was wild flashes, almost like a strobe. She saw his bloodied face, rage warping his features into a hideous caricature of a face.
"You little bitch!" he screamed.
She struck, but this time he was ready for her. He ducked and the blow glanced off of his shoulder. She had only a split second to see his fist coming down.