Desire Me Always (10 page)

Nick lifted his fist and pounded on the old wooden door.

“Is there anyone home?” he asked again.

There was no response. He tried the lever to open it; surprisingly—or maybe not, considering the secluded location—it was open.

“I'm looking for someone who lives here,” he said as he swung the door wide open. It creaked as it stalled and came to a stop.

The place was sparse—a table sat beside the hearth and was likely used for all meal making. A rocking chair and a leather chair resided in one corner of the room. A small table stood between them with a chess set atop it, pieces laid out midgame. There were two cots, telling Nick everything he needed to know about who resided here.

The vicar had to be nearby, his lackey following close behind. The coals in the hearth were still warm; hence, the light billowing of smoke coming out the chimney on his arrival. The wood was burned down to black, and dying before its cold end. Where could they have gone so late in the day? Surely they were abed by dark and up with the chickens he'd spotted in a rustic coop outside.

There was reading material and a Bible on the floor near one bed. A window ledge held a candle, the wax floating around it where it had melted down with use.

There wasn't much sense in sticking around, so he swung the door shut behind him and got back on his horse. A fruitless effort was something he hadn't thought would be his outcome today. Yet here he sat . . . motionless, without a thought on what to do next. Should he wait or return in the morning?

Amelia was likely livid with him, and she had every right to be, but she didn't understand what both these God-loving men were capable of doing. What they
had
been capable of doing. They were filled with evil. Darkness. It was a darkness that impenetrated him over the years, never letting go, feeding into his nightmares. He tore his gaze from the cabin.

Clucking his tongue, he rode his horse out of the clearing just as fast as he'd arrived. He would have to come back in the morning. If no one was here then, he'd figure out his next move at that point.

Damn it.

He didn't even know what the hell he planned to say to either man. Other than getting their confessions so they could be arrested, he had thought only of his revenge on the vicar to this date, not how he would actually carry it out, once given the chance.

His peripheral vision caught the tail of another horse riding a good quarter mile out from him. Nick slowed his gelding to see if he was being followed or if he'd just chanced across someone else in the wood. He wasn't one who believed in coincidences.

It could be that his eyes played tricks on him now that the sun barely kissed the sky and provided only enough light to give him direction back to the village, yet there wasn't enough light to make out the finer details of his surroundings.

He picked a slower pace, listening to the wood around him, trying to hear something different that might indicate he wasn't alone. There was nothing but the sounds he made in the coming dark of night.

He shook his head. Perhaps he was seeing things he wanted to see and not things that were actually there. The vicar would not outrun him or evade him for much longer. Of that much he was sure.

B
y the time Amelia dressed and made her way down to the inn's courtyard, she knew Nick had already gone. She probably could have followed on horseback, but she was out of practice and didn't trust herself to do so without injury.

She wasn't even sure where following him would get her. She was so spitting mad she was sure her temper was no better than that of a feral cat. There was nothing for it. She needed to walk off her anger. Walk off her frustration. Nick was always quick to cool his heels, and she should do the same.

Before she could make it too far from the courtyard, Huxley rode in next to a carriage—presumably the one that had gotten stuck in mud and that he'd lent a hand to free.

He was the last person she wanted to see right now.

“You have arrived earlier than we expected,” she said, trying for a sunny disposition but knowing she failed as her smile felt feigned even to her.

“Rode like the wind, Mrs. Riley.”

“It's through no fault of your own, Huxley. I wasn't sure we would even see you this night.”

“Here now,” he said in his gruff manner.

“I'm sorry you couldn't attend the ceremony. You are important to us both, and it would have meant a lot to have you there.” Especially me, she wanted to say, for he was the first person to reluctantly befriend her, but befriend her he had.

Huxley's expression warmed, but she doubted anyone would see the nuance in the way his eyes softened slightly. “Wished to have been here, I did.”

“Your trip here was longer than anticipated. Why don't you set yourself up in your room, rest a while, and take your evening meal? I have some errands to attend.” Errands? Was that truly all she could come up with? Hopefully Huxley didn't read through her lie.

“I'll see you later.” Huxley doffed his hat before steering his horse toward the stables.

She left the courtyard without so much as a glance backward. If she waited, it would become obvious that Nick was nowhere about. That she was alone, and that would prompt Huxley to follow and keep his ever-watchful eye on her. What she needed was time alone with her thoughts, and she could not do that in a room she shared with her husband, where his things were all about, mixed with hers.

That she had presumed marriage to be the solution to their problems forced a nervous laugh past her lips.

If there was one thing she had learned from the past day, it was that marriage was hard. Relationships were hard.

Fundamentally, she'd known marrying Nick was not the magical answer to solving the issues that lay unresolved between them. If marriage were easy, people would rush into it without a second thought, as the benefits and intimacy were enough to entice many, she was sure.

Her problem lay in the fact that Nick refused to share parts of himself he deemed too frightening or too much for her to handle. How was he to determine that?

Then there was the fact that he would close himself off when his dreams bothered him, when he woke in a terror in the middle of the night, ready to strangle her—though that had only happened once. Shouldn't he try to explain why he acted the way he did? Give her the details of his dreams so that she could help him when they came to him the next time? Since they'd been in Highgate, the frequency of his dreams had increased. They seemed to come every other day, and only because he was forced to sleep at some point and not pace their room all night long, trying to avoid whatever was haunting him. He thought she didn't know, but she did. She knew well that he was tormented by this place and had known it since they had arrived in the quaint village.

She felt helpless in so many ways. Partly because she didn't know how to assist her husband at crucial points and because he was too stubborn to share the content of his nightmares.

Who knew men could be so insufferable when something wasn't going their way?

And while that might not be a fair way of viewing Nick's . . . circumstance, how could she see it any other way when his only reaction was to shut himself off from her? He resorted to locking her out of his true feelings and keeping her from his real thoughts.

There was nothing he didn't know about her.

Absolutely nothing. And that was what infuriated her most. She inhaled deeply and tipped her head back to look at the stars twinkling to life. It was peaceful out here. And it chased away the negative thoughts that had taken hold of her mind.

It was coming up to dark, and she'd wandered pretty far from the inn. She turned back toward the village, looking at the lights that sparked to life along the main street and guided her way.

Pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders to keep the chill of the night from sinking into her bones, she enjoyed the solitude for a moment and looked up at the stars one last time. A night under the stars . . . she should drag Nick out here; he'd appreciate the calm of this place.

It was peaceful here, and she liked it a great deal more than she liked the bustle and noise of London. Her country roots were starting to shine through in this beautiful countryside. But her place was by her husband's side. Wherever he was, she knew she had to be. Truth be told, she'd follow him to the ends of the world, even when he was acting insufferable . . . because she loved him.

With a newfound resolve that surprised her, she knew she would figure out what made him tick. And she'd figure out a way to get him to open up to her.
Patience
, she counseled herself, and laughed, as that was what Nick always said when he was teasing her.

She exhaled a sigh and headed in the direction of the inn. It wasn't long before hooves clomped along the ground behind her in a steady tempo.

With a smile on her face, she turned, expecting to see Nick and hoping to find him in a better mood. What she got was something unexpected and too frightening for words. She couldn't be sure he saw her or even knew who she was in the twilight of evening; all she knew was that Nick's worries were intuitively correct.

Amelia picked up her skirts without a second thought and ran as fast as her heeled boots would carry her. She couldn't be more than quarter mile from the inn. But damn it, she could not outrun a horse.

A sob escaped her throat, and she stumbled in her path before righting herself and running again. Her lungs burned for air and she grew lightheaded the more she exerted herself.

Her shawl loosened, and she lost it at some point. She didn't dare stop to find it. She just pushed herself harder to move her legs faster, searching the village for another person walking about, searching for anyone who might save her from the monster riding on her heels. She could scream, but it would not help her if there was no one to come to her aid.

“Hold!” Shauley yelled in a timbre that commanded her to stop.

Amelia ignored him. She knew without a doubt that her life depended upon her reaching the village, which seemed so close before, but now, in the reality of this situation, was too far for comfort.

Why hadn't she heeded Nick's warnings? Why had she been so bloody stubborn?

“Hold, I say.” Shauley was closer now; she could almost feel his breath on the back of her neck as fear crawled over her skin.

The scenario reminded her of when she'd been his captive, imprisoned to his whims. All the emotions that had trapped her then came to the fore. Helpless, afraid. Unable to save herself. She swore to herself that she would heed every one of Nick's warnings if she got out of this situation. She would do whatever he asked, no matter how much it angered her.

She let out a yelp as Shauley grabbed the back of her dress and hauled her up into the saddle of his horse. She struggled against him, trying to shoot out her fists, her elbows, her knees. Anything that would get her out of his grasp.

The horse halted suddenly, and the black creature reared up on its back legs. That's when Amelia completely let go, hoping she'd fall. She'd take her chances if it meant getting out of Shauley's clutches. As horrible a thought as it was, she'd rather be dead than taken by him again.

“Damn it, woman. If you'd hold still, I'll settle us down.”

“Let me go!”

She gave him a good jab in the ribs with her elbow. The air whooshed out of his lungs.

“Goddamn it. Sit still, and I'll release you.”

“You expect me to believe you?” She renewed her struggle, but he only captured her arms—which belied the true strength of his slender frame—and managed to get one of his legs over both of hers.

With one hand, he grasped her neck, holding her tight and narrowing the path of her breathing. “I told you to stop.”

“Let go.” Her voice was strangled, breathless. She felt faint and focused on just breathing. She would not be able to defend herself if she lost consciousness.

“I'm going to let you go slowly. And you are going to behave.”

Her eyes started to drift shut, and black dots filled her vision.

When her arms went limp and lost all fight, he released her. He dropped her to the ground, and she landed with a heavy thud and a stab of pain through her hip and side.

“So much better now that you're cooperating.” His voice was sinister, evil.

She didn't answer him, not that she had a voice to do so. She breathed deeply, trying to gather her wits and find the strength she would need to run again. Because she refused to sit in the grass, helpless.

“Imagine my luck finding you wandering about the lovely countryside, alone. Where is your other half?” Shauley asked, leaning forward on his horse so that the heat of his rancid breath washed over her.

She tucked her leg under her and hissed in a pained breath. “What do you want?” Her voice was broken and raspy.

“Now, that is the question of the hour. There are so many things I require and so little time to obtain them. Believe it or not, I intend you no harm.”

She didn't believe him. How could she?

“Then let me go.” Amelia wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, the cooper taste in her mouth indicated that it bled.

“Not yet,” he said, as if they had all the time in the world. “I want to keep you a while longer.”

Like she was some sort of pet? She bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

“You will not keep me here.” Amelia snapped her mouth shut. She probably shouldn't have said that. She knew, fundamentally, that Shauley walked a fine line between right and wrong in this moment.

“I'll just run you over with my horse, should you try to escape me again. I can't recommend that form of death . . . quite painful.”

She swallowed against the nerves building in her, making her afraid to defend herself. She would not be a helpless victim of Shauley's ever again, or any man who thought he could cause her harm.

“What am I supposed to do to help you?” Her voice was low, defeated. She could not let him win so easily.

“Just provide your assistance.”

She nearly laughed but tamped down on the urge. He couldn't be serious. Why wasn't he stark, raving mad and dragging her off to the nearest hiding hole to torture her?

“I will not help you.”

“It comes with an exchange for your husband's safety.”

And why was Shauley so sure he could hurt her husband?

“How chivalrous,” she hissed as she tested her leg, which seemed to be moving well enough.

“Hardly. I need no reason for your husband to come looking for me. I have something I have to take care of, and he's getting in the way.”

Amelia pushed to her feet, feeling so much pain in her hip she nearly collapsed under her own weight. She took in a deep breath and focused on holding herself up. She must remain strong. If Shauley hadn't hurt her yet, perhaps he wouldn't. She nearly scoffed at her own stupidity. The pain in her hip had gotten to her head already.

“How do you go from kidnapping me, threatening my life, to wanting to have a civil conversation?”

“Recent circumstances have forced me to reevaluate my goals.” This was the calm, intelligent secretary to whom she'd first been introduced speaking to her, not the evil, sinister man who had kidnapped and then hurt her before Nick had saved her.

“Might I ask what that goal is? You had a decent life as Lord Murray's secretary. You threw it all away to get revenge on my husband.”

Shauley made a gruff noise in the back of his throat. “It all had a purpose. I had plans in place before your husband ruined it for me.”

Amelia tested her foot and nearly toppled over when she attempted to take a step back. She wobbled in place. She could not risk being taken by this madman again. She had to get her body moving, get away from this place and to somewhere safe. But how, when he'd already pointed out his horse was far faster than she? She believed him when she said he would run her down with the beast he rode upon.

“There is a bounty on you,” she reminded him, hoping it would make him think twice about being here, make him seek shelter hopefully without her in tow.

“One your husband so graciously put out for my capture. You'll find I'm a rather industrious man and not easily caught.”

None of this conversation felt real. Why wasn't Shauley trying to hurt her? He seemed perfectly normal.

“Are you telling me you have been hiding close to the village, waiting for the perfect moment to capture me again?”

“I was taken by surprise, finding you on the road. Taking you is too much a risk. I know that now.”

“Because Inspector Laurie is dead?”

She was amazed at how calm she sounded. On the inside she was ten kinds of horrified to be having a conversation with this sick man. He was too calm and collected right now. That frightened her more than his irrational side with which she'd been previously acquainted.

Something dark flickered in Shauley's eyes. Amelia braced herself and took another step back from him.