Innocence Enslaved (21 page)

His tired gaze strayed to the branding rod hanging from a hook on the far wall. It carried his initials and was intended for his livestock. His mind flashed upon a searing hot iron meeting flawless white flesh, defiling it with an ugly, indelible red scar that declared to one and all that she was a runaway slave. While his stomach lurched, he bent over and breathed deep, trying to keep from losing the contents into the straw. As he calmed his roiling insides, his eyes noted something green amidst the hay on the floor. Reaching for it, he saw is was a scrap of velvet, torn from her gown. He twisted the soft fabric in his hands, rife with regret.

He’d been harsh with her, but not so cruel as others would demand. Maybe he should have used the paddle and beaten the fear of Lancore into her. Wouldn’t pain and welts that would fade by the morrow be better than an irreversible marring of her perfect skin?

Any of the townsfolk who had knowledge of her crime today could demand her punishment be evaluated, and if deemed lacking, could call for more. If Corbet refused, they had the right to petition the court to declare him unfit as a master. Once proven, she would be removed and become a ward of the court. Then he couldn’t save her, any and all penalties would be in play, and she would be sold to a new owner more capable of keeping her in the manner a slave should be treated.

There was no way he could chance that happening. He had to get her home, the sooner the better.

In the dark recesses of his mind, he could see the same things happening to Emilia as had once transpired with Sara. The similarities were already mounting. A long buried memory had resurfaced this evening when Emilia, tempting him with her sweet berry red lips, had asked him to kiss her,
just once
,
using the same words that Sara had. It was enough to bring him to his senses. He’d taken it as a sign, convinced that if he gave into those words as he once had with Sara that Emilia’s fate would be much the same.

He shouldn’t have told her that tonight had been for the benefit of the witnesses. He should have let her think he was cruel. “By my word, she would have hated me if I didn’t, but perhaps that would have been for the best.”

“She couldn’t hate you, sir. That little slip of a girl is in love with you.”

He jumped, spinning around to see Charles standing in the doorway. “God’s teeth, man, you scared the life out of me. What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep with all your scuffling and banging around in here. You forget my quarters are right behind the stable. I heard what happened earlier too, with the girl, why she came back. She loves you and by the look of it, you feel the same way.”

“Don’t be a fool, Charles. I’m merely frustrated with how to get her safely out of Lancore.” Corbet realized he still clutched her dress in his hand and tossed it on a stack of hay bales.

Charles took a seat on one of the stools closest to him, rubbing his hands over his knees, a nervous habit he had taken to. “Forgive me for saying, sir, but I heard more than the spanking you gave the girl. I heard the pleasure you gave her after. Reminded me of when Sara used to get your strap in this very stable and the—”

“That’s enough, Charles!” he said firmly, giving the man a warning glare not to take this any further.

“You would not have brought her, a dove, such pleasure without care or feeling between you. Perhaps her coming back to you is a sign that you should allow yourself to love again. That you are not cursed to a life of solitude after all. You know in your heart that Sara would want you to be happy, as you would have wanted for her had it been you in her place.”

“A sign?” He clenched his fists. “The sign was the wayward cart that careened down the street and separated us. A sign that I never should have gone through with this crazy scheme in the first place.” The frustration and pitch of his voice rose with each sentence as he continued. “Her coming back is my punishment. Now I have to explain more of the earl’s twisted rules and laws to her. I also have to figure out how to keep her safe until I can get her out of Lancore.” He ran his hands through his hair, clenching his jaw as he seated himself on a bale of straw.

“You might be surprised by what can happen in the name of love.” A calm, even smile slowly formed on Charles’ lips.

“You forget the price that is often paid in the name of that love.” Corbet grew subdued, anguish and regret in his voice. “I don’t think I can afford to pay it. Not this time, or with this woman.”

Charles got up and went to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps it will be different this time.”

“What?” Corbet exclaimed, cocking his head. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, sir,” Charles replied with the same cool smile as before. “Except that if you don’t give it a chance, you’ll never know.” He patted his shoulder before he took a few steps away and gazed out the door. “Sky’s changing to blue. I think I’ll catch a few winks before sunrise.”

Leaning on the bales behind him, Corbet closed his eyes, rubbing his pounding temples. He should get up and take himself to bed, but he hadn’t the energy. The straw would be fine for the little sleep he would get.

* * *

Corbet woke groggily a few hours later, the remnants of the recurring dream lingering. As usual, it was vague, the substance of it out of his reach. He recalled a meadow of wildflowers and a blond woman resembling Sara, but it was foggy. The more he tried to grasp its essence, the more it slipped away. It wasn’t the first time he had such a dream. Always he’d dismissed it as meaningless. Today, it seemed different.

What wasn’t vague or meaningless were his memories of what had occurred with Emilia right in this very barn. The situation was getting out of hand. Something had to be done and he knew precisely what it was, no matter how hard it was on them all.

He rose slowly to his feet, stiff from his hard makeshift bed. After stretching out the kinks in his back, he brushed the straw from his clothes, finger combed his hair, and headed for the back of the stable with steely determination. Without knocking, he threw open the door, startling the older man who lurched upright in his bed.

“We leave in three days. See that everything is prepared.”

“Your trip isn’t planned for weeks.”

“Plans change, Charles. Ready it all, but keep it under your cap. When we leave this time, we won’t return. I can stomach Lancore no longer.”

He spun on his heel and strode out the door; his next task was to inform Alice to pack up the household. He hadn’t gotten two steps over the threshold when he heard Charles’ response. “Saints be praised, I thought this day would never come.”

Chapter Fourteen

Emilia entered the kitchen the next morning and stared in wonder at the chaos. Muriel was wrapping dishes in cloth and bending head first to settle them in a deep barrel. Alice was directing two of the stable boys as they carried out crates filled to the brim with pots and pans. Two other women, who she’d never seen before, were wrapping loaves of bread and dried meat in cheesecloth.

“What’s going on?” she asked Muriel as she came out of the barrel, her hair wild around her shoulders from where she’d been topsy-turvy.

“The master has moved up his departure. He wants to leave Friday at dawn,” she answered as she twisted to grab another stack of wrapped plates.

“Does he always take his entire kitchen when he travels?”

Muriel glanced over her shoulder at her mother, who stood with her back to them, busily fussing over one of the boys as he cleaned up broken glass, a mess he’d apparently made. “I’m not supposed to know,” she whispered conspiratorially, eyes darting back and forth between her mother and Emilia, “but he plans an extensive trip and is closing up the house. Mother, Charles, and I are traveling with him, as well as two of his senior apprentices. The others are being sent home for the summer.”

“What about me?”

She glanced up, darks brows slanting in as if all of a sudden realizing something was wrong. “Uh, well. I’m sorry, what he planned to do with you wasn’t mentioned. I’m sure he means to bring you along.”

Her heart lurched as dread flowed through her. “Did he mention where he was traveling too?”

“Several places were mentioned.” Her eyes tilted up as she tried to recall. “Connard, Litchboro, and Melbourne were a few of the towns he planned to visit, though not in that order. I believe he said Melbourne would come first.”

Wounded at that bit of news, she turned and hurried back down the hall to the stairs.

“Em, what’s wrong?” Muriel called after her, but she didn’t stop, rushing headlong up the steps to her room. Once there, she went to the window and watched the bustle in the yard with her hand over her mouth to quiet her sobs. He’d told her his journey to Melbourne was months from now, in the fall. After last night, he’d moved up it up, anxious to get her gone. Heartbroken, she searched for him in the yard, locating him easily standing taller than anyone else, the golden strands in his brown hair glistening in the sunshine. She’d been too forward, lustfully throwing herself at him. Like a true pleasure slave, she’d played the whore; not only had she begged for a kiss, she’d wantonly asked him to take her, parting her thighs and displaying herself lewdly.

He’d called her a temptress. Of course he wouldn’t want such a slattern for a wife. She watched as he led his horse from the stable, mounted, and then rode off without so much as a glance in her direction.

Emilia sank onto the window bench, torn between joy over seeing her family again, and sorrow that Corbet, who she’d come to love with all her heart, would not be a part of her life. She sat staring out the window, seeing nothing, unaware of time passing, until her name was called from downstairs.

Slowly, she got up and made her way back to the kitchen.

“Eat, girl,” Alice admonished as she scuffled in on heavy feet. “You missed breakfast and it’s well past lunch. The master will not be pleased if you get sick or weak from lack of nourishment.”

“Why would he care?” she pouted as she flopped into a chair. “If I died of starvation he’d be well rid of me.”

“Emilia! What nonsense is this?” demanded a scandalized voice from behind her.

She twisted and saw Corbet standing at the sink, which was set in a recessed part of the kitchen off to the left and not easily visible from the door she’d entered through. She frowned in concentration, trying to come up with a quick and believable answer.

“Well?” he demanded, striding toward her. “What’s this talk about death and wanting rid of you. Who has put such thoughts in your head?”

He had, by rejecting her and now, in her mind, he was tossing her out like the rubbish, though she was smart enough not to utter her thoughts aloud. Instead, she remained silent, her gaze fixed on his booted feet.

“I have matters to attend to in my study. After you eat, and clean your plate of every bite, come to me. Maybe a full stomach will lighten your mood and you’ll be able to tell me what these morbid thoughts are about. Alice.”

“I’ll see that she finishes every bite, sir.”

She took a deep breath after he’d left, trying to compose herself as best she could before facing him across the desk where he’d strapped her. Had it been a few nights past? It seemed like forever.

“Foolish girl,” the older woman muttered as she set a bowl of steaming stew in front of her. “Have you no idea what he has done for you? The silver aside, he has risked Lord Ervin’s notice, something all of us wish to avoid. While he has the right, with the law on his side, he leaves you to your safe, warm bed every night. Do you think another having bought you would have been so kind? And now, he plans to see you home, yet you pout, cry, and are wholly unappreciative.”

“Mother, she doesn’t know our ways.”

“And she doesn’t bother to listen and learn from them either. Ungrateful, is what she is.”

Emilia felt even worse after Alice’s condemnation. She didn’t think she could manage a bit of the savory stew, but picked up her spoon rather than disobey Corbet further. A hand on her shoulder caused her to look up, meeting the sympathy in Muriel’s hazel eyes.

Comforted by her friendship, which was something she hadn’t expected to find, Emilia began to eat as she’d been ordered.

* * *

Knocking lightly on the door, she had an eerie sense that she’d done this before when he called, “Come,” and she entered. He was bent over his desk writing furiously.

“You asked to see me, sir?”

“Yes. First, how are you faring?”

“I’m fine.”

“You know what I’m referring to. Any bruises or lingering pain?”

She flushed hotly, looking away.

“Would you rather I tossed up your skirts and got my answer directly?”

“No, sir,” she quickly replied. “I’m sitting without any difficulty today.”

“And this idea that I’d be well rid of you if you were dead?”

“It was nothing, sir. Just me feeling homesick and sorry for myself.”

“Come here, then.” He pushed back in his chair.

Her eyes fell to his lap and she gasped, hands flying protectively to her bottom. “You’d spank me for missing my family?”

“No, little one. I have news that should please you, but I won’t tell you while you’re across the room.” He crooked his finger, motioning her near. When she came alongside his desk, he leaned forward, grasping her hands in his and pulled her close. As he did so, he grinned up at her, so handsome that her heart turned over. “We leave Lancore at the end of the week.”

She lowered her head, staring at their joined hands as the pain came surging back. “Muriel told me, though she didn’t know what you planned for me.”

“I’m taking you home, of course.”

Her chin quivered, unable to hide the agony.

“I thought you’d be pleased not to have to wait for months.”

“I am, sir. I shall be happy to see my family.”

“Then why the long face?”

“I’m simply relieved that this ordeal will be over, I suppose.”