Ravenous (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

“Your Grace, I thought perhaps we could speak upon our upcoming union?” she asked.

When the duke inclined his head, she continued on, “As you know, we are to be married in two days’ time. I must tell you that I am not entirely comfortable with the arrangement.” She stopped at the sudden glint in his eyes. He stood and paced slowly toward her.

Emma also stood and backed away until her spine hit the fireplace. He placed his hand upon her neck and leaned in deliberately.

He breathed into her ear, “You are mine, sweet Emma. From the first moment I saw you, I envisioned what your delectable body would look like after a sound beating. Molten with bruises in places I can only see, the excitement in your eyes as I take you and rip you apart from the inside out.”

Emma’s breath stopped short at his words. His hand upon her throat flexed slightly, so she could feel the pressure of his strength and the intent of his words. She tried to speak, but her voice was blocked by his big body pressed against her slight figure. His breath smelled foul, and his body odor brought tears to her eyes.

“You will marry me, Emma. You will give me sons, and you will endure what I have planned for you. I can already feel my prick inside of your cunt.”

Emma found the will to speak. “Your Grace…”

A stinging pain radiated across her face as his palm hit her cheek. “You will learn who your master is, girl, and you will keep your mouth shut!”

Her eye was on fire. She had never been hit before, and she at no time wanted to be hit again. She felt her whole face throb with pain, her head began to pound terribly, her throat ached, and her lungs were starved for air. A moment later her body was being shoved into a chair as she heard the door opening.

She was limp with confusion and paralyzed with fear. Her father entered, and the two men began to go through the paperwork without a thought to her presence.

After a time when she composed herself, she asked to be excused and quit the room. Her maid came upon her distressed mistress in her room and broke down in sobs with Emma.

“What am I to do, Lily? We have yet to find a permanent position for me, and I cannot marry that man. What we thought was the truth about him is true. He wishes to enslave me and to beat me. He was cruel and he nearly squeezed the life from my lungs. My father walked in and noticed nothing. I have tried everything, Lily,” Emma sobbed.

Seeing her mistress in anguish, Lily spoke, “Miss, I have heard a rumor only this day about an earl that has inherited two children, which need guidance. I hesitated to tell you of the position, because it is a report I heard from a maid in the Hinesburg home.”

Emma’s heart began to beat with excitement. This may be the answer to her prayers.

“However, miss, I heard he is reclusive, and that he is mad, you know, not quite right in his head. No one has seen him walk around during the day, and he is up all night. He has minimal servants, and the castle he lives in is old and in ill repair. The residence is a day and a night’s ride from here.”

Emma weighed her options. In her experience, rumors had been unfounded. However, talk of the duke was in truth. Being in misery, Emma asked, “He is looking for a governess for some adopted children?” At her maid’s nod, she went on, “And he is not married?”

“He has never been seen with a wife, miss. However, do you really feel as if you can flee this place and become a governess?”

“He struck me this evening and spoke of bruising my body and receiving pleasure from it.”

Thoughts flew through her head as she readied for bed. She would have to take a chance and dash to the earl’s castle and hope she gained employment.

She was the daughter of a baron, engaged to a duke, and she was ready to flee in hopes she could secure employment as a governess to an earl, who may very well be mad. Perhaps Emma was the insane one; however, she could not take the chance. She needed to try. She was to marry the duke the day after next. She would plan and pack tomorrow in secret. She could claim a headache and “rest” for her wedding. Emma was having many real headaches of late, sometimes crushing and debilitating. An actual sickness was beginning to form behind her eyes, and her stomach turned as she vomited into her chamber pot.

Emma did stay in bed the whole of the next day. Her headache was a reality. However, she moved about, gingerly, packing meager belongings into a bag. Most of her dresses were black and brown, suitable for mourning. Her brother’s death still pinched her breast and brought tears to her eyes. They were close during childhood. Being without their mother and having a heartless father made them rely on each other.

Finished with her task, she placed the dark sack underneath her bed and sat in a chair. She looked around the room and exhaled. She was escaping this evening. Emma had not told Lily, for she did not want the maid to have any real knowledge that she had fled to the castle. However, she could see genuine tears in her friend’s eyes.

That very evening after eating what her stomach could handle, she went to her room and waited for midnight. As the sun fell, and the moon rose, Emma’s heart and mind began to race. When the hour was upon her to leave, she crept through the hallway and out the servant’s entrance. She ran for the stable and picked one of her father’s best horses.

It had been some time since she had saddled her own horse. It took her but a few moments, and then she was riding into the night at a fast pace.

He felt a presence at the gate before his butler came into view. The lord of the house threw a flame that sent candles flickering.

“George, there is a visitor at the gate. I feel the presence of a girl.”

Just as suddenly as he said it, he felt her heart slow and her mind close off.

The earl stood suddenly and said, “Are James and Rose in bed?”

At his butler’s nod, he disappeared into the night and landed at the girl’s side. Her body wracked with shivers, and her heart was out of rhythm. He looked to the base of her pale throat and saw blood run swiftly through her veins. Her heart was attempting to keep pace with her lungs. With a curse, he swiftly transported them into the castle, sending his thoughts forward to set fire to the hearth.

He kept her in his arms as he removed her dress, leaving her in a corset, shift, and stockings. He looked at the brown dress and saw that it was of simple design. However, the material was soft and supple and made with quality. This girl was not of the working class. Curious, he tried to see into her mind and found it was blocked. Confused, he felt his power wrap around his body as he probed deeply. Still he could not see into her thoughts.

George, bring me a blanket.

I will bring it presently, my lord.

He set her in his lap as he sat upon a chair and warmed her near the fire for a few moments. His butler brought in a warm blanket as requested. George quit the room without another word. He knew his master well, and had learned not to question.

As George left the room, he studied the strange girl. He moved her hair away from her face, and time seemed to stop. She was indeed pale, but her lips were full and her face slender. This slip of a girl was not precisely a girl. She was a woman. He felt something akin to warmth spread through his chest, which was odd since his heart stopped beating exactly two hundred years ago.

Gabriel Saxon-Worthington, the Earl Halverson, was born in the year 1620, to a very wealthy and prominent family in Ireland. He was reared by his Christian family and had believed in God until the year 1655 when a woman of nobility took him to her bed and changed him into the monster he was now.

Gabriel stared into the face of the pale woman and saw color return to her cheeks. He once again tried to read into her mind, but found his efforts blocked once more. He shifted her in his lap and found she was petite, but curvaceous. A puzzle was afoot here, and he wanted to know why this woman had run her horse through the rain only to end at a stranger’s home, a castle no less. This story was a mystery that needed to be solved.

* * * *

The morning of Emma’s wedding day showed bright and cheerful. Her father was waiting for her to come downstairs to break her fast and then dress, when an upstairs maid came running down the stairs.

“My lord, my lord, she is gone. Mistress Emma is gone.”

The baron sat stock still in his seat. Emma was gone? No it could not be.

“What do you mean she is gone? Go search the house for her, she must be here!”

He ran behind the maid and encountered Lily crying in Emma’s room. The sheets looked as if she never slept there. He threw open her bureau and found some of her dresses missing.

“Where is she? Where is my daughter?” he screamed.

“We do not know, my lord. She vanished.”

The baron ran down the stairs just as his valet came upon him, “My lord, one of your horses is missing. The stable-boy counted only eight this morning.”

His heart stopped inside of his chest. The duke was expecting his daughter to be at the church within a few hours.

“Search the grounds, she could not have gone far, go now!”

As his servants dispersed he sat heavily into his chair and worried his fingers into bleeding.

Hours passed, and there was no sign of Emma. Guests were gathering in the church, and the baron had to tell the duke that his bride was missing. He made his way to the church with a heavy heart.

As he entered he saw that guests were seated. The cream of the
ton
was seated with the duke standing at the back of the church.

“Your grace, we need to speak in private,” he said.

“Where is Emma, Westlake?”

“That is the matter of which we need to discuss,” he pleaded.

They walked into a dressing room, and the baron began. “Emma is missing. She was not found in her bed this morning. Some of her clothing is gone, and no one knows her whereabouts. I have had a search party and Bow Street Runners looking for her, however, she seems to have disappeared.”

The duke looked carefully neutral, but the feeling of mounting fury was in the air.

He backed Westlake into a wall and said, “Are you saying that my bride has run away from her own wedding?” At the baron’s nod, he continued. “And you say you have been searching for her all morning, why did you not come to me immediately? The whole of the
ton
is waiting for a wedding that is not to happen today.”

“Your Grace…”

The baron was stopped by the duke’s hand upon his neck. “You will find her, and you will bring her to me. I have made an investment in your so-called properties as well as others. You will either find her, or I will have you arrested for fraud and sent to debtor’s prison. You will eventually hang from the gallows for this. Do you understand? You will as well explain to everyone that Emma is very ill and must wait to be married until she is better. I shall hire my own searchers. They can be very persuasive.”

As the duke was speaking he was gradually tightening his grip upon Westlake’s throat. He was barely able to breathe. He now knew that Emma was right about the duke, but what could he do? He did not want to be hanged. So he nodded his head and expelled a breath once he was released. With fright, he ran from the room and headed toward the guests. He composed himself to speak. He was to start the search for Emma this very day.

* * * *

Early morning’s light shown bright into Emma’s tired eyes as she squinted against the harsh rays. She had a moment of panic when she realized she was in an unfamiliar room. Her heart sped, and her thoughts reeled. Moments later an older woman entered the room with a washing bowl, and one of her dresses ironed and ready to wear.

“Morning, miss, just a moment, and I will help ye wash and dress. George has asked that ye are to be directly taken into the parlor for an interview. My name is Anne.”

Emma’s mind rebelled against standing up to wash and dress. She was just able to keep from vomiting.

“Is there any advice you can give me about his lordship?” Emma asked.

The aging maid turned to her and stated, “He is the best employer I have ever had. Is that why ye are here then, for employment?”

“I heard word he may be seeking a governess?”

“Aye, he has two children who need attention. Master James and Lady Rose,” she muttered.

That statement, even given in a harsh grumbling tone, was reassuring. There was employment to be had here. When she saw the castle at first glance last evening, it looked foreboding, not at all the kind of place a gently bred woman would reside. It was the perfect domicile to hide from her father and the abusive duke.

Dressed and composed, Emma quit the room to follow Anne to the parlor, where the butler was waiting with tea. Emma had never thought she could or would be hungry again, but her stomach gave a protesting growl at the small fare on the tray.

“Anne, it would seem our guest is famished. Send a more robust meal from the kitchens.”

Surprised by his notice of her state, Emma was asked to be seated.

George was direct and quick to the point. “We are curious as to why a young lady would come upon our residence late at night, and during a summer storm?”