WoA2.23Smashwords (16 page)

* * *

Celia spoke to her housekeeper and the rest of her staff. They were informed that something irreplaceable was missing and that if it did not turn up shortly, they would each be questioned individually. I asked her not to be cruel. She was stern but it seemed only fair to make them aware of how important the journal was.

When I told Li about it she was distraught. There was still no sure answer of my relationship to Fleur and that bothered her. I told her of how she reacted when I questioned her and that calmed her a bit, but she was still skeptical, as Celia was. We moved on from the subject, and I told her about my predicament with the inheritance.

“Surely you believe Julian. His devotion to you is so obvious! Even if it is meant to be a ‘
marriage of convenience
’ what other option is there, Tam? We will be separated if you do not go to India with him. I don’t know if I can bear being alone in a strange place, and for such a long time!” she said.

“You would not be alone, you will have your husband!” I said mischievously.

“Yes, I love Leo dearly, but he will be bombarded with work. He has not learned the business of Punam and will be too busy to be worrying about his bumbling wife. I need
you
there with me,” she said and pouted.

“I have not remitted my agreement to marry him,” I said.

She hugged me hard then, and I could see that she really was frightened to be so far away without me by her side.

* * *

That evening there was talk of nothing but the garden party. I sat between Celia and Julian and pretended to hang onto everything she said so that I would not wind up in another quarrel with Julian. He seemed genuinely concerned that our relationship was in a delicate place, but I would not give him the satisfaction of pretending to be an innocent girl running toward the church.

I was reminded of a book I read some time ago from the library at
Anbetung
about a princess whose husband was chosen for her, as was often the case for nobility throughout history. She loathed the man to the point of nearly killing him, but by the time they reached their final days, she admits to having loved him for as long as they were together.

I thought that I was in love with Julian at one point, but I could not be sure if it was just my innocence. What did I really know of love? My parents died when I was so young that I never got to see their love for one another first hand. Except for what I read in my mother’s journal and their depiction in their portraits together, I did not know anything of their relationship. Had my Aunt and Uncle been really happy? They were not chosen for one another, but Uncle Charles was unfaithful to her within a few years of their marriage. Is this what I had to look forward to with Julian? An unfaithful husband who only cares enough to try to cover his tracks?

I relaxed when the ladies separated from the men after dinner. I had an intense need to get away from Julian. I could not keep my head straight, and I was starting to feel that old tension.

All of these thoughts spinning round in my mind led to me lying awake in bed that night. My eyes were on the drawer where my mother’s journal was when it disappeared. Though Celia told me what she knew, I needed to read the words myself.

I stared at the box with the floral carvings that the journal fell from when I dropped it. Since I knew it would be a sleepless night, I took my candle and walked over to the box. I touched the woman carved on the top, then closed my eyes and saw my mother’s face.

I opened the lid and looked at each of the trinkets inside. I placed the peacock on my wrist and held it up in the candle light. The lid suddenly slammed shut. I gasped but all was silent after. Breathing a sigh, I laughing at myself for being startled. Then there was a voice behind me that sent chills down my spine.

Eckhardt.

Was I imagining him behind me? It was the middle of the night, and I could not be certain if this was one of my nightmares, but it felt real.

I slowly turned to see him step out from the curtains. He held a short knife and spoke softly.

“Do not say a word.”

I was like stone. His clothes and hair were disheveled, and it appeared that he had not shaved or bathed in some time. He walked toward me with the knife pointed at eye level. It looked like one of Leo’s that was displayed with his medals in the portrait room. His hand reached for my hair, which he grabbed hold of so tightly that I gasped in pain. He turned me so that my back was to him with the knife pressed sharply against the skin of my neck.

He stunk of brandy and sweat, which dripped from his brow and onto my shoulder. His face was pressed hard against my cheek, and his skin felt hot and wet. The scratch of his stubble burned as it scraped against my temple. My breathing was heavy, and I was visibly shaking as he pushed me forward toward the door, holding my hair so tight that it stung.

“You waited all this time for me,” he said quietly as he walked me into the corridor.

“You have not taken a husband, cousin.” His lips were on my ear as he hissed the words, his sweat dripping down my cheek.

“I am to marry before Christmas,” I said loudly, and he slapped the hand that grasped my hair over my mouth. I considered biting it, but the hand was pressed so tightly that I could not even open my mouth.

“Quiet!” he hissed into my ear.

“You forget that you are in a delicate situation. You would do well to remember that I have a knife pressed to your neck, darling...” I looked sideways at him to say I understood, and his arm went around my waist as he continued to walk me forward, the knife still at my throat. The arm around my waist was caressing me, and I feared he might take advantage of the darkness.

“Where are you taking me?” I whispered with panic in my voice.

“Lord Hilbourne keeps a large sum hidden in his library. I have watched him add to it over the past few months. I have a bag to fill, and then you will come to the coast with me where you will become my wife. My family’s fortune will be restored with what Hilbourne keeps in the house and your inheritance,” he said with a quiet satisfaction; he had apparently been watching Hilbourne Abbey for a long time.

“You will give me an heir and the Eckhardt name will live on in purity.” He was fanatical, and I felt the blade of the knife pressing in. If I moved the wrong way, he would bleed me to death.

“I was in love with you, you know? You led me to believe that you would marry me. If you just agreed to do so, all would be well. You could have stopped those fires,” he whispered in my ear. I tried to stay calm because if I became hysterical, the knife might have slipped farther into my skin.

“When my mother told me that I was disowned... That’s when I knew what I must to do. That is when I started the fire at Rhineholt, to make you understand the folly of your decision...”

We were silent then, until we got to the library where he led me to one of the walls lined with books. His hands were large and one held both of my wrists in firm grip, with knife between his lips. While his back was turned to the case which concealed a compartment behind a row of books, I looked around me to devise an escape. I heard the creak of a floor board and I did not see anything, but I whipped my head around to face Eckhardt. He did not hear the sound. Someone was here, if I could just hold on a moment longer...

When he finished filling a sack with the spoils from the secret compartment, he again turned me so I faced forward with the knife at my throat, my head pressed into his chest. He pushed me toward the door. Suddenly he went limp. The knife dug into me, and I fell back with him to the floor with a thud. I scrambled from beneath his grip to see blood spill from his head, and Fleur standing with a wild, tormented expression on her face. She held a brass statue of a bull with blood dripping from it. Her chest heaved.

I took the statue from Fleur’s rigid fingers and dropped it to the ground, taking her into my arms. She was crying uncontrollably, and while I had tears on my face and I was shaking horribly, I held her tight while she sobbed into my shoulder.

Reginald came into the room having heard the ruckus and rushed over to us. He rang the bell and led us into the hallway so that we would not be facing Eckhardt's lifeless body any longer. Celia came down the stairs and saw the corpse, limp on the carpet, now in a lake of dark red. She fainted.

CHAPTER 13

Fleur leaned against me. She finally quieted her crying, but she would not speak, she simply stared straight ahead. Celia was roused by Reginald and stood facing out a window with her arms crossed, shaking her head occasionally. Reginald covered the body with a rug, and his men removed the corpse from the house and began to clean the pool of dark red that remained.

Sunlight began to shine through the windows, and I realized that I had been up the entire night. Bernadine took Fleur from me and led her away to her rooms to calm her and put her to bed. When Julian was awakened by his valet and told of the calamity he came right down. He held me tightly against him with his lips and cheek pressed hard against my forehead. He did not let go of me for a long time, and when he finally did, he would not drop my hand, even when we were offered a glass of brandy to take the edge from our nerves, which we both gladly accepted.

My demeanor was surprisingly calm. It seemed that everyone around me was frantic, but the man who wanted my life was dead. He brutally murdered my Aunt and Uncle and received his due as far as I was concerned. Perhaps it was a wicked way to think, but it was the only thing that was keeping me from breaking down.

Bernadine came running toward us. She was out of breath and had to stand for a moment to catch it before she finally spoke.

“Miss Tam!” She stopped for another breath. “Oh me dear, it’ll take a time to get used to it. Apologies, I mean Lady Rhineholt...”

I finally said, “Whatever is it? Please, take a seat to catch your breath.”

“...but I found this...” She said it with her chest heaving as she handed me my mother’s journal. Then she leaned against a wall shaking her head.

“I shall catch me death runnin’ up an’ down them stairs like a little striplin’!” I was overjoyed and hugged Bernadine as I took the book from her hands.

“Bernadine! Where was this?” I asked excitedly.

“In the corridor. I nearly slipped an‘ broke me neck, but I thought it might be important.” She was still catching her breath.

“You don’t know how important it is. Thank you! Eckhardt must have had it on him when he was in my room and dropped it when he dragged me down the stairs.” Julian seemed disturbed at the image of Eckhardt dragging me anywhere and his hand tightened around mine.

I realized that I had not told Julian anything about the journal, and I promised I would explain it all later. Celia was still at the window, and she clapped her hands to her face, her eyes wild.

“The garden party!” she shrieked. “The guests will begin to arrive this afternoon! It is too late to cancel, now! They will all be here before sunset, they are already heading here!” She was right, Hilbourne was far from town and even farther from London where many of the guests were coming from to stay through Sunday. When there was any event at the Abbey the guests usually stayed at least all night. If the party was cancelled on such short notice there would be questions and stories. We could not have this get out in the open. Bernadine held a handkerchief to her forehead to dab at the little beads of sweat from her jog.

“Me lady, might we move the dinner party to tomorrow evenin’? We could offer the guests a more simple dinner, tonight?”

“That’s a good plan of action, I think, considering half of the household will be too exhausted for us to host a party tonight. We will say that Tam and Li were indisposed so the party was moved. The guests were all to stay the weekend, anyway,” Celia said and I agreed. It was decided that there would be a casual buffet dinner that evening to keep the guests happy.

Julian walked me to my room.

“I know the timing is bad, but if you do not feel the time is right to announce the engagement tomorrow night... I can wait,” he said on the way. I looked down at my feet as we walked. I knew that I did not really have a choice, even if I was still troubled after the meeting with Mr. Gould. Fleur saved my life, and I could not let her leave my side, just because I could not afford to pay her wages. Her being with me was now more important than ever. I felt a strong sense of protection toward her.

“I suppose it’s too late to change my mind,” I mumbled.

“What was that?” he asked, but I think he heard what I said.

“I said yes, we will announce it tomorrow night at the party.” I spoke curtly.

“You say it like it’s a contractual agreement.” He turned me toward him.

“Is that not what it is?” I asked and went into my room leaving him puzzled in the hall.

* * *

Once I was alone in my room, I slid down the closed door and began to cry uncontrollably. I was awake all night and it seemed there was no way I would be able to calm myself to get any rest as the daylight crept brightly into the room. I refused to go near the curtains.

Picking myself up, I carried my mother’s journal to the bed and curled up in a ball. Silently, the tears streamed down my face, one after another. The room was spinning. I could not close my eyes for when I did there was only Eckhardt's face, pale with his eyes wide open, looking into nothingness, a sea of red growing beneath him.

How could this be my life? Only a year ago, Li and I were at the convent in Germany, careless of what our future's held, dancing together beneath the trees. I longed to be back there again. Aunt Emmaline and Uncle Charles would still be alive and I none the wiser to their plan that would eventually entangle me with Julian. Ignorant of Eckhardt’s relationship to me.

Then there was Fleur. Poor, sweet Fleur who saved my life. I was bound to her, always. I owed her my breath. As I thought this, I placed my hand on my throat and felt where the knife’s blade was pressed. The skin was raised as if I accidentally scratched my neck too hard. Because of Fleur, I would never have to look into Eckhardt's cruel face again.