Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep (Werewolf Keep Trilogy) (9 page)

He jerked away, a pleasing degree of shock registering on his unpleasant face. Then his eyes narrowed and he smiled nastily. ‘You
may
rather die before I am finished with you. I do not think you fully comprehend the nature of your intended. I have been of service to some of the most important men of the realm. When there is something that goes beyond ordinary measures or requires a firmer, subtler hand, such men turn to me. Even your dear husband did so at one time.

‘
Did you know he got a young lady with child not long after he married you? The lady in question threatened to out him in society. It is one thing to have bastards by lower class women, but for a married man to have taken the virtue of a lady of class…well, it was not acceptable.’

‘Howard would never do such a thing!’ she denied furiously. But
, even as she did so, she had to wonder. He had indicated that she did little to raise his ardour. Maybe turning to another young woman achieved that end. But the story was not finished. What call did Howard have for Rathgart in this matter?

‘I can see you are reconsidering your loyal defence of your husband. Wise. Howard was directed to me by a mutual acquaintance. He required
the young lady to miscarry. Easily done, given that women do it all the time, often intentionally.

‘So
I was able to make that happen. Unfortunately, the poison I administered did more than cause a miscarriage. It killed her. Howard was peeved with me for that. But I did warn him that such matters were a delicate balance. Not enough and the child survives; too much and child and mother die.’

‘He had you poison her? Oh good heavens!’ She rubbed at her forehead
, desperately trying to scrub away the images that came to mind. It was bad enough to imagine Howard with another woman. It was even more horrible to imagine someone dead on his orders. It didn’t matter that he had not intended the lady’s death. He had ordered the child killed. In a way, that seemed even worse. She shuddered and shrank back into the richly upholstered seat, seeking the comforting heat of the warming coals at her feet. The fast approaching night was made even more icy by the frightening revelations she was being told.

‘So you see
, I am not a man to be trifled with, nor underestimated,’ he concluded proudly, sitting back on his own side and putting up his booted feet so that the muddy heel grazed her skirts. ‘If I say you will marry me, you will do just that.’

‘But why me? I had never so much as laid eye
s on you until after Howard died. Why would you want me?’

He smiled smugly and wiggled
his moustaches suggestively. ‘At first it was not so much you as what you represent. Howard had a peerage, more wealth than any man deserved and a pretty little noblewoman, wealthy in her own right. I wanted some of that. I wanted you and the wealth that comes with you. And I had seen you on many occasions. You were just never aware of it.’

‘I can give you money. If that is what you want, I will give you everything I possess. Just let me go.’

He grinned at her and shook his head, folding his arms over his narrow chest. ‘I do not want just your wealth; I want you, my dearest, and your position in society. The ton has always kept me out, as if I was some inferior species, not one of them. Now I will be. I will be the husband of the widow of the Duke of Clarence.’

‘Do you think the ton will accept you when they find out
you forced me into marriage?’

‘My dear, they will re
quire that I marry you, to save your honour. After all, you were seen leaving that hotel with me of your own free will.’

‘I will not do it,’ she said finally, crossing her arms over her own chest and turning her face away.

The amused and sinister chuckle that was his answer turned her blood cold.

She should be
terrified, she realised. But all she could manage was a feeling of disbelief. This day had brought her one shock after another, and now she couldn’t take any more in. Jasper had taken her to the blinding heights of passion, heights of which she’d never believed herself capable. Then he’d thrown her down into the deepest pit of despair. A pit she hadn’t managed to climb out of when Rathgart arrived and, as bold as brass, took her from the hotel in front of everyone.

They hadn’t known she didn’t go willingly. The pistol he held at her side was hidden from c
urious onlookers. Only Maude understood what was happening. Only she knew that her mistress would never go with this madman willingly.

Would Maude
get help? But where would she turn? Philomena at Breckenhill Keep or the local constabulary? Which was the most likely to arrange a rescue mission in time? The carriage they travelled in was moving at a tremendous pace along icy roads. It was a dangerously reckless pace that could find them overturned in a ditch at any moment.

But wouldn’t that be better? If she survived the accident, surely that would give her rescuers time to catch up? But what if they didn’t find them, and they were lying in the snow for hours, slowly freezing to death
?

And wouldn’t it be just as dangerous for anyone who came pursuing them? She couldn’t stand the idea that she would be responsible for someone else’s death or injury. Maybe it would be better if
Maude didn’t get word to Phil. Maybe it was better if no one came after her.

It was some time
after dark when the horses began to slow. Rathgart, who had been dosing in his seat, pistol in hand, was suddenly wide awake. He stuck his head out the window to find out what was happening, letting in a blast of freezing air.

‘Why
are you stopping?’ He yelled up at the driver.

‘S
omething’s on the road ahead!’ Came the reply she barely caught.

‘Drive on through!’ demanded Rathgart

‘Can’t. Horses’re spooked.’

And slowly the carriage came to a h
alt. She could hear the horses shifting anxiously in their traces and the calming words of the driver. Her own pulse suddenly skittered to life as the hair on the back of her neck rose. She gripped the fabric of her black skirt to keep her gloved hands from shaking.

‘Damn it!’ Rathgart swore, opening the carriage door. ‘Do
not even think of trying to run. We are out in the middle of nowhere, and it is freezing cold. You would not last an hour. Stay in here and keep your mouth shut.’

Any gentlemanly mask he had worn in th
e past was now gone for good. Rathgart spoke to her like a thing, a possession he now considered he owned. Well, he would find out soon enough that she was never going to be owned by a madman. If she had to freeze to death wandering the forest, then that was what she’d do at the first opportunity.

That was when she heard it: a
howl, like that of a wolf, but deeper and more rumbling. She’d heard the same sound the night before, outside her hotel. It had kept her awake for several hours, until the creature had finally given up and gone away. Or she had assumed it had gone.

‘My God, what is that thing?’ Rathgart yelled
into the night.

She wasn’t waiting to find out.
She slid out the opposite door, just as the carriage sprang forward and took off into the night. Staggering under the unwieldy weight of her skirts in the three inches of fallen snow, she turned for the dark woods.

Behind her
a pistol exploded. In one endless, unreal moment, she waited to feel the inexorable pain where the bullet had hit. But when no pain registered, she turned back in confusion to see whether Rathgart was reloading to take aim again.

What she witnessed next was even more frightening than a man pointing a pistol at her.
The moon was full and bright, making the scene before her as clear as day. She saw a monstrous black wolf tearing across the snow toward Rathgart. Wisps of smoke from the fired pistol showed her that it was not she Rathgart had been aiming for. The shot had been meant for the monster now hurtling toward him.

Helpless and terrified, his one shot wasted, Rathgart dropped his pistol and raised his arms to fend off the beast.
‘No…No…Get back!’ he cried.

Even
she could see how useless his words and gesture were, up against such a monster.

Heart racing, Fidelia
was caught between the mindless need to run and the even more irrational urge to freeze. She held her breath, waiting in horror for the inevitable end. Waiting for the monster to claim its prey.

The beast bounded into the air in a graceful
arc, silhouetted against the huge moon. For several long moments, it was almost as if it was flying. Then it crashed to earth with the struggling man beneath it.

Rathgart screamed –
one piercing, hair-raising scream – before the beast took the man’s throat in its great jaws and shook its head. The scream turned to a gurgling, guttural wheeze. Then it stopped. The only sound to be heard in the frozen moonlight now was the frenzied snarls of the wolf as it tossed the lifeless body around as if it was a rag doll.

Finally
, the beast stilled, all interest in its prey gone. Lifting its huge head, it sniffed the air.

Fidelia shivered
as cold sweat ran down between her breasts. Now it was her turn.

The madness that had claimed the monster
only moments before was eerily absent now, as it turned in her direction. She saw blue eyes staring at her, glowing strangely in the moonlit darkness. Those eyes held wildness and something else…Regret? Shame? Surely not.

Then the anomaly struck her.

Blue eyes? How could this beast have blue eyes?

But before
she could properly process what she was seeing, the monster began to lope towards her.

For a moment
, Fidelia almost gave in to the urge to run. But her dress was too cumbersome, her shoes not suitable for the snow. And she was just too tired, traumatised and defeated to even attempt an escape. If her fate was to be torn apart by this beast, as it had done to Rathgart, then so be it.

But the huge wolf-
creature came to a halt just in front of her. It whined and cocked its head to the side, as if trying to understand why she just stood there, waiting for her end. Then it moved closer and sniffed at her hand, its bloody muzzle soft against her gloved skin.

Surely
, if it was going to take her down it would be snarling at her, wouldn’t it?

I
nstead, it was nudging her hand gently, as if asking to be stroked. The creature stood almost to her breast, and its frame was huge. She should have been terrified. But, as the beast continued to gently nudge her hand, she realised she wasn’t afraid. This creature from her worst nightmare didn’t mean her any harm.

Tentatively, she
lifted her hand and rested it on top of the surprisingly soft fur of its head. Familiar blue eyes met hers for a moment before closing, as if savouring the moment. Then it lifted its great head, encouraging her to do more than rest her hand there. Slowly, very slowly, she began to stroke the beast between its ears, and then down its neck. It whined again and ran its jowls along the side of her breast, more like a cat than a dog.

A cold wind blew at her skirts and she shivered. Now that the immediate threat of death from the beast had passed, she realised she was still in great danger. If she didn’
t find shelter soon, she would die. Her clothes, which barely kept her warm enough within the heated coach, were now no impediment to the icy wind.

The wolf turned
and began nudging her toward the woods. Should she let it take her? Maybe it waited to kill her until it was closer to its home. Even for such a big beast, dragging her body would have been difficult. But no, she was giving human intellect to an instinctual creature. It would never think to do something so sensible. And if food was what it was after, it would have eaten Rathgart or dragged his body to its home.

She let it nudge her on, still undec
ided about its intentions. What she did know was that staying where she was seemed the poorest of alternatives. At least if she was moving, she could keep warm. And the roads were deserted. No passing carriage would come down this road to pick her up. They had been the only fools out on the road tonight.

Because she had the blind pulled down on the carriage, she hadn’t been aware of her surroundings until she left it. By moonlight, all she had seen was trees. But the further into the forest she went, the more she was aware of something towering in front of them, something bigger than the trees, something that blocked out
part of the sky. It was a rocky cliff gouged out of the hillside, she decided, as the wolf led her to its base.

Then, before she had properly taken it in, the creatur
e nudged her to the right and she saw a cave entrance. Was this the creature’s home? Would there be other wolves in that cave, wolves less friendly than this one?

It didn’t give her a chance to wonder further. Another gust of freezing air had her moving f
orward at its direction, lowering her head to enter the small, confined space. No, not big enough for a family of these creatures. If this was its home, then it lived here alone. It was so dark she could only make out the outline of the walls as she felt her way with her hands. At least the snow hadn’t blown in, and when she bent over to touch it, the dirt of the cave floor seemed dry.