An Unlikely Duchess (35 page)

“By the time Rebecca returned,” Sarah explained miserably, “everyone would know she was gone and she would be ruined.”

“And did you not wonder why such a man would merely dump her in the middle of nowhere and then leave her untouched?” Edward demanded, a hot fury burning inside of him.

“No, I did not,” wailed Sarah and he could tell that it was the truth. Sarah was malicious of that there was no doubt, but she would not sink to the depths of depravity that her partner in crime did.

“Why, Sarah? Why would you do such a thing?”

Sarah’s eyes had filled with tears again.

“I do not know. Jealousy, I suppose. The girl had the whole of London at her feet. Men adored her, women wanted to befriend her. She had the life I so desperately wanted. The life I should have had. And you. She had you, Edward.”

Edward had been shocked at this confession. He and Sarah had never shared any sort of attachment. Yes there’d been a kiss or two some years ago but that had been it and then the scandal of her very public affair had blown up and she’d scarpered back to the country, only returning as a married countess.

“Sarah, there was never anything between you and I,” Edward now said harshly. “Though I suspect you told Rebecca something different. That is why she was so upset last night, was it not? Why she thought that my feelings for her were insincere?”

His only answer was another tearful apology. But Edward had heard enough.

He moved to the door to leave but stopped just before exiting and turned back to the lady crying into her hands.

“I cannot think what to do with you until I have her back safe and well, but I will deal with you then. And, Sarah, I swear if he touches a hair on her head I will use everything in my power to make sure your life is completely destroyed.”

Sarah knew that he meant it, too and she prayed to God that he would find Lady Rebecca safe. For all their sakes.

Now the men had arrived outside the filthy tenement in the East End where George Simons had his rooms. It did not take more than a guinea to gain admittance to his room by the wizened and toothless landlord that led them up the narrow staircase.

The man had no key for the door but Edward soon had it opened using brute force.

The room was filthy, covered in empty whiskey bottles and ash and it smelled as if something had died in it. But the thing that froze the blood in Edward’s veins was discovered by Tom who was rifling through the lone desk in the room.

“Edward, I think you need to see this,” Tom’s voice called Edward from his task of searching under the bed.

Edward made his way over to the desk and stared in horror at what Tom held up to show him. There were pictures of Rebecca. Hundreds it seemed to be. Of her face, her walking by her father’s house, one, sickeningly, in the window of what Edward could only guess was her bedchamber at home at Ranford. It seemed that Simons had committed his watching to memory and had drawn it all. There were pictures everywhere, some had spilled onto the floor and as Edward bent to retrieve them, he noticed a small leather-bound diary.

He opened it on a random page and scanned the poor writing, so poor that some parts were illegible. Perhaps Simons was self-taught in the art of writing for the words were badly written and grossly misspelled. But their meaning was clear and it put the fear of God into Edward.

It was about her, all about her. Notes of when he’d clearly been following her. Rebecca had been right to be concerned about him. Edward flipped hurriedly to the front and saw that the first entry was on the first day he’d ever seen her. And every single entry since had been about her. He had no time to study it intently but one thing was clear — the more it went on, the darker and more twisted the writing became. His unhealthy obsession fairly jumped off the page.

Edward flipped back to the last entry to see if they could garner any clues. He read for a short while before a feeling of nausea mixed with murderous rage had him dropping to the rickety wooden chair that sat at the desk.

“My God,” he choked.

Tom reached over and plucked the diary from Edward’s hand, scanning the contents quickly.

He swore and glanced in disgust at Edward.

“Edward I—”

“Do not,” Edward interrupted him. “Just help me find her.”

He did not want to talk about what he’d read. He wanted to forget it but it was burned into his mind and he knew he would have nightmares about it for years to come. A detailed account of the sick man’s fantasies, his plans for what he meant to do when he had Rebecca alone. Edward felt the bile rise in his throat but shoved the thought ruthlessly from his mind. He would find her.

“Edward,” Tom’s shout broke through Edward’s disturbed thoughts. “I know where he is.”

Edward whipped around and saw Tom holding what appeared to be property deeds in his hand.

“The hunting lodge,” said Tom with a grim sort of satisfaction, “these must be the deeds he won.”

Edward snatched the parchment from Tom’s hands and scanned it, his heart leaping when he saw the name of the property. Without another word the two gentlemen rushed from the room and to their waiting horses outside.

The sky was beginning to darken with black rainclouds and Edward knew there was a storm on its way.

He hoped it was not an omen.

“Please,” he begged, “please let me reach her in time.”

****

Rebecca crouched behind the trunk of a towering tree and stifled the sobs threatening to wrack her body. Never had she been so afraid.

The shots had stopped now and she knew that Simons was in close pursuit.

A paralyzing fear gripped her that made her afraid to move but afraid to stay where she was.

Think, Rebecca, think!
Her mind whirled frantically. If she stayed where she was he would find her eventually. Her only chance was to keep running and hope she could find help from somewhere before he caught up to her. Or shoot her. She stood on shaking legs, her whole body soaking wet and shivering, and prepared to start running again.

Her feet were in agony and were bleeding and bruised beyond recognition but she must run. She must!

Before she could take a step, however, her stomach lurched as she heard Simons’ voice ring out through the woods.

“Rebecca,” he called, the wind taking the call and throwing it to the skies, “where are you?”

He laughed now and Rebecca tried desperately to figure out where he was, what direction he was coming from.

“Did you think you could escape? Where will you go, my Rebecca? You know you will not get far.”

He sounded as if he were coming closer but Rebecca did not know if that was just her mind playing tricks on her.

“I told you,” the shouting continued, “that I would kill you if you tried to escape. And I meant it.”

Rebecca closed her eyes and tried to take steadying breaths. She could not stay here; she had to try. Give herself a fighting chance.

Mustering the vestiges of her courage she shot out from behind the tree and started to run once more.

Rebecca knew the second he had spotted her.

He yelled in triumph before starting his pursuit.

“Rebecca,” he roared, “Stop.”

But she did not stop. The trees thinned out ahead and Rebecca knew that she was coming once more to the edge of the woods, albeit further away from the lodge. Surely there would be a road there and if there was even a small chance that someone would be travelling on it, she would be saved.

Once again, Rebecca ran with all her might. He was gaining on her; she could hear the pounding of his feet on the wet forest floor. She was so close to the edge of the trees now. There was a small dirt track that ran alongside it and, in the distance, what appeared to be a farmhouse.

She would never make it to the house. But if she could make it to a surrounding field maybe a farmer or perhaps a layman would be working and could offer assistance.

Her legs felt perilously close to failing her but on she pushed. She had just cleared the trees when she felt Simons weight crush her and they landed with a
thump
as he tackled her to the ground.

Rebecca hit her head on what felt like a rock or perhaps a protruding tree root. Either way it hurt like the devil and completely dazed her for a moment.

When her wits returned she realised that George Simons was looming above her and he looked terrifying. In that moment Rebecca’s control completely snapped and the full force of her panic pressed down on her. She screamed. As loudly as her lung would allow.

To her horror, Simons merely threw back his head and laughed. He had pinned her arms above her head and his knee was pressed painfully into her abdomen.

“You think someone will hear you out here? We’re quite alone. And I think it about time I taught you a lesson.”

Rebecca struggled with all her might. She felt a warm, sticky liquid run down her face from her head and realised with a fright that her head was bleeding from the fall. The world began to spin alarmingly but she could not lose consciousness now. She had to fight.

The candlestick had fallen in the scuffle and Rebecca twisted her head back to try and see it. It was mere inches ahead of her. She twisted and turned until she slipped out from under his knee then kicked out with the last of her strength and was satisfied to hear his grunt of pain as her foot connected with some part of him, though she knew not which.

He momentarily loosened his grip and Rebecca dived toward the candlestick. Simons had quickly recovered and dragged her back toward him. She hit out with the candlestick with all her might and miraculously made contact with the side of his head.

He immediately dropped his hands and stumbled backwards from the impact and the resulting dizziness.

Rebecca stumbled to her feet and staggered forward. Her vision was blurry and the world still spun sickeningly but she did not let it stop her progress.

The candlestick had only gained her seconds to make her escape. And she knew with a hopeless despondency that it would not be enough. And there was nothing left in her to fight with.

Looking up, Rebecca thought she saw something or someone rushing toward her but the darkness was claiming her again. As she felt George Simons’ hands close around her and drag her to the ground once more Rebecca knew that she was lost.

She almost welcomed the darkness now; it would help her hide from the horror that was about to befall her.

Perhaps the darkness had already come, she thought in wonder seconds later as she heard a riot of sounds above her before a vision of Edward swam in front of her eyes.

“Rebecca, my love, can you hear me? There is so much blood, Tom. I do not know what to do. Rebecca, Rebecca please. Please hold on. Please do not leave me. I love you.” His words ended on a broken sob and Rebecca vaguely wondered why her mind had conjured up such a pained image of her love before she finally lapsed into complete silence.

****

Edward rode until he thought his horse would collapse from the strain. He rode through the pouring rain as if his very life depended on it. And it did. If he were to lose her now, his life would be over. If she died, his heart would die right along with her.

He needed to save her for both of them. For he was nothing without her.

And he had not told her. Not held her and told her how completely perfect she was. Last night, when she was saying all of those hurtful things, he should have told her then. Told her that the only duchess he wanted was her. That she did not need to change a damned thing. That she was all he ever wanted.

He could not be too late.

They rode for what felt like days until finally Tom gave a shout and pointed ahead and to the right. The lodge! They had arrived.

Edward was just turning to tell Tom to go round the back while he, Edward went through the front when the noise of a gunshot rent the air. They both pulled their horses up to listen. An icy fear gripping Edward’s heart.

They strained to listen for any other noises and Edward thought he heard a shout. Then another.

“Tom,” he said desperately, “that sounds like a man’s voice does it not?”

Tom nodded his agreement and Edward signalled that they go forward more cautiously.

They had begun a slow trot when the distinctive sound of a woman’s scream filled the air.

Rebecca!

Edward broke into a gallop and flew toward the noise.

They rode past the house, for the sound had seemed to come from the small woods on the opposite side of the track they were on.

They kept their eyes trained on the trees up ahead and suddenly Edward spotted a figure stumbling out. The figure of a lady. My God, it was Rebecca!

He was about to call out when the figure staggered to a stop and swayed alarmingly. Just then, another figure reached out and dragged the lady back toward the trees.

A fury such as he’d never known burst through Edward setting his very blood on fire.

He would kill him. He would kill him with his bare hands.

Both Edward and Tom came to a stop at the same time, before the worst scene Edward could have imagined.

Rebecca’s eyes were opened but worryingly glazed, her hair matted to her face with blood, and George Simons was leaning over her and tearing at her dress.

With a roar of rage Edward grabbed him and flung him bodily away from Rebecca. Before the man could even sit up, Edward was on him, pummelling him with a savagery he’d never felt before in his life.

He could feel Tom’s arms around his chest, straining to pull him off the bastard but Edward would not be moved.

“Edward. Stop,” commanded Tom but to no avail.

“I will kill him,” Edward vowed ferociously, “I swear, I will kill him.”

“Edward, please,” Tom shouted, still pulling with all his might, “Rebecca. She needs you. She needs you Edward.”

It was the only thing he could have said that would cut through the red haze surrounding Edward. He turned immediately and flew to her side, dropping to his knees by her head.

Her eyes were open but he could tell that she was fast losing consciousness.