Chapter Seventeen

 

Turning the page in the book of poetry, Annabel tried her best to feign reading as she considered her options. She had spent the previous night gazing out at the storm and allowing her mind to devise several methods of escape. From their conversation, she had learned the truth; he had no intention of harming her, and therefore, she could draw the conclusion that her aunt was also in no real danger. At least not from Edward. If she could get to Scarlett Hall before whomever was behind this dreadful act, perhaps she could put a stop to that person harming her aunt.

The more she considered escape, the more she knew it had to be done. She could not remain here in this cottage, not with how this man made her feel. Her actions with her ankle had been most unladylike, and remaining could bring about other actions that could very well send her tumbling down a moral well.

Edward spent a good portion of his afternoon and most of the evening drinking. The best way to make her escape was to wait for him to drink himself into a stupor and climb out the window. Now that she had encountered one of the guards, she had an idea what to expect. Keeping to the shadows would be imperative, for the guard who found her this time might not be as lenient as the first. If she happened upon the same man, perhaps a kiss or two would pay for his silence once more.

Knowing in which direction she should go was a challenge, but she had no doubt her first instincts had been correct. If a village did not lay the direction from where they came, then it had to be in the opposite. It made the most sense. Cottages would not be clustered together as these were unless they were near a village or town.

“You appear to truly enjoy poetry.”

Startled, Annabel glanced over at Edward, who sat in the opposite chair just as he had the night before. Bereft of his coat and wearing only his shirtsleeves, he smoothed down dark hair, the muscle in his arm pushing against the material causing the moisture in her mouth and throat to evaporate. How could he affect her so?

“Would you care to share a line with me?” He smiled, which sent that now familiar tingle through her insides. The man had not shaved since they arrived, and for some reason she found him even more handsome with the short beard that was forming on his jaw. Or was it his eyes that captivated her?

This is silly! she chastised silently. How often had he articulated that he was her kidnapper and she his captive? What was she doing having thoughts of what lay beneath the sleeve of his shirt?

“It is some of the finest words I have ever read,” she replied. “I would be happy to share a few lines.” Looking down at the text, she hoped the words were indeed good, for she had not read a single line in nearly an hour. “‘The kiss from my lover awakens me; The passing of the day calls forth a new desire…’”

Her cheeks flamed, and Edward laughed. That was not what she had expected at all! Of all the pages to which she could have opened the book, did it have to be this one?

“Again,” he said, still chuckling, “I find you are not as innocent as you claim. Do you believe the words bold?”

Annabel swallowed hard. “I find them bold and forthright,” she replied, jutting her chin in hopes of belying the deep blush that had to be covering her face. “Any man who would speak such lines would be a rogue.”

Edward shook his head, leaned forward, and began reciting.

 

The passing of the day calls forth a new desire.

Night calls and she is with me.

Then with sunrise she appears again.

 

Annabel glanced down at the text and gasped. “How did you know…?” Then she smiled. “You lied! You do enjoy poetry.”

He reached across the small table and took the book from her hands. “I did once. I would not advise reading these types of books, for their words only fill your head with rubbish.” He walked over and placed the book atop the others. “I must go into the village and collect supplies. I would rather you wear one of the simpler dresses; I would not want anyone noticing the fineness of yours.”

She looked down at the dress she wore. It was the one she had been wearing when she was taken, and it was indeed much more extravagant than a woman of simpler means would own. “I suppose you are right,” she said, although her thoughts were on the fact he was willing to allow her to accompany him to the village rather than what type of clothing she wore. The thought of leaving the house was appealing, however, and she would wear the simplest dress available if it allowed her to see something more than the walls of the cottage or the large field behind the house.

She went to the room and chose a dress with little adornment. It was made of a course fabric, more than likely burlap, and was a drab brown. However, it would catch fewer eyes than what she currently wore.

Once she had donned the dress, she found a new respect for the poor who had nothing more than this type of clothing, for it made her itch despite the fact she had left her shift beneath it. Not to mention it was a size too small. Would she burst the stitching?

When she emerged from the room, Edward, who had been facing the window, turned and said, “So, the lady has decided…” He stopped, his eyes widening.

At first, Annabel had no idea what had caused him pause, but when she looked down, she stifled a gasp. The smaller size forced her breasts to nearly burst out of the neckline! She grasped her skirts to keep from covering her bosom. She had not been the one who chose the dresses!

He cleared his throat, and Annabel could detect redness in his cheeks. “We should go.” He turned on his heel and left the cottage, not even waiting to see if she would follow.

Annabel clicked her tongue. It was not as if she was wearing some of the indecent gowns many women of the ton wore these days! Men were a strange lot.

She followed him outside, closing the door behind her, and they continued down the path that led to the road. Tiny droplets clung to the blades of grass, the sun threatening to chase them away.

“So, you trust me to go into the village with you?” Annabel asked. “What if I were to scream for help?”

He stopped and took hold of her wrist. “It would be bad for you,” he said with a low growl. “I may wish to see you remain alive, but I would have to consider breaking my promise to you if you did something foolish.” He released his grip and returned to their trek, taking a right at the road.

Annabel glanced at the nearby cottages and thought about the guard she had encountered during her attempted escape. She doubted her luck was bad enough that they would encounter the man now, but she could not help but feel discomforted by the idea.

“Are you thinking of escaping?” Edward asked. “Is that why you asked about bringing unwanted attention to us?”

Her question had been one of curiosity; she had not thought about how it would make him suspicious. “I will not scream, nor will I bring us unwanted attention. I was merely curious as to whether you would hurt me.”

“You continue to ask me that same question. Do you expect me to hurt you at any moment? Since I…acquired you, have I done anything improper, let alone threatening?”

“No,” Annabel replied. Then she giggled.

“And now what do you find so humorous?” he asked.

“You kidnapped me, and yet here we are speaking as friends and even walking into the village together.”

Quite suddenly and without warning, a great wave of hopelessness overcame her and she halted in place on the road. It was as if her entire life had been caught up and placed upon her shoulders, the weight unbearable.

“To think that not long ago I was concerned with what I wore when you called on me, for I wished you to like me.” She wiped tears from her eyes. “Now I must be concerned for my safety as I walk with my kidnapper to purchase goods in order to remain alone with him in a cottage surrounded by guards.”

Edward gave her an exasperated sigh. “I told you that you have nothing to fear from me.”

“It is not that I do not believe you,” she said with a sniffle. “What I have come to realize is that someone out there does wish to harm me. My aunt is at Scarlett Hall, and her life may be in jeopardy, and someone is to blame for all this.” The air pressed against her, but when calloused hands reached out and brushed away her tears, the pressure released.

“Your aunt is safe, and I swear on my family name that no harm will come to her, at least not from me.”

Although there was every reason not to believe this man, Annabel found she did. It was the strangest of feelings to trust a man who had tricked you in order to abduct you, but her heart told her it was true.

“Now, come,” he said, continuing the journey. “I would like to return before the sun sets.”

With a nod and a sniffle, Annabel followed after him. She had no choice but to trust him.

***

Edward followed the road, his heart heavy with guilt, which had only increased each day since their arrival at the cottage. The village was no more than a mile away, if the instructions left for him were correct. It seemed they had already walked several, although he knew they had not.

He had never kidnapped a woman before, and now that he had experienced such an act, he swore never to do such a heinous act again.

That first day, Annabel had been in a state of panic, which had lessened as the days followed, but her fear still remained. And for good reason; although she was not aware of that fact. For the most part, she had held strong due to an inner core of strength she did not seem to recognize she possessed.

Even in her current predicament, Annabel thought about the safety of her aunt, a woman Edward had admired upon meeting her. The baroness held herself with an almost regal stance, yet she bore the look of a woman who had endured many hardships. She did not wear her problems on her sleeve, but Edward had known too many who had been forced to hide behind a strength that would tear down lesser people.

Annabel resembled her aunt in so many ways, although she had a meekness about her that he suspected would dissipate over time. One day she would realize what she had, and he had no doubt it would serve her well.

A sniffle caused him to glance over at Annabel, who, although no longer weeping, remained in distress. What did he expect? Even the most resolute person might crumble beneath the hardship he had placed on her.

How simple the plan had seemed when it was presented to him. He was given a means by which he would gain a tidy sum of wealth, which in turn would allow him to rebuild what he had lost. Was the cost worth the suffering? The poor girl had only been in search of love. Was he not one who understood all too well how easy it was to be duped by one who offered it? Yet, that search had only led to pain, and he was the cause.

Not the cause exactly, for it had not been he who had orchestrated this infernal kidnapping in the first place.

What ignorance! He was the one who had done the act, and therefore that made him as guilty as the man who had come to him, whoever that man was.

A carriage rolled past them, the horses snorting as their hooves beat the ground. The driver did not give them a second look, for which Edward was relieved. They had yet to arrive at the village, but as another carriage passed them, he knew they had to be close. The cottages now sat closer together, and they encountered more people traveling in both directions the further from the cottage they were.

“The burlap is a bit itchy,” Annabel said as she adjusted the dress, “but it is more comfortable than I first expected.” She glanced his way, her eyes wide. “I am not complaining.”

“No, you are not,” he said.

For some reason, memories of the night he had kissed her came roaring back, and he had to fight them. He had experienced those feelings before, and they had led him to a place to which he did not wish to return. He had to do something to keep thoughts of the two of them together as more than captor and captive, or he would pull her into his arms right there on the road. “When you return to Scarlett Hall, will you be required to marry this Lord Agar?”

“Yes,” she replied with a sigh. “I am not supposed to tell anyone, but I see no harm in telling you. My aunt wished to send me to the home of my cousin Juliet to wait until I could safely return. In that time, we would find a man more suitable. That is the reason I sneaked out to meet you that night.”

“To see if I would marry you?” he asked with a chuckle.

She giggled, the sound warming his heart. “No. You see, I was afraid that, if I left before I saw you again, I may never know what was truly on my heart.”

The guilt returned, and Edward focused on the road in front of him. “As you have seen, listening to one’s heart only brings trouble, just as I have told you already.”

“I do not believe so,” she replied, her voice now cheerful once again. “I have come to see the person you truly are.”

Always the foolish girl, he thought. Aloud, he said, “Oh? And who is that?”

“A man who, for reasons I do not understand, makes decisions he does not like. I think Don Ricardo is an expression of your former self, for he is who you truly are. A kind man who enjoys poetry and cares for others more than he admits. You are not the man you wish me to believe you to be.”

Edward could say nothing, for what she said was true. Don Ricardo was very much the man he wished to be, a man of title as well as integrity. However, that man died long ago, and the drunken fool he was now had taken his place.

He gave her a sideways glance. The woman trusted him, but he had done nothing but use her in order to get what he wanted. How could he possibly consider hurting her further? Would it not be better for her to return to her family and meet a man who showed her the respect she deserved?

She smiled at him, and it was as if a chisel pierced his heart, breaking through the protective wall he had placed around it. She was indeed the way to restore his place in society, but even if he was successful, even if all he had lost was restored, would any of it matter?

He shook his head to clear away the thoughts and allowed the hardness to return. As long as she was kept safe and was returned to Scarlett Hall without blemish, surely he was not as evil as other criminals. Perhaps he was more a protector than a captor.

Feeling reassured, he glanced once more at Annabel and smiled. The woman had a wonderful nature about her, and she was willing to adapt, thus making the situation easier on him. He pushed away the twinges of guilt. If she was in great distress she would not smile as she did now.

“I see that smile you wear,” she said, causing his thoughts to cease. “You must be very happy.”

Edward nodded as they came to the crest of a hill, the village now below them. “I am,” he replied. For the first time in many years, I am happy.”

It did not occur to him at that moment how strange that statement was.

***

They had entered several shops in order to purchase enough supplies to last another fortnight. If all went according to plan, they would not need more, for he would be returning Annabel to Scarlett Hall soon after. He would then plan his next move to find a way to gain employment that did not require him to break the law. Then, perhaps after careful investment and hard work, he could emerge as Viscount Wolcott once again.

He thanked the shopkeeper and led Annabel back outside. The street was lined with shops, and although few pedestrians ambled about, those who did gave them not a second look. That had been the reason he had arrived bereft of his coat and why he had asked Annabel to wear a more appropriate dress. He had hoped that they would not draw any attention and send the town gossips into a frenzy wondering who the new couple of means could possibly be.

Annabel stopped in front of a shop window. “That hat is lovely. I cannot decide if yellow or blue is my favorite color.” She turned and looked up at him. “What is your opinion?”

Edward looked at the hat a woman inside the shop held. “I believe both colors suit you, but I am fonder of blue.” When he turned his gaze back to her, she was still looking up at him. “It is the color of your eyes, and so the color will only accentuate them. However, it does not matter what color you wear.”

“Why is that?”

He chuckled. “Look at you. You are beautiful wearing brown burlap or wearing the finest fabrics from Paris.” For a moment, he allowed himself to think of her as his wife. They were shopping together, and he would buy her whatever she desired. However, that was the thinking of a fool, and he shook the thoughts from his head. “We should leave.”

Annabel nodded and turned away, but not before he caught the redness of her cheeks. Somehow, that only made her all the more alluring, and he could not wipe the smile from his lips as she slipped her arm through his.

As they continued their walk, they neared a fine carriage just as a couple alighted. Edward’s heart froze and sweat beaded his brow as the man turned their way.

“Wolcott?” the man, a Lord Grandly by name, asked in shock. “Is that you?” He gave Edward a wide grin. “By God, man, it has been a long time.”

“It has,” Edward replied, not believing his bad luck. “Ten years, I believe.” What were the chances he would encounter a man from his past this far from home? He had better luck at the gaming tables, and he lost more than he won there.

“This is my wife, Esther.” The woman bent her head at Edward but curled her lip when she looked at Annabel. “Is this one of your servants?”

Edward gritted his teeth and said the first thing that came to mind. “She is my wife, and I find your words an insult.”

Lord Grandly cackled a laugh. “An insult? You are mighty bold to say such things. A viscount who brings such shame down upon his family name has no right to judge the likes of me.” He turned to his wife. “You remember me telling you about Edward Wolcott, do you not, my dear? His foolishness cost me dearly.”

Edward forced calm into his voice. “I hardly believe the hundred pounds you sacrificed in our business dealings broke the bank.”

“I suppose you are correct,” Lord Grandly replied. “However, it is a testament to your foolishness that a great family name was ruined in a single generation.” He looked Edward up and down with a sneer. “Truly you must be disgusted with how your life turned out. Just look at you, dressing like a commoner, and a razor has not touched your face in weeks.”

Edward glared at the man. “I may be a bit disheveled, but at least I do not find enjoyment in gossiping as I suppose you have done about me to others in Portsmouth.”

Lord Grandly laughed. “I left not two months after you. My fortune has increased, and my wife wished for a larger home. Therefore, we purchased a lovely estate in Oxford and now spend much of our time traveling and seeing what this country has to offer.”

“Gregory,” the man’s wife said in a low hiss as she grasped his arm, “people are looking at us. I do not wish to be seen conversing with the likes of these people. Someone may take us up wrong.”

“Oh, let them look, my dear,” Lord Grandly said with a sneer. “For they are witnesses to the fact that we speak with a man who is nothing more than a failure.”

Edward considered striking the man, but then to his astonishment, Annabel spoke. “If failure is measured by the size of one’s coin purse, then you that is one thing. However, I measure success in a different way.”

“And how is that?” the man demanded. “Surely there is no other way to measure the worth of a man.”

“Hair,” she replied without the slightest indication that she was jesting. “A man with sparse hair must dread the idea of a brush. Yet, my Edward,” she reached up and tousled his hair, “has plenty and finds a brush welcoming. I imagine your wife must rub candle wax on your head, for I have never seen one that shines as much as yours.”

Lady Grandly gasped and clutched at her breast, and her husband looked nearly apoplectic.

Edward took hold of Annabel’s elbow. “We are leaving,” he said, and without another word, he led Annabel past the Grandlys and down the street.

“Remember, Wolcott,” Lord Grandly called after him, “you are a failure. The ton knows it, and you know it. Your life is a huge failure and nothing more.”

Edward gritted his teeth as he clutched the bags he carried at his side. He wished to tell the man he was wrong, but the words would not come. Deep down, he knew the truth it was spoken.

Well, soon the ransom money would come and he would no longer be a failure. In fact, he would be the viscount he once was, and he looked forward to that day more than ever.