Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Edward hoisted the axe above his head and brought it down with a loud smack on the fallen tree he had encountered in his search for proper firewood. He had been forced to walk past the creek to a small outcropping of trees in order to find something worthy, and now that he had chopped the log into smaller sections, he was worried about carrying such a load back to the cottage in the downpour.

When he had left the house, a man across the road was stabling two work horses, and Edward considered hiring the animals to transport the logs back to the cottage. He could chop and stack the wood outside the house, which would be easier all the way around. However, he had no desire to speak to those who resided in the surrounding cottages and therefore pushed the idea from his thoughts.

Rain continued to fall from the gray clouds, and although it was now only a steady mist, he was completely soaked and his shirt stuck to his body. He should have worn a coat, but he had chopped enough wood to know that he would have taken it off midway through his work, so why bother wearing it in the first place?

“The things you do for a pound,” he mumbled. The words did not sit well with him. He thought of Annabel’s willingness to help, and how that willingness had nearly burned down the cottage. The kiss she gave him had raised feelings buried for years, and for a moment, he had considered what it would be like to be married to the woman.

“You thought the same of Mary,” he said as he brought the axe down once more, pushing all his frustration into that strike.

‘But she is not Mary,’ a tiny voice inside argued.

Anger burned in him, and he added it to his work. Splinters flew and the axe head became lodged in the wood. Grunting, he wiggled the handle and freed the axe once more.

Annabel may not be Mary, but it made for a good excuse for what he had done. Had he not told the woman that she possessed a strength that needed to be used? Yet, what of his? Should he not accept that same advice for himself?

He returned to his work as his mind attempted to solve the riddle in which he found himself. There was no doubt that he had strong feelings for Annabel, and he had to admit that they appeared when he first encountered her at the party given by Lord Thrup. What began as admiration had quickly turned to fondness fueled by the guilt that plagued him for his part in this fiasco.

The question that remained was, what would he do now? Did he return her to her aunt and not collect a reward? If he did that, he would be back to having nothing. Yet, if she remained with him as planned, part of the deal had been that he would end her life. Either way, he would lose her, but at least the former kept her alive.

‘She is not yours to protect.’

The axe came down again.

‘No matter how much you care for her, she can never be yours.”

That realization was a hard nut to break. Even if she were safe, even if Annabel wished it, Lady Lambert would never allow him to see Annabel again. Could he blame her? Not at all. If the same had happened to a daughter of his, he would never allow the man who took her anywhere near her. In fact, he would kill the man without a second thought. He shivered, not only from the cold but from that fact.

He paused to wipe his brow, the cold rain cooling his heated skin. The truth of the matter was, once Annabel was returned to Scarlett Hall, this notion of fondness would disappear and he would be free once again. She would realize what a failure he was and reason would set in.

His anger returned. A failure he was and would remain. He put all that ire into the next hour of work. He would collect the ransom and return her to Scarlett Hall with a warning about her safety.

‘Adam will be quite unhappy that Annabel is left alive. ‘

Let him be! Edward thought. He would take his payment and begin investing, changing his name in order to keep the man from finding him once again. As long as he kept his hands clean, he could go unnoticed anywhere.

Then, perhaps one day, that good man Annabel adamantly believed resided inside him would emerge. The only problem was, would Edward recognize him?

***

Edward added the axe to the bundle of three long logs and made his way back to the cottage. The rain continued to mist around him, and with each step, he thought more about Annabel, his heart stirring. He did not love her, per se, for one did not find love in such a short amount of time. Nor under the current circumstances. To even consider such a feeling was ludicrous.

Perhaps the word for which he searched was ‘need’. He needed Annabel in his life, to give him hope and to brighten each day with her smile. He could imagine coming home from a long day’s work—such as today—and finding her there waiting for him. As his wife? The idea was intriguing.

No, the idea was foolish. He had no right to have such thoughts, not after what he had done. Yet, could he somehow rectify the situation to change the outcome? Not very likely.

Crossing a shallow section of the creek, his legs and back groaned from the exertion. Why had he not hired the neighbor to do this work for him? More than likely it was his stubbornness. He was never one to give into the dependency for others. Not anymore. Which was another reason Annabel could not remain in his life. It would mean he was giving into his need for someone else once again.

By the time he arrived at the gate to the back garden, he was soaked to the bone and worried he would never make it to the cottage with his burden. However, if he left it here, someone else would happen upon it and make use of his hard work. No, he would get this wood to the cottage one way or another. If he had to drag each log one at a time, then so be it.

He paused, believing he had heard a shout. Perhaps the couple in the next cottage over was arguing again. Shrugging, he untied the bundle and lifted one of the logs. Then it came again. A scream.

Fear overcame him, and dropping the log, he hurried through the gate and around to the front of the cottage, nearly slipping on the wet grass in his rush. A horse was tied to one of the trees beside the drive. Who had come calling?

However, it was what he saw at the door that infuriated him. A man Edward did not recognize had Annabel hoisted over his shoulder, and she was kicking and punching with all her might.

“Let me go, you lout!” she shouted. “I will strike you where you stand! Let me go!”

Edward had read books where one of the characters had become so angry he shook with rage, and although he had experienced ire often in his life, this was the first time he understood the deep significance of the phrase.

The man turned and saw Edward. “I’m taking her with me,” he growled, his eyes narrowing. “What kinda fool leaves his victim alone?”

“I suggest putting the woman down,” Edward said through a clenched jaw.

The man laughed and tossed Annabel to the ground, who cried out in pain. Her dress was torn, her hair mussed, and there was a redness on one of her cheeks in the shape of a hand.

“How dare you strike her!” Edward said, and he lunged forward, taking the man in the stomach with his shoulder and toppling him to the ground. With the man beneath him, Edward doubled up his fist and struck him across the face. Then again. And again. “You hurt her!” he shouted, grunting with each strike. “Now you will pay!” He landed a blow to the man’s nose and heard a resounding crack.

The man managed to push Edward off him.

“Now, Edward!” Annabel shouted. Was she egging him on? He would have laughed if he was not so angry. “Push him!”

The woman was on all fours behind the man, and Edward understood her intent immediately. Taking her cue, he struck the oaf in the stomach, and when the man took a step back, he tumbled over Annabel and onto the ground on his back.

Seizing the moment, Edward jumped on the man once more, this time grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“My name’s Cecil,” he managed to say, although his voice was choked. “I came to deliver a letter.”

Edward snorted. “And you meant to take her while you were here? What are you meaning to do with her?”

The man laughed. “Nothing I’m sure you haven’t done already.”

The idea of what this cur insinuated made Edward ill. “She is a lady!” He struck the man once more. “I will not have you speak of her in that manner.”

“All right! All right! I didn’t mean nothin’ by it! Maybe I was wrong about her and you!”

Edward raised his fist once again, but Annabel grasped his arm. “I am safe now. Let him go. He is no threat to either of us now.”

“He hurt you!” Edward said, not believing the woman would suggest he let the man live. “I cannot allow that to go unpunished.”

“He is a man who has made bad decisions in life,” she said, her voice as gentle as her touch. “If we are not to give him another chance, who will give us one when we need it?”

Letting out a deep breath, Edward rose, forcing Cecil to rise, as well. “You will leave here and never return. If I ever see you again, you know what will happen.”

With wide eyes, Cecil replied, “I understand. You won’t hear nothin’ from me again.”

Edward gave him a nod and released him. Cecil hurried to his horse and was soon galloping down the road. It was not until the man was out of sight that he turned to Annabel.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Edward pulled Annabel into his arms. “You were hurt and I was not here to protect you. I am sorry.”

She returned the embrace. “I am fine now. He struck me once, but I fought him. I used the strength about which you told me rather than accepting defeat.” She spoke with a pride he had never heard from her before today.

He loosened his grip but did not release her as she rested her head on his chest. “You fought him?” he asked in amusement.

Annabel looked up at him, her blue eyes pulling at his heart. “I did. At first, it was my fist but then I used a cushion followed by a book. Each is a formidable weapon in fighting, but he was so strong.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and Edward felt a tightening in his chest. “I am proud of you,” he whispered as he brushed back a strand of wet hair. “You did well.”

“It was because of you,” she said. “The man who believes in me and protects me. I knew in my heart you would return to save me.”

He leaned forward, and her eyes began to close. Before he could kiss her, however, he pulled away. What was he doing? He was her kidnapper not some suitor come to rescue her! She was a means to restore his former life and should be nothing more.

“Let us go inside,” he said.

A look of confusion crossed Annabel’s face, but she nodded and took his hand in hers. His heart pounded against his ribcage as they entered the cottage as one.