Chapter Twenty-One

The footman helped Lady Serena descend the carriage. Her small trunk and Emma’s bag were unloaded and transferred to Lord LeBran’s coach. She waited in front of the portico as Emma joined her.

She whispered, “When the coach stops at a roadside inn, perhaps we will escape. Remember, I will say we need to use the necessary. He would not follow us there. We will run away. Be prepared.”

Henry came out with her betrothed, LeBran. The men shook hands. “I will see you in three weeks’ time at your fortress.”

He turned to his sister. “Have a safe trip and remember all I have told you.”

“Of course, Henry.” She had already forgotten her brother’s warning and she had no desire to recall it.

Henry spoke to Emma. “What has been done is for our family’s good. Do not let my sister’s defiant ways influence you. Do as you are told by Lord LeBran and all will be well.”

Emma curtsied. “Yes, Sir Henry.”

When the footman came, the three were escorted into the carriage, Lord LeBran at Serena’s side.

They had traveled for some time with no conversation. Serena turned in the seat, “My lord, how much farther is it?”

He looked at his watch. “By my reckoning, we have three more hours to Portsmouth.”

“Can you tell me, Lord LeBran does your fortress have a name?” she asked in a conciliatory tone. She could bend, but she must not break.

“My home’s name is called Forteresse de LeBran. I indicated to you last night that it is located on Portsea Island, near Southsea Castle. My French ancestors so named it in the fourteenth century.”

“Perhaps in the excitement, it slipped my mind. Is the climate cold? Are there storms?”

“The estate faces the sea, so we do have rain and winds. We do have cold weather.” LeBran showed no interest in pursuing a conversation.

Serena folded her hands in her lap and stared out the coach window.

After a while, LeBran spoke. “We are about two hours from the fortress. You will soon feel a difference in the climate.”

“My lord Leland, it has been a long time. My maid and I will need to stop to use the necessary. Is the stopping place soon?”

His monolithic voice droned on. “We will not stop until we reach the fortress. You both will have to contain yourselves.”

Serena’s face paled at the thought. If he was serious, their plan was thwarted before it started. She and Emma traded glances. An alternative plan had to be conceived—and soon.

LeBran chose to speak, “The front of the fortress faces the land with heavy fortified gates and parapets. The deep moat is not filled with water, but it has a covered glacis to protect the ditch from marauders. There is a counterscarp gallery on the outer edge, which allows defenders to fire at any attackers. It is accessed through a tunnel underneath called a caponnier. I could show it all to you if you have an interest.”

However, she did take note at some of the French words he used—caponnier and glacis. She recalled he also spoke about a counterscarp gallery.

“At the moment, I do not.”

He gave her a hard look. “You do seem to speak your mind without caution. That can be a fatal flaw in a woman. I warn you, I do not possess a conscience.”

“My brother spoke those very same words to me, and I can see what you both have in common. Neither of you have a conscience. I will conclude our conversation, take out my Bible and pray for guidance.”

And to ask that she would find a way to escape his clutches.

From her large reticule, Serena withdrew her personal Bible, opened to a page that displayed her birth date. If she were forced to marry this villain, the date of her death would be written there also—by someone.

LeBran grasped the book from her hands, and flipped the pages. When he found everything in order, he returned it to her.

Serena’s face contorted at his brutish action. She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. The beast in him demonstrated his inner evil. She pulled herself further away from the vile man.

“Some women have been known to hide knives in their Bibles.”

“You will find that I am not like other women. The Bible is for comfort, not stealth.”

His eyes were dark, like tombstones on a grave. They reminded her of her late husband.

“Do you go to church each week?”

“Yes.”

“My mother will approve. We have a protestant chapel in the fortress. You will not have to leave.” His crooked smile taunted.

“How convenient.”

Serena read for a while and after another hour started to feel the effects from the silent journey. She and Emma traded glances again, but neither spoke.

Lord LeBran went to touch her cloak and she pulled back. “I wished to assure that you would not be cold. There is no need to withdraw from me. I have no desire to touch such a flawed woman.”

“That comforts me.” This monster of a man would try anyone’s patience of which she had little—and limited hope.

The silence in the carriage and the cadence of the hoof beats afforded her the opportunity to think. She had to devise a way to escape the horrors of this man. The time had come for her to take charge of her life and be rid of controlling brothers, husbands and lovers. She was smart, resourceful, and wealthy. Serena would plan carefully.

She vowed that no one would hold her against her will. Serena needed to find a weapon and even though Emma sewed coins into their capes, they needed to escape her captor. She calmed her mind in order to find some way to thwart his plans.

Serena looked at the bleak countryside, closed her eyes, and envisioned Geoffrey. Her kind and handsome lover’s face gave her strength. She wanted him in her life forever and would find a way—somehow. She steepled her hands in silent prayer.

Lord LeBran noticed her motion and lidded eyes. “I would like to know what you pray about, Serena. If you pray for someone to come and release you from our betrothal, I’m afraid you pray in vain.” A twisted smile crossed his face. “After we are married, you might find a change in disposition is warranted. The consequences of insolence are not pleasant.”

Yanked out of her pleasant thoughts about Geoffrey, “I do believe you underestimate the power of prayer. However, mine are for God and the angels to redeem.”

She turned to face him, head held high, defiance in her words. It was then she saw the menacing look in his eyes and the bridled anger in his voice when he said, “You present a challenge to me, Serena.” His angry retort hardened the lines of his face. He fisted his gloved hands together, and crushed one of the buttons on his outer coat perhaps as a means of letting Serena know he could do the same with her.

Emma gasped, and then turned away.

“It would be best not to provoke me further.” A chill hung over his words. He reached for his cane and smacked the handle into his hands.

Serena became furious at her vulnerability to this man. Her father’s words came to mind. The willow would have to bend again.

She softened her tone. “Lord LeBran, if I upset you so, why do you pursue marriage with me?”

“You already know the answer to that. You are a means to an end. Nothing more signifies. I do warn you, though, not to anger me. I am not one to suffer arrogance by a woman.”

The willow bent again.

“I may appear arrogant to you, my lord. It is not a circumstance I seek. I do not wish to be married to any man. One husband was enough. It has nothing to do with you. My marriage was not a happy one. Please do not misunderstand.”

“You are a woman who needs to adapt to the culture of your inferiority. You are nothing more than a possession.”

She was no man’s possession.

“Possessions come and go, Lord LeBran. In my short experience, they are not always what they seem.”

“Possessions can be broken and discarded on a whim, Serena. Remember that.”

“I certainly will.” She bit her lip to keep from saying more. This man presented a danger. It was clear he didn’t like independent spirited women. Difficult as it might be, she would have to pretend acceptance of this marriage until she could plan an escape. One way or another, she would.

“It would be best if you curbed your tongue.”

“I will keep that in mind.” A cold knot formed in her stomach and surged through her. Serena dared not show fear.

“This conversation is over,” he commanded.

“As you wish, my lord.”