Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Dyer’s voice hardened. “I will decide what is proper and what isn’t. And this is not a conversation I will have with you here. You are going upstairs. You will be locked in a room.”
Elizabeth had been moved to Dyer’s home at his insistence and her mother’s exultation, claiming it was for her daughter’s own good.
When Dyer shifted toward her, Elizabeth stepped back. “You have no power over me. We are not married yet. I’m leaving.”
He followed her retreat and grabbed her arm, swung her around. “I do have the power. Your mother and father have given their blessing. My men surround the building. You cannot escape.”
Elizabeth flinched. Did his aggressive demeanor imply future violence? Shaking, she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. “I will find a way to escape.”
His eyes held the penetrating cold of a serpent. “My beautiful Elizabeth. I’ll give you anything you want.” He snatched papers off a table and presented them to her. “This is my will. I’ve signed it. Everything I possess will be yours.”
Her voice broke, seething with frustration and rebellion. “I want nothing from you.” She’d never marry the oil baron. She shivered from his touch. He was ancient enough to be her grandfather. How could her father have sold her for a railroad? Dyer’s fingers pinched her arm.
His voice hardening, he said, “You will go upstairs and put on your wedding gown. I will simply tell everyone you could not wait for the ceremony and wished to be wed right away. They will assume you are an excited bride energized by the prospect of her wedding night and ready to please her husband.”
She gasped, her face reddening with the attending guards who stood stoically on the sides of the room and immune to the tableau. Hired to be blind and deaf, none of them would come to her aid. How many years had she thought of this man as her friend? He smoothed the skin up and down her arm.
“I will marry Zachary Rourke. Never will I marry a monster. He will come. And when he does come, and he will, there will be nothing in the world to save you.” Elizabeth yanked her arm from his hold, but he held her drawn between his legs. His breath was sulfuric. Her stomach roiled.
In a brief instant, his eyes took on a hunted look. Elizabeth played on it. “You are afraid of Zachary Rourke. You think you have power over him because you have me. You think it makes you stronger.”
He pressed his fingers into her flesh, digging them into her muscles. When she squirmed, he laughed. “You can think what you wish. Mr. Rourke, I’m sorry to say, will meet with unfortunate circumstances today.”
The very air stood still, simmering with tension. “What do you mean?”
His glacial eyes glared at her, speckled with brown and grays as if something alive had gotten caught and fossilized in the irises. “The prescription is his internment in an early grave. Buried dead or alive does not matter to me.”
She felt the blood drain from her face but refused to show weakness. Somehow, she had to keep up this dangerous game, this dance of words, faking a bravado she did not have. “You wouldn’t dare.”
From her pocket, she pulled the small gun Zachary had apprehended from Havemeyer the night the sugar baron had accosted her. Hands shaking, she pointed the gun at Dyer’s chest. “I’ll shoot you. Release me, now.”
“You are a surprise, Elizabeth. You have fight in you and are not to be underestimated. I look forward to our wedding night.”
From behind, a guard reached around her and jerked the weapon from her hands. Her heart sank.
“Andrew,” he summoned one of his guards. “Send my men to Rourke’s factory. Make sure to take care of the cowboy.”
She put her hands up. “No-no! I’ll do anything you want.”
“I want a willing bride.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes then opened them. The nightmare of her future shifted before her. Years of living in constant fear. “I will be cooperative. But please, do not hurt Zachary.” She hated the pleading in her voice.
“That’s the way I want to hear you, begging, imploring.
That lovely mouth of yours—I look forward to our nights together.
Every inch of me sunk deep between your luscious thighs.
I can’t wait to teach you the extraordinary arts.
Did I mention I have a special room? It’s soundproof.
No one will hear your screams. Did I mention the array of whips I possess?
I’ve waited so long to lay you on your front, tied spreadeagled.
Oh, I will be careful. Your beatings will never give an outward hint of the lashes. ”
Elizabeth forced down the irrational fear swelling in her throat. Dyer’s eyes bulged, violent and wild. He posed a figure that even imagination could not begin to fathom, a fury from the bowels of hell. Already he was aroused thinking of what he’d do to her.
He crooked his finger to Elizabeth with the tolerance of a god for the mortal to whom he condescended. He rubbed his mustache against her ear, breathing words, familiar words, piercing her memory of long ago. Raspy whispered utterances. She grabbed her throat.
Her brain hammered. Piecing events. Fragments of memory exploded. The terrible headache that impelled her to her room. Shadows. Darkness. Someone behind her. Pushed to the bed. Clawing, pushing away her attacker. Voiceless screams. A smothering cloth over her nose and mouth. Her skirts lifted.
“Elizabeth, you will have only me.”
Her knees buckled. “You!”
“Yes, it was me. You finally figured it out. You were lovely at eighteen. Untouched. I needed you. I’ve always desired you, Elizabeth. I relished taking your innocence. With you at my side, I can control the world.”
She slapped his face. “You defiled me and let me face the humiliation.”
“You mean our daughter. Clever of you hiding her in the orphanage.”
Her blood turned to ice. Of course, he’d known about Caroline.
He took a step back, adjusted his trousers. “I’m in a good mood. I’ll allow your indiscretion,” he said, adjusting his cuff. “I had you before Rourke. But no more whoring, Elizabeth. The consequences might be insurmountable.”
Elizabeth’s nerves rattled up her spine. She didn’t want to entertain the penalties of his foul punishment.
“Hurry upstairs and get dressed, or I’ll have my men dress you. And one more thing, I have someone waiting for you. We don’t want anything to happen to our guest.”
On the third floor, one of the guards unlocked a door.
At the far end of the room, a swollen palpitating tangle of light frayed from a tiny round dormer window into hot darkness.
Pigeons cooed on the roof above. Elizabeth searched the room.
A bed, desk, vanity, Queen Anne’s chairs, a large dresser topped with a massive mirror, nothing remarkable. A servant’s room.
She tried the door. Locked. Elizabeth slumped to the floor. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. The only arms wrapped around her were her own, but even they weren’t enough to still her shivers of misery. It hurt so much to breathe that she almost wished she could stop.
She wanted the pain, she craved it. She wanted to remember, to feel. Life wasn’t about wealth or privilege, but knowing the beauty of friendship, of family, the pain and joy of love—of Zachary’s and Caroline’s love.
Would there ever be a time to feel the warmth and pleasure in his powerful arms, the unexpected gentle caress of his hands as he made love to her, to see his handsome face, or hear him laugh or tease her? Or to bear his child?
Her breath came in short, hurtful gasps. Would he ever forgive her? Would he understand Dyer’s threats against her child and to him that forced her into a marriage she never wanted?
A small sound trickled from the shadows. Framed in a triangle of light stepped her daughter. “Caroline!” Elizabeth cried, rising to her knees and throwing her arms wide. “Come here, darling.”
The fragrance of soap, shampoo, and little girl rolled in sunshine and flowers assailed Elizabeth as she hugged and hugged her daughter. Nothing could be more joyful than holding her slender frame. She was the sun and moon to Elizabeth’s world.
Elizabeth’s gut kicked. Dyer had imprisoned her daughter to keep Elizabeth in line. He had known all those years that Caroline was his daughter. He had done nothing for her. She held Caroline back for a moment, struggling to keep the desperation out of her voice. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Miss Spencer.”
“Caroline, there is a very bad man holding us against our will. Do not fear. I’ll think of something.” A knock came at the door. Elizabeth rose.
A maid with her arms full of Elizabeth’s elaborate lace wedding gown entered.
“I’m to help you prepare for your big day.
” Emotionless, the woman flitted about Elizabeth like a silent butterfly, stringing silk ribbons through her satin slippers, draping the silk gown over her head, and then departed. No help from that quarter.
Caroline sat on the bed, her violet eyes, so much like Elizabeth’s own, large in her small face. “You look like a fairy princess.”
Elizabeth sat next to Caroline. “I must tell you something that I needed to tell you long ago.” No more was she going to hide the fact that she had a daughter.
All the years, anxiety and worry of hiding her treasure had come to an end.
She didn’t care about what her parents or society thought.
Elizabeth drew a deep breath. “I’m your mother. ”
“I know you are my mother,” Caroline said.
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “You knew?”
“Joseph and I figured it out a long time ago. We know where you live. We went out nights and watched you from the rooftop next door. You have a pretty blue bedroom.”
Elizabeth squeezed her daughter’s slight shoulders. The minx had watched her from the rooftop across the street? “What were you doing on a rooftop? Why it’s near four stories high. Didn’t anyone notice you were missing from the orphanage?”