Chapter 20
Twenty
Clara hadn’t realized that she had fallen asleep. How she had managed such a thing with how she was feeling was beyond her. I am just so exhausted, I suppose. Emotionally spent to a point of breaking…
When she came to, she was still in the carriage which had brought her from Ravencourt Castle, but it was slowing down, which she guessed was what had woken her.
Curious, she shuffled to the window and peeled back the curtains, unsurprised to find that night had fallen, and unsurprised to realize that she had no idea where she was.
Perhaps I should have asked where I was being taken…
That she hadn’t thought about doing so spoke mostly to how utterly shattered she had been feeling.
Lord Wolfe had given her Alaric’s message to leave.
That had rocked her beyond words, and the next hour was spent drifting through the castle as she had her things packed into their trunks and then strapped to the roof of the carriage.
There, Lord Wolfe had been waiting, a somber smile on her face.
“Do not fear, Your Grace,” he had assured her as he’d helped her into the carriage. “You will be well taken care of.”
According to their prior arrangement, she was being taken to a home owned by Lord Wolfe, where she would wait until they arranged for more permanent lodgings.
If she’d had her wits about her, she might have asked if she could visit Alicia, maybe even stay with her until such things were ready.
But again… her wits had left her, she had withdrawn inside herself as she fought against the depression which threatened to consume her.
It was all she could do not to burst into tears, although why she bothered was beyond her.
Now, having arrived finally, she peered through the dark, a sense of unease creeping up inside of her.
“Where on earth…
The dull glow of the moon overhead was the only source of light.
It gave way to the surrounding forest, grown thick and dense every which way she peered.
Among them, through the leering darkness of the trees, she could just make out what looked to be a cabin.
But it was a ramshackle structure, surely not fit for a duchess… or for anybody, by the looks of things.
The carriage door opened suddenly, and she jumped to hear it.
“Your Grace, we are here.” The driver was a young man with a thick accent that was from somewhere in the north.
“And where exactly is here?” she asked him.
He hesitated. “We are here,” was the only answer she received.
Biting into her lip, nerves rising, she climbed from the carriage, at which point the driver led her to the cabin. He walked in first, and soon a burst of light grew from within. She stayed back, her heart racing, certain now that something was wrong.
“Is Lord Wolfe on his way?” she asked the driver.
“Tomorrow,” he told her.
“Oh…” She frowned. “Are you certain this is the correct address? It is just…” She looked over his shoulder. “Not what I expected.”
He did not answer, choosing to unpack the carriage and get about carrying her things inside.
The inside of the cabin was as dilapidated as the outside.
A single room, the furniture old and falling apart, little decor save for the stuffed animal heads mounted on the walls.
And the smell… something has died here recently.
There was a burning hearth, however, and she went to it, feeling her body shake as she tried to find warmth.
Soon after, the driver announced that he was finished and would be leaving her.
“Wait…” She went after him. “What of food? Drink? Are you certain that Lord Wolfe –”
“Will be here tomorrow,” he answered without pause. Next, he was on the carriage and whipping the horses into a canter, disappearing into the darkness as if he never was.
Something was wrong.
The more she thought of it, too, the more she realized how much of a fool she had been.
She cast her mind back to the last time she had spoken to Alaric, when they had shared that kiss before he’d fled the room.
It was a brief kiss, but it had told her exactly what she’d known for some time: that he cared for her, as she did him.
She refused to believe now that Alaric would send her away under such harsh circumstances.
Yes, there was clearly a darkness to him that he was fighting against. And yes, he was desperate to keep his distance from her.
But this was beyond anything she might think him capable of, and she wondered now if she should have refused Lord Wolfe and insisted on waiting for Alaric to return.
Even if he had still sent me away, to have spoken to him, to have made him see me before he turned his back… it might have made all the difference.
With nothing to do and nobody to speak with, Clara curled herself up on the thin couch before the fire, holding her knees to her chest, considering the situation at hand, while thinking back to Alaric…
Was what Lord Wolfe had told her true? Could Alaric really have killed his wife? She could not believe it. There had to be more to that story. Just as there had to be more to all of this! How could Alaric do this to her? How could he be so cruel?
She did not want to believe it… and indeed, she tried to fight back that nagging voice that threatened to break her, but as the night wore on and as the flames in the hearth softened, she began to wonder if she had been wrong all this time. The simplest explanation, so often the right one.
That Alaric had never cared for her.
That he was glad to see her go.
That she would never speak to or see him again, left alone to always wonder what might have been…
It was as these thoughts took her that Clara finally allowed herself to weep.
It did not make her feel better. If anything, it made her feel worse.
Yet at this point, what else was there for her to do but cry for the love she had nearly had, the love she had lost, and the love she would never feel again?
As promised, Lord Wolfe arrived the following day.
Clara had fallen asleep on the single couch, only coming to when she heard the sound of his horse approaching in the distance. Her body ached, and her stomach growled with hunger, but she jumped to her feet and rushed from the cabin just as he was pulling up by its door.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Lord Wolfe said when he saw her. “Excellent.”
“Lord Wolfe!” Clara stormed toward the horse, her anger taking over in ways it so rarely did. “What is the meaning of this!”
He frowned from atop the horse. “Whatever do you mean, Your Grace?”
“You promised –”
“To remove you from Ravencourt Castle,” he spoke over her.
“Which, as you will agree, I have done. Just as you are sure to remember that I made no promises concerning how I meant to do so.” His smile was wicked and cruel.
“Frankly, you should be glad you found me in a good mood yesterday. Things could have been a lot worse.”
Her stomach dropped as the realization set in. I was right! About all of this! How could I have been so foolish!
“When His Grace hears of this –”
“I will stop you there,” he spoke over her and then dismounted clumsily, his portliness making a production out of the simple movement. “I did not lie to you concerning Alaric’s desires to see you free from his home. That, I assure you, was his intent.”
“I do not believe you.”
He shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, it makes no difference.
” He turned his back on her and unstrapped a bag from the horse’s mount.
“But I would ask that you keep things civil, Your Grace…” He indicated the bag.
“That is, if I leave here, you wish me to leave you some food. Unless you are a skilled hunter? Somehow, I doubt it.”
Her lip curled at him. “What is going on! I demand to be told.”
His smile was as cruel as it was amused. “I am sure you do…” Next, he stepped around her and walked toward the cabin.
“Lord Wolfe!” she chased after him. “What is the meaning of this!”
She found him in the cabin, looking about. “Yes, this will suit for now.”
“For now?” She swallowed her hope. “So, this is not… I am not supposed to stay here?”
“Heavens no,” Lord Wolfe gasped. “This is merely a means to an end. An out-of-the-way location that no curious explorers or nosy game wardens will happen upon. At least until I figure out what to do with you.”
“You mean to send me somewhere else?” She stepped backward a pace, not at all liking the way he was behaving. “A home to live in? As you said?”
Lord Wolfe sighed and dropped the bag on the ground with a thunk. “I am going to be honest with you, Your Grace, for it is just my way…” He shook his head as if saddened, “It seems that you have presented me with a problem of sorts. One I had hoped to avoid but see now I must deal with.”
“A… a problem?” She took a step back.
“Alaric was never supposed to wed again.” His voice turned cold, even colder than the look in his eyes.
“After his last marriage and the disaster that came from it…” He scoffed and shook his head.
“You have no idea the lengths I had to go to so I could clean that mess up. Which I had, by the way. Oh, sure, Alaric has a reputation that will never leave him. But it worked because it kept him isolated and out of people’s thoughts. ”
“His wife…” Clara’s heart began to race. “What… is what you told me true? I have a right to know.”
He ignored the question. “And then you came along…” His lip curled into a sneer.
“A problem, as I saw it. Oh, I had hoped that maybe Alaric had changed and that the two of you could live happily ever after. Truly, that would have worked best for everyone. But Alaric is a mercurial character, and when he came to me, I realized that if your marriage was allowed to continue unimpeded, it would end badly. Perhaps not right away. Perhaps not for some years. But the worst would happen, be sure of that! And I refuse to sit about and simply watch as all I have worked toward becomes undone.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand…” Her heart was racing, anxiety growing because there was a look in the lord’s eyes which terrified her.
“Alaric thinks that you are being sent away somewhere that he cannot get to you,” he continued, his eyes flashing at her.
“He thinks that you will be taken care of. Alas, to do so would be a risk, as I cannot allow you to change your mind – or him, for that matter! Best that you be forgotten, that Alaric returns to his old ways, and that the ton forgets as they are so good at doing.”
Again, Clara took a step back. “What… what are you saying?”
“You are a problem,” he said. “One I am yet to decide how to deal with.” He rubbed his fat chin with his stubby fingers as he studied her. “Likely, I will be forced to do the worst…” He let that thought trail, and she gasped as she understood now what he was implying. “But we are not there yet.”
“No!” she cried. “Please, you do not have to – I will leave,” she begged. “Do as you promise and send me away. I promise I will do whatever you ask.”
“I wish that I could,” he sighed as if with regret. “Alas, I have my family’s name to worry about. You understand.”
“My… my father –”
“Cares not a whit for you and you know it.” He chuckled and then walked toward her.
She gasped and brought her arms to her chest in protection, only for him to walk around her and head for the door.
“For now, Your Grace, you are stuck here. And you best pray that I devise another means to be rid of you.”
“P – please!” She turned and reached for him, not daring to get too close. “Do not… You do not have to do this! I beg you!”
“I am sure you do.”
“Alaric!” she cried next, chasing him from the cabin. “If he finds out, he will… he will…” She could not even finish the threat as she knew it had no teeth.
Lord Wolfe chuckled as he climbed atop his horse.
“Do not think Alaric will save you. As I said, I was not lying when I told you he wished for me to take you from Ravencourt Castle. Silly him, he did not stop to hammer out the how of it. But if I know Alaric, as I do, he will have already forgotten you. Such is his way.”
“No…”
Clara felt a stabbing pain through her insides like a knife was driving itself through her.
She grabbed her stomach and hunched over, nearly vomiting, her entire body shaking as if it might implode.
She fell to her knees, weak and disoriented, able to do nothing as Lord Wolfe kicked his feet into his mount and took off, gone within seconds.
Clara could not decide what was worse. That she had been right and that Alaric did indeed want nothing to do with her, or that Lord Wolfe, if pushed to it, would make it so that she might never see the light of day again. Or worse…
She supposed it did not matter which was worse. Both presented a fate that saw her end. Alaric did not love her. Lord Wolfe had taken her prisoner. And to tie it all into a bow, nice and neat, there was nothing that she could do.
Trapped once again, and this time there would be no escape.