Chapter 35
Sebastian felt his blood run cold as he read the letter.
His hands started to shake. His legs started to tremble.
The foyer started to spin, and he very nearly collapsed to his knees as if the roof was caving in on him.
The only thing that kept him from doing so was the anger that erupted inside his belly like a fire sweeping through a dead forest and setting the world ablaze.
Your Grace,
I have your wife. For now, she is unharmed. But that can quickly change if my demands are not met. Demands that you yourself are the cause of, make no mistake about it. I did not want things to go this far, but I can only be pushed so hard before I snap.
Enclosed is an address. You are to meet me there this evening at midnight. You are to come alone, because if I catch even a whiff of foul play, the worst will happen. Do not test me. Do not try me. I am through playing games, and I will not hesitate to do as I must.
There was no name. There was no return address. But Sebastian did not need one to know from whom the letter came.
He read it a second time, and then a third. On the fourth reading, he crumpled the letter in his hands and let it fall to the floor at his feet. Anger built like a silent storm. His body was shaking so violently that the ground beneath him threatened to crack.
It was all Sebastian could do not to throw his head back and roar his fury to the heavens.
He did no such thing. Only because he knew it would do him no good.
Propelled by a sudden rush of energy, he stormed out of the manor as if he meant to jump on his horse and ride for his wife. But once he stepped outside, he paused, stumbled, and realized quickly that he had no idea where he should go.
Next, he turned and started for his study, thinking to write a letter for Giles and the Bow Street Runners to meet him as soon as they could.
He was halfway up the stairs when he dissuaded himself of that notion. Mr. Ramsay had instructed that he meet him alone. And as Sebastian was quickly starting to learn, Mr. Ramsay was not a man to be taken lightly.
Guilt struck him next. It came heavy and unrelenting, forcing him to his knees on the stairs as if it might bury him.
This is all my fault. Everything. From forcing Helena to marry me, to falling for her, to lying to her, to dealing with Mr. Ramsay without telling her. If anything happens to her, it is on me.
So wretched and pitiful did Sebastian feel that he very nearly stayed where he was, on his knees, feeling like his soul was being ripped from his body. He pictured his wife, scared and alone, helpless and afraid, wondering why this had happened and why he wasn’t there with her.
He imagined what would happen if he failed. Not caring about himself, but Helena, her death on his hands. And why? Because he was too scared to tell her the truth? Because he was too stupid to see what he had done?
She was innocent in all of this, and he had put her in harm’s way.
He thought of the orphanage. Mr. Ramsay had not mentioned it, but he knew it would be a part of his scheme. Whatever the terms Mr. Ramsay would ask for, the orphanage would be involved, and the children’s lives would be ruined.
How could I let this happen? How could I be so stupid! They trusted me, Helena trusted me, and I failed them.
Crying about it would solve nothing. And it was that resolve that forced Sebastian to stand. He grabbed the banister and pulled himself to his feet, teeth gritted, jaw clenched, breathing fire because he needed it right now.
He had not lost yet, and for the sake of his wife and the children, he could not lose.
That was what he told himself, and that was how he forced himself to go on. If he met with Mr. Ramsay, it would be as good as admitting defeat.
Mr. Ramsay did not want to find a middle ground. He did not want to barter. He wanted to break Sebastian, and to submit to his demands would be to lose everything.
Again, Sebastian considered reaching out to Giles and the Bow Street Runners. Again, he dissuaded himself of that notion. If he wanted to save his wife, he needed to do so on his own. And he would do it.
Even if Helena hated him. Even if he lost everything. He would not rest until she was safe. It was all he could do.
So it was that Sebastian forced himself up the stairs one step at a time. Down the hall and to his study, where he pushed the door closed and fell into his seat. He took a few deep breaths, found a sense of calm, and then got to devising a new plan.
He was going to find his wife. He was going to save her. And most of all, he was going to make sure that Mr. Ramsay paid. Of that, he had no doubt.
Sebastian’s knees were starting to hurt. His thighs, too. And his back, the more he thought of it.
There was a branch poking him in the face. Leaves tussling his hair. And what he hoped to also be a branch poking him in the back. But he stayed perfectly still, refusing to allow himself to so much as breathe too heavily, in case he was heard.
It was just midnight, and Sebastian waited patiently for Mr. Ramsay to arrive. A careful glance toward the sky to check where the moon sat, slowly done because he could not afford to make a noise, and it was back to watching the road.
He arrived an hour ago. He did so to give himself plenty of time, and there was no chance that Mr. Ramsay would arrive before him.
The location of this meeting was a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but empty plains of land stretching in the darkness, not a soul in sight, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
Although that wasn’t entirely true, seeing as hiding was exactly what Sebastian was doing.
His horse was tethered behind a tree some distance back, out of sight and hidden by a copse of large trees that stood out on the flat plains. But Sebastian crouched nearer the crossroads, hiding himself among the hedges that lined the street so that he, too, was invisible to all who might pass by.
Even with the moon shining upon him, Sebastian knew that the only way he could be seen was if someone peered directly into the bushes.
Waiting was the hardest part. It gave Sebastian’s mind time to race and produce images of his wife and what she was going through. And when he tried to push those images away, he instead thought about everything he had done and how this was his fault.
No. You can’t allow yourself to go down that road. Not yet. Hopefully never, assuming this works.
He tried instead to think of what he would say when he rescued Helena. She was sure to be furious with him. She was sure to be distrustful. And if she never wanted to see him again, he would understand.
What mattered was her safety, and everything after that… Well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
As silent as the night was, as dead, Sebastian heard the approaching carriage long before he saw it. The rattle of the wheels on the dirt road. The creak of the wooden frame. And the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves.
His heart thudded loudly, and he tried to still it as he watched the carriage appear in the distance. A hulking mass of darkness, slowly moving to the crossroads. It stopped short of the intersection, and a second later, Mr. Ramsay climbed out.
It was too dark to see the man clearly, but it could only be him. And the effort it took Sebastian not to spring from the bushes and tackle him… It might have been the most difficult thing he had ever had to do.
But this wasn’t about attacking Mr. Ramsay. Sebastian’s eyes flicked to the carriage, wondering if Helena was inside.
No, he would not be nearly that stupid. Surely not.
Mr. Ramsay would likely suspect Sebastian of bringing support. If he had done so, he would be a fool for having brought Helena with him.
So far, the only evidence Sebastian possessed of Mr. Ramsay’s crimes was the single note. And it was not signed, thus impossible to link to the publisher. All of this was a shake-down, with the added threat to Helena’s safety to ensure that Sebastian didn’t do anything stupid.
So, he stayed put and watched, knowing that grabbing the little man now and beating him to within an inch of his life would solve nothing.
“Unbelievable,” he heard Mr. Ramsay curse as he started to pace. “This is… The nerve! Who does he think—” He cursed again and kicked at the ground.
Sebastian watched, noting how angry Mr. Ramsay was becoming. He saw clearly the fury overtaking him the longer he waited. Mr. Ramsay knew him well enough that he might have suspected Sebastian would abandon his wife to save face.
In that way, he does not know me nearly as well as he thinks.
“That’s it!” Mr. Ramsay cried and threw his hands up in the air. “If he thinks…”
He cursed again, turned on his heel, and stormed back to his carriage. He climbed in, slammed the door shut, and the carriage took off in the direction it had come.
And Sebastian, grinning to himself, rose from the bushes and hurried to where his horse was hidden.
So far, his plan had worked exactly as he had predicted. Hopefully, that would not change. Helena’s life depended on it.