A Woman Made for Pleasure (36 page)
Edward bowed again. Millie fought to remain composed as she watched him grin with malice.
Take the bait, you cutthroat. Waste your time searching Hyde Park. I know who you are and soon Chase will know as well
, Millie swore to herself as she walked him outside.
Take the bait, you cutthroat. Waste your time searching Hyde Park. I know who you are and soon Chase will know as well
, Millie swore to herself as she walked him outside.
“Good day, Sir Edward. Hope to be seeing you again soon.” Millie waved and smiled.
Tipping his hat, he said, “Good day, Lady Aldon.”
As soon as he disappeared from sight, Millie whirled around and rushed inside. She ran back to the room where she had had her hour-long inquisition. Aimee, Jennelle, and Mother Wentworth had grilled her incessantly about last night’s announcement and her future. Seeing them still in the room talking, she sighed in relief. “Thank God you all are still here,” she panted. “We have not a moment to lose. Charles is in danger.”
Chapter 16
“Run. Run like the wind for me,” Millie whispered into Hercules’s ear as she urged the stallion into another full gallop. She thanked God for the moonlight and hoped the horse’s footing remained sound, as they both were tiring rapidly. She would soon have to stop and rest him again.
Just a little farther
, she thought, praying she would reach Chase in time.
Just a little farther
, she thought, praying she would reach Chase in time.
An hour later, they stopped near a river bed. Millie slid off the big animal and led him to the river to drink. “That’s it. Good boy. We’ll rest here for a bit. We are almost there. One, maybe two more runs.”
Millie plopped down on the hard ground and leaned against an old oak. The sun was beginning to rise over a distant grassy knoll. She had been riding hard since the previous morning. In a few hours, she would be at the Wentworth country estate right off the coast between Wareham and Swanage.
She rubbed her eyes and retrieved some dry bread from her pockets to munch on. She would let Hercules rest for about another half hour. Today he was proving the rightness of his name. She was sure Chase had ridden straight to his country estate after dropping her off in yesterday’s dawning hours.
With the benefit of being able to switch horses, he could have made the trip in eight hours, placing her almost twenty-four hours behind him. Millie hadn’t had that option. Showing up at an inn to get a fresh horse and to let Hercules rest was out of the question. She was already taking a huge risk riding alone. She got up, stretched, and reached for the canteen swinging from her saddle.
Millie grimaced as she swallowed the bitter mixture of water and whatever contents were previously housed in the flagon. Tapping her finger on the container, she calculated how much farther she had to ride.
It had been dark, but Millie was sure she had passed Shaftesbury. The town was the only hilltop settlement in Dorset. Built several hundred feet above the sea, it was hard to miss, even in the dark. That placed her a little more than twenty miles from her true destination—the Wentworth cliffs.
An hour later she could delay no longer. She attempted to swallow another gulp of the disagreeable contents of her flagon and replaced the container on the saddle. She moved Hercules near an exposed root and mounted. She fingered his mane affectionately. “Depending upon the terrain, we have maybe two more hours, boy. Stay with me. I need you, Hercules. Chase needs you.”
And with a quick tap of her heels, they were off again.
“I must admit that I am disappointed you are not dead,” Chase said in a deadpan tone, seeing the glint of silver from the revolver pointed straight at him. He eyed the rider swinging down from his mount, which was an older mare obviously obtained along the way from London. The man’s face was covered, but it mattered little. Chase knew who he was.
Glittering blue eyes full of hatred glared out from underneath the mask. “I could say the same for you, Chaselton. However, tonight’s encounter shall go somewhat differently than the last time we met. It will be
you
who is fatally injured. But, unfortunately, your miraculous recovery will not be as likely as my own.”
you
who is fatally injured. But, unfortunately, your miraculous recovery will not be as likely as my own.”
“And how did you inexplicably heal from a death wound?” Chase asked as he casually leaned against a large cedar. He watched Marston unintentionally wave his pistol as he spoke.
“A superb acting job,” Marston replied as he advanced toward Chase, stopping just a few feet away. “I grabbed my stomach so you would believe I was gut shot, when all I received was a mere shoulder wound. And not even my shooting arm.”
“I admit you had me fooled,” sighed Chase. His demeanor conveyed annoyance at being inconvenienced. “But I wonder if your acting was to fool me or your leader? Your fight with me was clearly one you would lose, but running away was not an option. Your leader would have shot you for being a coward. So you took the only way out; you pretended to be dying. It is not a strategy I would have employed, but then again, I am not you.”
Marston knew Chase was taunting him, trying to excite his rage. It was the same tactic he had used to gain an advantage last night.
Not this time
, Marston swore to himself.
This time, it will be your wrath that stirs uncontrollably
. “I pity you, Chaselton. You are so determined to follow in the footsteps of your father. The Rebuilders were once great in their goals and actions. Now they are a dormant group of weak men unable to see the power available to them if they would just—”
Not this time
, Marston swore to himself.
This time, it will be your wrath that stirs uncontrollably
. “I pity you, Chaselton. You are so determined to follow in the footsteps of your father. The Rebuilders were once great in their goals and actions. Now they are a dormant group of weak men unable to see the power available to them if they would just—”
Chase yawned before interrupting. “The Rebuilders are interested only in protecting what they have, not empire building. England is still powerful and always will be. It does not need its nobles to employ traitorous ways and send thousands of good young men to their deaths.”
Marston’s eyes narrowed and he leveled his gun. “It is clear we will never agree. Now, tell me where the items are.”
Chase slowly straightened. “At some point in our encounters, I must have misled you, Marston. You mistake me for a fool, and I assure you that I am not. What possible benefit would I receive by telling you their location?”
A sick sneer invaded Marston’s face as he removed his mask with his free hand. “Because I am under the impression that Lady Mildred Aldon means something to you. I assure you she means nothing to me, but I will enjoy taking her nonetheless.”
Raw fury shot through Chase. He clenched his fingers once and released the pressure. Smiling, Chase replied, “I give you warning, Marston. Lady Aldon is not easily deceived. She will most likely kill you; that is,
if
you leave here alive.”
if
you leave here alive.”
Marston’s hand shook with rage. “Tell me, damn you. Tell me where those items . . .”
Suddenly Marston’s vision was blocked as Chase threw his cloak over Marston’s head. Instinctively Marston pulled the trigger as he was wrenched around. Receiving a blow to his stomach, Marston shot again through the cloak before he was struck on the head and rendered unconscious.
Chase grabbed the man’s ankles and arms and tied them with Marston’s own clothing. Carefully Chase pivoted, moved to his horse, and retrieved some rawhide. He returned to Marston and expertly retied and secured the unresponsive man’s limbs to a tree.
Once finished, Chase looked at the wound beginning to throb painfully in his thigh. Using his last strip of leather, he bound the injury tightly to reduce the blood flow. He hobbled back to his horse and swung into the saddle.
The pain in his leg was increasing. There was no exit wound. Chase knew the bullet was still lodged in his thigh. Unless removed, he had only a few hours to find and retrieve the items before a fever set in.
Chase awoke to a throbbing headache. The air was damp, it was dark, and the ground beneath him was hard and rocky. He reached up and felt a horse blanket cushioning his head.
He could barely make out his surroundings, but he knew where he was. He was in one of the caves that littered the Wentworth cliffs. Lifting his head, Chase saw a small man hovered over a fire. The man turned, and Millie’s face came into focus.
“What the devil!” Chase shouted.
Millie’s expression instantly changed from one of concern to exasperation. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed, walking over to him with something in her hand. She set the cup down and helped him to a sitting position. “Here, drink this. It’s tea. I have some bread if you think you can eat. It’s stale, but passable.”
Chase took the tin cup. His amber eyes focused on the vision before him, but lost none of their displeasure. “Millie, what in God’s name are you doing here? And how did I get
in
here?”
in
here?”
“Why, I brought you here to hide, of course,” Millie said matter-of-factly. Retrieving a cup for herself, she sat down and began to sip its contents. “Hmm, this is good. The stuff I was swallowing on the way here was deplorable.” She looked at Chase and motioned for him to drink. “Whatever happened to the unexcitable Charles Wentworth I used to know? So indifferent to any emotions such as joy, grief, pleasure, or pain. He would never bellow as you have grown into the habit of doing.”
Chase continued to lock eyes with Millie. “He met you and has never been the same.”
Millie smiled at his reply. “How fortunate for you, then. Life is much more pleasurable when you experience it rather than watch it go by.”
Chase finally sipped the hot tea and partially relaxed. “Why is it that I have not changed you, as you have me, love?”
Millie moved beside him and stroked his brow. “Why . . . I guess I never realized you wanted someone dull and spiritless. Now that I know, I will see what I can do about turning into the woman of your dreams,” she said, smiling impishly.
Chase grasped her arm. He reached with his other hand and pulled her toward him with surprising strength. “Don’t you dare, Mildred Aldon. Don’t you dare change a thing,” he said, his voice barely above a soft whisper. And then he crushed her mouth roughly beneath his own. Millie’s soft cry of startled surprise was quickly muffled. Chase’s mouth was voracious, his tongue stroking, plunging, beseeching.
Millie groaned deeply. His mouth was like a warm drug on her lips. It soothed her, teased her, and then created a desire within her that only he could satisfy.
Chase could feel his body becoming tight and hard with arousal. His fingers moved slightly on her throat, pushing aside a loose curl of her brown hair. He released her lips and looked into her eyes. This mesmerizing beauty had the power to ignite the blood flowing through his veins.
With his lips almost touching hers, he said, “What I would give to have you in a soft bed right now.”
Millie was breathless and anxious and exhilarated all at the same time. She was desperate for sleep, but at the same time completely alive with sensations and needs. Needs that must be put aside, for even if they were in a soft bed, he would not be seeing to them. “Chase, you shouldn’t exert yourself right now. You lost a lot of blood before I found you.” She sat up and forced herself to back away from him.
For a long moment, Chase thought to argue, but finally acquiesced. “That explains the pounding sensation in my head.” Chase looked down to see his thigh cleaned and bandaged. “But who worked on my leg?” he asked as he watched a lock of Millie’s hair fall down her back as she searched for something near the fire. Chase clenched his fingers, fighting an almost overpowering need to see the entire mass of dark brown softness loose about her shoulders. His muscles tensed, and his abdomen tightened.
Millie returned and knelt beside him, offering him bread. Her hands were shaking. “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from getting shot again. I am not too sure which was worse, retrieving the ball from the wound or cleaning it with drink. Your reaction to both was rather intimidating. I’d like to never go through it again.”
Chase accepted the bread with a quizzical expression. He didn’t remember her doing either. “How did you know to do that? To cleanse the wound with spirits?” Chase knew it was a controversial practice among physicians. Some believed the same whiskey used to make elixirs and poultices could be just poured on the wound; others believed the liquid damaged the exposed tissue. Regardless, Chase had seen firsthand in the field that men who received such painful treatment were more likely to survive.
Millie shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. Remembering him cry out almost brought her to tears again. “Jennelle read it someplace,” she murmured, moving back toward the fire.
The flames illuminated her face and Chase could see the tension and stress in her features. “My God, Millie. How long have I been out?”
Millie wiped away a stray tear and stoked the fire. “Hercules and I found you late in the morning. That was more than twelve hours ago. If you are able, we will need to leave as soon as the sun rises.”
Chase calculated that Millie must have ridden Hercules all of yesterday and last night to catch up with him. “Millie, what happened when I left?” He saw her head snap up. “You are impetuous, but you would never risk Hercules by riding him all night unless something or someone drove you here.”
Millie lowered her eyes. She had been dreading this very conversation. “I was visited by someone you know, the morning you left. The man came to see me, and while he pretended to be looking for you, he asked about those.” She pointed at a small mound covered by a blanket.
Chase lifted the cover and spied a book and a chest. The woman was a miracle. She had not only saved him, but managed to safely retrieve the precious items without getting hurt. Something he had not been able to do.
Chase ignored the burning pain coursing through his thigh. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, no. He never realized I had discerned his identity. I hinted that you and the items were at Hyde Park and encouraged him to leave. You should lie back down.”
Ignoring her, his face took on an ominous expression. “Did he believe you?” His low tone spoke volumes.
Millie picked up a nearby stick and threw it on the fire. “I thought he did, but this morning, just after I passed Shaftesbury, I realized I was being followed. I doubled back a few times and lost him, but no doubt he will find Lord Marston in the morning and follow your trail as I did.”
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