Nine Steps to Sara (40 page)

“And here I thought I was the only nervous one.”  It was nice to see she wasn’t the only one who was all thumbs sometimes. 

“You must be joking.  I’m at least as nervous as you are; it’s not every day the woman I love tells me she loves me back.  That puts a lot of pressure on a chap.” 

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.”  Sara tipped back the rest of her glass, setting it out of the way before leaning in to kiss him boldly.  There was nothing to hold her back anymore, nothing to stop them from finding happiness in each other’s arms and she found herself eager to taste it. 

Will’s kiss was uncharacteristically hesitant at first, as though he was afraid of rushing her after her earlier reticence, but then he kissed her back hungrily, hands sliding over silk as he pulled her close.  Sara pressed her body up against his wantonly, seeking more skin on skin contact.  She slid her hands up under his t-shirt to splay over his bare flesh, hard as steel and soft as sin.  Already she felt hot, almost feverish as desire overwhelmed her senses, sweeping away any doubts or fears.  The last fleeting thought to go through her mind was that the champagne had quite a kick and she should try it more often.  No longer able to think clearly, Sara surrendered to the sea of sensation and emotion with total abandon.  There was only the feel of his hands on her body and the taste of his hunger on her lips.

And she wanted more.

Tugging at his offending t-shirt, she inched it up, unwilling to part from his questing lips long enough to pull it completely free until it bunched up around his armpits and she leaned back to get it over with. 

“Wait… I can’t do this,” Will broke the kiss, putting at least a foot of space between them as he edged away.

Still drunk with pleasure, it took Sara a moment to understand that he wasn’t kissing her anymore.  “Did I do something wrong?”  Her mind muddled, she struggled to comprehend what she’d done to make him pull away. 

“It’s late, Sara, I think you should go to bed,” he said sternly, but she scooted closer, not ready to let him get away with such a ridiculous argument. 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, but you’re not cooperating!”

“Sara, I think we should wait.”

“What for?  I love you, you love me…” a purple dinosaur started to sing in the back of her mind, drawing a loopy smile to her face.  Jack had watched that show religiously for years until she’d memorized all of the saccharine sweet tunes backwards and forwards. 
She was
in the middle of
something, wasn’t she?
  “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” she smiled lazily, fingers sliding up his chest. 
Such a nice chest it was too… he must work out all the time.
  Funny, she’d never seen him work out before.  Maybe it was all the hours spent lifting things in the garden.  “How many planters can you curl?” she asked absently.

“What?  Sara, you’re not making any sense.  I think you should…”

“I don’t want to think… I can’t think… but I think I like it that way.”  Her thoughts were all jumbled, what was she talking about again?  “Kiss me again, love,” she scooted closer to him, lips brushing against his neck.

“Sara please…”

“Don’t beg, Will, I’ll do whatever you like.  Anything you like,” her fingers brushed lower to the hard ridge of flesh straining against his jeans.  “It’s really okay, to be really… really…” what was she saying?  The room dipped and swayed as a wave of dizziness washed over her.  “I’m really… super…”  Suddenly it seemed like a good idea to rest her head for a moment, and she nuzzled against his chest, stifling a yawn.  “Really, really…”

“Rest now, Sara,” Will’s arms enfolded around her like a cocoon and Sara smiled as she burrowed into his warmth.  “It will all be over soon, I promise.”

Too tired to reply, her eyes slid shut and Sara knew no more.

Sara’s shoulders itched.

With a swallow, her mouth tasted like a wet, wool blanket; scratchy and dank. 
Was it morning already?
  Cracking open her eyes, she could see she was on the couch, but Will was nowhere in sight.  Mrs. Poole stood by the corner windows, looking out into the night sky, her features pinched and drawn. 

“What’s going on?” Sara murmured, her tongue thick and heavy. 

“Lie still now, Doctor’s been sent for to make sure you’re alright, my Lady,” she replied without turning. 

“Did I fall and hit my head or something?”  It felt like it was stuffed with cotton.  Mrs. Poole made no reply and Sara pushed herself a little higher in her seat.  “Where’s Will?  What’s happening?  Why do I feel so… funky?”  Her limbs felt heavy like she was moving under water and the lull of slipping back to sleep was strong.  “Mrs. P?” Sara prompted when she still ignored her.

“I… Doctor will be here soon,” she replied, obviously thinking better of whatever she’d been about to say. 

The housekeeper wouldn’t look at her. 

In a dim corner of her mind Sara knew that was a bad sign, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.  It was so much easier to float. 

“Where is she, in here?”

The gruff voice started Sara awake again, and she peered up with a scowl to see Marwick staring down at her with his bushy eyebrows.  Shrinking away from his examination, she scratched absently at her arms which itched like anything.  Reaching far up the loose sleeves, it occurred to Sara that she didn’t remember owning anything like the thick, black robe she wore.  In fact, she couldn’t remember putting it on either.  Where was the pretty silk peignoir she’d worn for Will? 

“What’s going on, am I okay?” Sara asked, her voice a little slurred as she fought against the dizziness.  Ignoring her, Marwick lifted her face by the chin, turning it first one way and then the other before shining a bright penlight into her eyes.  “Hey, quit it,” Sara tried to slap the light away, but he would not be moved. 

“She’s fine,” he declared finally, releasing her from his grasp and straightening.  “I’ll give her something to make sure she stays biddable through it all then I’ll attend to the boy.”

The boy. 

That was enough to pierce the fog permeating Sara’s brain.  “What’s wrong with Jack?  Where is he?”

“You’re sure she’ll remember none of this?  We’re sunk if she recalls even a jot.”  Another voice spoke from behind and Sara turned to see who it was, surprised to
find
Thomas in her bedroom.

“Remember what?  What are you doing?”
she demanded, heart beating faster when Marwick produced a hypodermic needle. 

“She’ll remember none of it, I’ll see to that,” Marwick continued to ignore her completely, filling the syringe from a small glass vial full of bright red liquid.  “Hold her.”

Sara tried to roll off the sofa, but Thomas was there, his grip surprisingly strong; or was she just weak?  “There now, my Lady.  Stay calm, it’ll all be over before you know it,” he soothed with a genial smile, all the more chilling for the iron hold he had on her arms.

“Let go of me!  What are you… ow!” Sara didn’t have much strength to struggle, and the bite of the needle made her freeze, afraid it might break off in her neck if she moved too suddenly.  Heart beating madly, it pushed the poison through her bloodstream like a runaway locomotive, leaching what little remained of her strength and spreading lassitude over her limbs.  “Please…” she sobbed, falling back weakly against the couch when they released her.  “Somebody tell me what’s going on.”

“We’re getting you ready for the big event; don’t you like your party dress?” Thomas smiled, stepping back to make room for Marwick, who shoved a cold stethoscope inside the opening in her robe and Sara noted absently that the pretty peach nightgown set was still on, albeit under the scratchy robe. 

“Where’s Jack?  Why are you doing this?”  Sara felt like she was repeating herself, but neither of them seemed inclined to answer. 

“Good, good,” Marwick muttered absently, moving the stethoscope to another position.  “She’s fine.  I’ll go see to the boy now, keep her awake; it won’t do to have her
out cold
.”

With great effort, Sara tried again, speaking as slowly and distinctly as she could manage.  “What’s he doing to Jack?”

“Preparing him.  Don’t worry, my Lady, he’ll feel no pain, I can promise you that.”

“What are you planning to do to him?” It was impossible to hide the tremble of fear in her voice.

“Oh, it’s not what I’m going to do with him you have to be worried about,” he grinned.

“You’re crazy.”

“Tired is what I am.  Tired of waiting all these years for your bloody family to do the right thing.  We’ll not leave it to chance anymore.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sara struggled to make sense of his words, feeling like she was missing half of the conversation.

“Of course not.  I’ve given my whole life to this family and now it’s finally time you reciprocated.” 

Sara gasped at that.  He wanted her to give up her life? 

“Oh no, my Lady, I can see you think we mean to hurt you.  That’s not it at all, in fact, nothing could be further from the truth,” he patted her knee in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. 
“
We need you to produce the next heir after we sacrifice the boy.  Only then can
the line continue and will the N
ine prosper.”

The
N
ine…
they wanted to sacrifice Jack?
  It was insane, and Sara fought a wave of nausea as she shook her head.  “You can’t…”

“I beg to differ, we can and we will.  We’ve been doing it for generations, ever since
Sir Archibald Darling
first made the blood oath.  Our families are linked with yours, like it or not, and our fortunes are tied to yours.  Every head of the Darling family knew this, and each was willing to sacrifice their first born to the cause.  All except for that toff Sir Stephen who couldn’t even manage a by-blow.  Turned his back on us when Lowesley
confronted
him about it.  Well, as soon as we found you, we made him regret it.
”
 

Lowesley knew about it?  “What did you do to
Sir Stephen
?”

“Officially ruled as an accident, though the local story is it was the ghost that d
id
him in.  Thank you for removing that colossal pain in our collective arse, by the way.  It’s become ever so much easier to maneuver things into place without dodging that blasted specter all the time.”

“Gemma…” 

“Yes, you thought she was the enemy, didn’t you?  She was useful in her own way, took the blame on many the occasion, like when we wanted to send that friend of yours packing.  A little push and she was on her way, cursing the dead the whole time,” he chuckled.  “No chance the authorities would ever believe a story like that, and what could they do at any rate?”   

“You pushed Joanie?”
Sara felt like the world was spinning out of control, her brain still not tracking everything said right away.  “But why?” 

“I was happy to send that
slag
packing, her and that scavenger that came sniffing around.

“You killed Cole
.
”
Oh
,
poor Gemma, what had she done!
 

“I couldn’t very well have him turning this place into a luxury resort, now could I? 
Darling
Park
belongs to the
N
ine just as much as it does to you; we’ll protect it down to the last stone.”

Sara licked her lips, desperately searching for the right words to get through to him.  “You can have it, all of
it;
just let Jack and me go.”