One True Love (31 page)

He spoke in riddles which vexed her all the more. The conversation was at an end as far as she was concerned, and he should be on his way away from Rosehill Manor. However, the rain did not help matters since he would probably expect to stay until the weather blew over. This would not do at all.

"What are you talking about?" Cassie clung to her cup, and sipped her tea for the lack of anything better to do with her hands.

"I should have insisted we continue our trip to Gretna Green. I only wanted to please you, dear Cassandra." Lord Winnington continued, "I thought I would try to work things out with my uncle one more time, and if he still refused, well then, I would simply have to wait until he cocked up his toes."

"Sir, at the time, the situation was impossible. We cannot continue to hash out history, Lord Winnington. What is done is done. I am quite content now. I suggest you find yourself a young miss and marry her. It is the only thing left to do."

"No, it is not. I have found another way for us to be together." His smile did not reach his eyes.

Cassie trembled. Something was not right. Her skin crawled with a sense of foreboding. "It is not possible, Lord Winnington."

"Anything is possible if you set your mind to it. You were promised to me Cassandra, and I shall have you." He walked over and stood in front of her, which forced her to look up into his face.

She did not care for the turn of this conversation, or his complete lack of regard for her married state. She would never betray her vows before God and family. He must be daft. She wondered how she missed this side of him before, but in all honesty, how well did she really know him?

He courted her for weeks before offering for her, then he traveled between her small village and London for months. His visits lasted a few hours, but grew further apart over the months. Eventually, Lord Winnington stopped coming all together, and their communication was reduced to letters. When her father received a new vicarage, and the family moved, he wrote he would not be able to visit her there. She did not see him again until he came to take her to Gretna Green.

"That is enough! I will not be your mistress, Lord Winnington."

He laughed. "No, I do not want a mistress. I already have one of those. Of course, I had to break it off now that I am leaving the country..." Winnington's voice trailed off and left Cassie cold.

Humid air squeezed at her lungs. Fear sped up her heartbeat. His words drummed in her head like the raindrops upon the roof. A silent storm brewed inside while a raging storm blew outside. Something terrible was about to happen.

***

Pelting cold rain pierced William's face, and whipped his body, but he pushed on. The lack of visibility forced him to slow down. He could not risk the life of his horse, or an unforeseen accident, which might prevent him from reaching London on time.

On time for what? The lack of information disturbed William, and scratched at the back of his consciousness. Why would his family send such an elusive missive? The new footman failed to know anything at all. He claimed to have been given the missive and told to ride like the devil to deliver it.

If something happened to Mary, he would have sensed it. Nothing reached him except the odd feeling this mission was all wrong, but his twin sister often behaved recklessly, and put herself in unnecessary danger. He imagined a fall from a horse, or a tree. He envisioned her lying on the ground, broken and pale, with the life drained from her, but he shook the vision away because it did not bear thinking.

He dared race to London, to push Mirabelle as fast as possible, but the mud and muck, along with the senseless pouring of rain, slowed him to a near crawl. He was suddenly glad he had not allowed Cassie time to dress and accompany him. In her condition, she did not need to be out in this weather.

William pushed on, and prayed as he followed the muddy London road.

***

Winnington reached down and yanked Cassie up by her arms, then pressed her against him. She screamed as his mouth crashed down on hers, and drowned out the sound. Struggling to free herself, she stomped on his foot. He ignored it.

She tried to pull free of his grasp, but his hands held her like manacles. He broke the kiss and pushed her down on the couch. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Anger and fear twisted her stomach into knots as she yelled, "Why did you do that?"

"It pains me to know you have been in another man's bed," he sneered.

"Lord William is not another man. He is my
husband
." She clasped her trembling hands until her knuckles turned white.

"Yes, well, we shall rectify that mistake." He paced in front of her, with his hands clasped behind his back. "Once we are in America, we can change our identities. No one will ever know."

"What?"
She watched his movements twitch, and noticed the shine in his eyes.
Good heavens, he was mad.
"You cannot be serious?"

"Do not worry your pretty little head over it, my dear. I will take care of everything. If only this incessant rain will stop." He stopped and turned towards her. "We will have to leave now, before Lord William returns. Although I imagine he is still plodding his way to London in this horrid weather."

"How do you know he is on his way to London? And what do you mean we will have to leave? What madness is this?" She started towards the door, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her back to him.

"Stop acting like a ninny, Cassandra. I am rescuing you from your sham of a marriage. I am afraid you will not have time to pack, but no matter, I will buy you everything you need once we reach our destination."

This had gone far enough. Her entire body shook with outrage. "I will not go anywhere with you. I want you to leave
now
!" She tried to free herself from his painful grasp, but he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around her legs. He held her to him, and placed his head on her stomach.

"I will never let you go." Sobs tore from his throat and she swayed from the uncomfortable position he held her in. She was forced to grab onto to his shoulders to keep from falling to the floor. He cried like a baby and kept his grip.

"You must let me go," she pleaded.
This could not be happening.
He was like an out of control, willful child. To think, if she married him instead of Lord William, how her life might have been with this ridiculous man as her husband.

"Never. You are mine! Mine. You were promised to me and I shall have you."

He kissed her stomach through the fabric of her dress, and she shuddered with disgust. She pushed on his shoulders, and tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but the movement caused her to lose her balance.

Cassie landed on the floor with a thud. Winnington fell on top of her, and before she could react, his mouth found her breast. She pushed at his head. "Get off of me!"

Instead, he yanked her bodice down and released her bare breast. His mouth descended at the same time his hand covered her mouth, and muffled her scream. He sucked her breast as she pounded his shoulders and back. Her legs were trapped by his body, which prevented her from kicking him.

He lifted his head and grinned. "We do not have time for this Cassandra. I will pleasure you to your heart's desire later." He replaced her bodice, but did not remove his hand. "I suspect you might scream, but I am warning you, if you do, I will not wait to take you. I will have you here, on the floor. It is not exactly romantic, but I will do what I must to keep my wife in line."

He removed his hand and she screamed as he crashed his hand back over her mouth. His light blue eyes turned dark and his face became red with anger. He forced apart her legs with his body, and thrust his arousal between them.
Surely he did not intend to rape her?
If only one of the servants would come into the room, or William would return.

"Are you going to scream?"

She shook her head no, so he removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth. Sobs tore from her throat as he forced his tongue into her mouth. She choked on the uninvited invasion. His lower region rubbed against her intimately while his hand squeezed her breast. She fought him, not expecting him to let up, and fearing the worse, when he suddenly jumped up.

He stood over her as she lay on the floor. Shocked, she stared up at him. Cassie started to push herself up when her eye caught a glint of metal.

He pointed a pistol at her. "I hoped it would not come to this, but it appears your time with Lord William has brainwashed your mind. Now slowly get up and do not make any sudden moves."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered as she returned to her feet. She recalled him bragging once about his ability to hit his target with pistols. She could not risk the baby growing inside of her.

Think.
Perhaps she could use reason talk her way out of this madness. Except he was not a reasonable man. He was a madman! How had she misjudged him so?

"I love you. I have loved you since the first moment we met. I planned my life with you, but you lost patience, and married someone else. Why did you do that to me?" His hand shook and she flinched.

Cassie was speechless, but oddly enough, she noticed the lull in the rain, and the incredible silence and stillness. The afternoon sun hid behind dark clouds, but allowed just enough light to escape and encase the drawing room in murky shadows.

She grasped for time to make him see reason. "I did not think of the consequences to my family, to Jocelyn. I brought disgrace upon their heads. You must understand that."

He sighed then pointed the pistol to the floor. She let out a pent up breath.

"Why did I listen to you? If we would have continued on to Gretna Green, you would be Lady Winnington right now. My uncle was right. Women do not know what is good for them. We men have to protect you from yourselves." He raised the pistol at her again. "Go."

"Please, Lord Winnington. You cannot mean to go through with this," she pleaded.

"Enough!" He came closer and placed the gun at her back. "Move."

They walked out the door and down the stairs. Margie entered through a side door into the foyer. "Oh, my lady. Is there something I can get for you?"

"I am taking Lady William on a ride." He pressed the pistol into her back.

"In this weather?" Alarm crossed Margie's face.

"Lord Winnington is going to help with Lady Anne's home for orphans. We are having a committee meeting today, rain or shine." Cassie's voice quivered. She prayed Margie would realize something was wrong and send for the magistrate. "When Lord William returns, remind him about the meeting. I do believe he forgot."

"We should hurry while the rain has stopped." A slight push forced her forward. Cassie silently mouthed the word help.

"Of course, my lady. Do be careful." Margie curtsied and ran from the room. She was Cassie's only hope.

Sprinkles of rain touched Cassie's face as Lord Winnington rushed her out the door to his phaeton. The wind whipped her dress, and she wished she had her cloak. The fashionable phaeton did not provide much protection from the elements. She shivered as Winnington set the horses in motion.

Chapter Eighteen

The rain lulled and allowed William a chance to gallop his horse down the London road. For the past quarter hour, he worked on the bothersome puzzle within his mind. The handwriting on the missive troubled him. He did not recognize it, nor did he look at it again to study it. He had not thought to bring it with him, but instead, he gave it to Cassie.

The note was short and to the point. Unsigned. Perhaps it was written by a servant, but he could not imagine any member of his family leaving such a task to a member of their staff. No, one of his family must have written it. What if none of the family members were home?

Nothing about the message made sense. The footman said he was new to the staff. If so, then why would he be entrusted with such an important message? Yet, the man wore the Camberley livery.

He saw a coach and four in the distance heading his way. He slowed down then moved over to the side to allow the travelers to pass. As the coach neared, he noticed the Camberley crest, and his heart dropped to his stomach as a sick sense clawed his insides. He moved into the middle of the road and waved at the coachman to heed.