Secrets of the Heart (36 page)

“Let’s get out of here.” Donavan turned back toward the windows.

Madeline grabbed his hand. “This may be our only chance to rescue them.”

Donavan turned back to her. “But where are they? This place is huge.”

“You stay here, Donavan. I’ll explore.”

Donavan shook his head. “No. If anyone goes, I will. ’Tis too dangerous.”

“You worry like an old woman, Donavan,” Madeline said, keeping her voice low. “I must find my mother!”

“You won’t be able to help your mother if ye get caught, now, will ye?”

“Agreed. I will wait here, but come right back. Don’t go far, and tell me what you find,” she insisted.

“I will.” Donavan disappeared into the hallway.

The moment Donavan left, she became frightened for him.
What if he becomes lost or captured?
she thought. Tentatively she moved down the hallway.

A black-gloved hand appeared in front of her face. A handkerchief smothered her nose and mouth. She stumbled backward and fear gripped her heart.

“Blast it!” From a nearby hillside Devlin watched two shapes run from the stable toward the house. The rain nearly obscured his view, but he was close enough to know it was Madeline and Donavan.

The fools! What do they think they’re doing? I told Donavan to protect her, and he’s leading her into the lion’s den.

Dressed in black from head to toe, Devlin blended in well with the storm. He had been circling around the estate for over an hour, watching for movement within and trying to make a plan of attack. Now Madeline had forced him into action.

He led his horse into an old shed, not wanting to get too close to the house. He studied the surrounding area to be certain he was alone. The fierceness of the storm covered normal sound, and it would be unwise to consider himself safe. Vale could be anywhere.

A tree limb broke behind him. He turned and came face-to-face with Amos Sullivan… and a loaded pistol. Wrapped in a black cloak, his hat streaming rain, the man presented a formidable figure.

“So you’re still alive,” Sullivan said. “More’s the pity. Now toss me your gun, and carefully,” he ordered. “I don’t trust desperate men.”

Devlin raised his hands. “I’m hardly desperate, Sullivan. Seems to me that you’re the one that’s been running scared. Where are you going to hide?”

“None of your business. Now lay down your gun. You’ve wasted enough of my time.”

Devlin removed his gun from his coat and laid it on the ground. “And why did you enter the asylum to stab me? Why take that risk? I thought you were afraid of smallpox.”

“I had the vaccine,” Sullivan said, scooping up the gun. “’Twas a convenient excuse to stay as far away from the lunatics as possible during the epidemic.” He waved his pistol. “Start walking. I’ve had enough of this rain, and as I said, I don’t trust desperate men.”

“And I told you, Sullivan,” Devlin growled. “I’m not the one who’s desperate.”

“You will be.”

A clap of thunder echoed through the black sky in ominous warning. Devlin prayed for wisdom. The real storm was about to break loose.

Madeline’s head ached as though someone had taken a mallet to it. Her eyelids—so heavy. Suddenly she remembered the black glove, the acrid smell, the difficulty breathing. She felt her confinement.
He’s tied me to a chair. Well, I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. He must be close. Think, girl, think. God, what should I do?

“I know you’re awake. You can’t fool me, sweet Madeline.”

Vale’s voice forced her heart into her throat. She steeled herself for the battle to come and prayed that God would give her courage. Raising her head, she slowly opened her eyes to meet her captor’s.

“Vale.” She tested her bonds. They held firmly. “You coward.” Her head ached. “How dare you take my mother!”

“She’s my wife. I can do as I please.”

“Where is she? I want to see her now!”

“What’s this? You remain a she-cat? How disappointing, my dear.” He walked toward her, his black boots quiet on the wooden planks. “I assume you are not happy to see me.” He moved behind her. “I, on the other hand, am very happy to see you.” He combed through her dark wet tresses with his long fingers.

Madeline shuddered at his touch.
God, give me strength.

“What have you done with my mother and Agnes?” she demanded, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. “They’d better be unharmed, or you will pay dearly.”

“You are in no position to demand anything. Perhaps you should adjust your tone to something more respectful.” His fingers came around to cup her chin as he moved in front of her. He tilted her face up. “Mayhap I should have married you, instead.”

“You vulgar, good-for-nothing, evil, thieving—”

Vale stuffed a rag in her mouth, cutting off her torrent of venomous words. “You really must learn to use more appropriate language, my sweet.” He bent and whispered in her ear. “I must insist upon it.”

His foul breath wafted across her face, causing her to wrinkle her nose. He ran his finger down her cheek, a lingering, tormenting warning of what he was capable of doing.

Show no fear.
The words echoed in her brain, a reminder of her intent. Again she tested her bonds, hoping to find them weakened. They held tight.
Where had Donavan disappeared to?

“I must leave you for a while. I am expecting more company.” He patted her head as though she were a child of no significance and left her.

How could I have been so foolish?
As he headed down the hillside toward the gloomy estate, head down against the driving rain, Devlin mentally ticked off his options, but none seemed feasible. He couldn’t turn on the man out here without being shot. His mind raced ahead. “Where are you taking me?”

“To Vale, of course. He will pay a pretty penny to watch you tortured and shot.” Sullivan pushed Devlin ahead of him toward the stable, a half mile away.

An agonizing ten minutes later they arrived at the stable doors. “Open them,” Sullivan commanded.

Devlin pulled open the heavy wooden doors. As they entered, a cat jumped off a ledge and darted in front of them.

Seizing the opportunity, Devlin turned and lunged at Sullivan. They wrestled to the ground fighting for the gun. It exploded, the bullet barely missing Devlin’s face. He scrambled for the weapon. Sullivan gained his footing and tried to kick the pistol away.

“No, you don’t,” Devlin roared. He grabbed Sullivan’s foot. The man went sprawling to the ground. Devlin leveled the gun at Sullivan. “Don’t move,” he warned from where he knelt on the floor. He felt a warm trickle of blood soak through his shirt where his stitches had ripped open.

“Where are they?”

Sullivan went pale. “I don’t know.”

“I will give you to the count of three, and then I will pull the trigger. One. Two.”

A gunshot blast thundered through the stable, competing with the storm outside. Sullivan looked past Devlin with dead eyes, a hole through his head. He slumped forward.

“Three.” Vale concluded. “I should have done that a long time ago. You may drop the gun, Ravensmoore, and say your prayers. I will not fail.”

“So you’re finally doing your own dirty work, Vale.” Devlin seethed with anger. “Where is Madeline?”

“If you wish to see your sweet Madeline again, Ravensmoore, throw down the gun.”

Devlin weighed his options.

“I said, throw it away.”

Devlin gritted his teeth and laid the gun on the floor.

Vale picked it up and stood over him, studying the red stain spreading across Devlin’s shirt. “So Sullivan shot you. That should make things easier. I’ll just let you bleed to death. Then I’ll set my next plan in motion. But first, I must take care of a few details.”

“You are insane.”

“I disagree with your diagnosis, Doctor. All will work to my advantage. It always does. Now get down on the floor.”

Vale brought his heel down on Devlin’s back. “Is it this side? No? Then it must be this side.”

Devlin groaned his agony when the remaining stitches gave way and blood coursed down his back, soaking his shirt.

Vale sneered. “I win.”

Devlin blinked, trying to clear his vision. When he lifted his head, there seemed to be two of Vale. “You will not win. Never.”

“You’re dead already, Ravensmoore.” Vale stomped on his back again.

A jolt of excruciating pain burst through his skin. Devlin thought of Madeline at the mercy of this madman. And then all thought that loomed in his mind went black.

Madeline worked at the knots in the rope that tied her wrists. Sweat seeped through her clothes, and her fingers burned as she labored against the rope. A hand closed over hers.

“Shhh.” Donavan put a finger to his lips as if he didn’t see the gag in Madeline’s mouth.

Madeline couldn’t believe her eyes.
Thank You, Lord!
Then frustration simmered while Donavan worked on her bonds, failing to remove the gag. As soon as the ropes fell, Madeline yanked out the gag and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Donavan.” She breathed hard. “Did you find my mother?”

“Not yet. I’ve been keeping watch over you,” Donavan whispered. “Vale will come to the house soon. I must get you out of here.” He jerked her toward the door.

“Wait!” She looked out the window and froze. “God protect us. Vale is coming.”