Too Far to Whisper (31 page)

Nathaniel emitted a muffled yelp and abruptly sat up. When Rosalind spied the rage in his eyes, she held her breath. Too frozen with fear to move, she silently watched him draw back his hand. She clamped her eyes shut just as she felt the sting of his palm against her cheek.

“You taunting little whore!” he growled.

Rosalind’s eyes flew open as she pressed her hand to her cheek. He leaned close to her face and said in a voice so cold, it sent a chill down her spine. “You will learn not to defy me!” He grasped a handful of her blond curls and jerked her head up to within an inch of his face. “I am a Corwin!
No
woman denies me anything…do you understand?”

Rosalind managed to nod despite his fierce grip on her. Nathaniel released her and shoved her head back onto the pillow. She noticed a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, apparently from the bite she had delivered to his tongue. He used the back of his hand to wipe it.

“’Twould be to your advantage to relax and attempt to enjoy this,” he rasped, forcing her legs apart with his knees. He reached out to clamp both of her slender wrists in one hand and then held them pinned above her head.

Scream!
Scream for help!
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Nathaniel noticed her attempt. The anger in his eyes intensified, making him appear more terrifying, more sinister, than Satan himself. “All this time, I have been feeling guilty for hitting you when I found you lying in the forest next to your dead guide,” he fiercely whispered. “I meant only to leave a mark on you…to blame on the Indian so I could justify my reason for shooting him…in the back.” He leaned closer to her and added through gritted teeth, “But now you are making me wish I had bashed in your skull and left you to die with the savage!”

Ignoring Rosalind’s shocked gasp, he raged, “You women are all alike – whining, demanding sluts who believe they can make men do their bidding by flaunting themselves and teasing. Not one of you is better than the other – nay, not even you, my
sweet
Rosalind – and I was a damned fool to ever believe you were!”

Rosalind desperately tried to shut out his words. No longer was being raped her only fear. She feared for her life.

Nathaniel’s knees forced her aching legs even farther apart as he prepared to violate her. The action jolted her back to the present. She was powerless against Nathaniel’s strength, especially in his enraged state, and she knew it was useless to try to reason with him.

Scream!
she again willed herself, tearfully praying she would be able to find her voice before it was too late. She took a deep breath, then released it in a loud wail – a terrifying cry that shattered the stillness of the silent house.

Cursing, Nathaniel abruptly released her wrists so he could silence her in the way he knew best…by slamming his fist into her jaw. Rosalind’s head fell limp to one side.

Within seconds, the door flew open and the light of a lantern illuminated the chamber.

“Nathaniel!” Elias Corwin shouted, his eyes wide with horror as he gaped at his naked son, who still held his fist above Rosalind’s face. “What in God’s name is going on here!”

From the other doorway came a loud gasp. Elias snapped his head in that direction just as his wife crumpled to the floor in a swoon. His gaze traveled from his wife to Nathaniel, then back to his wife. His urge to beat some sense into his stupid, lecherous son suddenly became second in importance to his need to attend to his wife. Shouting for Matthew, Elias set down the lantern and hastened to aid Abigail.

“Are you happy, Nathaniel?” the magistrate cried, his round face scarlet, the veins on his forehead bulging. “See what you have done?” Dropping to his knees, he cradled Abigail in his arms.

Nathaniel was so stunned by all that was occurring, he moved not a muscle – not even to conceal his nudity – not even when his brother burst into the chamber.

“What the…?” Matthew, breathless from having ascended the stairs so rapidly, gasped.

“Go out and tell the guests, whom I am certain are awake and curious by now,” Elias ordered, “to return to their beds – that Rosalind has just suffered a bad nightmare.”

Matthew obeyed. Several minutes later, he returned to the chamber and closed the door behind him.

“Tend to the girl,” Elias ordered him. “I fear your animal of a brother has killed her.”

Matthew’s mouth fell open as he directed his gaze toward the bed where his naked brother still kneeled, as if frozen in the position. Matthew moved to take a closer look at Rosalind, who lay as still as death. A swollen, rapidly darkening bruise extended down the length of her jaw, and a red welt marked her pale cheek.

“Get off her!” Matthew snapped, grasping his brother by the arm and tugging him away from Rosalind. Defiantly, Nathaniel yanked his arm away and glared at him.

Matthew dug his fingernails into his brother’s shoulder. “Get off her,” he repeated in a voice that invited no argument, “or so help me, you will not live long enough to ever do this to another woman.” The two brothers locked angry gazes until reluctantly, Nathaniel finally moved backward to the foot of the bed, stood, and pulled up his breeches.

After tugging down Rosalind’s immodestly bunched-up nightdress, Matthew located a cloth near her basin, hastily wet it and pressed it to her forehead. He detected a faint moan when he touched her.

“You are fortunate,” he said to his brother, who had moved to sit on a stool in the corner. “She is alive.”

Nathaniel stared at his feet and did not respond.

“She is likely to go above me to the General Court and file charges against you,” Elias added, scowling. His hand gently stroked his wife’s hair. “Did you purposely set out to destroy our family’s good name? Dear Lord, Nathaniel, could you not wait one more day until your wedding? I am a magistrate!  I shall never be able to show my face again!”

Nathaniel remained silent, his eyes still downcast.

Matthew wet another cloth and handed it to his father, who immediately placed it on Abigail’s forehead. “How is she?” Matthew asked.

“Your mother merely swooned.” Elias’s eyes cut toward Nathaniel. “And with good reason.”

“Perhaps we should send for Doctor Tuthill,” Matthew said. “After all, Rosalind is still recovering from a head injury. Nathaniel may have caused her further damage.”

“Oh, and what explanation do you suggest we offer the good doctor when he spies the girl’s swelling and bruises?” Elias’s voice was heavy with disgust. “That she fell down the stairs…on her face? I am certain he will be able to tell that someone beat her.”

Sighing, Matthew removed the cloth from Rosalind’s forehead, dipped it into the water and replaced it. Again, she moaned. “Rosalind,” Matthew whispered, “can you hear me?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes and struggled to focus on Matthew’s face.

“Rosalind, are you all right?” he asked.

She tried to speak, but winced in pain. “Matthew?” she finally managed to whisper.

“Aye,” he responded, his relief obvious. “Do not try to move, just rest.”

Cautiously, Rosalind tested her jaw. Although it was stiff and sore, it seemed otherwise undamaged. As the fuzziness in her head began to clear, she remembered what had occurred just prior to the blackness. She sucked in her breath. “Nathaniel…did he…?”

“Nay,” Nathaniel’s expressionless voice came from the corner as he spoke for the first time. “I did not.”

“Only because I interrupted you,” Elias angrily interjected. “Your intent was sickeningly obvious when I entered this chamber!  I have managed to cover up the last time you did this to a woman, but you may have gone too far this time!”

Rosalind closed her eyes and gave a silent prayer of thanks. She had been fortunate to escape the ordeal with only a few bruises. Her plan had been foolish and dangerous, but nevertheless, it had worked. She now had the almighty Nathaniel Corwin exactly where she wanted him.

“Please, remove Nathaniel from my sight,” Rosalind said weakly, her jaw throbbing as she spoke. She opened her eyes and looked at Matthew. “I do not ever wish to see his face again.”

“You heard her,” Matthew said, narrowing his eyes at his brother. “Get out.”

Nathaniel hesitated. He looked at his mother, who was beginning to stir, and then lifted his gaze to his father, who turned away in disgust.

“Wait for me downstairs,” Elias said to him. “We need to talk.”

Remaining silent, Nathaniel stood, took a lingering look at Rosalind and slipped out the door.

“Matthew,” Elias said, “Help me get your mother back to bed.”

“Will you be all right?” Matthew asked Rosalind before he moved to assist his father.

She nodded and closed her eyes. Of a sudden, she felt very, very tired.

* * * * *

She could not breathe.

Rosalind’s eyes flew open as a hand, strong and warm, completely covered her mouth. The chamber still was dark, so she could not immediately see to whom the hand belonged. Frightened, she lashed out with her fists and legs, kicking at the air and wildly swinging her arms until she connected with what felt like a solid chest.

“Rosalind,” a husky male voice whispered, “do not fear.”

She recognized the voice and ceased her struggling. When she did, the hand lifted from her mouth. “Shadow!” she breathed.

Two familiar arms encircled her. She sat up and flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him. Her lips sought his for a lingering kiss.

Gathering her wits, Rosalind pulled away from him and breathlessly asked. “How did you come to be here? If the Corwins discover you, they will kill you!”

“I could not bear to be apart from you any longer,” he said. “I had to see you. And earlier, my sleep was disturbed by what I thought was a woman’s scream. I had to make certain you were all right. Fortunately, this house is not difficult to gain entry to.”

“I am fine,” she said, clinging to him again. “Especially now that you are here.”

“Did you go through with your plan?” he asked, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“Aye, and it worked fine,” she said. “There is just the matter of my father’s debt to settle come morning and then I shall be leaving here.”

Shadow lowered his head, intending to kiss her again. The clouds that had been blocking the moon began to disperse, allowing a shaft of light to illuminate the bed. He spied it then – a dark, ugly bruise on the side of Rosalind’s face. He traced its length with his fingertip, his eyes angrily narrowing.

“What happened to your face?”

Rosalind’s hand instinctively flew up to conceal the mark. “I-I…”

“Nathaniel?” His voice, his eyes, suddenly contained so much anger, Rosalind held her breath.

Slowly, she nodded.

“He is a dead man.”

Shadow already had reached the chamber door before Rosalind found her voice. “No!” she screamed, no longer caring who heard. “Please, Shadow, do not do this!”

Paying no mind to Rosalind’s cries, Shadow bolted down the stairs. During the time he had worked for the Corwins, he had come to know the house and in which chambers the family members slept. Enraged, he burst into the sleeping captain’s chamber. The shutters were open, allowing the moonlight to give Shadow a clear view of the room. Before Nathaniel even was able to open his eyes, the Indian dragged him from the bed and slammed him against the wall.

Nathaniel squinted at his attacker, struggling to focus on his face. When he did, he gasped, his eyes widening in shock.

“Surprised to see me alive?” Shadow’s hand tightened around his throat as he pressed him to the wall. “Perhaps I should have crept in and slit your throat as you slept. Is not that the way you would have done it?”

“You were a fool to return here!” Nathaniel rasped. “You will not leave here alive.”

Shadow’s knife replaced his hand against Nathaniel’s throat. “It will be worth it.”

“Drop the knife!” Elias’s voice boomed from the doorway.

Moving only his head, Shadow looked over his shoulder and found himself staring down the barrel of the magistrate’s musket.

Elias’s expression registered his stunned surprise when he recognized Shadow, but he swiftly recovered his composure. “Drop the knife,” he repeated.

Shadow allowed the blade to fall from his hand.

Furious, a visibly shaken Nathaniel moved away from the wall and rubbed his neck. “Shoot him, Father! For God’s sake, he just tried to kill me!  You are my witness!”

Elias shook his head. “I am no murderer, son. The Indian shall have his day in court…and then be hanged. I shall not deprive the people of Eastwell the pleasure of witnessing his execution.”

“Then allow me to!” Nathaniel leapt at his father and wrenched the musket from his grasp, then took aim at Shadow’s forehead. “This time, you damned savage, I shall see to it that you remain dead!” He drew back the hammer.

“No!” A woman’s shout abruptly halted Nathaniel. He turned to see Rosalind making her way through the group of guests whose curiosity had lured them to doorway of Nathaniel’s chamber. When she reached Shadow, she threw her arms around him and clung to him.

“Rosalind!” Nathaniel cried, lowering the musket. “What in God’s name are you doing? Move, at once!”

Shadow attempted to pull Rosalind’s arms from his neck, but she hung on to him with a strength he never imagined she possessed.

She turned defiant, tear-filled eyes toward Nathaniel. “If your intent is to kill Shadow, then I beg you, kill me also…for without him, I do not wish to live!”

A chorus of shocked gasps echoed from the doorway as Nathaniel’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “You are distraught! You know not of what you speak! Return to your chamber, at once!”

Rosalind released her grip on Shadow and took several steps toward Nathaniel. “I know
exactly
what I am saying!  Shadow is guilty of naught! He did not kill Jonathan…I did!” Her statement incited a second round of gasps and murmurs.

“Rosalind, do not do this,” Shadow warned. “There is no need. Please, say no more.”

“Jonathan’s death was not intentional, I assure you,” she continued, ignoring Shadow. “The man was intoxicated and attempted to force himself upon me. I had little choice other than to defend myself.” She turned to look at Elias, then added, “And Shadow did not take me hostage. I helped him to escape because I knew he was innocent. I went with him of my own free will!”

“You are insane!” Nathaniel shouted. “For what purpose would you utter such falsehoods?”

“I am perfectly sane!” she shot back. “The only insane thing I have done of late is allow you to blackmail me into marrying you! ‘Tis Shadow I love!  He may be naught but a savage in your eyes, but I assure you, dear Captain, he is more civilized than you could ever be!” Her eyes filled with hatred. “Unlike you, he has never smashed my head with a rock nor beaten me for denying him pleasure!”

Elias glanced at Nathaniel, whose face clearly displayed his guilt. The magistrate released a long breath and looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength. He then looked back at Rosalind. “You spoke of blackmail?”

“Aye,” she said. “Nathaniel informed me of the large debt my father owed to you upon his death, and he threatened to take away all of my family’s property as payment for it…if I did not wed him.”

Elias’s head snapped in Nathaniel’s direction. “There is no such debt!” he said. “Andrew Chandler owed me no money! Why would you invent such a story?”

Nathaniel stared at the floor and remained silent.

Never had Rosalind felt so much rage. No debt? Nathaniel had been lying to her all along and had put her through hell for naught? So strong was her urge to grasp the musket and use it on him, she had to clench her fists and take several deep breaths to calm herself ere she did something she feared would send her straight to the gallows.

“How do I know you now are speaking the truth about the Indian?” Elias asked Rosalind. “In your deposition, you swore he took you at knifepoint after he murdered Jonathan. It could very well be you are speaking of his innocence now because he has threatened you in some way.”

“I speak the truth,” Rosalind said. “I gave a false deposition because I feared Nathaniel would make good on his threats to my family if he knew I had gone with Shadow of my own free will.”

“’Tis against the law to falsify a deposition,” Elias said, frowning at her, “and to aid a prisoner. I could bring you up on charges.”

“Fine,” Shadow calmly interrupted. “And seeing you are suddenly so determined to uphold the law, may I suggest that you charge your own son with assault?” He narrowed his eyes at Nathaniel. “Or is attempting to rape a woman not considered a breach of the law if you are a Corwin?”

“Why are we standing here listening to this heathen?” Nathaniel exploded, visibly distressed by the turn in which the conversation was taking. “I did not even know he could
speak
ere tonight! He is evil! Inhuman! Is not the fact he has risen from the grave proof enough?” He once again aimed the musket at Shadow, his fingers twitching nervously on the barrel. “Step aside, Rosalind!”

“Do as he says, Rosalind,” Shadow ordered. “His battle is with me, not you.”

“There would
be
no battle if it were not for me,” Rosalind asserted, stubbornly maintaining her stance. “If you are so eager to shoot someone, Nathaniel, then you are welcome to take aim at me. After all, I am naught but a murderer!”

“Stop it!” Nathaniel demanded. “Why do you insist upon protecting this savage? For God’s sake, Rosalind, speak the truth!”

“She
is
speaking the truth,” Abigail’s voice calmly stated from behind him. Both Elias and Nathaniel turned to stare at the woman as she slowly came forward. “Shadow is innocent of the crimes of which you have accused him,” she said.

“Good Lord, woman!” Elias said. “What are you babbling about?”

“When Rosalind was recovering from her injuries,” Abigail explained, avoiding Rosalind’s bewildered gaze, “I overheard a conversation she had with her brother in her chamber. She told Ben, in some detail, how Jonathan had come to die, and how the Indian had gone to great lengths to protect her…and our family…from scandal.” Hesitantly, she turned to look at Rosalind. “She also confessed to her brother that she and the Indian had fallen in love.”

Elias’s expression was one of outraged disbelief. “Why have you never spoken of this before, Abigail?”

“Shadow was dead...or believed to be,” she said. “What purpose would it have served to reveal the truth then? Furthermore, the truth might have hampered my efforts to see Nathaniel and Rosalind wed. I truly believed Nathaniel needed her…just as much as I needed her.” Her eyes pleaded for understanding as she looked at Rosalind. “Forgive me, child. I knew the pain you were suffering over the death of your beloved Shadow, yet I hastened the wedding plans for my own selfish reasons, caring naught about your feelings.”

“I do not understand.” Elias looked directly at Shadow. “My men reported they had delivered your body to Adam Stoddard, to be returned to your people. For what purpose would they lie to me?”

“Oh, indeed a body was returned,” Shadow said tersely. “But it was not mine, it was my cousin’s.” His steely gaze settled on Nathaniel. “I suppose it is not difficult to mistake one ‘savage’ for another if you look only at his back.”

Nathaniel’s eyes flashed, but he remained silent.

Abigail turned to her husband. “So, pray tell, what do you intend to do now?”

Elias released a long, exasperated breath. He looked at his wife, who stared unblinkingly at him, and then at Rosalind, whose pale, bruised face was filled with such innocent hope, he had to look away. Several long moments passed before he finally spoke. “In light of all I have just heard,” he said, rubbing his chin, “I see no reason to hold the Indian.” He turned to look at Shadow. “But heed my advice and leave here posthaste…ere I change my mind.”

Nathaniel’s head snapped in his father’s direction. “You cannot allow him to go free!” he protested. “He tried to kill me!  You yourself witnessed it!” Defiantly, he lifted the musket and took aim at Shadow.

“I shall take that,” Elias calmly stated, as if he were speaking to a small child. He clamped his hand over the barrel of the weapon and jerked it from Nathaniel. “Now do as I say, Shadow, and be on your way.”

“Gather your things, Rosalind,” Shadow instructed her, his eyes still fastened on Nathaniel. “You are coming with me.”

Without hesitation, Rosalind obeyed, brushing past Elias, Abigail and Nathaniel.

“You lying whore!” Nathaniel lashed out at her back as she disappeared through the crowded doorway. “You worthless, conniving little bitch!  Mark my words, you will pay for doing this to me, even if I have to rot in hell for it!”

The flame of anger that had been steadily burning within Shadow for weeks, suddenly exploded into a roaring inferno. He lunged at Nathaniel, knocking him to the floor, then roughly grasped a handful of his hair and jerked his head up. Nathaniel caught a frightening glimpse of the murderous look in Shadow’s eyes before the Indian’s fist slammed into his face.

“Now you know how Rosalind felt when you did the same to her tonight!” Shadow raged.  He stood and walked out of the chamber.

* * * * *

Carrying a sack of her belongings, Rosalind swiftly descended the stairs. Heavy silence hung over the Corwins’ house as the guests who were gathered in the sitting room parted to allow her to make her way to the front door, where Shadow stood waiting for her. When she reached him, he took the sack from her, then slipped a protective arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

Rosalind turned to face the Corwins’ guests – her wedding guests. “Please believe that I am truly sorry for all that occurred here this eve,” she said.

Her apology was met with closed expressions and continued silence.

Heaving a sigh, Rosalind grasped Shadow’s arm and turned to leave.

“Godspeed, child,” Abigail’s voice broke the silence. She walked toward Rosalind and embraced her. “I shall never forget you or all you have done for me. Be happy, Rosalind. That is all I wish.”