Chasing Eliza (30 page)

Eliza
wondered how she would survive when he had gone. Yes, she wanted
justice for her sister; she wanted her sister’s name cleared and
Scraggan to swing from the gallows as much as Peter. She just
didn’t want Edward to be the one who went after him. Not only
because of the risks involved to him personally, but on a purely
selfish level she wanted him by her side.

Edward
thought about the turmoil he had wrestled with in the bath back in
Huntingdon and knew that it definitely was possible to fall in love
with someone in just a few short days. He certainly didn’t believe
in love and first sight, despite sitting in that dingy tavern
feeling an inexplicable pull towards the woman now sitting at his
side. Despite his protestations against the institute of marriage,
he simply couldn’t consider any other outcome than the one he had
with Eliza. She was by far the most precious thing to have happened
to him in a very long time, if ever and he would draw his last
breath before letter her go.

If he
did have to leave her, it would only be to bring her future
security and happiness. He could only hope that she loved him
enough to want to spend her days by his side, or at least care
enough about him that she was willing to try. But he wanted her to
make the decision on their future free of grief and
fear.

“
Are you alright?” He asked, several long minutes
later.

Eliza
nodded slowly, easing away from his warmth to sit
upright.

Reluctantly he let her go. What he really wanted was to carry
her upstairs and spend the rest of the day holding her, protecting
her from the cruel harshness that awaited them tomorrow.

“
You had better go and meet the man from the War Office.” She
murmured, rising to stand and brush out her skirts absently. “I
think I shall go and try to read a book or something. Would your
brother mind if I borrowed one from the library?”

“
Of course not, help yourself. If you want tea or something,
just ring the bell. The maids will be more than happy to wait on
you.” Edward guided her out of the study and escorted her to the
library door, drawing her to a halt in the doorway.

In the
distance he could hear Dominic’s raised voice as he shouted at
their new guest and wondered what had happened now to raise his ire
in such a way.

“
Hurry.” Eliza murmured, pushing Edward towards the
fracas.

“
I’ll see you later.” Edward dropped a kiss on her startled
lips before striding down the corridor.

Eliza
watched him go only turning to enter the library when he had
disappeared from sight. The room was simply huge and lined with a
vast array of shelving practically crammed with books of all shapes
and sizes. They were everywhere, even stacked haphazardly on the
floor, waiting to be put onto the already crammed
shelving.

“
Sorry for the mess.” Eliza jumped as Isobel’s appeared at her
elbow.

“
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” Eliza stammered feeling
uncomfortable intruding on the woman’s own quiet time.

“
You didn’t, I was just leaving. Feel free to help yourself.”
She murmured, nodding towards the vast array of books on display.
“We recently brought some books over from uncle Bertram’s house
before it burnt down, and have yet to find a home for them. I hope
Edward will have some when he moves into his own home. We have far
too many for us to ever read. If there is anything you need, just
ring the bell. The maids are just waiting to serve you.” With a
friendly smile of understanding, Isobel patted Eliza’s arm
companionably and left.

Eliza
took several moments to wander slowly around the large room. The
books covered just about every topic known to man.

Shaking
her head at the magnitude of the task of simply choosing a book,
she picked one off the haphazardly pile stacked haphazardly on the
desk and moved to the window seat without bothering to look at the
title. She didn’t want to read and had no interest in whatever
subject the book covered, but needed a little private time to try
to get some order to her jumbled thoughts and take stock of the
past few hours.

As she
settled back against the soft mound of cushions, she glanced
outside at the afternoon sunshine with a shiver. Although the sun
shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky, Eliza was chilled to the
bone. After the events of the past few days, she didn’t think she
would ever be warm again.

Her
fingers traced the gold scrolling on the book’s spine for several
moments as she stared absently out of the window, lost to
everything but her solemn thoughts. She just had to get through the
next few days. There was not only tomorrow to get through, and
Jemima’s funeral, but there was now the following day when Edward
left to contend with, and she had no idea which was
worse.

She was
about to turn back to the book in her hands when something beneath
the window outside caught her eye. It looked like a shiny gold
coin. Eliza frowned at it for several moments before studying the
garden. It didn’t seem the type of thing a gardener would drop, or
even have in his possession and directly beneath the window seemed
an unusual place for it to be.

Rising
to her feet, she moved to the French doors half way down the room
and slid the bolts back, shivering a little as the cool air swept
over her bare skin.

Carefully picking her way through the shrubs to the place
where she had seen the shiny coin, she studied it for several
moments trying to make out the writing on the shiny surface. It
appeared to be a foreign language. A foreign coin? She was half
turned back towards the doors when a large hand clamped over her
mouth and she was yanked roughly off her feet.

Immediately she knew the man behind her wasn’t Edward. Apart
from the man being smaller and heavier, he also smelled of sweat
and indefinable things she would rather not analyze. Eliza’s eyes
popped wide as she instinctively fought to free her face from the
grimy hand that covered her lips and nose. She could see the edges
of her vision turn black as she was denied the need to breathe, and
knew that she had to take a breath soon or would be lying next to
Jemima.

Desperation clawed at her and instinctively she stomped down
on the man’s booted foot at the same time she twisted right around
until she was almost facing him. Using his distraction to her
advantage, she took a huge breath and screamed as loudly as she
could.

The man
before her swore fluidly and she knew immediately he was one of
Scraggan’s men. She had lived in Padstow long enough to be familiar
with the Cornish language, even the profanities. She wriggled and
struggled against the man’s firm hold as he immediately rammed his
shoulder into her hips and swept her off the ground before crashing
through the bushes and making off across the gardens. Eliza
screamed the entire way, thrashing this way and that.

At that
moment, she didn’t care if he dropped her on her head, as long as
he put her down and didn’t carry her off to Scraggan. She continued
to scream and protest as she was carried across the vast expanse of
lawn. In the distance she was aware of startled shouts coming from
somewhere near the house but was too busy screaming to be able to
identify who it was. Vaguely she was aware of a number of men
thundering past her, heading towards the house and prayed for
Edward’s safety.

Despite
her frantic wriggling and squirming, her hands were tied behind her
back and she was dropped unceremoniously over the back of the horse
that was promptly led deeper into the woods, away from the house.
From her upside down position she had no idea which direction she
was being taken, or how far. Each time she did manage to raise her
head, all she could see was the horse and rider carefully keeping
pace alongside her. From her prone position, she couldn’t even
raise her head enough to see who the man was, whether it was
Scraggan, Rogan, both or neither.

She
could hear nothing other than the soft thud of the horses’ hooves
against the forest floor, and the heavy breathing of the man
alongside.

Once or
twice she almost slid off, only for the man beside her to grab her
dress in one meaty fist and slide her backwards. She wasn’t certain
if she was glad or not. Almost certainly the man was taking her to
Scraggan or Rogan.

Eventually they drew to a halt in a small clearing. She
winced when the meaty fist grabbed the back of her dress again and
she was wrenched upwards and off the horse. Her knees buckled
beneath her at the abrupt change in her position and she struggled
to remain upright as she was dragged forwards.

“
Welcome to our humble camp Eliza.”

Eliza’s
blood ran cold at the chilling voice that spoke in her ear. Horror
swept through her and she turned slowly to stare into the cold,
emotionless eyes of Rogan Scraggan. It took every ounce of
willpower she possessed to keep her face neutral. She simply stared
back at him blankly.

“
Not going to say hello?” Rogan murmured, his bottom lip
pouting theatrically. It was so out of place for their surroundings
he looked ridiculous but was clearly enjoying having the upper hand
and success at last.

Eliza
stood perfectly still and tried not to show any emotion as he
walked slowly around her, belligerently eyeing her up and down as
though she was a piece of horseflesh. Her gaze was blank and
disinterested as she stared straight ahead, refusing to give him
the satisfaction of knowing he was disturbing her.

“
You probably feel you are too good for the likes of us now
that you are in with the nabobs up at the big house.”

Goosebumps rose on her arms as a grubby finger trailed slowly
up her arm. She refused to flinch. The only flicker of movement
about her was the slight ticking of a muscle in her cheek as she
stared straight ahead.

Thwarted
by her lack of emotion, Rogan’s face appeared in her line of
vision. All traces of humanity gone from his feral eyes as he
stared at her, his face inches from hers. She wondered briefly if
he was going to try to kiss her and clenched her fists in
readiness. But after a few moments of staring at her, he snorted
and moved away.

“
Come and sit.” He motioned towards the camp fire. “We have a
lot to talk about.”

Eliza
stared at him for several moments before curiosity won through. She
knew that several men were stationed around the small clearing. If
she didn’t sit, she had no doubt that one of them would make
her.

Although
they were close enough to take action if they were needed, they
were kept at a respectful distance so they couldn’t overhear the
conversation. Eliza knew Rogan planned it this way and clearly
planned to interrogate her in an attempt to find out what she knew
about their activities.

“
Don’t be frightened.” Rogan’s voice was smarmy and chilling.
“I won’t hurt you.” The ‘yet’ remained unspoken but hovered
menacingly in the air between them.

Eliza
slowly moved to the pro-offered seat and perched carefully on the
wobbly stone.

“
I don’t want
you
exactly. I just need to ask you a few questions.” Rogan
murmured, offering her a dirty can of murky liquid that she
presumed was water.

Eliza
shook her head and watched as he took a sip and slammed the can on
the floor with too much force to match his seemingly relaxed
stance. She could feel the brutality shimmering in the air between
them and knew enough about the man not to be fooled by his
bonhomie. She had little doubt that he could and would suddenly
change to an extremely violent adversary in the blink of an eye,
with very little provocation.

“
I need to know what you wanted from Padstow.” He murmured,
his voice low yet vaguely threatening.

Eliza
remained silent and simply watched him. Her eyes were steady as
they met and held his penetrating stare defiantly.

“
You can either talk to me, or I will force you.” He spat when
she made no move to answer him. “Talk to me Eliza, or you will
regret your silence.”

She
could feel the tension shimmering from him and knew he was barely
holding his temper in check. The handle of a wicked looking
scabbard protruded from the hip of his dirty breeches like a
venomous snake. Given his background Eliza had no doubt he knew how
to use it to best advantage, but would he stoop so low as to use it
on an unarmed woman? Undoubtedly. Eliza couldn’t restrain the
shudder that swept through her as she considered the pain such a
weapon could cause.

“
Why do you want to know?” Her swallowed against the soreness
in her throat, her voice hoarse from all of the screaming she had
done.

“
You and your sister couldn’t keep your noses out of things
that weren’t any of your concern. Your sister paid for her
curiosity. We got some of the information back but Jemima made it
clear that you had the rest.”

Eliza
froze inside as she thought of her sister. Had they really gotten
to her and questioned her? If so, what had they done to her that
she would tell them such a thing knowing she was putting Eliza’s
life at risk? The thought of Jemima facing Rogan’s brutality before
being forced to the gallows brought forward a burst of loathing so
strong that it bolstered her courage, urging her to thwart
him.