Chasing Eliza (31 page)

“
I don’t have any information.” Eliza declared
flatly.

Rogan
launched from his seat and drew nose-to-nose with her. Defiantly
she met his stare and glared right back, refusing to be drawn by
the scabbard now pointing dangerously close to her face.

“
You can threaten me as much as you please but I have nothing
to tell you. Jemima was the one who worked with my father and did
most of his writing. I ran the house.” Eliza sighed deeply, partly
to try to relieve some of the nerves that were wracking through
her, and partly to try to convince the vile oaf before her that she
wasn’t perturbed by his threatening actions. The last thing she
needed was for Rogan to realise just how fearful of him she really
was.

“
There were papers your father had. Copies of schedules,
people and things that are none of your business. We want them
back.”

“
Schedules of what? What people?” Eliza frowned at him,
pretending to be confused by his demands. “What had Jemima copied?”
She studied him as closely as he watched her.

He was
confused. Perturbed by her lack of emotion and apparent ignorance
of the significance of the papers he was after.

“
Don’t play dumb.” He murmured after a few moments of silent
contemplation, his thin lips curling in arrogant contempt. “You
almost had me there.”

Eliza
decided to play along anyway and frowned as she watched back. “I
have no idea what you mean.” She didn’t flinch when the blade of
the scabbard touched her cheek, merely watched him back blankly,
hoping she could brazen it out.

“
You’re good.” Rogan murmured softly. “But you won’t be if you
don’t stop playing games.”

Despite
the seriousness of the situation, Eliza felt her temper begin to
fray.

Her
thoughts turned to Edward and she immediately felt calmness settle
over her. The mere thought of the man who held her heart made her
feel a security that belied the seriousness of her
situation.

“
You can blade me Rogan. You can scream, shout and threaten me
with whatever you want, but I don’t have any papers.” She raised a
hand when Rogan took a breath to interrupt. “I don’t have any idea
you are talking about. Threatening me with anything won’t make the
information you want magically appear. I don’t have it.”

“
Then what were you doing in Padstow?” Rogan snapped, drawing
back and lowering his scabbard.

Eliza
could see no reason not to give him a carefully edited version of
the truth. “I lost contact with Jemima while I was living in Derby.
She didn’t meet me as promised. When Jemima and I decided to leave
Padstow we agreed that if we lost contact with each other, we would
go home and leave a note giving details of where we had gone. When
I couldn’t find Jemima, I had to go to Padstow to see if she had me
left a note.” She glared at Rogan accusingly and didn’t add that
she didn’t actually make it to Padstow. Clearly the reports he had
received hadn’t been as accurate as he thought. “I had no idea at
the time that you had set her up and she was awaiting death in
Derby Gaol.”

She
heaved a sigh of relief when Rogan reluctantly accepted her
explanation. He was clearly considering what to do next and sat
studying her thoughtfully for several moments.

“
She was very easy to set up in the end. Fell for it hook,
line and sinker.” Rogan’s arrogance got the better of him and he
was clearly driven by the need to boast about his
cleverness.

“
Fell for what?” Her heart hammered in her chest. She stared
in horror at the man opposite, hatred filling her breast for his
callous disregard of her sister’s life.

“
We told her we had you. If she wanted you to survive she had
to meet us at a certain time and place.”

“
You held up the coach carrying the Mayor of Derby and his
wife.” She accused, feeling sick to her stomach as she started the
wicked blade he was toying with.

“
Killed ‘em both, stole their stuff and set up Jemima for
their murder while we were at it. Worked like a charm.”

“
But the men you set up with Jemima. They weren’t all tricked
to, surely?”

She
scowled across the small clearing at him, all thoughts of escaping
forgotten for the time being as she listened in rapt horror to his
version of events. She knew they were the truth, Jemima had said
so.

“
They were useless.” Rogan spat. “We sent them to find you.
Ha! They couldn’t find the bloody noses on the end of their faces.
So we told them they either went along with the plan and went to
jailed for their crimes, after a while they would be let out – call
it a punishment of sorts, meted out by justice.” He sniggered at
his own cleverness.

“
You didn’t tell them they would be going to jail for murder
and face hanging.” She didn’t require his confirmation, it was
there in the satisfied glint in his eyes.

“
You forgot one thing.” Her voice was deadly calm. She knew he
was trying to worry her by toying with his blade but refused to let
him see just how frightened she was of both.

“
When you saw Jemima executed you forgot that the information
she had was already on its way to the people who are going to bring
you down.”

She felt
a certain satisfaction as she watched Rogan go rigid as the reality
of being too late dawned on him.

“
By killing her, you made sure that she couldn’t tell you who
she sent the information to. I know Papa went to see someone in the
War Office – he and Jemima had contacts there. But I don’t know who
they were. You forgot to find out just who Jemima sent her papers
to because there is one thing for certain.” She paused, her eyes
locked with this as she drove her success home. “You have no idea
now just who in authority knows about you and your father’s
activities, what information they do have, and who the informants
are that are still betraying you.”

Her
heart somersaulted in her chest as she stared directly into the
cold, hard eyes of Scraggan’s son and knew he was indeed a chip off
the old block. His heart was as black and twisted as his father’s.
There was no reaction other than a steady, blank stare for several
minutes that left goose bumps on her skin. Eventually he seemed to
snap out of his daze and he blinked several times apparently
absorbing her words.

“
Do you really think you can kill repeatedly and never face
justice? Killing me will only add to the list of your crimes.” She
kept her eyes averted as Rogan stood and moved several paces away.
She kept talking regardless, knowing she had his attention from his
sudden restlessness. “You have made great enemies not only in
Edward, but also Peter and their contacts in the War Office. But
you have bigger problems than that Rogan. You have a viper in your
midst and at the moment you have no idea who.”

She
couldn’t keep the malice from her voice. It was the least he
deserved given he was responsible for putting Jemima at the
gallows. She hated him and could feel no mercy in her
heart.

“
Shut up!” Rogan spat, his temper clearly rising.

Eliza
felt a strange calm settle over her. She couldn’t detect any
movement around them, but for some vague reason she wanted to look
over her shoulder. Some level of awareness beckoned and warned her
that there was someone nearby.

Her
heart lurched and she wondered briefly if it was Edward, but
immediately quashed the idea. After all, she hadn’t heard any
movement indicating the arrival of anyone – even the horses had
been quietly undisturbed, steadily grazing in the small meadow
beyond the trees.

“
I’m just stating facts.” Eliza continued, refusing to back
down or be ordered around by him. “You are being betrayed to an
extent that your days of running rife are numbered; for both you
and your father. Have you heard from him lately?” Her voice was
almost conversational.

“
Shut up, I said!” Rogan shouted, his face had lost the blank
look and was now reddened with fury.

Eliza
knew she had struck a nerve. She didn’t know why she felt the urge
to keep prodding him.

It was a
little like poking a wasp nest with a stick. At some point you know
you are going to get stung, but you keep poking anyway just to see
what will happen.

She
wondered what Rogan would do now.

“
I’m just saying.” She argued, wondering what Rogan would do
now. “If you are going to kill people around you, then you have to
understand that at some point people are going to do what they can
to stop you.”

“
I said
shut up!”
Rogan bellowed, stomping across the clearing towards her. Her
hair was yanked painfully, her head dragged backwards as the blade
of his wicked looking knife dug into the tender flesh of her
throat. In a brief moment Eliza wondered if she was facing the
final few moments of her life. Although she was relatively calm
about facing death, her only regret about losing her life so soon
was that she had never told Edward how much she loves
him.

“
I don’t expect to hear anything from you until you are told.
Understand?” He bit out, anger practically vibrating from
him.

Eliza
daren’t push him any further and heaved a shaken sigh of relief
when he stomped away. He shot her one last filthy glare as he moved
to the opposite side of the camp, pacing backwards and forwards in
his agitation. He stopped only to give one of the men standing in
the trees a quiet order before resuming his seat with such calmness
every nerve within her jangled in alarm. The sudden change in him
was unnerving.

Silence
settled over the camp for several moments. Unnatural silence. As
she sat on the wobbly stone she took the time to study the camp.
She was relatively certain that there had been three or four men on
the far side of the fire pit, standing just inside the protection
of the trees. They weren’t there now.

The
other two men standing just on the edge of the meadow further away
had also gone. Were they meeting up somewhere in preparation to
move on? Or were they being systematically taken out
one-by-one?

She
watched in concern as the man returned leading a huge horse on a
piece of rope.

“
Time to go.” Rogan moved to stand before her, a glint of
satisfaction in his eye as he dragged her roughly to her
feet.

Eliza
eyed the beast warily and dug her heels in as she was dragged
towards it. She squealed in alarm as a rope was suddenly draped
around her neck and she stared in horror at the horse as
realisation dawned.

Everything within her froze as the cold reality of what they
were about to do dawned on her. Panic rose as the coarse fibres of
the twine scratched her tender flesh and fought with everything in
her as they tried to get her onto the horse’s back.

Was this
what Jemima had been through? She didn’t know what was worse. Being
in woods, cold and alone with no hope of salvation or being hung by
an expert, with people nearby to hang off your legs and break your
neck to quicken your death.

“
You can’t do this.” Eliza shouted, feeling sick as she stared
death in the face. Frantically her eyes searched the clearing for
any signs of Edward or Peter, but she could see nothing but leaves
and trees. She could hear nothing but the soft rustling of leaves
in the thick canopy high above and the soft snuffle of the horse
chosen to carry her to death.

“
Oh I think you will find I can.” Rogan’s voice was merciless
as he pushed her upwards.

She
kicked and struggled, ignoring Rogan’s biting orders and vociferous
cursing and fought for her life. Briefly she thought she had won as
Rogan suddenly stopped trying to push and appeared before her.
Hopes were wildly dashed as she was smacked harshly across the
face, stunning her for those few precious moments.

It was
Rogan and his helper needed to wrestle her onto the horse. Within
moments, she was sitting astride the huge beast, the rope strung
over the thick, coarse branch of the huge oak tree directly above
her.

She
stared across the fields, everything within her frozen in time;
waiting for that fateful slap of the horse’s rump that would send
it on a mad dash, and drop her into death’s waiting
arms.

Chapter
Thirteen

Some
unique sense of self preservation, something so intrinsically raw
settled around her and she felt an innate sense of calm settle over
her. Briefly she wondered if it was Jemima, come to help her
through the last few moments of her life. But she knew it went far
further than that.

Edward.

He was
everything she had ever considered good and right in the word, and
far out of her reach. He had fought for her, suffered hardships for
her, taught her to trust and believe in the goodness of people
whatever life threw at her.

She
could only be glad Edward would be spared the ordeal Peter had been
put through and wouldn’t be present to watch her die. Her heart
ached for everything they were going to be denied. If she could
have her chance again, there was absolutely nothing over the past
few days she regretted and would indeed do it all again.