Mastering the Marquess (31 page)

And, Meredith thought bleakly, of despair. She needed no one to tell her that Isaac Burnley had brought them to a madhouse, as he had sworn to do those many weeks ago.

She almost tripped over the uneven threshold of the door, but Jacob grabbed her elbow to steady her. Even though her head swam and she struggled against a feeling of lassitude, Meredith shook him off. The touch of his hand, even through multiple layers of clothing, made her skin crawl.

Isaac walked ahead of her, propelling Annabel down a dim, low-pitched passageway to the back of the house. Her sister tried to look over her shoulder at Meredith, but her uncle gripped her arm and dragged her along.

“I'm right behind you, my love, don't worry,” Meredith called out in a raspy voice.

Jacob uttered a deep laugh that sounded like an animal growling. “Worry about yourself, Meredith. We'll take care of Annabel.”

A door on the right side of the passage suddenly opened, and a severe looking woman in a rusty-colored bombazine dress emerged to greet Isaac.

“We have been waiting for you, Mr. Burnley,” she said. “Everything is ready.”

Meredith halted next to Annabel. She reached over and took her sister's hand. The girl looked up, her eyes huge and pitch-black with fear and the lingering effects of the drug.

“Mrs. Jukes, take this one and lock her up,” Isaac ordered, shoving Annabel into the woman's arms.

“What are you doing?” gasped Meredith, as she struggled to hold on to her sister. “Uncle Isaac, are you insane?”

“Meredith!” cried Annabel. “Don't let them take me!”

Tears streamed down Annabel's face as Mrs. Jukes tried to wrestle her away from Meredith. A hulking man with a misshapen nose appeared as if from nowhere and grabbed the girl around the waist, lifting her backward through the door.

“No!” screamed Meredith as she struggled to reach her sister. Jacob's arm wrapped around her chest, as hard as an iron bar, squeezing all the air from her lungs. Black dots swam across her vision.

The door to the room slammed shut, and Annabel was gone. Meredith sagged back against her cousin's body as the fight drained out of her. She was stunned—her mind completely unable to comprehend the terrible thought that she might never see her sister again. Suddenly, her feet left the floor as Jacob picked her up to carry her down the passage.

“Let me down,” she choked out as she pushed her hands against Jacob's chest.

He laughed. “You'll fall flat on your face if I do. Don't worry, sweet cousin. You'll see your sister again, as long as you do what we say.”

Meredith stopped struggling. Jacob was too powerful, and she needed to conserve her strength if she had any hope of saving Annabel's life. The most important thing was to keep the girl alive until Silverton could find them.

At the thought of her fiancé, her eyes filled with tears. She had clung to his image as a bulwark against the terror that had threatened to overwhelm her during the long night. Meredith surreptitiously fingered the cool mesh of the gold bracelet still encircling her wrist. It had become a talisman during the seemingly endless journey; as long as she wore it, she could believe Silverton would rescue them from this living hell. It was proof of his love and his promise to keep her and Annabel safe.

Jacob carried her into a low-ceilinged room, lit dimly by a lamp and a smoking fire in a small grate. The grimy windows filtered out most of the weak light from the overcast day.

Isaac stripped off his gloves before tossing his greatcoat over the back of an old-fashioned high-back chair. “Put her down,” he ordered.

Jacob set her on her feet. Meredith stumbled slightly and grabbed the edge of a table that stood in the center of the room.

Her cousin laughed. “I told you that you would fall.”

Meredith ignored him. Drawing herself up, she pushed her tangled hair from her forehead and faced her uncle. “What do you intend to do now?” Her voice was as cold as she could make it.

Isaac snorted as he reached for a tankard of ale that had been placed on the table. He handed it to his son and took a second one for himself.

“Always playing the lady of the manor, eh, Meredith?” her uncle sneered. “Well, you best realize that no bloody aristocrat will come to your rescue this time, my girl. If you want to see your sister alive again, you'll do exactly as I tell you.”

Meredith gripped the edge of the table even harder, staring back at Isaac with every ounce of loathing in her soul. His eyes swept over her face.

“You'll do what I say,” he said with a casual cruelty, “or your sister will be dead by morning.”

His coarse features looked positively demonic in the shadows cast by the lamp. Meredith tasted the bitter memory of the drug on her tongue and knew her uncle would do exactly as he threatened. She took a deep breath and stiffly nodded her head.

“Sit,” said Isaac, grabbing a chair and shoving it toward her.

Meredith sat, warily looking back and forth between her cousin and uncle.

Isaac lounged against the table. “You'll do everything we say, Meredith, because we have nothing to lose. You always wondered why Nora and I came to Swallow Hill, didn't you? We had to. I lost my business—everything I owned—at the end of last year. Nothing remains of the great Burnley fortune,” he said bitterly, “except, of course, for the inheritance left to you by your father. The creditors have been hounding us for months, and if we don't give them something soon, it's debtor's prison for us. That, or the continent.”

Meredith felt her mouth gape open, but she managed to hold her tongue.

Isaac laughed harshly. “You didn't think we moved there because of familial devotion, did you? I can't stand the sight of you, you arrogant bitch! And your sister is so weak it would do the world a favor if I let her rot in this hellhole until she died.”

Meredith swallowed the bile that rushed into her throat. If someone had placed a pistol in her hand at this moment, there was little doubt in her mind she would have shot her uncle.

“Of course, we did try to poison your sweet sister down in Kent, but I suppose you already know that. Jacob was very distressed when you almost died and ruined all our plans, weren't you, my boy?”

Meredith looked over at her cousin, surprised to see him gazing at his father with ill-concealed hatred. She knew it was too much to hope that Jacob would turn on Isaac, but perhaps she could use his animosity to some advantage.

“Of course, that's all in the past now, isn't it?” Isaac mused. “We may not get Annabel's money, but we'll get enough to survive on, and then some.” He looked over at his son. “And you'll finally get what you've been lusting after all these years, won't you, Jacob?”

Meredith saw the greedy triumph in her cousin's eyes, and the faint hope she had been harboring died within her. Isaac clearly intended to give Jacob exactly what he wanted.

“What must I do?” Meredith asked around the lump in her throat.

“It's simple, really,” explained Isaac with a grin that turned her blood to ice water. “You marry Jacob. As a wedding present, Annabel will give the ownership of Swallow Hill to you. It's a nice, tidy estate and should fetch a high enough price to pay off the rest of our creditors. Your fortune is not as great as Annabel's, but fifteen hundred a year is better than exile on the continent. Your sister may have slipped out of our hands, but I assure you, Niece, I will never let you go.”

“You
are
mad!” Meredith cried, no longer able to contain her loathing. “Annabel's family will find us, and you'll be put on trial for attempted murder and kidnapping. How could you ever imagine I would agree to this?”

“Oh, but they won't find her,” vowed Isaac softly. “They won't find either of you. You'll both simply disappear, and so will we. Do you actually think anyone knows where you are? I've been much too careful for that.”

“But even if I were to agree to marry Jacob, Annabel will never remain silent,” Meredith argued desperately. “The Stantons will not allow you to use us in this way.”

“That's where you're wrong, Meredith,” Jacob finally interjected. “By the time the Stantons know what's happening, you'll already be married to me. Do you really think the great general will see the family name tarred by a scandal like this? What will you try to do—divorce me? Charge us for kidnapping? The Stantons won't allow Annabel to be dragged into the middle of a trial, and you know it. After all”—his laugh was a guttural bark—“she's a very fragile girl. They'll be only too happy to keep their mouths shut, as long as they get their precious granddaughter back in one piece.”

Jacob reached over and stroked her cheek. Meredith flinched away from him.

“Besides,” added Isaac, pushing up from the table, “I'm Annabel's guardian. You'll never be able to prove murder, and if I see fit to place Annabel in a madhouse, that's my legal right. I already have a doctor who will swear to her insanity. In fact, this is his asylum. You remember Dr. Leeds from Bristol, don't you? No, Meredith. Those proud bastards the Stantons will be only too happy to avoid the scandal, and Annabel will be only too happy to give you Swallow Hill. We all know she'll do anything to please you.”

Meredith could hardly breathe, a misery as heavy as death crushing her chest. She could see no escape from this nightmare, at least not before Silverton could find them.

Jacob chuckled, almost as if he could read her thoughts. “As for you, my sweet, did you really think the Stantons would give a damn about you? To them, you're nothing but a shopgirl. They'll probably be grateful I took you off their hands, since you'll no longer be able to embarrass them.”

Meredith thought of the promises Silverton had made to her last night and felt something shrivel within her soul. She looked into the long passage of years stretching before her—a life bound inextricably to the people she hated most. She thought of the endless torture of nights in Jacob's bed and knew she would prefer death to such an existence.

But it was not just her own life she was responsible for. There was Annabel. Meredith would do anything to save her sister, including consigning herself to a marriage that would utterly destroy her.

A sense of dull resignation crept over her. She closed her mind to the terrifying vision of a ruined life and focused on the present. Meredith would live only for this moment, and right now what she needed to do was save Annabel.

She lifted her head and tried to force the words of submission from her throat. But she couldn't speak. Meredith grasped the arms of the chair, took a deep breath, and tried again. Still the words would not come.

Jacob's face twisted with anger. He reached down and yanked her up from the chair. “Perhaps you need a little encouragement,” he leered.

He covered her lips in a suffocating kiss. She managed to get one arm free, raking her nails down his face. Jacob screamed, drew his arm back, and struck her hard across the face. Meredith fell to the floor, her ears ringing in pain, her face throbbing as she fought the black tide that threatened to pull her under. She dimly heard the chair scraping against the floor and braced herself for the blow that was sure to follow.

“Stop it, Jacob,” barked Isaac. “We don't want the preacher to see any marks on her face. Lock her up with Annabel for the rest of the day. Maybe a little time spent in the madhouse will help the fool come to her senses.”

Cruel hands pulled her up and began to drag her to the door. An iron claw wrapped itself around her wrist. “What's this?” snarled Jacob.

Meredith cried out as Jacob found the bracelet concealed under her sleeve. She struggled to break free, but he managed to unclasp the band and hold it up to the light.

“Now that's a pretty little trinket,” he breathed harshly. “Is it a gift from Silverton? Have you already opened your legs for him, my sweet little cousin? It looks as if you won't be coming to my bed a virgin, after all. That should make things more interesting, at least for me.”

Meredith barely heard a word he said. The black wave that had been threatening to drown her finally crashed through her remaining barriers of self-control. The voices faded away as she surrendered to a pitiless void of despair.

“Meredith, are you awake?”

Annabel's whisper intruded on Meredith's consciousness, rousing her from the twilight state she had drifted in during the last few hours.

“Yes, dear, I'm awake.”

She stirred on the filthy straw mattress slung across a rickety wooden bed frame, the only piece of furniture in the tiny room. Annabel huddled against her side, arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Meredith ducked her head to inspect the girl's face in the dismal light, praying that her sister had recovered from her earlier bout of hysterical tears.

Meredith had been in a half-swoon when Jacob carried her into the wing of the madhouse where Annabel had been incarcerated. At first, she had thought herself trapped in the throes of a nightmare. It took several moments to understand that the screams emanating as if from the very walls were the cries of the asylum's inmates.

The smells were even worse than the noise. The odor of unwashed bodies and filthy privies so overwhelmed her that Meredith feared she would faint a second time. Refusing to make herself so vulnerable again, she closed her eyes and breathed through her mouth to steady her spinning head.

Jacob suddenly stopped, and Meredith heard a loud rattling of keys. She opened her eyes, noticing for the first time that Mrs. Jukes preceded them. The severe-looking woman opened a door, and Jacob carried her through it. Annabel was huddled on a decrepit bed shoved up against the wall of the otherwise empty room. As soon as she saw Meredith, she launched herself up from the mattress.

“Meredith!” she shrieked, flying toward her.

Mrs. Jukes grabbed the girl by the arms and forced her back to the bed.

“What have you done to my sister?” Annabel sobbed.

“If you know what's good for you, my girl,” Mrs. Jukes said in a cold voice, “you'll best keep quiet. If you don't behave yourself, we'll have to put you in restraints. A fine young miss like yourself shouldn't be making such a fuss, now, should she?”

“Annabel, I'm fine,” Meredith gasped, terrified Mrs. Jukes would carry out her threat.

“You won't be for long if you don't do what you're told,” Jacob warned as he dumped her down on the bed beside her sister. “I'll be back for you later, Meredith. Think on what my father said, or you and Annabel won't see the dawn of another day.”

Jacob and Mrs. Jukes left the room. The door slammed shut, plunging the tiny cell into a shadowed gloom.

“I was so afraid I would never see you again,” Annabel wept as Meredith pulled her into her arms.

“I know, dear. I'm here now. Don't cry. I won't let anyone hurt you.” Meredith rocked her sister back and forth as the girl cried hysterically in her arms.

Eventually, the shattering sobs tapered off into the occasional hiccup, and Annabel fell into a deep sleep. Meredith held her for hours, trying to gauge the passage of time as the dim light faded through the small, iron-barred window set high up in the stone wall of their prison.

Eventually, worn out by her own anxious vigil, she had fallen into a restless doze.

Now, as Meredith sat up on the creaky bed, she struggled against the lassitude that clouded her mind. As she gazed blearily at the unfamiliar surroundings, she suddenly experienced a brief flash of disorientation and then panic. Night had fallen, and Silverton had not come. She knew that Jacob could return at any moment, and, when he did, she would have no choice but to do as he wished. If she didn't, her cousin and uncle would kill them both.

“How long do you think they'll leave us in here?”

Meredith stroked her hands over Annabel's tangled hair, her heart breaking at the quaver in her sister's voice. “I don't know, darling. Perhaps not much longer.”

Annabel shifted on the bed, turning to look directly into her eyes. Meredith was startled by the unwavering resolve in her sister's gaze.

“Don't worry, Meredith.” Annabel's voice was much stronger than it had been even a moment ago. “Lord Silverton and Robert will find us, I know they will.”

Meredith could only nod her head, silenced by the misery threatening to consume her. If she could only keep Annabel safe, Silverton would eventually rescue them. She knew he would not rest until he found them.

But she also knew that help would come too late for her. Jacob would undoubtedly force her into marriage this night, and bed her immediately afterward. Even Silverton could not extend his love to a woman who had been despoiled by another man, nor tolerate the scandal of a divorce. His family wouldn't permit it, and, for Annabel's sake, neither would she.

Meredith struggled to accept the crushing weight of despair bearing down on her spirit. The sooner she purged her love for Silverton from her heart the better, since it would only torture her to madness. That part of her life was dead to her now, and she must look unflinchingly to the future, however terrible it might be. Annabel was all that mattered, and Meredith would do whatever was necessary to save her life.

Her sister suddenly moved to the edge of the bed. “I think I hear something.”

Meredith heard it too, the sound of heavy footsteps moving rapidly toward them. A key was inserted in the lock and the door swung open, rusty hinges screeching in protest. She stood and faced the door, pulling Annabel up beside her. Jacob, Mrs. Jukes, and the man with the misshapen nose crowded into the room. Meredith froze when she saw the ugly man carried a pistol.

Jacob's face appeared satanic in the fitful light cast by Mrs. Jukes's lantern. “Well, Meredith? Have you made your decision?”

Annabel jerked her head, her eyes widening in alarm as she stared at her sister. “What is he talking about, Meredith? What decision?”

“It's all right, dear,” Meredith murmured as she gazed steadily at Jacob. “Everything will be all right. You'll be away from this place soon enough.”

Her cousin's mouth stretched into a triumphant sneer. “I'm pleased you made the right decision. Father always said you were no fool, and he was obviously right.” He grabbed her arm. “Now say good-bye to Annabel. It may be some time before you see her again.”

“No!” Annabel wrapped her arms around Meredith's waist, clinging to her with desperate hands. Mrs. Jukes darted forward to pull her away.

“Don't you touch her,” Meredith warned as she tightened her arms around her sister.

Jacob shook his head at the asylum keeper. Mrs. Jukes frowned but stepped back.

Meredith cradled Annabel's face in her hands, staring into her sister's anguished eyes. “Annabel, you must listen to me. I know what I'm doing. No one will harm you, and you'll be returning home very soon.”

Her sister's lips quivered as she struggled not to cry, but tears dripped down her cheeks anyway. Meredith was very certain her own heart was shattered beyond repair.

“I will see you soon enough,” she said, tenderly brushing the tears from Annabel's face. “I promise.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at the group by the door. “Is that not right, Jacob?” Her voice contained a note of challenge her cousin could not fail to understand.

Jacob glowered at her for a moment before impatiently nodding his head. “Aye, you'll see each other soon enough.”

Meredith inwardly sighed with relief. She needed to keep her sister from finding out the truth. If Annabel knew, she would fight it, and Meredith was terrified Mrs. Jukes would put the girl in restraints or worse.

“Do you promise?” Annabel's voice broke.

“Darling, I promise!” Meredith hugged her fiercely, only letting go when Jacob's hand came down heavily on her shoulder. She allowed him to steer her from the room, not daring to look back at Annabel's tear-streaked face. Meredith could not bear the pain she knew she would see in the girl's eyes.

Jacob towed her quickly down the dingy passage. Meredith suddenly dug in her heels, forcing him to stop.

“Don't try your luck, Meredith,” he rasped, tugging at her arm.

“I will do everything you wish of me,” she replied calmly, even though she felt her legs would collapse at any second. “But you must give me your word as my cousin, as the friend of my youth, that you will do as you promise—that you will release Annabel unharmed.”

He scowled at her, but she thought a hint of uneasiness and possibly even shame darkened his coarse features.

“I said she would be unharmed if you marry me. She will be returned to London in the morning.”

He started to pull her down the hall, but Meredith resisted. “Even if your father doesn't wish it?” she challenged.

He rounded on her so quickly that she almost staggered from the shock.

“Blast you, I told you, didn't I?” He pressed her body back against the wall, leering at her as he did so.
“If
you do everything I say, and I mean everything, then Annabel will be released unharmed.”

Meredith swallowed a rush of saliva, sickened by the feel of his huge body pushing against hers. She nodded quickly.

“Good,” he grunted, marching her to a set of stairs at the end of the passage. He hurried her down to a landing, which branched out into two separate hallways. The old house was like a rabbit warren, ramshackle and poorly lit. As Jacob hustled her along after Mrs. Jukes, Meredith tried desperately to memorize the way back to Annabel's room.

The hallway branched again, and she recognized the passage leading to the front of the house. As they reached the end of the hall, a door swung open and light spilled out into the passage. Isaac stood framed in the doorway.

“What took you so long?”

Jacob ignored his father as he pushed Meredith into the room. It was the same parlor as before, but now it was brightly lit with two brass lanterns, and a roaring fire had been built up on the hearth.

“Well?” growled Isaac.

Jacob grinned at his father.

Isaac laughed. “Well, girl, I'm glad to see you've come to your senses. In the morning, Annabel will sign over the ownership of Swallow Hill to you. As her guardian, I will approve the transaction. Then we'll put her in a coach and send her back to London.”

“Why does she have to wait till tomorrow?” demanded Meredith. “Why not do it tonight?”

Isaac tsked and shook his finger at her in a horrible parody of an affectionate uncle. “Now, now, my dear. We wouldn't want to deprive you and Jacob of your wedding night, would we? Must have things tied up properly before we send Annabel on her way.”

Jacob's eyes ran hungrily over her body, and Meredith's last faint hope burned away in the black smoke of his gaze. She looked into the fire, trying to control the roiling pain in her stomach.

“Mrs. Jukes.” Isaac spoke harshly. “Where is the parson? He should have been here by now.”

“My apologies, sir.” The woman shrugged her shoulders. “He sent a boy around not twenty minutes ago to tell me he would be late. Reverend Caine is attending a deathbed. The boy said that old Mr. Tyler would not live out the hour.”

Isaac snorted loudly, obviously frustrated.

“How . . .” Meredith cleared her throat and started again. “How will Jacob and I be able to marry so quickly?”

“Not to worry, dear Niece,” Isaac sneered. “We obtained a special license before we left London. All you need do is convince the good parson that you wish to be married. In fact,” he laughed, “you'll tell the man you simply can't wait a moment longer to be Jacob's wife, won't you?”

Jacob joined in the laughter. Meredith swallowed again, afraid she would soon be sick all over the floor. Her uncle abruptly stopped laughing and ran a disapproving eye over her figure.

“The parson will think something's amiss if you come to your groom looking like a trollop. Go with Mrs. Jukes and clean yourself up.”

There was obviously nothing she could do to fight them. Resigned, Meredith was about to follow the other woman from the room when she caught the sound of raised voices from the front of the house. There was a distant crash, and then a door farther down the hallway slammed shut.

“What the hell was that?” Isaac's head snapped back at the noise.

Mrs. Jukes gaped at the two men. “I haven't a clue, sir. We are only expecting the parson. There are no other patients arriving tonight.”

Isaac snatched up the lantern from the table and headed for the door. “Jacob, keep an eye on your cousin. Don't let her out of the room. You”—he jerked his head at Mrs. Jukes—“come with me.”

He strode from the room. Jacob gazed uneasily after his father and then began rummaging for something in his coat pocket.

Praying to herself that her cousin would remain distracted, Meredith began inching toward the door. Jacob glanced up, cursed, and crossed the room in a flash. He wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck in a punishing grip. She gasped at the pain, her eyes flooding with moisture.

“Where the hell do you think you're going?” He pushed her across the room to the one of the ladder-back chairs.

“Sit down and shut up, Meredith, or I swear you'll regret it for the rest of your life.”

He was about to shove her down on the hard wooden seat when there was a pounding of footsteps out in the hall, and the door to the parlor suddenly flew open. Silverton strode into the room, looking as grim and hard as any battle-scarred warrior. He was clad in a dusty greatcoat and mud-splattered boots. His head was uncovered, his hair tousled and damp.

When Meredith saw the expression in Silverton's eyes, her heart took a great leap in her chest. They were like windows into hell—but it was a hell encased in thick sheets of impenetrable ice rather than the blazing fires of the damned. He calmly raised his right hand and pointed a large pistol at Jacob's head.