Not Always a Saint (24 page)

“If you want my wife, you'll have to get past me!” Daniel snapped.

At the Westerfield Academy, Hindu martial arts were a school passion first taught by the very young, half-Hindu Duke of Ashton. One exercise was for a single student to take on several adversaries at once, and Daniel had been very good at that. Fighting several men simultaneously was like a fierce kind of dancing. Daniel had learned there that an individual had advantages over a group if the assailants weren't trained to work together.

The rules were simple: Close fast, use their numbers against them, strike vulnerable places, and be somewhere else when they strike back. With his knowledge of anatomy, Daniel was particularly good at targeting vulnerable places like soft tissue and fragile joints.

Swiftly he grabbed the leader by the arm and shoulder and hurled him into the man behind. Then he swung to his left and chopped another man's throat with the side of his hand, knocking him to the sand.

A burly fellow tried to tackle him, but Daniel spun away. Kick, punch, slide away. Thank God they weren't armed. Their aim was kidnapping, not murder.

Two men tackled Daniel and he went down, but rolled with it and maneuvered both of them into the path of another man, tripping him as well. As Daniel shoved the men off him, he saw that Jessie was racing up the steps. But the leader was pursuing her and closing fast.

Daniel fought even harder, scrambling to his feet and driving his shoulder into one belly, then kicking another man in the knee with numbing force. But they were five to one against him. Three of the men tackled him at once from different directions.

Daniel almost went down under the attack, but managed to keep on his feet. Swiftly he kicked one in the groin, then hurled a handful of sand into the eyes of another man. As the fellow gasped, Daniel slammed a crunching fist into his jaw.

His opponent swore furiously. “You fight pretty damned well for a lord!” He accompanied his words with a blow to Daniel's gut, knocking him breathless. One of the other attackers took advantage of Daniel's weakness to knock him to the sand and pin him down. Another man piled on as Daniel fought to free himself.

Above on the steps, the leader caught Jessie. As her bonnet came off to float down to the sand on the breeze, she screamed, “Help!” But the crash of the waves and whistle of the wind drowned out most of her cry.

Still screaming, she went for the leader's eyes with clawed fingers, but he grabbed her around the chest, locking her arms down while he lifted her off her feet. She struggled fiercely as he carried her down the steps to the beach. When she saw how Daniel was pinned down, she cried despairingly, “Daniel!”

With a rush of berserker fury, he broke free and sprinted toward Jessie even though he knew any action of his was futile. As he was recaptured, the man holding Jessie, snarled, “Stop screaming, you bitch! I've got every damned right to carry you off!”

Jessie managed to claw the concealing scarf off his lower face. She stopped struggling, her expression stunned. Incredulous, she gasped, “Ivo?”

S
hocked to her marrow, Jessie stared at the familiar face of the man who held her imprisoned in his arms. The height, dark hair, long nose, and bushy brows were unmistakable, though he'd broadened and looked older and harder. Well, so had she. “It can't be you,” she said through numb lips. “You're dead!”

“You didn't quite manage, little Lisbet!” he growled in a familiar voice, not loosening her hold. “You're still quite the tasty little morsel. I'd half forgotten after all these years.” He set her feet on the ground and grabbed her backside with one hand, like a housewife checking out the ripeness of fruit. “How about a little kiss for your long-lost husband?”

Jessie kicked him furiously, wishing her half-boots were heavier. At the same time, Daniel surged free of the men holding him. “Let her go, damn you!” he thundered in a voice that could fill a large church.

Before he'd come two steps, one of Ivo's men bashed him on the head with a stone picked up from the sand. Daniel crumpled to the sand.

Jessie screamed, “Daniel!” and tried to break free of Ivo, but failed once again. “Is he the one you ran off with after cutting my throat?” Ivo asked. “Or a more recent victim of your charms?”

She managed to free her right arm and slapped him as hard as she could. “I wish I
had
succeeded in killing you, you vile, bullying excuse for a gentleman!”

“You've a shrewish tongue on you, Lisbet!” His cheek reddening from her blow, he tugged off his scarf and used it to gag her. His voice dropped menacingly. “I think I'll blindfold you as well. It's more frightening, and I want you to be
terrified!
”

He was succeeding, damn him. She was terrified and not just for herself. How hard had Daniel been struck? His head had been bleeding when he went down.

Ivo had come well prepared, and he efficiently tied her wrists behind her back. One of his men asked, “What do we do with her fancy man? Toss him in the water?”

As Jessie froze, Ivo tied a handkerchief around her eyes, blinding her. “Bring Romayne with us,” Ivo ordered. “I don't see why she should do all the suffering on her own.”

“Bloody beggar is heavy!”

“There's five of you and one of him,” Ivo said callously. “Try not to damage him much.” He pinched Jessie's backside again. “Come along, sweetheart. I have a score to settle with you.”

He gripped her upper left arm with bruising force and half dragged her across the sand. She stumbled when they came to rough stone. Ivo barked, “Lou, take her other arm so she doesn't break any bones too soon.”

Lou took her other arm and the two men managed to keep her upright over slippery, dangerous rocks. Then constriction and dampness. They'd entered a sea cave. Ivo and his men must have come through this passage when they attacked.

“Steps,” Ivo said brusquely. “Don't thrash around or I'll let you fall.”

Lou's hand dropped away since the stairwell was too narrow for three people to climb abreast. There was barely space for two, and she was squashed into Ivo's side as he marched her up. The stone steps were hollowed out from use. They must be right under the old castle. How many centuries had men come and gone this way?

The only comfort was murmured comments from Ivo's men that suggested they were bringing Daniel along with some degree of care. She hoped that was the case. If he was conscious, he must be cursing the day he met her.

After what seemed like an endless, painful hike, the steps leveled out and Ivo halted. A key turned in a lock; then a heavy door squealed open. Ivo's hard hand shoved between her shoulder blades and she fell hard onto a rough stone floor, bruising her hands and knees.

“Drop his lordship anywhere,” Ivo said brusquely. “I'll leave 'em here to sweat.” He jerked at the ties binding Jessie's wrists and freed her hands. “Think about what you did, Lisbet,” he said gruffly. “While I decide whether or not to leave you here to starve.”

As Jessie tore at the gag and blindfold, the heavy door slammed shut and Ivo locked it behind him. She and Daniel had been left in a crude cell that was apparently carved out of solid rock. A couple of ragged blankets lay in a corner and a narrow, barred window showed sky outside. The sound of crashing surf sounded far below.

Heart pounding with fear, she dropped onto her sore knees by Daniel's crumpled figure. A streak of blood ran through his fair hair, but when she brushed his hair back to examine the injury, his eyes fluttered open.

“A minor concussion.” He drew a ragged breath and winced as he felt around his damaged skull. “Nothing to worry about. How are you?”

She managed a smile. “Bruised and terrified, but greatly relieved to know that you're more or less all right. Can you sit up? Do you want to even try?”

He replied by rolling cautiously to a sitting position, wincing again. “Where are we? I missed some of the journey here.”

“I think we're under Castle Romayne,” she said. “He seemed to be taking us back into the sea cave, then up some stone steps.”

Daniel made an effort to stand, and with Jessie's help he managed to clamber to his feet. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her so she could quietly shake for a while, but he turned and limped to the window.

“You're right, this view is very similar to the one from the new house, but lower and a little farther west. The castle is old enough to have dungeons underneath. Over the centuries, escape tunnels and smugglers' hideouts could have been added.”

She bit her lip as she watched him silhouetted against the small window. Rangy height, broad shoulders, and blood matting his blond hair. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I never imagined that my past would catch up with me in such a ghastly way.”

Daniel turned from the window, his face unreadable with the light behind him. “Given how upset you were by that final bloody fight with Ivo, it's not surprising that you couldn't find his pulse. Are you sorry that you didn't actually kill him?”

She hesitated. “I'm glad he isn't dead. It was horrifying to know that I'd killed a man that . . . that I'd loved. But I wish to heaven that he'd never found me and decided to take revenge!”

“He's a very angry man,” Daniel said. “Was he always like this?”

“Usually he was talkative and charming, but today he behaved just the way he did when he was drunk,” she said. “I didn't smell a trace of spirits on him today, though, so maybe now he's horrible and frightening all the time.”

“Can you guess what he intends? He could have easily killed us, but he seems to have gone to some effort to avoid that.”

“He wants me to suffer, and you along with me.” She swallowed hard, not wanting to imagine what lay ahead. “I'm so sorry.”

“No more apologies,” Daniel ordered. “Any fault in this situation lies with your husband.”

For the first time, the horrifying reality that underlay the events of the day really struck home. “Dear God in heaven!” she whispered, aghast. “If he's my husband, you
aren't.
”

“Nor was Philip,” Daniel said with cool detachment.

Jessie's mind moved to the next step. “So Beth is illegitimate and not heiress to Philip's title and property.”

“No, but she is still the beloved child of you and Philip. Plus, an heiress if not a baroness,” he pointed out. “The one good element of this is that Frederick will no longer have a reason to threaten you or Beth.”

That was good. Very good. But she felt ill when she looked across the cell at the man who was not her husband. Daniel had given her passion and patience and safety. Only now did she recognize that she had committed herself to him totally, heart and soul. But he was not her husband, and his expression showed the detached kindness and compassion that a doctor, or a vicar, would show to a stranger.

“This is all so
wrong!
” she exclaimed.

“I agree, but the legal and emotional implications can wait for another day,” Daniel said coolly. “I'd rather try to escape now, before Ivo returns drunk and armed. Adding alcohol to his existing bad temper is an alarming prospect.”

“Escape?” She studied the massive wooden door. It looked very solid and had a strong new lock. “Can a lock like this be picked? Is that one of your many skills?”

“Alas, no. But there is another way out.” He was eyeing the window with its heavy metal bars.

“Escaping through the window would be worse than the door!” she exclaimed, appalled. “Even if we could get through those bars, there's a
cliff
out there! With rocks and raging seas at the bottom!”

“The bars are solid,” he agreed. “But the wooden frame they're set in is quietly rotting away from time and damp.”

He pulled a folding knife from his pocket and started digging at the frame. Sizable chunks of wood dropped to the floor. “We're more than halfway down the cliff here. Remember how when we were on the beach, I mentioned that a ridge of rocks around the base of the headland looked almost like a crude path? My guess is that the pirates or smugglers who used these tunnels augmented the natural rockfall to create an escape route to the Romayne beach, where they could safely bring a boat in.”

She thought of the cliff, the rocks, the waves, the risk of broken bones and drowning—and squared her shoulders. “What can I do?”

He paused in flaking the wooden frame and reached inside his coat to withdraw a flat canvas packet half a dozen inches square and about a half inch thick. He unfolded it and pulled out a small pair of scissors. “Start cutting those blankets into strips. The fabric is heavy enough to tie into a crude rope that we can use to get down to that pathway.”

Bemused, she took the scissors. “You carry a medical kit around with you?”

He nodded and turned back to the window. “I've needle and thread and basic bandages and a few other useful things. One never knows when a little surgical work will be required.”

“You amaze me,” she said as she pulled the blankets from the corner. They were dirty and the edges were frayed, but the material was sturdy. If cut in wide strips, it should be strong enough to support a person's weight. At least, she hoped so. She cut, ripped, then did it again.

It didn't take long to reduce the blankets to broad strips. Jessie asked, “Are you good at knots?”

“I can tie the sort that won't slip,” he assured her. “Just a moment.”

Muscles straining, Daniel wrenched at the iron bars. He staggered back a step when the crumbling wood surrendered and the welded unit of metal bars came away in his hands, but caught his balance quickly. “Done!”

When removed from the window, the bars and their frame formed a heavy metal grate. As he leaned the grate against the wall, Jessie said, “That was quick!”

“The wood was very bad,” he explained. “Your husband isn't a very good plotter.”

She bit her lip to keep from swearing that Ivo wasn't her husband. Unfortunately, in the eyes of the law he was.

She moved to the open window and looked out. The drop was sheer and the waves hitting the cliff sprayed high in the air. But there was indeed a very rugged-looking ledge running along the base of the cliff a few feet above the current water level.

She judged the size of the window. “I'm small enough to get out, but can you get your shoulders through?”

“I'll have to go through at an angle, but it can be done.”

She looked down again. “We need more rope. I'll cut up my cloak. It's also heavy fabric and it will give us more length.”

“Good idea.” He began knotting strips of blanket together. He tugged each knot after it was tied, then continued. By the time he finished tying the blanket strips, her lovely burgundy woolen cloak, which she'd worn only twice, was sliced and ready for knotting.

Daniel tied on the pieces of cloak, then tossed her both ends. “Pull as hard as you can while I pull from the middle.”

The cell had just enough diagonal length for them to test their improvised rope. “No point in waiting,” Daniel said. “Are you ready? I'll lower you down. I think we have just about enough rope to make a loop at one end for you to set your feet in.” He tied in the foot loop as he talked.

Jessie peered out the window again, feeling dizzy. The distance seemed twice as far as it had earlier. For an instant, she wondered if it would be wiser to wait for Ivo to return and let him scream off his insults.

No. He was too unpredictable. If he was armed and turned violent, heaven help them. She might deserve to pay for her sins, but Daniel didn't.

She moistened her dry lips. “I'm ready.”

Daniel tied one end of the rope to the metal grate, then knotted a loop on the other end. “The grate will make an anchor when I go down. First put your right foot in the loop. I'll lift you onto the sill with your feet outside and hold the rope while you slide out and get a firm grip and both feet in the loop. That should keep you secure as I lower you down. Can you manage?”

Reminding herself that her task was easier than his, she said with as much firmness as she could manage, “I can.”

He caught her gaze, his changeable eyes as steely gray as the waves below. “Jessie,” he said quietly. “I won't let you fall.”

“I know you won't.” She wrenched her gaze away, not wanting him to see her fear. She knew he wouldn't let her fall. She would trust Daniel with anything. But she still felt the chilly distance that Ivo had caused between them.

Daniel wasn't her husband. He was more than that.