The Viscount Returns (7 page)

The bindings had long since chafed and her shoulders were stiff and ached for relief, but nothing pained her more than the burning pain in her body. She had faced this before and had nursed herself through it. So why would no one leave her to her own pains again? Not even Ruth would come to her aid? How anyone could be made to stay in this confinement was beyond her and when her husband returned heaven help him.

"Husband? Ha!" Fiona mocked. If only the courts of England did not leave her an open victim to him. If he had only stayed away two more years she could have submitted for divorce based on abandonment.

Hearing the hallway door open and close, Fiona rolled her shoulders back, trying to bite back the shakiness she felt in her face and hands. She would not let him see her defeated. She was a Viscountess and no one would defeat her, least of all her husband.

"Well, if I had known you would be wrapped up and ready for me I probably would have come sooner."

The pinched voice sent a chill down her spine. It was a voice she hoped never to hear again, not since that night Stevens dragged him from her room by the collar. Turning her neck to the doorway, Fiona squinted against the failing light of day to see the bastard leaning arrogantly with his arms crossed and his mouth broken in a half smile.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Trying to pull out of her restraints. She sobered up quickly seeing him again.

"I told you I would return for my payment." Crossing to the fireplace, he took a poker and stirred the dying embers, igniting terror in Fiona's gut when she saw the look on his face in the newly ignited light. He was every bit the monster she remembered.

"I owe you nothing! And you would be wise to leave now before my—"

Pouncing on her and shoving his hand over her mouth, he snarled, biting her cheek.

Biting down on his hand, she twisted in her restraints, trying to fight him off, but her body was still too weak from the drugs. The wet trickle of blood fell down her cheek and Fiona was soon fighting for breath in her terror.

“Shh.” Smooth tones he spoke to her like a demented lover rather than her rapist. “I learned from last time that you can't keep quiet and this time I will not allow Stevens to take me from what is mine." Slowly, he licked the red teeth marks he had left. "I told you before that you owe me and that unless I collect one way, then I will go to the courts and see you left in debtor’s prison and your son lost in work house with no name or title to protect him. With so many lost ones he will be just another dirty face among hundreds and Robert’s title and family name will be lost.” Her stomach dropped in fear, knowing that his threats were not empty.

“Now, if I were you I wouldn't risk testing me.” Stale rancid breath stung her eyes and Fiona could not hold back the tears. “This is not a veiled threat. I mean every word of it and any magistrate will agree that you owe me over two years of back pay. Do you know what happens to women with your beauty in prison? The guards whore them out and I know that you would be very popular." Planting a sloppy kiss on her neck, he took in a long whiff of her scent. "Now, I know you are not only in need of money, but by judging from your appearance you are probably still in need of your tonic.” With his other hand he trailed a finger down her neck and into her lace collar, cupping one of her breasts with a firm hand, making Fiona’s stomach turn. “I would be happy to help you with both. All you need to do is agree to my offer."

Biting down on his fingers again, she took a quick breath to strike out with a scream but was gagged with a dirty neck cloth instead.

"My patience is wearing off. I will have what is mine." Opening his britches, he released himself already partly erect and moved for the hem of her gown. "Remind me to thank Ruth for taking such tactics in your cleansing. Although I do like how pleasant you are with your tonic, I appreciate the freedom this gives me."

*  *  *

The setting sun crested on the horizon. They had taken the whole day, but it was well worth the time. Robert had never known the peace or fulfillment that could come from having a family of his own. Never had he seen his father filled with the paternal pride and warmth that he felt watching his own son drive the carriage home. What he felt was almost overwhelming, but he was more pained and ashamed for missing this over the years. Perhaps if he had stayed things would have worked out? Knowing now what he had left behind. Perhaps he would have never known Allen and Strong Bow, but was it really all worth it? He could never deny who he was and whom he craved, but now he would also never deny being a father or the Viscount.

In the fading light it was hard to see all the damage and neglect that the manor house had suffered over the years. Haloed by the sunset, the manor gave the impression of what it once looked like in its glory days and that was the moment Robert knew deep in his gut that despite all the years and pains his family and marriage had suffered things were not lost. Filled with hope and pride, Robert and his boy rode up the drive to find that they had a visiting horse tied off in the front. A fine ride with a custom saddle that he would know anywhere.

“Where is that Cockscomb?” Robert roared, bursting through the front door. Ruth scrambled out of the kitchen, wiping her hands clean.

“My Lord? What is the matter?” She was dusted and had the look of the garden on her.

“Jefferson! Where is he?” Burning from head to toe, he was ready to tear the man apart.

“The steward? I would never expect to see that rotting beast again.” Her response was odd and confusing. Did she know that he had been stealing from them? “Not after what he did last time…”

Last time? Did she confront him over their missing funds? A question he would have taken the time to ask if only he did not want to waste time. Passing her and heading straight for his office, he pushed the door open, slamming it into the wall and announcing his presence to an empty room. Next came the study and library, both of which were empty as well. Where was he and why did he choose this time to make an appearance? Either he had come to steal more from Roberts’s family or he had learned of Robert’s return and chose to come clean.

Pacing the library, he tried to think of where he could be and what had finally brought about his return. Looking up at his grandfather’s dirk mounted on the wall, Robert envisioned how far this rage could take him. A thump from overhead rattled the chandelier. Looking up, watching the brass fixture sway, he answered his questions in terror. The only person who should be above this room should still be tied to her bed so someone else and unwanted had to be up there?

“Ruth! Ruth!” he called out to the stunned woman still standing in the foyer. “Send Sprout to find Stevens and then keep my son away!” Taking two steps at a time, he did not pause for an answer.

Reaching the second floor, he pushed away the fear of what he would find. Her door was third from the stairs and nothing could be heard from his side of it. Did he dream up his worse fears? Perhaps he was looking for something and Jefferson was down at the mill? Or perhaps this was a result of Robert being away in his journeys too long and what he would find on the other side of the door was more of a betrayal from his wife than criminal brutality of his Jefferson?

“You would be wise to leave now before my—” No doubt that was Fiona and she was not in the throes of passion.

Whatever was said after that he did not bother to hear. Instead, he carefully sampled the knob and learned that the door was locked from the inside. There was no noise to suggest that anyone noticed whatever was happening on the other side of the door. Going for his own room, he ran for the saddlebag that still sat on his window seat and pulled free the hatchet stowed in the bottom.

Putting an ear to the connecting door, he heard what finally sent him over the edge and was a volcano erupting with rage.

“Your cunt is dry and tight! Maybe I should fuck your arse instead and teach you to be more...” There was no denying that it was Jefferson he heard. The bastard should start to pray that Stevens arrived before he scalped him.

The wall exploded with a crash and Robert came charging through. Seeing his former steward on top of his still bound wife he saw only red and launched himself at Jefferson. Taken by surprise, Jefferson was pulled from Fiona’s body and tossed to floor.

“You bastard! How could you?” Robert screamed, digging his knee into the man's chest. “After everything I did for you? After everything we shared! How could you?”

Answered with choked and struggled breaths, Jefferson fought against Roberts’s massive body, but only managed flailing arms that gave him no defense. All color drained from his face when he saw murder in the Viscount’s eyes. He knew that death would come soon. Robert was pulling at Jefferson’s hair with one hand, while holding the hatchet over his head with the other. Fighting at the knee that threatened to collapse his chest, Jefferson saw his end coming in one swift swing.

"No! No!" Jefferson finally found his voice and screamed for his life. "Please God, no!" He desperately tried reaching for the weapon. "Mercy! Mercy! Dear God! Mercy!"

Flying from the hinges, the hallway door fell and Stevens was across the room with Ruth running to Fiona’s aid. Grabbing a hold of Roberts’s hand, he was in time to stop the hatchet from making its cut. Not a breath was taken before Jefferson fought back in his defense, knocking Robert on his back. Readying to take a second swing, Stevens grabbed his arm from behind, lifting Jefferson up till the socket popped, followed by his screams of pain.

“I told you to leave my Lady alone and that if you even breathe in her direction I would snap your neck.” Stevens twisted the man’s arm, having no resistance from the fallen shoulder. He was burning with rage and fighting back his need to kill.

“What are you saying?” Staggering to his feet, Robert looked from face to face in desperation.

“You know nothing of what this man is capable of.” Squeezing his hold tighter, Jefferson cried out again in pain.

“I know enough! He stole from me and all of you! Taking the food from your mouths while I thought you all were living off of my hard work.” Taking a swing, his fist slammed into the man’s gut, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to roll back on his feet, pulling his dislocated should further out of joint. His eyes rolled back and Jefferson tried his best not to pass out for fear that they would finish him off.

“You don't know the evil that this man is capable of.” Stevens’ voice dropped and the warning tone froze Robert’s blood. Staggering away from his former steward and Stevens, he grasped for the closest chair to steady himself. The realization was almost more than he could bear. Looking up at his wife, he saw her beaten body under the care of Ruth and suddenly realized what monster he had left his family with.

“This is not the first time, is it?” It was spoken more for his benefit than anyone else. He realized that he had failed his family, staff and friends as a provider and protector.

"No, sir." Dropping his head in shame, Stevens confessed.

"Tell me!" The Viscount demanded through clenched teeth.

Tossing the crumpled man to the floor, Stevens kicked him in the ribs before he had a chance to right himself. Rolling over in pain, the villain held his side with his one good arm, while the other hung limp. Coughing for a clear breath, he tried to call out whatever lies he could to his former boss.

"I was only trying to protect your family from them," Jefferson cried. "They were stealing everything they could get their hands on. Everything you sent me they would steal from the mouths of your wife and son."

There was no stopping the blow that met Jefferson’s body when Robert collided with him. Once again Robert had the villain in his hands, beating him within an inch of his life. Screaming for Stephens to pull the Viscount off of him, Jefferson’s pleas were not answered. Crying out for help, Ruth stopped the men where they were. It was clear something was wrong with his wife and Robert abandoned his attach on the bleeding scum to run to her side. Fiona was still and her lips had started to turn blue. The neck cloth used to silence her had been forced down her throat in her attempts to scream. Struggling to pull it free, Ruth cried out for help.

"No! My dear Lord. No." He breathed out the first prayer to escape his lips since he was a boy. "Please do not take her."

Pulling at the cloth, he could hear the rattle in her throat, she was not gone yet, but if nothing was done it would not be long. Rolling her one to her side, he gave her back three firm blows, pulling the cloth from her mouth. Fiona coughed and struggled for air. Color began to come back to her and Robert held her in his shaking arms, tucking her head beneath his chin, giving him leave to kiss the top of her head between every heavenly thanks he praised. He had come so close to losing her for good.

Distracted by their relief, everyone had forgotten about Jefferson now struggling to push himself up from the floor with one limp arm hanging from his dropped shoulder. One eye was swollen shut, the other much the same and a very broken nose to ensured that he would not go far for the shear fact that he could not see his way out, much less pass by them unnoticed. Nor did he see the man approach him.

Stepping on the hand that Jefferson had been holding himself up with, Robert took pleasure in grinding the toe of his boot into the tender digits.