Wild Heart (27 page)

“So do I, Fran. So do I.”

The constant drip from the ceiling was Leo’s only companion. Over and over, he listened to the sound…focused on that noise and pushed aside the memories of a past life…chained in a prison similar to this one in India…a whip lashing across his back, burning the flesh from his bones until he thought he’d go mad. Perhaps madness had already found its way into his brain. Perhaps his days with Ella had merely been a dream.

For hours, he’d beat his fists against the door, until hands bloodied; then he’d collapsed into a pile on the stone ground. Sitting against the wall with his knees pulled up, he rested his head in his hands, barely cringing when the contact stung his raw skin.

But every time he closed his eyes, scenes flashed through his mind. Ella, waiting for his return. Ella being killed by the very men she trusted. Ella, his love, his heart and soul. Helplessness washed over him and tore a roar of pain from his throat. The animalistic sound echoed across the stone walls, and he half-expected monkeys to scream back in response. It couldn’t be over. She couldn’t be dead. Surely he’d feel her death—surely his soul would have withered and died with her.

He slammed his fists onto the stone floor, and pain shot up his arms. No, she still lived. He clung to that hope, and a rush of strength made him stumble to his feet. He’d break the bloody door down splinter by splinter if he must. He gripped the bars on the door and pulled. They didn’t move. Groaning, he rested his head on the cool metal. His cousin couldn’t win.

A soft thud rent the air. Leo stiffened, straining to hear. Had he imaged the noise, or were they finally coming for him? The soft thump of footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. Leo jerked back into the shadows. With his back pressed against the damp, chill rock, he waited…waited for his captors to enter his prison. He heard the screech of metal against metal. The door creaked open, and a tall, dark shadow appeared in the opening.

Leo tensed, his fingers curled at his side. His heart raced in his chest, and adrenaline pumped through his veins. He’d have this one chance to escape. The man stepped inside, and Leo lunged. As if sensing his presence, the intruder turned right before Leo landed on him. Solid mass hit solid mass, coming together in a thud of grunts. They fell to the floor, and Leo didn’t hesitate to slam his fist into the man’s gut.

“Stop, damn it,” the man snapped.

Leo lifted his arm, his fist poised above the man’s face.

“I’m here to help you.” It was an American accent the man growled in.

Leo stilled and narrowed his eyes. In the dim light, he could just make out the man’s features. The man from the ball who’d watched him dance. “Talk.”

“Mind getting off me first? This is cozy and all, but really.”

Leo pushed away from the stranger and stood, his body poised between the man and the door. He should bolt while he could, but for some reason he hesitated.

The man stood, dusting off his trousers. “I’m Archie’s son.”

Shock held Leo immobile. “Colin.”

The man grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. “Yep.”

Leo shook his head. “How? How’d you find me? What do you know?”

“I’ve been watching you for some time now, both you and Ella.”

Leo sank against the wall. “What—”

“All in good time, my friend.”

Leo stood there, too shocked to move. But as he studied the man before him, even in the dim light, he could see the similarities. “He talked about you often.”

Colin’s grin fell. “Yeah, well, he also mentioned you a few times in his letters home.”

Leo raked his hair back from his face, still too confused to think rationally. “I don’t understand.”

“Come on.” Colin swept past him and out the door. “I’ll explain on the way.”

Leo followed, swallowing hard as he stepped into the hall.

Free. He was free to find Ella. “We must get to my grandfather’s estate.”

“I know.” They slipped down the dark corridor, the air chill and damp. Not a sound resounded from above, the household fast asleep.

“After your…well…your little show you put on upstairs, the ball ended early.”

“How’d you open the door?” Leo whispered as they made their way up the steps. A dark form took shape, curled on the hallway floor. A body, Leo realized.

Colin stepped over the unconscious man. “Picked the lock. You’d be amazed what a person can learn when they’re left destitute.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Surely Archie hadn’t left his wife and child with no means of support. “What happened there?”

“The man?”

Leo nodded.

“He’s the one sent to kill you and make it look like an accident.”

Leo clenched his jaw, ice forming around his heart.
Merda
, he’d go back to the estate, rescue Ella, and then kill Henry.

Arrogantly, as if he belonged in the bloody house and had no fear of being caught, Colin swept toward the front door. “My father sent his journal to Ella a couple days before the attack. He survived long enough to send me a letter explaining everything.”

He threw the front door wide, and they rushed outside. The wretched air, thick with stench from the Thames, was a welcome relief. The morning was too early for even the fishmongers selling their wares, and an unnatural hush settled over the city.

“Explain what?” Leo demanded as Archie’s son hailed a lone carriage.

Colin turned to him. “That together, only you and Ella hold the key.”

The sudden slowing jerked Ella into consciousness. Straw poked at odd angles into her back, and she groaned, pushing herself up to brush the hay from her hair.

“Here, miss,” the driver called out.

Like bony fingers, black branches arched against a star-filled sky. Dizzy with exhaustion, she pressed her hand to her head and slipped from the back of the open wagon.

“You sure you’re well, miss?”

Ella glanced at the old man, hunched over the reins, his features barely visible in the night light.

“Yes…yes, I’m fine.” She pasted a smile upon her lips. “Thank you for the ride. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Sure thing,” he lifted his hat to her and then slapped the reins. The wagon creaked and screeched as it bumped down the dirt road.

Ella took in a deep breath and pushed through the gate. She never thought she’d be here again, and now she’d returned to beg for assistance. Tossing aside any hesitation, she raced up the gravel path, not even stopping when a pebble found its way into her boot. Ahead, the large Georgian mansion looked anything but welcoming against a black sky. This place had been her home for years, so why did a shiver of unease race down her spine the closer she got? She stumbled up the wide, shallow steps and pounded on the door. A sudden burst of barking made her jump back. A dog? When had Lady Buckley gotten a dog?

She narrowed her eyes and focused on the animal. Angry, bent on protecting, on destroying, forced to be mean…the animal’s feelings rushed through her in heated waves. He’d been beaten, and he still was. She calmed her racing heart and poured love and calmness into the animal. Through the doors, she heard him whimper and felt his body ease. A second later he became alert right before she heard the thump of footsteps. The door was jerked open, and Cammie stood there in her night rail, the housekeeper’s face tired and haggard.

“What in bloody…” Her eyes widened. “Ella?”

Ella rushed forward and hugged the woman. “Yes, it’s me, Cammie.”

Cammie remained stiff, her arms at her side. “What in God’s name are you doing here?” She didn’t hug Ella, but stepped back.

Ella brushed off the hurt she felt at her less than warm welcome. “I need Lord and Lady Buckley, quick, Cammie.”

Cammie shook her head. “Lord Buckley is gone. In London, I believe.”

Ella waved her hand through the air. “Fine, Lady Buckley.” She stilled. “Why aren’t you in the kitchens? Where’s John? Why in God’s name do you have a dog when they make Clara sneeze?”

“John was dismissed.”

Ella’s mouth dropped open. Old John? The kindest butler she’d known?

“As far as Clara, Lady Buckley’s children were sent to London with their father.”

“But, why?”

She glanced over her shoulder, then focused on Ella. “Doesn’t matter. You should leave too. Go, Ella, while you still can.” She started to push the door shut, but Ella stuck her foot in the way.

Annoyance mixed with fear. Shaking her head, Ella continued, “Get Lady Buckley, and hurry.” Ella pushed past the woman and slipped into the hall. What had happened since she’d been gone? She settled her hand near the black dog’s snout and allowed the pup to lick her fingers.

Cammie shut the door, her shoulders slumped. “Go on to the parlor.”

“What are you doing here?” The familiar voice cracked through the silent house, and Ella’s breath caught. She turned to see Lady Buckley standing at the top of the stairs. The dog’s fear swept into Ella, and he cowered beside her.

“I…I need your help,” she said, looking down at the mutt, her brows furrowed in confusion. Why was he so afraid of Lady Buckley? Her words were cruel as a whip, but surely the woman wasn’t the one who beat him.

“Cammie, tea,” Lady Buckley snapped out as she made her way down the steps. The servant scampered from the room, her head down. “Come,” she said, sweeping past Ella and into the parlor. She wore a white wrap over a white night shift. Never had Ella seen the woman in her night clothing, and the look didn’t soften her. Reluctantly, the dog circled the rug in front of the fireplace and lay down.

But Ella was too anxious to sit and instead paced the room. “I need your help.”

Lady Buckley settled in a chair, her back perfectly straight, and quirked a gray brow.

“I mean, please, I need your help.” Ella fell to her knees in front of the woman. “You are the only one I could come to.”

With an arrogant tilt of her chin, the woman said, “What is it?”

“Leo…the man I’m tutoring, he needs help.”

“Man?”

Ella flushed and dropped her gaze. Suddenly, she felt a child again, evil and impure. Every single sinful thing she’d done with Leo flashed through her mind. No, she wouldn’t think of their time together as sinful. Besides, there was no doubt in her mind Lady Buckley knew Leo was an adult. “Yes. I didn’t know until I’d accepted.”

“And you couldn’t leave?”

“And go where?” Ella snapped, jumping to her feet. Immediately contrite, she gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand.

Blast, she’d come to ask the woman for help, not make things worse.

Cammie shuffled into the room carrying a silver tray, her eyes downcast. Ella sank into the chair across from Lady Buckley. She wanted to rush to Lady Buckley, grab her by her round shoulders, and shake a response from her. Instead, she waited, her body stiff, as Cammie poured the tea. The servant curtsied and then left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Well,” the woman finally said. “I see your manners have not improved.”

This time Ella didn’t flush. Damn the woman; didn’t she realize how important this was?

“Go get that box on the bookshelf.”

Ella stood and rushed to the shelves, eager to do anything if it would help Leo. Barely visible in the dim light, she stood on tiptoe and pulled the wooden box from the shelf. She rushed back to her chair and set the object on the table.

Lady Buckley handed her a cup of tea. “Drink, restore your strength.”

Ella sipped the warm liquid, cringing as it burned down her sore throat, and watched as Lady Buckley opened the box. What in God’s name was the woman doing? She resisted the urge to tap her foot impatiently.

“Do you think it all coincidence, Ella?” the woman asked as she shuffled through the box.

Confused, Ella shook her head. At her feet, the dog whimpered. “I…I don’t understand.”

“Lord Roberts…the estate…you going there.”

The words sank heavy into Ella’s mind, and a cold chill raced down her spine. She swallowed hard. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

The woman shook her head and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. “Silly girl. And I thought you were smarter than that.”

Ella couldn’t breathe. Her gaze darted to the closed doors, and her mind began to swim…thoughts swirling…rushing through her head. Her stomach churned, and she felt the dog’s anxiety race through her. Her gaze dropped to the mutt. He watched her with wide, brown eyes…sad eyes.

“Did you think coming here when you were a child was mere coincidence?”

Ella jumped to her feet, but the room spun and her legs refused to hold her weight. Her knees gave out, and she sank to the ground, her right ankle painfully twisting as she fell. The dog whimpered, his nose, wet and cold, nudging her cheek. She wanted to comfort the animal, but couldn’t seem to move her hands. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Lady Buckley. The woman sat in her chair, relaxed, the small book in her lap.

“Nothing is coincidence. We know about you, Ella. The world knows. Some think your power and the information you hold is too valuable, and set out to destroy you. It’s why the first orphanage was set afire, to get rid of you and the evil you possess.” She held up the book, covered with symbols that blurred together. A cross, a lotus, a God and others she couldn’t quite identify.

“No,” Ella whispered, closing her eyes. She couldn’t look at the woman for fear she’d get sick, and so instead, she focused on the throbbing pain radiating up from her ankle.

“We saved you, Ella. Brought you here.”

“Why not just kill me?” Her words came out slurred.

“Because, you hold the power to open the map. We’ve been waiting for the right moment, and the right moment is now. You see, I knew you were coming here tonight.”

“I don’t know anything about a map,” she whispered. She could barely hear Lady Buckley over the buzz in her mind. “What did you put in my tea?”

“Just something to make you rest until he comes for you.”

“Who?” Ella whispered.

“I know about your necklace, Ella,” Lady Buckley said, and suddenly Ella could feel the woman’s presence, smell the scent of age, and she knew the woman was close. “But we do not know what the necklace means. You will tell us.”

“I don’t know,” Ella cried out. Had she spoken the words, or merely thought them? She was too weak to know the difference. Gathering her strength, she opened her eyes and found Lady Buckley hovering over her. The woman’s round face was blank, like a statue. No emotion, no love, no sympathy.

“We must keep the power safe, Ella. For God, we must not allow the heathen power to be released.” She turned and stared toward the far corner or the room. “She’s ready.”

Insane. The woman was insane. Slowly, Ella forced her eyes to focus on the corner. A human shape emerged. A dark shadow that slowly morphed into a man. Ella’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest, even as she wanted to scream out a denial.

“No,” she whispered.

The man leaned over her, his eyes glowing an eerie, familiar green, and she knew she was going to die. They were the same eyes she’d seen that night of the fire at the orphanage.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and too weak too resist, Ella allowed her lashes to drift down. “Leo,” she whispered as the light faded and her mind went blank.

A fine mist fell from the skies, and a soft fog hovered over the land, the kind that made a person believe in magic and fairytales. Exhausted and his mind just as muddied as the landscape, Leo wasn’t sure if he dreamed and was truly still stuck in that prison, or if he’d actually been freed. His mount snorted and pawed at the ground, as eager as he to leave. Leo patted the animal’s neck and flicked an impatient glance at Colin. Archie’s son handed an innkeeper some coins and then trudged across the muddy ground toward Leo. They’d taken a carriage through London, then, at the outskirts, switched to horses and back roads to keep hidden.

“Did he know the way?”

Colin nodded and tossed him a bag. “We’ve got about six hours left.” He settled onto his own mount, and they started down the damp road.

Lack of sleep made Leo’s head ache, and with each jarring step the horse took, pain shot down his neck. He needed to be alert when he confronted his grandfather and Henry, but anxiety made him eager to race toward the estate.

“Best eat your lunch—you’ll need your strength,” Colin said.

Barely thinking, Leo reached into the bag and took out a loaf of bread. He tore off a chunk and forced it down his dry throat.

“What’s the plan when we arrive?” Colin asked.

Leo released a harsh laugh. “I was hoping you’d tell me. I suppose I confront my grandfather.”

Colin was silent, but Leo could feel his gaze on him, hard, piercing.

Leo sighed and glanced his way. “What?”

“You realize your grandfather most likely knows what’s happened.”

Leo’s stomach churned. Surely he didn’t know about the death sentence Henry had placed on his head. But then…why hadn’t he told him Henry’s father’s name was Will?

“How are your hands?” Colin asked.

Leo flexed his fingers and the dried blood cracked, revealing fresh wounds. “I’ll live.”

They kicked their mounts into a gallop and lapsed into silence. Out of the fog, an old man and little girl appeared as if sent by some form of ancient magic. The girl’s round face tilted up to Leo, and he met her wide blue eyes. Ella’s eyes. Leo swallowed hard. If they had a child, would she resemble the girl? They passed the two, and Leo turned in his saddle, watching until the fog consumed them.

“You know what they’re looking for?” Colin asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Leo turned back around. “A map.”

Colin laughed. “Much more than that, my friend. They’re looking for power, power to control, to heal, to do anything you could possibly imagine.”

Leo’s head snapped toward him. “What do you mean?”

Colin leaned forward and urged his mount faster. “You really don’t know? Any of it?”

“Do I look like I bloody well know?”

Colin raised a brow at his surly tone.

“Well?” Leo demanded, in no mood for secrets.

“The ancient stories say that for every great religion of the world, there is a statue of untold power. And for every one of those statues, there is a keeper, or keepers. Someone who holds the power to use those statues.”

Had he heard him right, or were the fog and exhaustion making them both daft? Leo laughed and shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”

Colin shrugged. “There are a great many things ridiculous in this world.”

“More ridiculous than statues with power?”

“Whether it’s ridiculous or not, all that matters is that they believe it.”

“And you do as well?”

Colin didn’t respond. Leo shifted in his saddle and resisted the urge to cross himself, and he wasn’t even Catholic. “What do you know? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Colin glanced at him, curiosity and amusement in his blue eyes. “She didn’t explain? You didn’t uncover her secret?”

Leo stiffened. “Ella?”

Colin nodded.

“What?” Leo leaned forward, his hands fisted. “What about Ella?”

He sighed and urged his mount faster. “My father was the keeper of the necklace because only he could open the map.”

“What the hell do you speak of? I’m tired of half truths.”

“Are you willing to keep an open mind?” Colin asked.

“Tell me,” Leo snapped, as they crested a small hill.

“My father had powers, Leo. Abilities that no one else had. He could read people’s minds. Know when they lied or not.”

Leo couldn’t find the words to speak. Had no idea what to say. Part of him wanted to laugh. Of course, Colin was mad. Apparently everyone in this blasted country was mad.