“Who—” She wetted her lips. “Who are you?”
The form emerged from the darkness, and it was that of Lord Strathmore. His fair coloring was twisted with hate into something she could barely recognize.
“Stop struggling,” he sneered. “You are wasting your time. ‘Tis useless because you cannot escape me," he said.
“Release me.”Her wrists felt raw against the rough rope that tied her,and she tried not to shiver at the coldness that seeped through her clothes. The fear that she was naked clamped her heart tight. For once, she looked down and realized that her body was not unclothed, but instead of her cotton nightgown and sensible wrapper, she was clad in beautiful silk nothings.
“Where are my clothes!”
“Those unsightly things? I burned them. You needn’t have them anymore.” It was dim, but she saw when he flicked out a scroll, the writing on it as sinister as his sneer. At the end, she saw her name scribbled down as if she signed herself over to him.
‘‘We are married now,” the Marquess grinned wolfishly. “You are mine.”
“I sold myself to you?” She gasped. “How can that be? I told my parents that I want nothing to do with you!”
He leaned in with a wicked grin. “Your parents had no such constraints. They gave you over to me. I own you now, so be a good little girl and submit to me. Aren’t your clothes glorious?”
“You enslaved me with silks,” Rachel felt her stomach sink.
“And satins,” he leered. “As I promised.”
Coiling in repulsion, Rachel nearly screamed. “Let me go. I do not want to be with you.”
He leaned in and cupped her breast. “Are you thinking about that riff-raff painter you thought you would be with?Him?”
“Yes, release me!”
“He is a pauper and will never do good by you,” the Marquess sneered. “Are you a glutton for punishment? He will make you work for scraps of bread.”
“But he loves me. I would rather that than be bound with jewels, silks and bon-bons,” Rachel said.
His laugh was mocking and scornful. “Foolish girl. I will teach you that love is worth nothing. I am and will be your future, to the day you die!”
She tugged her wrists again to find that the rope had turned into iron manacles, clamping down on her soft flesh. Strathmore grinned. “No knight in shining armor is going to come for you. You. Are. Mine!”
Rachel jerked awake with a terrified gasp. Her heart was thumping out of rhythm, and as soon as she got her bearings together, she checked her body. No silk dress, no rope, and no manacles.
Slumping back to the pillows with relief, Rachel realized the precarious position she was in. The Marquess had not proposed marriage to her yet, but it was inevitable. Any day now, the ax would drop, and she would be tied to the man she was dying to get away from.
She gazed with dulled eyes at the plain walls of her bedroom and the simple eye-let curtains resting against the closed windows. With a stark jab of clarity, Rachel realized how contrary she was. When she had wanted silks, they had been withheld from her, and now that they were being offered, she wanted nothing to do with it.
As she sat up and fixed the pillows behind her, she had the pressing urge to find William and just sink into his arms. She wanted to hide away from the reality that was soon to come upon her.
But how long would I be able to hide?
Slipping out of her bed, she padded to her washstand in the annex room and washed her face and mouth before donning her wrapper and her slippers. She left the room through one of the many side doors she used to get to the garden.
The rains had left the walkways wet and slippery, but she inched her way to the gazebo. She sat behind a thicket of shrub that hid her from the main house and gave her some privacy. Her eyes landed on the steps where William had kissed her, and she warmed.
As her dratted luck would have it, she had found her heart’s desire at long last, only not to be able to have it. It was so easy to think that fate was plotting against her, tipping over any chance she had to find happiness and love. The dream about Strathmore still rested heavily on her mind and dragged a sigh from her.
Curling into herself, Rachel wrapped an arm around her knees.
“Are you cold?” William asked.
She lifted her head and gave him a wan smile. “No…how did you find me here?”
“My room has a perfect view of the garden,” he gestured to the house behind them. “Remember? I saw you and Lord Strathmore once.”
