Bittersweet Obsession
Jane walked to the window and looked out over the crystal white landscape. A thin, nearly translucent layer of snow had covered the countryside. She had little to wear to protect her against the cold and had no real sense of direction but she knew there was a wheel-worn road just past the estate. It had to lead to a village or town because Angel had traveled there. She would leave this house at the first sign of morning light and never look back. She had no idea where she would go or how she would survive, but she knew she had to leave Greystock Manor for good.
***
Angel sat in front of his unlit hearth smoking a cheroot and taking large swigs of gin, all the while trying to decide if he was a senseless fool or just plain mad. He couldn’t decide if he felt more rage at his father or at himself. Most of all, he wondered how he could have possibly sent away the one piece of paradise he had in his life. Up until the moment Jane walked into the drawing room that first day, his life had been a never ending hell filled with only anger and suicidal thoughts to pass the time. But Jane was the opposite of everything dark and bleak. She was light, and sweetness, and heaven. For days he’d blocked the sinister details of her arrival and allowed himself to live with the fantasy that happiness had finally found its way into his life. He’d fallen so completely in love with her, the truth no longer mattered.
Angel tossed the cheroot into the hearth and emptied the bottle before throwing it into the stone hearth as well. It shattered into hundreds of pieces. Amber shards of glass scattered over the mounds of grey ash. He grabbed his coat off the chair and walked out. He stopped in front of Jane’s room. It was quiet inside. He badly wanted to knock and apologize, but it would be impossible to explain himself. Jane could never know what his father had done that night after they’d pulled her frozen, lifeless body from the pond. Angel had hurt her badly today, and the pain he felt in his chest was unbearable. He stormed out of the manor. He would ride Titus until one of them, either he or the horse, dropped from exhaustion.
An empty stomach and gin soaked brain guided him mindlessly to the stables. Ellie, Lettie, and John were just carrying in the last of the goods.
Ellie was nearly without sight and yet she sensed his drunken state immediately. She shooed Lettie and John along to the house. “Master Angel, do you think it wise to ride in your state of inebriation?”
Angel felt the landscape sway from side to side as he attempted to stay upright. “Titus is perfectly sober, I assure you.”
Ellie snorted in disgust. “How is your father?”
“Still insane I imagine. I haven’t seen him.” He turned to leave.
“Master Angel,” she called.
He turned around so abruptly it took him a moment to regain his bearings. “What is it, Ellie?”
“’Tis nothing really,” she glanced around to see if the others had reached the house. “It’s just that we were in the apothecary’s shop buying your father’s medicine.” She paused and waved a hand. “’Tis nothing really.”
“I believe you said that. What is it Ellie?”
“Well, you know how that man Bitterman likes to talk. It is just that he mentioned that a stranger had been through town twice looking for a young girl with auburn hair and violet eyes. I figured it was just coincidence.”
The gin was taking its toll, and Angel’s head felt heavy, but her words felt as if she’d thrown ice water in his face. He stepped toward her and she took a small step back.
“Ellie, did you mention Jane?” The woman looked frightened, but he couldn’t control the harshness in his tone.
She shook her head. “I didn’t say a word.” Her face dropped. “But Lettie—” She peered up at him. “You can’t blame the poor girl. She doesn’t know any better.” She paused again.
Angel grabbed her arm none too gently. “What did she say?”
“Just that the girl sounded like Dr. Van Ostrand’s relative, Jane.”
Angel dropped his hold on her and she rubbed her arm. “Forgive me, Ellie. As you said I’m drunk. Go inside. It is cold.”
Titus had not been out in several days and seemed quite ready for a hard ride. Angel lowered his body over the horse’s neck and kicked him into a gallop heading in no direction in particular. He had no urge to watch a fighting match or have a roll with Ruby. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. He slowed Titus to a walk as they reached the frozen pond. The cracked ice had refrozen and the cloudy surface looked stable again. The hole, obviously a local man’s fishing spot, remained. A shudder ran through him as he recalled the grim sight of Jane’s wrapped body floating in the icy water. He had cursed his father repeatedly that day, and he did so again today with the same vehemence.
Titus’s massive hooves pawed in the snow. Angel patted the animal’s neck. “You’ve not had your fill yet?” His boot barely grazed the horse’s side and it jumped into a gallop. Dusk swallowed the afternoon’s light, and the newly fallen snow obliterated the path but Titus knew the way to the village by instinct. Angel would let the horse spend his energy and then head back home. The ride was clearing the alcohol from his head, but it was not healing the chasm in his heart. There was only one way to fix that.
When Ellie had told him of their visit to the apothecary, he was instantly terrified that somehow he would lose Jane forever. It was at that moment he knew could not survive without her. Surely she despised him but he would work hard to regain her trust.
The house was quiet as he walked up the steps. Hunger gnawed a hole in his stomach and his head hurt from the cheap gin. He walked straight to the kitchen. Ellie was leaning over the table sipping a cup of tea and seemingly lost in her thoughts. She heard him immediately.
“I’ll fix you a plate,” she said.
“Don’t go to any trouble. Just cheese and turkey from earlier if you still have some.”
She put a drumstick and a hunk of cheese on a plate and pushed it in front of him.
“Did no one come down for supper?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, indeed. Zander still sleeps soundly.” She smiled. “His snores nearly rattled his door off the hinges.”
Father seemed to have decided that a slumbering giant was far less of a nuisance than an awake one. His tonics grew stronger with each dose. “And Jane?” he asked with nonchalance but just saying her name sent a rush of emotion through him.
Ellie shook her head. “She did not feel well. I brought her in a tray and she cleared her plate, but she didn’t want to leave her bed. Poor thing. This has not been a terribly pleasant visit, I’m afraid. She’ll be wanting to go home soon, I’m sure.”
Angel could not bear thinking about that scenario. He would let her sleep tonight in hopes that with time she would consider speaking to him again. The prospect of losing her sent ice through his veins. In the morning he would beg her forgiveness.
Chapter 22
As the layers of night peeled away, the chill brought on by a new morning sent a shiver through Jane as she lowered her face and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. The fatigue she felt from a nearly sleepless night made the slog through the snow even harder. As she propelled her feet forward, it felt as if someone had filled the kidskin boots with lead. Her heart felt heavier than her feet, and the trek down the deserted road seemed more daunting than ever. Twice she looked back at Greystock Manor. Not to see if she’d been followed but to ponder whether she should head back and slip into her room and bed. But the heartbreak she’d endured the day before was still acute, and she forged ahead with her plan, although it was more of a whimsy than a plan.
The evening before she’d feigned illness and felt the guilt of it when she saw the look of concern in dear Ellie’s face. But the woman’s spirits were revived when she saw that the supper tray she’d carried into her had been emptied. Rather than eat the bread and cheese, Jane had wrapped it up in small hand towel so she would have food on her journey to the village.
Jane had crept from the house with the first rays of light and slipped out unseen while t
he others slept. Even outside she seemed to be one of the few creatures up and about at the early hour. The sky overhead slowly evolved from gray to pinkish blue and aside from a patch of dark clouds hovering in the distance, it seemed a sunny, albeit frigid, day would prevail. The trail ahead looked long, lonely, and white.
Large wings swooped dangerously close and Jane ducked instinctively as the massive shadow passed over and disappeared into a tree. Jane attempted to keep her feet in the narrow trenches created by carriage wheels but her toes were numb before she’d even reached the first curve in the road. She glanced back. Greystock Manor was no longer visible, and she swallowed back the sadness in her throat. Even if she had no place to go, the farther she was from Angel Van Ostrand the better.
The road was still deserted and Jane scrunched down beneath her hooded cloak. Somehow it seemed that if she could almost make herself insignificant in the vast, barren wilderness, she’d be invisible to the hungry wild animals, wild-eyed vagrants, and knife-wielding murderers that lurked within its shadowy borders.
Jane traveled along at what she considered a respectable pace for someone with frozen feet and little to protect her from the cold. For having withstood the ravages of winter, the road was still well-defined and she found it easy to follow.
The surrounding silence was shattered by a loud snapping sound, and Jane twisted around praying silently that she would not find herself facing down a fanged animal. A large ice-burdened branch broke free from its trunk and fell to the bed of snow below. Jane sighed in relief.
She felt relaxed enough to take her satchel of bread from her cloak pocket. She nibbled the hunk of bread and wandered along the path, her mind occasionally drifting to the intimate moments she’d shared with Angel and how wretched she felt when he’d turned cold so abruptly. She wondered if he would come looking for her and then laughed away the thought. He was no doubt pleased to be rid of her. She was certainly better off without him. She only hoped that once she reached the village she’d be able to find a magistrate. Perhaps someone out here in the middle of nowhere could help her find her home. Perhaps someone at home was missing her.
There was nothing harder than heading toward a destination with no real knowledge of how far that destination was. Jane squinted up to the sky at what appeared to be a mid morning sun. She had no real way of knowing the time, but it felt as if she’d been traveling for several hours. Aside from squirrels and ravens, she’d seen no other signs of life. One thing was quite clear, Angel Van Ostrand had not ridden out to find her and that thought stuck in her craw for the rest of the morning.
She plodded along clumsily on numb feet and aching legs. Hunching over against the cold had caused a wretched stitch to grow in her side, and she stopped for a moment to stretch, hoping to alleviate the pain. She took a moment to allow herself the luxury of feeling the sunlight on her face when she heard boisterous laughter and the creaking wheels of a wagon in the distance. Two men, farmers perhaps, spoke loudly as they urged an old plow horse along the road. Jane decided that they did not look particularly friendly or sober.
She dashed off the road to a copse of trees hoping to hideout as they passed but then, to her horror, she heard one of them call out.
“Did you see that, Jimmy? I saw a wench go running into those trees just now. She might be the one they’re looking for.”
“You’re seeing things again, Will,” the other man answered.
Jane sighed with relief and stayed tucked behind a tree trunk as the wagon rumbled slowly from side to side.
One of the men hung over the side of the wagon. He pointed at the snow. “See, her tiny tracks are right there in the snow. I smell a reward.” The wagon stopped.
A gasp caught in Jane’s throat, and she looked around frantically for a better place to hide. There was no place. Running was her only chance. Hopefully they were too filled with drink to put up a good chase. Jane lifted the hem of her dress and took off.
“Hey, where are you going?” a voice called from behind.
She didn’t look back and ran as quickly as her sore feet could carry her. The icy air made breathing difficult. She jumped successfully over a fallen log only to have the back hem of her dress snag on it. She heard material rip as she threw out her hands and braced for a jarring fall. Her palms and knees smacked the frozen ground. Tears stung her eyes as she pushed to her feet. The only sound she heard was the sound of her labored breaths squeaking from her chest. Her pursuers had given up their quest.
Jane stood for a moment to slow her pulse and allow the pain in her knees to subside. She glanced around and realized she was standing deep in a forest surrounded by nothing but trees and snow. She refused to panic. She was not completely sure how far she’d run or how far she’d traveled from the road. Her footsteps would lead her back. The last few steps were clear and easy to spot. She walked back over them but it was not long before she lost sight of her tracks.
Jane looked up at the sky hoping to get her bearings from the position of the sun. She trudged along in what she hoped was the right direction. A wicked wind had whipped up, and it blew through the trees and stung her eyes.
She took refuge behind a thick tree trunk, hoping the bitter winds would subside, but they only seemed to grow in intensity. Sunlight no longer filtered through the winter-bare trees, and the sky filled with dark clouds. Jane looked around and when she spotted a familiar piece of fabric hanging off a fallen tree she came to the horrifying realization that she’d been traveling in circles. She crouched down, wrapped her arms around herself, and wept.
As the first flakes of snow fell on her, Jane dropped down to her bottom in surrender. The irony of it all made her nearly smile. Her death seemed inevitable now. She’d been pulled once from the ice with a hole in her side and had survived only to meet the same bitter end. Only this time death would come slower. She actually pined for a hole in her side now so she could go quickly.
She closed her eyes and lay down in the pillow of snow forming on the ground when an angry hand seized her arm. The men had been remarkably quiet in their state of drunkenness and she marveled at how calm she felt about being caught. After all, the alternative had been freezing to death. Perhaps her wish for a speedier end had come.
The man who held her glared down at her with two beady black eyes and a lopsided and horrifying grin. He reeked of alcohol and sweat and his craggy face was coated with grime. “You gave us quite a run, girlie, but the reward will be worth it.” He yanked her to her feet and glanced back at his equally grimy and only slightly less decrepit partner. “Told you it was her. Just look at those eyes.”
Jane swayed with dizziness and her legs ached with cold. “I don’t know where you think this magical reward is coming from, but I assure you no one will pay for my return.”
An awkward laugh rumbled from his throat. “Don’t bother lying to me, my fine little prey. Everyone knows about the reward, and it looks like I’ll be getting it.’
“What about me?” his partner protested.
“You too,” the man grumbled but with little conviction in his tone. His filthy fingers dug into her arm. “Let’s go. And I’ll truss you up like a deer if you try to run.”
Jane stumbled behind and decided they were just drunk enough to have dreamt up the idea of a reward. “So this generous reward-giver, where did you meet him?”
“Well, I haven’t spoken to him personally, but we hear he’s dressed smartly and rides a fine horse.”
“Oh, well, that must be the prince again,” Jane said lightly. “I’ve told the man over and over again that I don’t want to marry him. Perhaps you should just take me to the magistrate, and he’ll help you locate your reward.”
Her abductor yanked her forward. Jane stumbled but he kept her from falling. “Perhaps you just keep your pretty mouth shut, and Jimmy and I will decide what to do with you.” There was an ugliness in his tone that sent a cold feeling through her. She had taken her capture lightly at first, but her intuition now told her t
hat she was being a fool to have taken it so blithely. Her survival instincts surfaced and she tried to pull her arm free from his iron grasp. It was futile and her attempts only caused him to tighten his grip.
He scowled at her and the look in his hideous face alarmed her. “So you’re wantin’ to be tied up.” The revolting grin returned. “My pleasure.”
Their underfed horse stood on the road with its head dropped low and its muzzle nibbling at the snow searching for any remnants of food.
Even with her physical strength waning, Jane was resolved not to end up in the cart. They stopped at the wagon, and Jane threw the fist of her free hand at her captor’s face. He ducked easily out of the way and her knuckles landed with a jarring thud on his shoulder. He grabbed hold of her free hand and had both of her wrists securely pinched in one of his hands. For a man who’d appeared quite sodden with drink, he had remarkable reflexes . . . and strength. Jane winced as the tiny bones of her wrist felt close to snapping.
The man scowled at her and turned to his partner. “Get the ropes.”
Jane struggled harder but it was useless. A sudden, lecherous gleam in the man’s eyes sent a wave of nausea through her. His fingers still holding her wrists securely, he slammed her up against the side of the wagon and leaned toward her. His snake-like tongue poked out from behind brown teeth, and he licked his lips hungrily. Jane shut her eyes tightly as his face neared hers. She kicked her leg out at his knee but her limbs had been so weakened he merely laughed at her pathetic attempt. His vile breath made her head spin more and she felt close to retching. Then through the horror-filled haze she heard a familiar voice.