“Dead?” Father asked casually as if all this made perfect sense. “We’d found the perfect specimen for my experiment, freshly dead and frozen for preservation. I was certain we’d brought home a vagabond or thief. I never imagined that we would find such an innocent, beautiful girl beneath that wool cover. After months of watching Zander walk circles in the yard and talk to stone statues, I knew I did not have an impressive specimen to show Baron Rowntree. If anything, I worried that Zander would scare the baron and his pocket of gold away from here forever. Then I saw my opportunity lying in the back of that creaky wagon.” He chuckled. “My vanity wouldn’t allow me to believe that I had failed completely. I had to try my theories on a human corpse.”
Jane shifted uneasily on the settee. “Please, I can’t listen to anymore.”
“Do not fret, my dear” Father said, “nothing is at is seems. When I pressed the two probes into your skin, I heard a faint cry. I looked up at your face and your lashes fluttered. Then you sucked in a breath. You were very much alive. You’d lost a great deal of blood, and the shock of your ordeal had rendered you unconscious. The freezing temperatures of the frozen pond had slowed your heart rate and breathing so much you were blue with death. The warmth of the laboratory revived your pulse and heart rate. I stitched the hole in your side and covered you warmly. It was not long before you were conscious.”
Jane hugged herself as she absorbed the news.
Angel scrubbed his face with his hands and slouched back speechless. Deep inside he felt a surge of relief but he also had to keep himself from reaching over and grabbing his father by the throat. “You are truly a spawn from hell. Why did you not tell me?”
“Greed, of course. Once again luck had fallen my way. Jane had no memory of who she was or her former life. My own son had been a witness to her death.” He looked at Angel with little remorse. “You had stormed out of here that night without knowing any differently, and I decided not tell you. I had my new, far more perfect, specimen for Baron Rowntree.”
“But your notes,” Jane said quietly, “I saw your notes.”
“All fiction. I wrote them to give to Rowntree for further proof.” Father rested his head back. “So now you both know. I hope you can forgive me someday. I have no excuse for my behavior, and I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused.” He released a long, shuddering breath. “I don’t have the strength to walk upstairs. Leave me and I’ll sleep down here for the night.”
Jane stood from the couch and hurried from the room without a word. Angel stared at his father whose eyes had fallen shut. In front of him sat a man he once thought he knew. Growing up, he remembered an intelligent, charming, even lighthearted father, but greed and power had ruined him like so many others.
Angel got up and walked to the liquor cabinet. He pulled out the bottle of gin and headed upstairs. There was so much to sort out in his mind, he didn’t know where to begin. But he hoped the gin would kick him in the right direction.
Chapter 31
Jane woke to a woman’s cry. Confusion at the surreal events of the past few days had exhausted her. Following Dr. Van Ostrand’s overwhelming confession, she’d climbed into bed and fallen into a thick, impenetrable sleep.
Still befuddled, she looked around her room and tried to decide if she’d actually heard the cry or if it had come to her in a dream. Hurried footsteps and an anxious knock at Angel’s door assured her she had not been dreaming.
Ellie’s worried voice echoed down the hallway. “Master Angel,” she called and knocked again. Jane sat up. She heard Angel’s door open.
“It’s your father,” Ellie said anxiously.
Jane crept from her bed and opened her door. Angel swept past pulling on his shirt. Ellie followed with a severe look of concern. Jane hurried to dress, but the quieter the house got, the more certain she was of what she would find downstairs.
Ellie and Angel stood in the drawing room looking down at the figure on the couch. They had placed a blanket over him. Dr. Van Ostrand looked amazingly peaceful in death. His chronic headache was gone. He’d relieved himself of his burdens before dying quietly in front of the fire.
Jane walked over and took hold of Angel’s hand.
He squeezed her fingers. “Crazy old man,” he sighed.
***
Jane absently rolled the biscuit dough out on the table. Three weeks had passed. After two deaths, the household had fallen into a somber quiet. While it was obvious there had been a great deal of resentment between the two, Angel dealt with his father’s death like any son.
Deep down she still loved Angel, but she couldn’t bring herself to rekindle the warmth and intimacy they’d once shared. There had been so much betrayal and so much upheaval; she could not reconcile her head with her heart.
Ellie’s soft chuckle pulled Jane from her reverie. “I’ve seen that expression before.”
“Pardon?” Jane asked.
“I may not see more than a foot in front of me but I can spot a dreamy eyed stare. And it can only mean one of two things— you’re either thinking about a man or you’re thinking about home. Heartsick or homesick. Or a little of both perhaps?”
Jane smiled and scratched the tip of her nose with her dough covered fingers. “You should take up the fortune telling business, Ellie. Your intuition is positively uncanny.”
“Well, you’ve been here a long while. And a great deal has happened since you arrived. I figured you were probably missing your home. Not that I want you to leave. In fact I’ll be downright distraught when you go.”
Jane pressed the rolling pin down and leaned forward across the dough. Ellie knew just about everything that went on beneath Greystock’s roof, but she still knew nothing of Dr. Van Ostrand’s scheme. She still believed Jane to be a visiting relative.
“Actually, I was thinking more about the man than my home. Truthfully, Ellie, I’m not really wanted at home. But lately I have considered returning. There is some unfinished business I need to take care of.” While Jane still had large blocks of time missing from her memory, one person stood out from her past, her stepmother. And after all she’d been through; Jane felt she now had the strength and courage to face the horrid woman, even if the witch had already squandered her father’s fortune. Unfortunately, she lacked evidence to prove that her stepmother had conspired in her attempted murder, but Jane still felt the need to confront the woman.
Ellie smiled down at the onion she was cutting. “Speaking of the man, Master Van Ostrand has a surprise for you this morning.”
“Really? What is it?” Jane asked.
“He asked me to dig out his mother’s riding habit. It’s in your room. He’s been out in the stables all morning grooming a horse and cleaning a saddle for you.”
Jane barely waited for Ellie to finish. She dropped the rolling pin on the table, plunged her hands in the wash basin and then raced upstairs to change.
Jane felt like a nervous, young girl going to her first dance as she hastily dressed in the navy blue broadcloth riding habit. The snug fitting, well-tailored coat had military epaulettes and silver buttons. It smelled of years of dust and was out of date. Jane had never been so excited to put on anything in her life. Dear Ellie had even remembered to lay out some leather gloves which she slid on so hastily she ended up with two fingers in one finger of the glove. She held up her hand and laughed as the empty pinky flopped over like a dog’s ear.
While most of her recent memories were bleak, she could clearly remember riding horses and loving it. Every time she’d wandered down to the stables the urge to ride had been immense.
The riding boots were a bit too big. She nearly broke her ankle racing down the stairs, but she would have dragged her broken foot behind her if need be. She reached the yard. A dazzling early spring sun reflected off the thinning layers of snow and ice and standing in the center of the yard was the most breathtaking sight Jane had ever seen.
The white of Angel’s wide grin was something she’d missed these past few weeks. H
is long black hair curled up on the shoulders of his top coat, and his warm brown gaze smiled back at her. He held onto Titus’s bridle and the other hand gripped the leather reins of the gray dapple mare.
Jane raced on slushy ground and wobbly boots to where he stood and greedily took the mare’s reins from Angel’s grasp.
He laughed. “I guess this means you like the idea of taking a ride.”
She patted the mare on the neck. “She’s perfect.”
“Her name is Ronnie. She’s a bit rusty but I think you’ll find her trot smooth as cream.”
“Please give me a boost into the saddle, Angel. I can’t wait any longer.”
She lifted her foot to step in his hands, but he had a different method in mind. His strong hands grabbed her waist, and he lifted her up and onto the saddle. “This was my mother’s sidesaddle . . . obviously,” he said with a smile. “It’s a little stiff but it’s well made.”
The leather creaked beneath her bottom as she adjusted her position and found her stirrup iron. The reins felt right in her gloved fingers.
Angel mounted his horse then looked back at her. They’d spent little time together since the string of tragedies. Angel had spent a great many hours in the drawing room with his gin and cheroot obviously reflecting on things and Jane, when not spending time with Ellie in the kitchen, had spent an equal amount of the past days in her room reading and doing some reflection of her own. Now his heart stealing smile and the soothing tone of his voice made her realize how badly she’d missed spending time with him.
“Angel,” she said quietly.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for this.”
“But we haven’t even ridden yet.”
“I know,” she said, “but once we get going I’m going to be so excited I’ll probably forget to thank you. So thank you.”
He laughed and reined Titus around. “Let’s go then.”
***
The stout horse picked up a brisk trot, and Jane’s wild laughter filled the air. Strands of her silky auburn hair brushed across her face as she prodded the horse faster. Her violet eyes sparkled in the daylight and her cheeks flushed pink in the cold air. Angel could have kicked himself for not allowing to her ride earlier. Of course, it had only been a few weeks since the specter of his father’s grotesque trickery had been lifted.
Angel spent the weeks following his father’s alarming confession and premature death wavering between rage at his father’s fraud, sadness at his loss, and shame at being made an utter fool by the man. For months he had dragged along, weighed down by his father’s sickening scheme, only to discover that it was all a lie. The truth had brought a flood of relief, but his father had allowed him to go on believing the farce even when he saw that it brought his son misery. That caused him more pain than anything.
Jane rode ahead and smiled back at him. “Ronnie does have a lovely trot.” She turned back around and patted the horse’s neck.
Angel pushed Titus to catch up to them. “You are a natural. You must have ridden a great deal.”
They slowed the horses to a walk.
“I remember riding all the time with my father when I was a young girl.” She brushed a long strand of hair off her lips. “I had a beautiful black horse named Rex. He was so tall my father had a step stool made just so I could climb on his back.” She glanced out at the fields. “There was no fence high enough to stop us one we got going. Rex and I were quite the team.”
She grinned wistfully and fingered the mare’s mane. “After my father died, my stepmother sold Rex.”
Icy rage shot through Angel every time he thought of the murderous stepmother. “Why did she sell him?”
Jane shrugged but there was never self-pity in her tone when she spoke of the cruelty. “After my father died, Rex was my one true joy so she sent the horse away. I’ll never forget the day. It was a warm spring morning, and I’d skipped breakfast to take a long ride. Being out on my horse was the only way to escape the coldness inside the house.” Jane sighed. “Edward, our stable manager, looked close to tears when he broke the news to me. He left our employment soon after that.”
“Obviously the woman was without conscience or moral fiber but why would she try to have you killed?”
Jane fell silent for a moment, and Angel regretted asking her such a personal question. “I’m sorry, Jane. I don’t mean to pry.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that for the past few weeks, as much as I loathe even thinking about the woman, I’ve been trying to piece together what might have caused her to take such drastic actions.” A small laugh escaped her. “For a short time, I’d even convinced myself that I might have been the cause of her hatred. I wondered if I’d been a monstrous girl growing up. Perhaps I’d been selfish and ruthless too. But I could not scrape up one memory of myself behaving spoiled or impolite. Unless, of course, I’ve blocked all of it from my mind.”
“That is not possible, Jane. And that is probably why the woman hated you so much. She was the darkness to your light.”
“It was money. My father’s will was clear. The entire estate fell to a distant cousin, but the man was never in the country. He had an accountant who came to check on the books and see that the estate did not fall into disrepair. The will provided my stepmother with a small allowance as long as she took care of me. Then upon my marriage, my husband was to receive a large amount for my dowry. My stepmother would then be at the mercy of the distant cousin. That angered her to no end.” Jane looked at him. “I know it sounds daft, but I think I must confront the woman some day. I don’t even care about the money, and I know I can never prove that she hired a man to kill me. But I must face her one day.”
“We’ll face her together when you are strong enough. I won’t let you near her alone.” Truthfully, he’d been plotting to go see the woman soon on his own, but clearly, Jane needed to come face to face with her demon and he would be there to protect her.
They rode until the sun disappeared behind a layer of rain clouds. Angel squinted up at the sky. “I guess we better take the horses in. It looks like rain.”
John met them as they returned to the stables. He reached for Jane’s reins. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to brush her and put her away myself, John.”
Angel nodded at him. “We’ll both take care of our own horses. Why don’t you go inside. I think Ellie was baking biscuits this morning.”
John happily complied with his orders.
“It felt so good to ride again,” Jane said after a few minutes of silence. She ran the brush vigorously over the horse’s back. “Thank you again.”
Angel leaned against Titus’s shoulder and watched Jane attend to every detail of grooming. As usual, the lithe movements of her body had him mesmerized. He wondered if she would ever allow him the intimacy they’d once shared or if he would have to die in torment without ever touching her again. He walked Titus to his stall as Jane returned the mare.
For a moment they stood there completely alone in the warm moisture of the barn gazing at each other intensely as they had so often before.
Jane tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. “Well, those biscuits sound rather tempting after that long ride.”
The word tempting struck Angel hard, but it wasn’t the biscuits his mouth watered for.
She smiled coyly and walked past him. There was no thought behind his actions. They were purely instinctual. Angel’s arm reached out and wrapped around her small waist and he hauled her back against his chest. She didn’t struggle against his grasp but instead relaxed her head back against him.
He lowered his mouth near to her ear. “I want to fall asleep every night with your naked body cradled against me. I want to wake up to your incredible face every morning. Be my wife, Jane. Marry me.” Having her pressed so firmly against him, he could no longer stop himself. He spun her around to face him and lowered his mouth over hers for the kiss he’d been longing for. She melted in
to his arms. “My life is over without you,” he breathed against her lips.
Her hands reached up around his neck, and she brought his mouth closer again. “My Angel, my love,” she whispered and kissed him again.
Angel lifted her into his arms and carried her to the ladder leading up to the loft. Without word or hesitation, his sweet temptress climbed the shaky ladder and stood in the center of the hay loft with a heated look that made him nearly lose control. He pushed her up against the rough wood wall of the loft and pulled at the buttons on her jacket. He pushed it off her shoulders and his mouth dropped instantly to the sheer fabric of the blouse beneath. Instantly her nipple hardened as she pressed her breast against his mouth.
She fumbled with the fall of his breeches, giggling softly at her clumsy fingers. His erection sprang free in the cool air of the loft, and he pressed it against the folds of her skirt. Her hand reached down and her long fingers wrapped around him. He moaned against her breast as she slowly stroked the length of him.
He inched the skirt up over her knees and then her thighs. He paused and smiled down at the handfuls of fabric in his hands. “We really must buy you your own clothes. Something about this is disturbingly wrong,” he groaned as he slid his swollen manhood between her warm, supple thighs.”
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
“Believe me, Sweeting,” he said hoarsely, “I have no intention of it.”
He lifted her and drove into the tantalizing moisture of her nether lips. Bracing her against the wall, his hands wrapped beneath her bottom. She held him tightly and wrapped her legs around him as he plunged deeper into her sweetness. Her legs tightened around him and a soft moan fell from her parted lips. Angel watched her face as waves of ecstasy shuddered through her body. She clutched him tightly as his hips moved faster. Small cries of pleasure rushed from her lips with each urgent thrust until he exploded inside of her.
Angel lifted Jane into his arms and plopped down on a pile of straw. He smoothed the hair off her forehead and kissed her face.