He was aware he was digressing, not wanting to get to the difficult part so he took a deep breath. “The problem was the pain. It was immense, and the doctors gave me laudanum. It did help. I cannot blame them, but there is something strange about that medicine. I started to crave it, not just for the pain but for the utter oblivion it gave me. I took more and more – more than they prescribed. The more I took, the more I felt…free. Free from pain and my face, free from the thoughts of my imprisonment, free from everything. But it seems nothing comes without a price, and when I wasn’t taking the stuff, I felt…frustrated, angry, and so irritated. Then came the hallucinations – always fire, always burning me alive – so I took even more and I dreamed no longer. Days went by that I do not recall at all…”
Caught up in his memories, he flinched at the sudden touch of a hand. She had placed her slim fingers over his own, which were gripping the reins so tight they’d gone white. He relaxed and rested his head atop hers, breathing in the scent of delicate rose.
“And…?” she asked softly.
“One day, I couldn’t find my laudanum. I suspect my mother removed it to help me, but I was so angry. I don’t remember the knock on the door. I only remember seeing Billy; he’d brought up my dinner. I asked him where my medicine was and he just stuttered, to my eyes, with utter uselessness. I just…I was so irate and desperate and my skin felt… I can hardly remember the details now. Only emotions and images. I hit him. A smack, but with my strength, it sent him to the floor and he lay cowering, frightened of me. And then, suddenly I just…I saw the scene as though outside myself. I was able to see the monster standing there, looming over Billy, that monster I’d become and I vowed in that moment…I vowed to cage it. It took me a year to finally stop the laudanum.”
“A year?”
“I was too far gone to just stop. I tried but couldn’t do it. I had to lower it gradually, little by little. Every week, slightly less in my wine, but even that wasn’t enough. My body still yearned for the foul concoction. I found that I also needed…a purpose, a reason to carry on, and so while I was recovering, I read all I could about healing and medicine – to become a surgeon.”
He paused, aware he’d said more than he’d meant to and yet not enough. “So, to answer your question,” he continued, “I keep Billy around to remind me. Even now, I still feel the pull of the laudanum, especially when my mood is low. When this happens I look for Billy, and it reminds me of what I did to that boy, of the monster I really am.”
Silence met his confession, and he wondered if perhaps he had been a little too open. She turned in his arms and he saw the tears glistening on her cheeks.
“Oh God, Rosalind, I didn’t mean to make you cr–” She placed a finger on his lips, stopping his words.
“No, Lucas, not the monster youare, but only the monster you became under the influence of an insidious medicine. I believe everyone has a weakness. It’s just that not everyone is exposed to that weakness in their lifetime and so they may never be tested by it. You were, Lucas. And you bested it; it shows courage, determination and strength; it shows–”
He couldn’t bear it any more and he kissed her fiercely. Unlike before, he couldn’t keep it gentle and soft, and his large hand moved to the back of her head, fastening her to him.
It was sensual, hot, urgent, and she tasted of salty tears, roses and brandy. Tongues met as she returned his kiss with recklessness, and he let go of the reins with his other hand so he could feel her silky hair tangle around his fingers. He brought that hand under her nape and felt her shiver with his touch. He couldn’t get enough; he couldn’t get closer and his hand drifted lower to her waist, pulling her nearer, her breasts crushed to his chest.
Kissing along her jaw, he found his way to her neck and did what he was longing to do – he buried his face deep and breathed in the scent. But her fragrance was not enough and soon he tasted, his mouth pressing open kisses and nips to her neck and the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.
Her hands were in his hair, the beaver hat knocked off and forgotten as he recaptured her mouth once again. Rosalind shifted on his lap, her lush rump grazing him with delicious friction, and he couldn’t withhold the low groan. He’d thought his past had beaten desire and lust from his body, but evidently it had just been waiting for the right woman and now it surged through him in violent waves.
“God, Rosalind, I…”
Suddenly the horse reared and Rosalind screamed as a rifle shot ripped through the trees. He swore he felt a rush of air against his cheek. Grabbing hold of the reins with one hand, he fixed the other around Rosalind’s waist, stopping her fall.
“Tuck against me.” Panting from the kiss, his voice gruff, he steadied Goliath with his experienced command and spun the horse away from the direction of the shot, his body now protecting Rosalind. He turned his head but there was nothing. Had it been a stray poacher? Or was the rifle being reloaded? Clutching her close, he flicked the reins hard. First he’d get Rosalind away.
Lucas used his knife to prise the bullet from the tree in which it had lodged. There was nothing special about it: a normal bullet. Whoever fired it could, in theory, have been poaching deer or shooting pheasant but missed. Alternatively, someone wanted him dead, or at the very least warned away.
After seeing Rosalind safely to the Hall, he’d returned to survey the area. The bullet had been easy to find as he’d felt the faint breeze of it and now he followed the trajectory. There were no discernible footprints on the covering of leaves in the vicinity and he strode back to his horse frustrated. At least he’d found his discarded hat.
If it had been deliberate, he and Rosalind must have made a passionate picture, wrapped around each other atop a goddamn horse. What had he been thinki–
“Mr Risley. What a coincidence.”
The man turned, his eyes tired and worn, his boots and trousers muddy. Indeed, he looked as though he’d fallen in a bog. He didn’t appear to be carrying a rifle. “Major,” he acknowledged.
“Out walking?”
“No, I’m…” The man paused and Lucas waited. “I can’t just sit and do nothing. I’ve searched our house for my daughter’s ring but it’s nowhere to be seen. I thought I’d search the woods. In case she dropped it, or it was…”
He didn’t need to finish. Lucas understood. The need to do something.
“Have you seen anyone else in the woods?”
“Only the vicar.”
“Really?”
“There’s a shortcut from the vicarage to Stonebridge Hall. I believe he’s calling on the earl.”
“I don’t know that route.”
