Page 46 of The Right to Remain Single

“What a pity your paramour isn’t as clever as you, darling. Not that it matters. No one will ever find the rope. They won’t even look for it, because no one will care.”

“I care about it, and so does Mr. Blakely.” She didn’t bother to deny the assumption that she loved James.

“But you’ll be a ghost, my love, like your dear friend Max, who will get the blame for killing you. Shall you haunt me?” He cackled, slithering around the lip of the well toward her.

He meant to kill her? She edged away, shivering with fear. “But…but why?”

“You shouldn’t have refused to marry me,” he said. “I don’t want to kill you, but I have to get my hands on your father’s money.”

“You’re insane. Papa will never give you his money.” She continued to back away, one hand seeking a gap in the bushes.

“He won’t survive your death for long, and I’m the next of kin.”

Sam reached for her. With one hand gripping the holly, she swung the lantern. It connected with his head. The candle went out, plunging them into darkness.

He cursed. “Bitch!”

She backed away into the box hedge, but it was too thick, resisting her. Desperately, she dropped to her knees and crawled along the edge of the well, found a gap at the base of two bushes, and dragged herself forward.

A hand grabbed her boot. “For that, I’ll make you suffer. I’ve never done a virgin before. Or have you already done it with your Latin scholar?” He tittered. “Either way, you’re mine now.”

She pulled hard on a trunk of the box hedge, inching herself forward. Her boot came off, and she moved forward again, tucking her feet as best she could. The house was visible through a gap. Not much farther…

A hand grabbed her foot and twisted. She screamed.

* * *

The scream tore through James’s heart. “Now, Max,” he panted as he sprinted for the shrubbery. “Distract him. Make him think it’s just you.”

Max soared over the box hedge, roaring.

A crack of wicked laughter sounded. “The ghost has come to rescue you!”

“Max!” she cried. “Get James!”

“Too late,” giggled Sam. “Come back, or I’ll hurt you again. It’ll be quick, Tommie-love. I’ll drop you head first, and after a few seconds, you’ll feel nothing at all.”

Max roared again. Why wasn’t he going for James? “Max, he’s not afraid of you. Go get someone who’s alive!”

The ghost descended upon the well in a blast of frigid wind. Sam cursed, and his grip loosened a fraction. Thomasina kicked it off and scrambled forward. This was her one and only chance.

* * *

James dove through the gap in the hollies. Max ranted and Furbelow cursed. Where was Thomasina? He felt his way forward to the lip of the old well.

“You won’t get away from me, bitch,” Sam snarled from somewhere across the well, and Thomasina cried out again.

James crawled along the verge, feeling his way. The ends of soft, rotting planks jutted here and there, with frightful gaps between them. The back of his hand grazed something—a boot? With a soft rasp, it tumbled away.

“What the devil was that?” muttered Furbelow, just as James took hold of another boot—this one containing a foot. Sam kicked away, hard. James scrabbled for purchase, gripping an old plank, which gave way just as he got a fistful of holly. Swearing, he took hold of the trunk and hauled himself back onto the rim. He waited, listening. Was that Thomasina panting? Where the devil was she?

“Touch me again, Blakely,” Furbelow snarled, “and I’ll let her drop.”

“The Evil One lies,” Max hissed. “Kill him!”

In this accursed darkness, James couldn’t see a thing. “Thomasina?” Grunts and panting sounded from across the hole.

“The maiden is safe,” cried Max. “Quickly, push the Evil One into the well!”