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She was alive. Alive. And he would find her and make that bastard sorry he'd ever even spoken her name.
"Help her," Bess whispered, shocking Hart. He'd forgotten she was there.
"I will."
The woman choked on a sob. "She wronged you. I know that. But she's not a bad person. You must help her."
Pushing aside his need to do violence, Hart reached out to take her hand again. "I promise to find her and to keep her safe. I promise."
"Bless you."
Hart offered a false smile. Bless him. Or damn him to hell, for he was about to commit murder.
"I will freeze out here," Emma snapped, trying to wrap herself in the oiled skin that was supposed to keep the damp from seeping into her nightdress. It wasn't working. She was wet and cold and enraged. The ropes around her wrists and ankles had set fire to her skin.
Matthew looked little better. His red nose set off the crimson that shot through his eyes. '"Tis your fault, so shut your braying mouth."
"You're a murderous bastard." The slap that landed across her cheek was almost a relief. The cold was numbing her from the outside in. She needed reminding of her hatred before it seeped completely away into the damp ground.
"A modest woman minds her tongue," Matthew said through clenched teeth.
"Even in the face of evil?"
"I will not be judged by you. I have a higher judge—"
"Oh, and how did you explain my uncle's death to your Lord?"
The rage dropped away, leaving his face limp with regret. "That was an accident, I told you. I never meant for your uncle to die."
"You caused his death with your selfishness."
"I am sorry for that, Emily—"
"Don't call me that. My name is Emma. And I want to go home."
"Your place is with me."
"You killed my only family! You might have killed Bess. And now you think I will be your wife? You are even madder than I thought."
"In time you will—"
"In time I will murder you in your sleep." She kicked out at him with her bound legs and caught a solid blow to his hip. "Untie me!"
He lunged at her, grabbed her shoulders and forced her to the ground beneath him. "You want me to untie you? If I untie your legs, I will be between them, do you understand? Is that another sin you want on my head?"
"Matthew," she sobbed, afraid for the first time since he'd dragged her out of her home. His hips pushed into her. A rock dug deep into her back. "You're hurting me."
"You have hurt me for years. I love you, Emily. Despite all you've done, all your sins, I still want to honor you with marriage." His eyes closed against pleasure as he thrust himself against her. "It is . . . It is the only way I can redeem myself. By . . . redeeming you." His hands squeezed her tighter, bruising her as she wept quietly beneath him.
"Please, Matthew."
"And if I untie you, I will want to rub the marks the ropes have left. And then I'll. . . I know you have been wicked. So wicked. Men have t-touched you. Ah. . . Please Lord, I must not let her sin again. We must be married . . . Oh. Oh, Emily."
He shuddered above her, and she vowed not to mention the ropes again. She'd already worn her fingers raw trying to work them free. She wouldn't risk worse injury at his hands.
"Emily," he was choking on her name, sobbing as he rocked back to rest on his knees. He straddled her, pinning her down; she couldn't escape the blow when it came. "Why are you so bad? A temptress worse than Eve. But I will save you. I'll save you. When we marry, my soul will be clean and I will lead you to the Lord. A man is the shepherd of his family."
Emma turned her head and stared at the grass swaying inches from her face. The pitiful fire illuminated only those blades, beyond was pure blackness. How long before he truly raped her? It would take days to get to Scotland, more than a week if she was able to slow them down. How long before he attacked her, how long before he beat her half to death for tempting him into fornication?
