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Desperately, she looked up at him, seeking some sign he might relent. But while his face conveyed anguish and turmoil, there wasn’t the slightest hint of hesitation.
She took an unsteady breath. “I stole nothing.”
His fingers flexed against the sleeves of her dress. “You stole yourself. Now I have stolen you back. And I’ll never let you go.”
She gave a broken cry and wrenched free of him. “This is impossible. You must see that.”
“No. It is my will.” He moved after her as though he tracked a wild animal.
She backed away, horrified by how certain he sounded. If she stayed any longer, she might start to think he made sense.
Then she noticed he’d neglected to shut the door behind him when he’d arrived. With frantic speed, she dove for the entrance. A half second too late, he leaped after her. She felt the shift in the air as he lunged to catch her.
But she reached the door first and slammed it after her. She dashed down the staircase and across the entrance hall. She had a fleeting impression of rows of dead animal eyes watching her run past. Then she was tugging at the bolt on the massive front door.
Sobbing, she struggled with the heavy iron latch. The duke was nearly upon her. She heard the approaching thud of his boot heels on the wooden steps.
The door swung open just as he jumped and hit the floor a breath away from her. She flung herself out into the darkness with no clear idea where she went apart from her overwhelming need to escape her pursuer.
Chapter 11
A tangled mass of shrubbery crowded against the side of the house and offered hope of sanctuary. Verity would have made for the woods if she thought she could outrun Kylemore over the open area she needed to cross first. But even in her panic, she knew better.
Skittering on the damp grass, she scrambled into the bushes. Twigs and thorns tore at her hair and dress as she pushed her way toward the center, only stopping when the branches became an impassable barrier.
She huddled into a ball, trying to make herself invisible, although no one outside would be able to see her through the undergrowth and the darkness. She tried without success to control her sawing breath.
He was near. She couldn’t hear him or see him, but the prickling hairs on her skin told her he was watching, waiting for her to betray her position.
“Verity, come out,” he eventually said. As expected, he was very close. “There’s nowhere for you to go.”
He sounded like a reasonable man when he used that coaxing tone. Once, she might have believed that was what he was. No longer.
The gossip was right. All the Kinmurries were mad. The duke’s thirst for revenge threatened to make him the maddest of them all.
She shrank deeper into her hiding place and didn’t answer. A chilly trickle of water ran down her nape, but she didn’t dare move to wipe it away.
“The night will turn cold, and it’s going to rain again.” He hadn’t shifted. Curse him, he must have seen her tunnel her way in.
As if he read her thoughts, he said, “I know just where you are. There’s a hollow at the heart of the shrubbery. I grew up here. There are no secret places for me in this glen. It’s useless trying to escape. There isn’t a nook or cranny or bolthole for miles I haven’t already found and used.”
She supposed he’d played pranks like all children and found hiding places. Strange to imagine him as a little boy. She didn’t think she ever had before. Her momentary distraction ended abruptly when she heard an ominous rustling.
“I’ll come and get you if I have to. Or you can come out of your own volition. But you’re not staying outside.”
As her breathing calmed, the blind fear that had sent her on this pointless flight subsided. And it was a pointless flight, she saw now. Where could she go? It was the middle of the night. She wasn’t dressed for travel. She had no provisions or money. She hadn’t a clue how to get out of the valley.
Kylemore sighed. “All right. I’m coming in.”
“No,” she said tonelessly. “No, wait.” She couldn’t bear the thought of him dragging her out kicking and screaming.
Defeat replaced her earlier crazed fury and she was aware of every snag and scratch on the way out. Wet, muddy and smarting from a hundred small abrasions, she crawled into the open, but nothing smarted as much as recognizing her stupidity in running away from him like that.
She needed more than hysteria to escape the Duke of Kylemore. Hadn’t she tried to leave him after a year of hardheaded planning? And that had only landed her squarely in her present predicament.
In spite of her chastened obedience to his bidding, she faced him without cowering. “I won’t sleep with you.”
“Yes, you will.”
