Sea of Desire Page 4

  Damn the woman. When he first saw her in the cell doorway, he felt... what? Relief? Hardly. But a fissure of comfort. At least he wasn’t going to go to his death without talking to anyone but the surly constable and his dim-witted deputy and the foul-smelling cleric. A beautiful woman was certainly preferable to either of them. And Merideth Banistar was undeniably beautiful.

  But hell, he didn’t need this. He was going to hang tomorrow. For a murder he didn’t commit. And he was busy. Trying to decide how he’d let this happen to himself.

  Jared shifted, then settled more comfortably on the hard cot. The spider had made some progress since he’d looked away. Industrious little thing.

  He was ignoring her, hoping she’d go away. Merideth knew it. But she hadn’t come here to leave without an answer. She moved closer to the cot. It was too short for him, and Merideth noticed his boots stuck out over the end. “Why did you come to Banistar Hall? What was your business with my father? And don’t tell me to ask him, because thanks to you he’s dead.”

  “You can drop the pretense of ignorance. I know you’re privy to the information. Lord Alfred told me before he was shot.”

  “What information?”

  Lady Merideth stood over him now, forcing him to look at her, blocking his view of the spider. A shaft of sunlight hit her golden hair and for a moment Jared forgot everything but the desire to pull her down on top of him. That would certainly be a nice treat for the condemned man. But he didn’t think anyone else would agree... especially Lady Merideth. Her mouth was pressed into a straight line.

  Jared shrugged his shoulders. “You needn’t worry. I’ve decided to take the Banistar secret with me to the grave.” Actually, he’d decided it would do him no good to confess Lord Alfred’s treason or his daughter’s involvement. Most likely no one would believe him. And even if they did, he’d still hang as a spy. Was it better to die as a spy rather than a murderer? He hadn’t been able to come to any conclusion on that, so he’d decided to say nothing.

  Lady Merideth still had the information the Americans wanted. This way she could contact someone else and make the trade. So in a sense it was damn heroic of him to keep quiet. Now, if she’d just go away and let him dwell on that for a while...

  “What are you talking about? What secret? I want to—”

  Merideth sucked in her breath, stifling the scream. She had never seen anyone move so fast. One minute he was prone, seemingly ignoring her presence, the next he was on his feet, looming over her, backing her against the damp cell wall. His hard thighs pressed against her; his chest was only a deep breath away.

  “Don’t play games with me.” Jared’s words were gritted through clenched teeth. “Your father told me you had the name. You’re involved in this treason just as much as he was.”

  “Treason?” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

  Jared’s brow arched. “You really should consider the stage. You certainly have the looks for it.” His gaze dropped insolently from her face to the rise and fall of her jacket-covered breasts. “And you can act.”

  “Get away from me.” She gave his chest a shove with the heel of her hand, surprised when he moved. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I don’t believe for one minute my father was involved in treason.” As she watched he merely shrugged, as if he didn’t care whether she doubted him or not. He moved to the small window, the violence seemingly drained from his big body.

  She felt dismissed.

  “You’re simply saying that to save yourself.” Merideth marched over toward him. “But it won’t work. No one will believe such a ridiculous lie.” Certainly her father’s reputation hadn’t sunk that low. “I imagine the constable laughed in your face when you—”

  “I haven’t told anyone. And I just assured you I wouldn’t.”

  His eyes held hers, and for a moment—one irrational moment—Merideth found herself lulled by his voice into believing him. Her breathing stopped, and she could feel the pounding of her heart.

  Noise from outside the cell broke the spell.

  Merideth tore her gaze away, and she remembered that Jared Blackstone had accused not only her father of treason but her as well. As disloyal as it may be, Merideth found herself wondering if her father, out of financial desperation, could have entertained traitorous thoughts. She quickly pushed that from her mind. Besides, this man was accusing her of the same deed.

  “What the hell was in your mind, Les? I should kick your ass to Penzance for this!”

  “She done said it was all right,” came an answering whine as the cell door banged open.

  Merideth turned, an explanation on her lips. But she never had a chance to use it. A steel-hard arm snaked around her waist, forcing the breath from her body and dragging her back against Jared Blackstone. From the corner of her eye she caught the glimmer of a knife blade.

  “Either of you move and I’ll kill her,” the man behind her said. His arm tightened. The knife point traced along her ribs. And this time she had no trouble believing him.

  Chapter Three

  “This ain’t a good idea at all, Blackstone.”

  “Oh, I think it has its merits.” Jared gripped the carved knife handle and kept his gaze on the constable and the flustered deputy. He didn’t bother to glance down at his captive. He knew she was scared. Jared could feel her heart thumping against his arm. Well, hell, he was scared too.

  “What we gonna do, Mr. Samuals?” Les was sweating profusely, the perspiration running down the sides of his fat face.

  “What you’re going to do is move away from the door.” Jared kept a firm grip on Merideth.

  “I can’t let you just walk out of here.” The constable was trying to keep some control over the situation, but Jared could tell he was nervous. “You’ve already murdered one Banistar.”

  “So then it makes no difference to me if I get rid of another.” The pinch he gave Lady Merideth made her cry out. Some of the ruddy color left the constable’s face.

  “There’s no call to hurt her none.”

  “Whether or not I hurt her is entirely up to you. Do as I say, Lady Merideth lives to see her grandchildren. Cause me any more trouble...” With a slight shrug Jared let the two men fill in the rest for themselves. Apparently they’d decided to take him at his word, something for which Jared was extremely grateful. He didn’t know what he would do if they called his bluff.

  But the constable took a step away from the doorway, bumped into his cowering deputy, and gave him a shove toward the cot. “Get a move on with you, Les.”

  “You aren’t going to let him get away with this, are you? He killed my father!”

  Jared had momentarily let his grip loosen on his captive—a move he regretted. He didn’t need her arguing against him. Foolish woman. Didn’t she understand what he could do to her?

  With a jerk Jared yanked her up against him. She sucked in breath and hung onto his arm as he backed up, dragging her toward the door.

  “Do something!” Merideth couldn’t believe the constable and his deputy were simply standing there, watching this happen. She tried to dig in her heels as he inched them across the straw-covered floor, but her toes were barely touching the ground. All manner of things she could do to stop his escape ran through her head, but nothing seemed like it would work—not with the knife pressing against her every time she took a deep breath.

  Suddenly it was too late. He lunged backward, out of the cell, pulling her off her feet. Her skirt swished around them and Merideth wondered if she was taking her last breath. But then just as abruptly she was let go. Her momentum sent her spinning against the stone wall of the anteroom as her captor slammed the cell door shut. He turned the brass key, pulling it out and tossing it onto the heel-scarred desk top.

  They both noticed the pistol lying on the desk. But Jared Blackstone had it in his hand before Merideth could push away from the wall.

  He checked the pan, seemingly satisfied that it was ready to fire, and aimed it casua
lly at her.

  “Come along, now, Lady Merideth. We mustn’t tarry.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Merideth tried to keep her voice calm. She raised her chin in determination.

  “Oh, but you are.” He wasted no time slipping the knife inside his boot.

  “I can’t believe the constable didn’t search you before putting you in the cell.”

  Jared glanced up. The dimple in his cheek flirted in and out as he grinned. “Neither could I.”

  As quickly as the smile had transformed the hard contours of his face, it was gone. His scowl made Merideth shiver.

  “You lead the way, your Ladyship.”

  “I said I’m not going.”

  “You have information I want and I’m not leaving you here.”

  Merideth’s only response was to lift her chin higher. Jared clenched his jaw. “It would be a shame to shoot you.”

  “Go ahead. You’ll no doubt do it anyway, and I’d rather die here than—umph!”

  “Hell!” Jared tossed her over his shoulder, ignoring her struggles to get free. Just his luck to pick a defiant hostage. She kicked, her boot coming dangerously close to his groin, and Jared hoisted her higher and tightened his grip on her legs. He stuck the pistol in his pants and brought his hand down hard over her bottom. “Do that again and you’ll be sorry. Now hush up.”

  Merideth could hear Amos Samuals and Les yelling from inside the cell. But her captor didn’t seem to notice. He simply strode to the door. Merideth prayed the yard in front of the jail was packed with people. But apparently it wasn’t—though she couldn’t see from her upside-down vantage—because after a quick glance around he proceeded outside.

  Jared Blackstone sat her on her horse, but before Merideth could brush her hair back enough to see, he grabbed the reins and walked her mare over to another horse, one presumably belonging to Constable Samuals. In a quick, fluid motion he was in the saddle, leading her horse down the crooked, narrow path away from the small hamlet.

  He may have anticipated Merideth’s plan to jump from the saddle, for before she could, he urged both horses into a gallop. It was all Merideth could do to hold on to her sidesaddle.

  There was no sound save the horses’ hooves and the incessant whistling of the wind as they rode along the hills and moors. They passed a stone house, small and low, sheltered by a slight rise, and Merideth hoped to see the farmer or his wife. But they were nowhere in sight. And as they galloped alongside the stone hedge covered with bracken and furze, Merideth realized it was for the best. No simple yeoman or his mate was a match for Jared Blackstone.

  “Where are you taking me?” Merideth called out as they headed off across a field following the footpath.

  He didn’t answer.

  “You’d make better progress without me. I’m just slowing you up.” Merideth waited a moment. “I won’t tell them which way you went.”

  “Be quiet,” was his only response. He didn’t even look around, but simply kept them moving.

  Late afternoon sunlight shone off the white feathers of a gull circling overhead. Merideth was tired. Her muscles ached from the long hours on horseback. Riding had never been something she enjoyed, perhaps because for as long as she could remember, Banistar Hall had not had much of a stable. She’d ridden, of course, but never for this long, and certainly never under such trying circumstances.

  But the agony in her arms and back was nothing compared to the distress she felt in her mind. What was he going to do with her? Merideth felt she could withstand almost anything if only she knew what to expect.

  It had been the same with her father. Once she’d discovered their alarming financial predicament, she’d been better able to cope. It was the unexpected—the surprise—that frightened her the most.

  And she had no idea what to expect from Jared Blackstone. She asked him repeatedly. She asked when they slowed to ride around a stand of wind-tormented hawthorn, its limbs bent inland, nearly touching the ground. When they paused to allow the horses to drink from a small swift-moving stream. When she refused to remount after the horses had drunk their fill.

  But he never answered her. He never even acknowledged that she spoke by so much as a nod of his head. When she crossed her arms, refusing to take his proffered help into the saddle, he simply picked her up and set her there, ignoring her flinch of discomfort as her tender backside met the hard leather.

  Now they were riding through another rock-strewn stream. Rather than crossing it, they followed the current as it made its way to the river. Merideth shifted, her physical and mental agony heightened by every step.

  “I want to know where you’re taking me.”

  Jared snorted and turned in his saddle, the leather creaking. “So you’ve said... numerous times.”

  Startled that he had bothered to respond, Merideth straightened her shoulders. “Then perhaps you will answer me.”

  “To Banistar Hall,” was all he said before clicking her horse to a faster pace.

  “Banistar Hall? But that’s the first place they’ll look for you.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re concerned for my welfare?”

  That wicked grin was back again. Merideth ignored it. “Not in the least.” She couldn’t imagine why she had said that. “I certainly hope the constable apprehends you as quickly as possible.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Jared said, throwing the words over his shoulder as he led her along.

  “Of course I do. You murdered my father.”

  His horse—rather, the constable’s horse—stopped so suddenly Merideth’s mare nudged into him before jolting to a stop. Jared Blackstone’s expression was fierce when he stared around at her.

  “I shall tell you one last time: I did not kill your father.”

  “Do you expect me to believe that?”

  Jared took a deep breath, then shrugged. “I suppose it matters naught what you believe.” After that he started their little procession moving again.

  The sun was setting before Merideth caught sight of anything that looked familiar. They must have taken a very roundabout route to Banistar Hall. As a matter of fact, Merideth was almost certain they’d been traveling in circles most of the afternoon, though she wasn’t certain if it was by design or not. She did imagine it would be difficult for anyone to follow their tracks.

  But then it didn’t really matter if they were followed. Amos Samuals was certain to go straight to Banistar Hall and find them. And even if the constable didn’t come, Merideth knew her way around the manor well enough to get away from her captor. She would even force herself to go into one of the secret passageways if necessary.

  Except they weren’t heading along the path toward the house. They were traveling along the narrow ridge that separated the granite cliffs from the waters of the channel. When they reached the beach he guided them down toward the surf. Droplets sent spraying by the horses’ hooves sparkled in the last rays of sunlight.

  “We can’t reach the house from here. At least not on horseback.”

  “We’re not headed for the house.”

  The caves.

  Merideth knew before he turned the horses that that was where he was taking her.

  The dark, enclosed... mysterious caves.

  The shudder that ran through her was involuntary. As was the image her mind drew from the past. Of a child... a little girl... defying her nanny and climbing down the stairs chiseled in the rocks. To explore the caves.

  It was nap time, but it always seemed to be nap time as far as Miss Alice was concerned... or so Merideth thought. She wasn’t tired. Not in the least. She flopped back on the bed in the nursery in disgust. If anything, she had too much energy. Tomorrow was her birthday. She was going to be eight. And her father had promised to return from London for the occasion.

  Merideth rolled to her side, propping her cheek in her palm. Father said she was growing up, becoming a young lady. But grown-up ladies didn’t nap the day away. At least she didn’t think they should
. Of course, she wasn’t around many ladies, young or old, but she just knew she’d outgrown the need to sleep all afternoon.

  After sliding over the edge of the bed, Merideth climbed down the steps and walked to the window. Sitting down on the window seat, she smiled. She loved to look out over the cliffs to the channel. She imagined if the sky were really clear she could see the whole way to France. Papa went there often, to a place called Paris. And he promised to take her there too... when she became a young lady.

  “But he’ll never think me grown enough if I’m treated like a baby.” Merideth tossed back her pale ringlets and glanced around the small room. It was a baby’s room. It was dark and dreary. Not like the rest of the house, which glimmered and shone. And certainly not like the view from the window of sparkling sky and glittering water. The view that beckoned.

  With a quick glance toward the door to the adjoining room where Miss Alice snored peacefully—she was one grown-up who needed her sleep—Merideth slipped from the nursery. Most of the servants were accustomed to her little forays while her nanny slept, so no one stopped her. And no one noticed when she slipped out of the massive front door.

  As she ran along the cliffs, the sea-scented air blowing in her face, Merideth grew more and more excited about the morrow. A visit from Papa. He was always such fun. He brought presents, but more important, he sometimes took her with him when he visited neighbors, or allowed her to sit with him in the big dining room. Wonderful adventures.

  She found the steps by accident. Crude stairs, hacked in the rocks. Leading down to the beach. To the water.

  Hesitantly at first, she climbed down. She’d never gone beyond the cliffs by herself, and wouldn’t even be this far if Miss Alice knew about it. The steps were weathered, some of them worn away almost entirely by the salt-water-charged wind. And they were overgrown with bracken and tangles of ivy. But the farther down she went, the more anxious to reach the bottom she became.

  “Ouch!” A thorn pierced her skin, but Merideth stuck her finger in her mouth and kept going. The beach was wide and sandy, and the waves broke with sparkling white foam... a silent invitation. With a squeal Merideth stuck both hands into the surf and swirled them around. When her sleeves got wet she pulled them out, fanning her arms in the spring air. It wouldn’t do for Miss Alice to find out she’d come down here.