Chapter Four:
It was no use trying to protest. I was held fast against my captor and knew that I was in great danger. That the reason this man had been so angry to find me watching was for the reason that he had something of great importance to hide. It was the fact that he had killed my fiancé.
It was right around midnight when the carriage pulled to a stop. All I could see was darkness so I had no idea our location. For all I knew, we could be at the Pendleton Mansion, my home. But that of course was dubious.
“Come, Miss Pendleton. We will stay here for the night,” Matthew instructed.
He gripped my arm and jerked me out of the seat causing me to fall into him. I knew this had been done purposely for shortly afterward; my vanquisher carried me against him to the driver.
“Mister Bromley,” the driver scoffed. “Where is my money?”
“I left it in the seat. Thirty pieces of silver just like you asked,” he answered, nodding towards the carriage we had just climbed out of. Then, without prior notice, he began carrying me away from the man and carriage, which seemed to be swallowed by the darkness.
I have no idea how he knew where he was going for I could not see a thing but the darkness around us. In fact, I could not even see the man who was carrying me. It was a cloudy night without stars or the moon to give a way of seeing. It seemed as though the place he was carrying me to would never appear. But then it did.
“I thought you said that your family was not of noblemen,” I commented, looking at the large manor standing before us. Many lanterns lighted it.
“They are not.”
“Then how do you explain this?”
“Questions will get you hurt,” he stated, making it clear that the conversation was over.
I peered through the darkness at the large manor looming before us. I began to wonder why he was carrying me instead of just dragging me along for I could not see the ground he was walking on. Perhaps we were walking through mud or something much worse. Pushing that thought from my mind I looked Matthew in the face as my eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness.
He was looking straight ahead, keeping a steady pace toward his destination. His face was solemn and indifferent. That was when he noticed that I was gazing at him. I quickly looked away.
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, loosening his arm that was under my knees.
“Does my answer even matter?” I sneered, feeling his breath in my curls.
“Yes. Do you think it possible for you to fall for me?”
“You are inconceivable.”
“That is not an answer.”
“You think?”
“Mary Jane, if you do not cooperate, you will be dead by sunrise.”
I swallowed with anxiety.
“Now, I will ask you again. Do you think it possible to fall for me?” he demanded with anger edging into his voice.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You are too fastidious for comfort,” I answered shortly, showing my annoyance. This caused him to chuckle.
I was about to say more when we reached the entrance of the place. I felt Matthew’s arms began to lower and I slid against him to a standing position. Then, gripping my arm he led me inside.
Thoughts began to stir in my mind. Who lived here? Did he know the people? Were they here? So many questions that I was too afraid to ask. His statement repeated in my mind: Asking questions will get you hurt. If so, then how badly hurt?
My thoughts ended short for he pulled the dagger out of his coat pocket. Oh, no, what was he going to do with that?
“Do not you try anything, Mary Jane.”
“Why-”
“Silence.” My captor had sneered it so close to my face that I felt a shower of spit.
Dismayed, I wiped away the wetness off with the back of my hand. Then as I went to lower my hand back to my side, he grasped my wrist and twisted my arm behind me. I resulted in grinding my teeth to keep from screaming out in pain while he tied my hands behind my back with a rope.
“Now, call out to see if anyone is here…you are lost and need help,” the man instructed. Then said, “No funny business either.”
“Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out, obeying my orders. “I am lost and am in need of some assistance.”
“Do it again.”
“Please, anyone help me,” I screamed, not caring what he did to me. I had to get help for real; I needed to be rescued.
I was pushed to the floor and landed with a thud. Moments later, the sound of running was heard from somewhere in the manor. I watched, as a flicker of light was seen coming down what appeared to be a staircase, but it being dark, I cannot be absolutely sure. More lights began to appear, coming towards us.
It turned from a “they are going to help me” scene to a horrifying scene of murdering. People were being killed. I could hear the sounds of men in pain and laughter of satisfaction. One murder had been enough for one night; I did not need all this. The last thing I remember that night was a man falling to the floor dead, his blood coming towards me. I must have passed out.
* * *
My eyes slowly opened. Moving only my eyes I found myself lying on a canopy bed with dark green velvet curtains, but I could not move my arms. It was then that I realized why. My wrists were tied to the bedpost with a thick rope.
Matthew was the only one who could have done this. After all, he did was the reason I passed out, which was the cause of the pain to my temple.
“Matthew Bromley!” I yelled. “Untie me!”
“No,” his voice said. He was close by. “That screaming for someone to help you was sharp thinking. It sounded so real.”
“It was real you horrid man.”
He suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed with a blank expression on his face. I watched as he walked around the bed to my side before he placed a single hand flat on my stomach. He ran his hand up and down my body, watching me as I watched him.
“I could kill you so easily,” he began. “But I do not want to do that just yet. I want to give you time to earn your keep first.”
“You are despicable,” I sneered in dismay, trying to move away from him. “I wish I had never met you.”
If it had not been for the ropes tying me down I would have ran or at least tried to defend myself against him. But unfortunately I was tied down and even more unfortunately was the fact that he was running his hand along my body as if I were his property or something.
“Get your filthy hands off of me,” I said with a bit of bitterness in my voice.
“Why should I? Because I am of lower class than you?”
“No. I want your hands off of me for the reason that you abducted me from my fiancé’s house and murdered him.”
“You are angry at me for murdering him?”
He laughed at himself a little, finally taking his hand from my body. “You did not want to marry him. Actually, I heard you talking aloud to yourself about wanting to do away with Sir James. That is quite funny.”
“That is not the point.”
“Then tell me Miss Pendleton. What is the point?”
“The point is that you abducted me after killing him.”
“Well, I could not exactly leave you there to snitch on me now could I?”
Now I was getting annoyed. Here he was trying to get me to agree that he had to kidnap me. I could see it in his eyes that it was what he wanted. Gosh I hate men.
“It is like I said, I am angry at you for the reason that you took me away to this horrid place. Fine, I admit it I do not care about the James thing,” I exclaimed, showing my anger.
“Horrid place? Well, do not worry about that, Mary Jane. We shan’t be here very much longer.”
“And what is to be done with me?”
“Well,” Matthew said thoughtfully. “I can either kill you and be on my way or I can take you along with me. The choice is pretty much up to you. If you do as I ask, it is a possibility that you will walk out of here alive.”
Then before I could say a single word, the door of the room opened and in came four men. They were all dressed nicely except for one who looked distasteful, but did not look the part. I could see that the clothes they were wearing were not theirs and probably belonged to the people that had been killed the night before.
“Bromley,” one of them asked. “What is to be done with the woman?”
This one looked familiar in a way but I was not sure whether I knew him or not. He reminded me of someone, but I was not exactly positive whom.
“Jack,” my captor said. “We might or might not kill her. It just depends on if she is cooperative or not.”
“Oh, we know what you mean by that.”
The men nudged each other with grins on their faces causing the man next to me to scowl at them. It was then that I knew what they were talking about. He wanted me to share his bed. It was also then that I figured out why this Jack guy looked so familiar. He was Jack Lafayette, my first real love.
“Jack Lafayette!” I cried. “Is that really you?”
They all looked from me to him to me again. It was Matthew who ended the silence by questioning, “You know each other?”
“Indeed,” I answered. “We used to be friends I guess you could say.”
“What? How?”
“Tell them, Jack,” I said, hoping that it would make his friends feel bad or something. “Tell them how we know each other.”
He looked at me in wonder before asking, “Who are you?”
“You mean you do not recognize me? I am appalled.”
“I seriously do not know who this woman is.”
His friends were looking at him with wonder and interest. They all looked at me once again. I was still tied to the bedpost of the canopy bed with my kidnapper by my side. He was looking at me as well. Only his look was different. It was a look of all knowing. He knew who I was and for some reason I know that he had known.
“Well, if I must tell you. My name is Mary Jane Pendleton, the governor’s daughter,” I said arrogantly. Of course the arrogant sounding remark was fake. I hated being rich.
Gender:
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