As he gave her a final kiss and strode from the room, he hoped all would be perfect in their life together. But with Gerald Hawkesworth still out there, doing the good Lord only knew what, and the solicitors having the power to prevent their marriage, Clifford was filled with a sudden sense of foreboding which all the kisses and caresses Vanessa gave him could do nothing to dispel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Gerald climaxed with a satisfied grunt, tightening his fingers around the hapless woman's throat so that at last she ceased her struggles. Ceased to be.
He rose from the ground and adjusted his clothing. He was so hot he removed his leather mask to mop his soaking brow. The cool night air upon his passion-flamed face was like a caress. He stuffed the mask in his pocket and went over to the young man they had tied to a tree and forced to watch. Though they had already beaten him within an inch of his life, the edge on Gerald's towering fury still had not been taken off.
Just as well, since the man certainly could not be permitted to live. Dead men told no tales...
He kicked and pummeled the man again with his fists until at last he tired, then grasped the rope which had been used to tie his hapless victim around the tree. He threw one end over a high branch. He pulled with all his might, lifting the tall dark man high above the ground, until he began to jig in the air in the manner which delighted so many witnesses to public executions.
Except that the only thing this man had been guilty of was being in the wrong place at the wrong time when Gerald had heard that Vanessa was still alive after his attempt to poison her and prevent her from getting help.
"Look at him dancing," one of his companions declared, running his fingers through his hair.
The third man joined in the merciless mockery. "One, two, three, one, two, three," he taunted, removing his own mask to take a swill of rum, and wondering if he should have another turn on the wench, even though Gerald had spoiled their fun a bit by throttling her.
Gerald manipulated the rope up and down, letting his victim's feet rest on the ground for a tantalizing second, so that he managed to catch a few desperate breaths before being hauled aloft once more. But eventually Gerald grew tired of the sport, and tied the end to a small knot on the trunk of the tree.
"Interesting leaves on that tree, wouldn't you say, gentlemen?" Gerald sneered, still feeling a savage fury roiling inside of him.
"What shall we do now?" the third man asked, offering him the bottle.
"I think there's a small farm house over there. The Widow Marsters, and her three young daughters, if I'm not mistaken."
The two men grinned from ear to ear.
The second man's eyes lit up evilly. He growled, "What a good idea. Lead the way, Gerald, lead the way."
Leaving the tall young man swinging and kicking, desperate for even the smallest puff of air, the trio gathered the reins of their horses, and vanished deep into the vastness of Millcote Forest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It was an idyllic summer's afternoon. The cerulean sky was cloudless, the birds twittered in the trees, and a cool breeze wafted though the ornate gardens behind the lovely red brick Elizabethan manor.
It was a perfect day for a visit to the elegant maze. There knights consorted with their ladies, reciting poetry, plucking flowers for their beloveds' nosegays, and strumming upon their lutes. The sun beat down overhead, but that daunted not the many who had assembled for the tourneys that day. The most eagerly awaited event would be the jousting, but for the moment the archery butts had been put in place, and now the competing men assembled, while the ladies looked on in awe.
A few of the couples had strayed down the primrose path of dalliance, and were still playing hide and seek amid the lofty green walls of the box hedge. What could be more perfect than a maze for flirtation. Concealment. Fairy tales come to life.
Or to death.
For as she sat on the ground weaving stems to make a daisy chain, a dark knight clad head to toe in ebony began to pursue a blue-gowned woman who had rejected his rose. She was determinedly making her way to where all the contestants had assembled. As the knights pace quickened, so too did hers.
In her haste to get away, she did not see the danger. She stepped right out in front of a straw filled target, just as the contest started. The shadowy man who had been about to take his turn was shoved aside, and the dark knight let fly with a goose fletched arrow which whistled through the air like a banshee's scream.
"No! No! Look out! Stop!"
But it was too late. She heard the sickening crunch of steel into bone, flesh. Her daisy chain tumbled from her numb fingers, and now she was running toward the fair damsel with red hair, who was now no more than a sad-looking wraith who gave her a tender smile and kiss on the forehead.