Page 46 of Hooked

“James, do something!” Marilee shouted.

“I can’t, Marilee. I tried everything, but they have proof.”

“But she didn’t agree to it!” she screamed as I passed through the front doors. “They can’t force her into it.”

“Her signature is there, Marilee. Our hands are tied.” Sir James’s voice begged for understanding.

I felt badly for him. He did not deserve the blame.

The gravel crunched beneath my shoes as Captain Huckley hustled me into a carriage, climbing in after me and shutting the door with a sound that was strangely like a death knell.

As the carriage lurched forward, I spared one glance toward the house, only to see Falstone burst through the front doors, the magistrate right on his heels. “CECILY!” he shouted, running after me.

But the carriage rolled on and his shouts soon faded into the wind.

14

The ride to Huckley’s home took nearly the entire day. And as the hours passed, I tried my best to accept what lay before me. There were still many bits and pieces of me that continued to hope, that believed that some solution would present itself and that I would not be forced into marriage with the snake that occupied the carriage with me. But I knew those hopes were fanciful. Wisps of false light that would bring me nothing but further darkness.

Perhaps it would not be so terrible. Perhaps his false devotion would be enough to keep him from hurting me. Perhaps his wives’ deaths truly were accidents.

Perhaps I should hope that he would kill me sooner rather than torturing me for years on end, the way that Damian had tortured Marilee, tearing her down one piece at a time.

For a long time, I sat in nothing but despair, and then the anger set in. Anger at myself for not trusting my instinct to run earlier. Anger at Marilee, at Emeline and Beatrice, at Sir James. Anger at Falstone. They’d told me I would be safe, and I’d let myself believe them. I’d let myself trust that they could protect me when I knew better. What was wrong with me? I knew better! Why hadn’t I run days ago?

It was near the dinner hour when Captain Huckley moved from the seat across from me to the seat beside me. I continued to stare out the window as he scooted closer and raised a hand to caress the auburn waves that hung by my ears. “You are even more magnificent to look upon than you were all those years ago.” He pushed my locks behind my shoulder and breathed in the scent of my hair. “I cannot wait to see you in the gowns and jewels I will provide for you.”

I didn’t answer, just continued to stare out the window as the sky turned to gray and a hollowness welled within me.

We stopped soon after at an inn to have dinner before continuing on. I was only able to eat a few small bites of food as my stomach rebelled at my situation.

I didn’t speak the entire journey and I do not believe my future husband even noticed. He would start speaking every once in a while, droning on about the fine house he had prepared for me or the beautiful view I would enjoy.

As if it had all been done for me, despite the fact that I’d been lost and forgotten for nearly a decade.

We arrived at his home just after sunset. I could smell the sea, and as the carriage wheels clattered up the drive, the sound of waves reached me as well. The house itself was surrounded by thorny hedges and looked ominous in the dim light, but Captain Huckley was all smiles.

My apprehension grew when the carriage stopped before the large front doors of the house. I swallowed hard and forced my voice to work. “Where is your mother’s home where I will be staying?”

“Why, it is right here.”

“And your house is elsewhere?” I said, grasping on to any hope, though my insides squirmed, knowing something was wrong.

He laughed lightly. “Of course not, my dear. My mother occupied this house with my father, and when he passed, it became mine. So I have brought you to my mother’s home, but it is also my home.”

I fought to keep my breathing from quickening out of control. “I look forward to making her acquaintance.” And if the world held any kindness for me, she would be inclined to be at least somewhat sympathetic toward me.

“She would have adored you, I have no doubt.”

Would have? I swallowed hard.

“Alas, my mother passed on some years ago.”

“But,” I sputtered, my heart galloping out of control. “You said I would be at your mother’s home.”

“Which you are.”

“Loved and cared for.”