She swallowed the fear choking her as fast as she could, yet she was unable to get it all down.
“Do you have something to say, Miss Worthington?”
She shook her head fervently.
“Good.” He pulled a bell cord hanging in the corner. The butler reappeared in the doorway. He silently eyed Thatcher’s body, maimed and bloody. “Take Miss Worthington to the north tower. I have no further use for her at the moment. Then clean this up while I ready us to leave.”
Fielding leaned against the closed door and exhaled slowly. He’d been a complete ass. He should go and apologize. Tell her he’d returned the diary. But he knew he wouldn’t. This was for Esme’s own good.
As long as she was in his life, she was in danger. The Raven would use her against Fielding, and he wouldn’t always be able to protect her.
Pandora’s box lay hidden in the bottom of a travel chest in his room. He pulled it out to examine it. The ornate carvings of the gods and goddesses were so intricate and detailed, it seemed unlikely they were made with human hands.
Every turn they’d taken since finding the box seemed to lead to the unbelievable. The stuff of novels and fairy tales, not modern-day England. Yet, there was part of him that very much felt as if he’d been under some sort of curse. Only it wasn’t lust he’d been afflicted with, but rather love for a woman he couldn’t truly have because he didn’t deserve her.
And in the end the Raven would do what he could to retrieve the box. Not only that, but they were now only one day away from the lunar eclipse. Fielding couldn’t allow Esme to face her fate alone.
He withdrew the key from of his pocket. Esme had not noticed him swipe it from her bedside table yesterday after their argument. With a click, the box opened, and Fielding reached inside.
He felt the final bracelet latch onto his wrist. Now they were in this together. The Raven couldn’t get any of the bracelets off without Fielding present. And if worse came to worst, he and Esme would face the end together.
CHAPTER 22
A knock sounded on his bedchamber door the following morning. Fielding rose, and upon opening the door found Thea standing there, her hands knotted in an old handkerchief.
“Is Esme with you?” she asked.
“No, I haven’t seen her all day. I went out for a while earlier and thought she was still abed.” Actually, he’d assumed she was still in her room avoiding him.
“She’s not in her room,” Thea said with a choked sob. “And her maid hasn’t seen her since yesterday morning. I think something dreadful has happened.”
Alarm spread through Fielding. “You know Esme; she probably went for a walk on the grounds,” he said, trying to soothe the older woman.
“You have to do something,” Thea pleaded.
He squeezed the woman’s arm, then stepped around her and into the hall. “I’ll take care of it.”
Twenty minutes later he’d scoured the house and found no sign of Esme. Only one servant, a footman, remembered seeing her leave the house in her cloak around eleven- thirty the previous morning. Fielding had already left for the museum by then.
He glanced at the clock in the hall, quarter of seven. The Raven had her; it was the only explanation. He climbed the stairs back to his room and threw open the packing trunk. There was only one way to get her back. He pulled out the box and dropped it into a bag. Five minutes later he was in a borrowed coach on his way to Black Manor.
He’d never known his uncle to harm a woman. The man had done his share of wretched things, the least of which might include murdering Mr. Nichols, but Fielding had never seen him take advantage of a lady. Once upon a time his own mother had loved the Raven; surely that meant a heart beat inside the man’s chest.
The carriage had not even rolled to a complete stop before Fielding had jumped down and scaled the steps. A quick pound on the door, and the butler had given him entrance. “Where are they?” he demanded.
“The master of the house is out,” the butler said.
Fielding grabbed the old man by his jacket and held him up to his face; the servant’s breath was sour with age. “Tell me where they are.”
The only sign that the butler felt threatened was the slow swallow he made before he spoke. “I do not know where he went.”
With one last look, Fielding shoved the old man away from him and left the house. Where the hell would the Raven take her?
“I trust you’re comfortable,” the Raven asked, though he couldn’t have expected an answer considering he’d gagged Esme before they’d left his estate. She was crouched on a dirty wooden floor in an old house with no fire and only two lamps to light the room. The Raven eyed her as if he did in fact want her to answer. So she merely nodded.
She had no idea where they were. At some point after he’d ordered her held in the tower room, that old butler had brought her back downstairs, and the Raven had tied her up and tossed her into the back of a carriage. The room they were in now was not large and sparsely furnished, holding only the small wooden table the Raven currently sat near, and two chairs.
“Do you know what this place is?” he asked. He came to his feet then and spread his arms out to encompass the room. “This was my home at one time.” He looked down at her. “I know it’s hard to imagine, considering the house I live in now. But there was a time when I’d lost my inheritance at the tables playing cards, and my brother wouldn’t give me another dime.” He shook his head. “No, he had a family to care for.”