Beyond the Night - eBook - Final Page 11

  “I quite forgot myself as well,” she finally said, grateful that she at least sounded somewhat controlled.

  She raised a quivering hand to push her hair from her face. He caught her fingers and pulled them away. Then he brushed his hand across her forehead, smoothing the tendrils of hair, tucking them behind her ears.

  “Why is your hair so short?” he asked.

  She blinked in surprise, still distracted by his seeking fingers. They tangled in her hair, moving in circular motion, feeling, touching the short curls.

  Ashamed, she looked down, remembering all too well how her hair had been shorn. It had been done to humiliate her, to humble her.

  Ridge placed two fingers under her chin and forced her to look up at him. “What demons are you fighting?” he murmured.

  “My hair was cut by a group of rebel fighters that captured me in India,” she said baldly.

  His eyes flared in surprise. “So the stories were true?”

  “If you are referring to the rumors of my captivity, then yes, they were true.”

  Sympathy softened his face. “I’m sorry. I-I...” His voice trailed off.

  “Truly, I have no desire to discuss it,” she said, turning away. “You needn’t pity me. It is over. I survived.”

  He stepped closer to her, his hands brushing against her shoulders. “But at what cost?”

  She stared up into the night. At what cost indeed. He was far too perceptive. Too understanding. She shrugged, then stepped away from him. His hands fell back to his sides.

  As if understanding her desire to change the subject, he straightened and said, “I will send word to Robby that we will depart as soon as the ship is ready. If you have need of anything for the journey, you must go out and purchase it tomorrow.”

  She nodded, grateful to switch back to a more neutral topic. She had a lot of planning to do if she was going to carry out her deception.

  Chapter Ten

  He was dying. He had known so for many months. But the knowledge didn’t lessen the gnawing pain in his stomach. Robert Hadley swallowed the last of the whiskey and laudanum mixture from his glass and prayed for oblivion to claim him.

  He stared out the window into the moonless night. The stars winked at him, their false gaiety abrasive to him. The doctors had clucked their sympathy, but offered no hope of his survival.

  He had long since learned to live with the pain. He welcomed it. Pain meant he was still alive. He could feel. Only when he ceased to feel would he weep. It would mean death. And he wanted to live.

  His hand loosened its grip on the draperies as he felt the welcome leaden feeling invade his limbs. The respite was temporary. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He needed to wake with the pain clawing at his entrails. He needed to wake, period.

  He walked to his bed, his gait unsteady, his vision slightly blurred. He could hear his wife thumping around in the adjoining room. Hear her fits of rage echo and bounce off the walls.

  She had been to see Ridge. He knew she had. But he also knew his brother would not betray him. Not as he had betrayed Ridge.

  Sorrow filled his chest, regret burning a path through his brain. If only he could change the past. But he couldn’t. There was only the future. What little he had left.

  He wanted to spend his last moments with Ridge. Sharing his dreams. Anything to make up for the mistake he had made. He loved his brother. Admired him. And more than anything he wanted Ridge’s forgiveness.

  He pulled his clothing from his body and stumbled naked into bed. He was cold and no fire burned in the hearth. He focused on the beating of his heart, lying still, so he could see the rise and fall of his chest.

  He would not die this night. There was too much to do before he left this world.

  I’m sorry, Ridge.

  His eyes fluttered shut. Opened. The fluttered closed again. Blackness engulfed him, and for a moment, he panicked. His eyes flew open, his heart thumping frantically in his chest. He focused on the still-lit candle across the room, and relief filled him. No, he wouldn’t die this night.

  Chapter Eleven

  India opened her eyes and blinked in confusion. It was daylight. Light streamed in the window, bathing her room in a warm glow. She stretched sleepily, and pulled the covers up tighter under her chin. She closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in the softness of the bed.

  She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling in sudden realization. She had slept the entire night.

  Not once since her return from India had she been able to sleep through the night.

  She shoved aside the blankets and threw her legs over the side of the bed. The floor swam beneath her, and she took a steadying breath. Her head didn’t ache as vilely as it had the night before, but her pulse still thudded painfully at her temple.

  Her door swung open, and she looked up to see Udaya sweep in, beaming from ear to ear.

  “You slept the entire night, Beti.”

  India nodded.

  Udaya plopped down on the bed beside her and placed a slender arm around India. “Perhaps this is the start of much brighter days for you.”

  India nodded again, not yet able to voice a response. Why had she slept blissfully through the night? The familiar panic had not assaulted her. She barely remembered lying down, hoping for just a few moments rest.

  The viscount’s face shimmered in her mind, his image bringing comfort to her. And more. She felt safe.

  She stood up, shock numbing her. How could this man affect her so? He was merely a pawn in a plan to free her father. Nothing more. She wouldn’t allow for more.

  “Something troubles you, Beti?”

  India turned to see Udaya’s troubled gaze resting on her.

  “No. Nothing.”

  Udaya rose and patted India on the shoulder. “I will be in the garden should you require my assistance. Kavi and I are breaking our fast there.”

  India smiled and captured Udaya’s hand in hers. Giving it a light squeeze, she said, “Enjoy yourself. I am planning to visit Artemis this morning. I want to show him the bracelet.”

  “His lordship bade me to tell you he would return later. He is at the docks seeing to the final details of our departure.”

  “Thank you,” India murmured, guilty for the relief she felt. It would make it easier to speak frankly with Artemis if the viscount weren’t in attendance.

  An hour later, India stepped from a hired carriage and hastened to the ramshackle door of Artemis’ book shop. She tapped impatiently and waited for him to answer.

  The door opened jerkily and Artemis’ wrinkled face appeared. “What are you doing here again, gel? They’re watching. You should be more cautious.”

  “If you aren’t interested in seeing Gabriel’s Bracelet, I’ll be on my way.” She had no patience for Artemis’ cranky yammerings today.

  He wrapped gnarled fingers around her wrist and pulled her forward. “You have the bracelet?” he demanded, his eyes alight with excitement.

  He poked his head out the door and scanned the street before slamming the door and securing a series of locks. He motioned her to follow him toward the back.

  When they were seated at his desk below the bookshop, he leaned forward. “Show it to me.”

  She pulled it from her trousers and held it out to him.

  He lifted it reverently from her palm and ran his fingers over the rough surface. “So beautiful,” he murmured.

  He glanced at her over the bracelet, his gaze piercing. “What’s this about your father being dead?”

  She flushed. “I received a letter from him a few days ago. Until then I thought him dead.”

  “And this journey, is it to uncover the city or is it to find your father?”

  She sighed and leaned back wearily in her chair. “I am sure you know of my deception. The viscount asked for my help before I knew of my father’s captivity. I refused, but then I realized he was the key to finding my father.”


  “So you are using him in order to travel to Spain and find Phillip.”

  His words, so blunt and matter of fact made her wince. “Yes, I suppose that is the whole of it,” she muttered.

  She tucked her hair behind her ears and fiddled with the ends. “I’ve pondered whether or not to just tell him the truth. He seems a decent man. Someone I could trust. Someone I want to trust. I can’t imagine he would allow my father to languish if he knew the whole story.”

  Artemis nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, he does seem a good man. But have you considered that involving him any further would place him in grave danger?”

  She sat up in alarm. No, she hadn’t considered the consequences of telling Ridge about her father and his abductor’s demands.

  “I can see you haven’t,” Artemis said smugly.

  He dug around in the piles of books and paper on his desk and drew out a stack of letters tied together with ribbon. He tossed them toward her, and they landed with a thud on the desk in front of her.

  She looked questioningly at him.

  “Go on and open them,” he directed. “I think you’ll find them interesting. I spent an entire night compiling them.”

  She untied the ribbon and began turning the pages, her brow furrowed in concentration.

  “Interesting the amount of information that exists about Pagoria, and yet no one truly knows anything about it,” he said in amusement.

  “Where did you get this?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “I’ve collected information my entire life. Tidbits here and there. Mentions. Whispers. Legends. What you hold is the compilation of my life’s work.”

  Realization slowly dawned. “And you’re giving it to me.”

  He nodded. “I don’t want Pagoria to die,” he said quietly. “She is too important. The foundation of everything we are.” He paused, a weary expression creasing his brow. “I see you at the doorway, poised to enter the great city, and yet I do not know if you are successful. I do not know if you should be successful. My academic mind is eager to discover the secrets she holds, and yet my heart wonders if some secrets are best left unknown. Surely there is a reason her existence has gone unnoticed for so long.”

  India swallowed, the enormity of Artemis’ statement settling over her. If he saw her poised to go into the city, it must mean she would not just be traveling to Spain to rescue her father.

  Unable to contain it, a curl of excitement blossomed and grew within her. Despite any misgivings over embarking on yet another expedition, her love for Pagoria sparked excitement. Would she really see the city? Would a decade of traipsing across the world see her fondest dream come true?

  In the dark hole she had spent three months in, she had questioned everything in her life. Her sanity. She had sworn then and there to give up her life of uncertainties and endless travel and settle somewhere she could call home.

  She was tired of chasing useless dreams. Going where the wind blew. Living in some of the worst conditions imaginable all because she might uncover an artifact or clue to Pagoria’s whereabouts.

  She wanted...a home. A family. Meals at a real table instead of around a fire on the ground.

  Her mind screamed at her to forget Pagoria. To just go to Spain and hand over whatever it took to guarantee her father’s safety. But her heart echoed dreams forged in her childhood. Following her father around the globe, desperately wanting his approval, not wanting to let go of the only family she had. Along the way, she had developed a strong connection to the ancient city. She was convinced it had existed, and here she stood poised to prove it.

  “You battle your heart,” Artemis spoke up. “Never a good thing. The heart always knows the right of things.”

  “If that is true, then your heart tells you the city is best kept a secret,” she pointed out.

  He nodded slowly. “I am not convinced that is incorrect.”

  “Then why?” she trailed off.

  “Why do I give you the means to find it?”

  She nodded.

  “You already have them. I am merely aiding your cause. In all likelihood you would find it without my help. I would rather you have the information I possess instead of it falling into the wrong hands.”

  “I will guard it well,” she said.

  He reached across and laid his hand on hers, his grip surprisingly frail. “You have a tough road ahead of you, India. Many choices to make. Some of them wrong. Some of them right. I trust you to know when the time comes what the right choice is. It will not be easy.”

  She laughed. A nervous, shaky laugh. She hated it when Artemis became sage and mysterious. “Thank you, Artemis. I hope I will not let you down.”

  “The only person you should worry about letting down is yourself,” he said pointedly. “Now, you should be on your way. It isn’t safe for you here.”

  She nodded and rose from her seat. “I will look you up when I return.”

  “I look forward to it,” he said as he directed her to the doorway.

  They walked up the stairs to the upper level, and India walked through the darkened aisles of the bookshop toward the front entrance. As she stepped into the sunlight, she frowned. The hack hadn’t waited as she had instructed. And she had no more money to hail another.

  With a deflated sigh, she turned back, resigned to having to go back in to Artemis’s shop. She would have to see if he could spare funds for the ride back to Ridge’s.

  “Miss Ashton, a word if you please.”

  She halted, the stilted accent rushing over her with eerie familiarity. She didn’t need to see the man to know he was the same person who had broken into her house.

  Not giving him a chance to apprehend her, she broke into a run, clutching the sheaf of papers Artemis had given her to her chest. She felt frantically for the bracelet in her pocket, cursing her stupidity the entire time.

  “Miss Ashton, wait!” he called behind her.

  But she kept running, pushing herself harder.

  She had been a fool to venture out without Kavi. Her false sense of security within the viscount’s house had led her to make a bad decision. And she would be lucky if she didn’t pay for it with her life.

  She ran faster as she heard footsteps behind her. His feet pounded the cobblestone street, and it urged her to greater speed. She dashed into the street, barely avoiding an oncoming carriage. The horse reared and the driver bellowed his displeasure at her as she streaked by.

  Her heart pounded her chest. Painful. Her breaths came in torturous spurts. But she wouldn’t stop.

  She dodged a vegetable cart, knocking over a cascade of beets as her hip banged the edge. Faster she raced, taking turn after turn in hopes of eluding her pursuer. Her lungs were screaming for air, her legs burning as she pushed herself harder.

  Ahead she saw a hack slow to pick up a gentleman hailing it. She chanced a backwards look and saw the man chasing her a half block back. Summoning one last burst of speed, she caught up to the hack just as it was departing.

  She reached up and grabbed the back rail and swung her feet against the carriage, bracing herself as it rumbled away. The muscles in her arm protested as she used her free arm to stuff the papers into her shirt.

  Finally she reached up with her other arm and held on for dear life as the carriage picked up speed.

  In the distance she saw her pursuer slow to a stop. He stared at her, his eyes making a promise. He would find her again.

  She shivered and prayed she wouldn’t fall from her perch.

  When she was out of sight, she waited for the carriage to slow enough so that she could safely hop down to the street. When the driver slowed for traffic, she seized her chance and bailed from the hack.

  Her legs threatened to collapse beneath her as she hobbled from the street. She hurt in places she didn’t even know existed. Down the lane she saw an oncoming hack and she waved frantically at it.

  It slowed to a stop besid
e her, and she stared beseechingly up at the driver.

  “Good sir, would you please be so kind as to convey me to Lord Ridgewood’s residence? He will pay the fare.”

  The driver cast a doubtful glance at her attire, and she flushed. She must look like a common street urchin in her boys clothing.

  “Please sir.” Her voice cracked and she glanced in panic behind her to see if she was still being followed.

  “Climb in,” the driver grumbled. “But you better be telling me the truth about Lord Ridgewood paying the fare. I’ve got a family to feed.”

  She gratefully clamored in after giving the driver the direction. She slumped in the seat and closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling in quick succession as she caught her breath.

  When they arrived at Ridge’s townhouse, a footman opened the carriage door for her and assisted her down. Her legs shook and threatened to buckle beneath her.

  “Would you please summon Lord Ridgewood?” she asked the footman as she cast a nervous glance up at the driver.

  She waited anxiously, and a few moments later, the footman returned with Ridge. Ridge strode up to her, concern creasing his brow.

  “Is something amiss, India?”

  She cleared her throat. “Can you pay the driver?” She avoided his gaze and looked instead at the expectant driver.

  “Of course.” He dug into his pocket and tossed the driver the fare. “Thank you for seeing her home,” he said as the driver gathered the reins.

  Ridge turned back to India, his expression questioning. “What happened? Why didn’t you wait for me if you needed to go out?”

  Her trembling legs gave way, and he had to catch her arms to prevent her falling.

  Before she could protest, he swung her into his arms and carried her toward the door.

  “Ridge, I can walk,” she said firmly. When he didn’t respond, she struggled and attempted to put her feet down so she could slide from his grip.

  He tightened his hold and ignored her as he walked into the foyer. He carried her into the sitting room and set her gently on the settee. Then he knelt in front of her.