Love Comes Blindly (book 5) (The Fielding Brothers Saga) Page 11

  “Is this true, my child?”

  Madeline had only lied a few times since coming to the Abbey, but she could not lie to the superior mother, although it might get her hung for a crime she didn’t really commit. “They both came to my room looking for someone.”

  “And what about last night?” the captain asked. “Were you not by the stables way past dark—by yourself?”

  “That, I was, sir.” Madeline nodded as tears stung her eyes. “But it’s not to free the prisoners.”

  The Russian smirked. “I’m certain you didn’t free them by yourself, Miss. In fact, I’m quite certain you were by the stable to sneak the men from the village inside to do the deed. You’re nothing but a traitor!”

  Gasps ricocheted throughout the crowd.

  She shook her head. “How dare you! I’m not a traitor.”

  “Then child, tell us whot ya was doin’ by the stables,” the Reverend Mother urged.

  “I—I—I…” She swallowed hard again, silently praying for help.

  “She was with me.”

  The man’s strong voice from behind had her swinging around. Gregg marched through the crowd, his face hard as he bunched his hands into fists. Madeline wanted to sigh with relief, but something deep inside told her this was not the moment to claim victory.

  “What are ya sayin’, Mr. Fieldin’?” the Reverend Mother asked.

  “I’m saying that the reason she was by the stables last night—way after dark—was because I coerced her there.”

  The Russian soldier stepped toward Gregg. “You coerced her? Explain yourself.”

  Stopping nearly nose to nose with the soldier, Gregg folded his arms across his wide chest. “I seduced her, you jackanapes! She was with me at the stables while I had my wicked way with her.” He cocked his head. “Satisfied now?”

  Gasps exploded all around Madeline, and she thought even a few people released mournful sobs. Dizziness assailed her, and she wished it would consume her and make her swoon. Unfortunately, she was not that lucky, and she was kept alert to feel all the humiliation from the situation. Even though Gregg lied, at least his lie saved her hide.

  Pain etched in the Reverend Mother’s watery gaze as she stared at Madeline. “Is this true?”

  God forgive me, but I’m going to lie again… Yet if she told the truth, both she and Gregg would be hanged for killing the soldier. “Yes, Gregg seduced me.” She lowered her eyes to the ground, not wanting to see the shame on anyone’s expression.

  Mumbles rose throughout the crowd. Madeline knew what they were saying. Knew that they were blaming her for becoming a fallen child. Yet, God knew the truth. God knew why Gregg had to kill the Scot, and knew why they had to lie. And at this point, God was the only one she was worried about.

  “What is going on?”

  Another male voice boomed through the crowd. Madeline jerked her head toward the man in cloth. Father Irvine. Tears collected in her eyes, knowing she had let the good Father down as well as the Reverend Mother. What could be worse?

  Madeline tried to close out the sounds around her as the captain and Reverend Mother related the horrid details of Madeline’s fall from grace, but she still heard their accusing tone.

  “Mr. Fielding, is there anything you would like to say for yourself?” Father Irvine snapped.

  Gregg shrugged. “Nothing that would make a difference.”

  “Sir, are you going to do the gentlemanly thing and marry this poor girl now?”

  Madeline hitched a breath, and swung her gaze to Gregg. Not again! How many times did the man have to answer this question—with the same woman, no less?

  Gregg squared his shoulders and breathed in deeply. His face only held one expression—annoyance. Madeline’s heart broke. He was still upset at her and thought she loved Andrew.

  “Well,” Gregg began, “I have never really considered myself a gentleman since I have the reputation of a rake. However, this is the first time I have tried to seduce a nun, so I suppose I will have to do the right thing and marry her for fear God will curse me if I don’t.”

  A few chuckles bounced through the crowd, humiliating Madeline that much more. But what hurt was to think he didn’t appear happy at all about his declaration. In fact, he looked downright miserable.

  “Splendid. I pray tomorrow is not too soon, because I will perform the marriage then.” Father Irvine switched his gaze between Madeline and Gregg. “Is this acceptable to you?”

  “Only on one condition,” Gregg added.

  “What is that Mr. Fielding?”

  “After Madeline and I are married I want us to leave first thing for England.”

  Her heart accelerated. By agreeing, maybe he would realize she really did love him.

  “What say you, Madeline?” Father Irvine asked.

  “I agree.”

  “Then it’s settled.” The Father nodded.

  “Actually, Father Irvine,” the Reverend Mother spoke. “I cannot have Madeline stay in my Abbey any longer. Is there a way you could marry them this afternoon?”

  Gregg’s eyes widened, and Madeline’s chest clenched with fear. She waited for him to say something to stop it, yet he didn’t. Then again, shock probably had hold of his tongue.

  Father Irvine nodded. “That can be arranged.” He turned to the captain. “There. Now you have her account. She did not have anything to do in the prisoner’s release because Mr. Fielding was keeping her…eh, occupied at the time. I pray you leave the poor girl alone. She has been shamed terribly, and she shouldn’t have to be humiliated any further. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Father.” The captain nodded, turned, and stormed away.

  The Russian threw her a piercing glare then followed behind.

  Father Irvine stepped closer to Madeline and clutched her hands. “All is taken care of, my child.”

  “What about…” she lowered her voice, “the traitors?”

  “They will be captured, I assure you,” he whispered. He took a step back and cleared his throat. “I suggest you collect your things now, my child. You can ride back to town with me and Mr. Fielding.”

  “Father,” Gregg said coming closer. “If you will, I would like to help Madeline and bring her to the church alone. Is it all right if we meet you there later?”

  “Of course. The ceremony will be at one o’clock precisely. Do not be late.”

  “I won’t.”

  The crowd walked away from her, parting like the Red Sea as she and Gregg trudged back toward the Abbey. Mixed emotions ran amuck through her, contrasting greatly. She wanted to feel happy that she would now marry the man she loved, yet at the same time, knowing he was forced to marry her—once again—left a bitter taste on her tongue. But knowing she would finally get to tell Gregg her feelings about going to England made her happy.

  Taking a deep breath, she prayed for courage. “Forgive me—”

  “Madeline, I’m sorry—”

  When they both spoke at the same time, their eyes met and held. She didn’t dare say anymore, and by his silence, she wondered if she thought the same.

  She smiled. “Gregg, please forgive me.”

  “For what?”

  “For making someone force you to marry me twice now since we first met.”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “Indeed, it does seem rather far-fetched, does it not?”

  “Yes, it does.” She touched his arm still folded across his chest. “Why were you apologizing?”

  “For forcing you to return to England with me.” His gaze dropped to the ground.

  “Not to worry, Gregg. When I awoke this morning, I was coming to find you to tell you—”

  “Madeline, we have no time to dally.” The Reverend Mother grasped Madeline’s arm, pulling her away from Gregg. “Mr. Fielding, please excuse us, but we need to get her ready to leave posthaste.”

  Anger grew inside Madeline and she wanted to snap at her superior, but if she did, God would surely strike her dead. She nodded to Gregg. �
�I shan’t be long, I assure you.”

  He nodded. “I will arrange for a wagon to take us into town.”

  After he turned to leave, Madeline followed her superior. Once they entered the Abbey, the older woman slowed her steps and leaned closer.

  “Father Irvine fears somethin’ is goin’ tae happen tae ya if we don’t get ya outta here soon.”

  Relief flooded Madeline’s heart, knowing that the other woman wasn’t as upset as she was worried. “Then let’s not waste any more time.” She hiked up her dress to her ankles and flew up the stairs to her room. It didn’t take long to shove all of her personal belongings into the truck and secure it tightly.

  “I shall go back down and find two men tae help us carry this outside.”

  Madeline nodded, then flung her arms around the other woman, giving her a tight hug. Tears stung her eyes as memories flowed through her. There were indeed happy times here, as well as sad times. She would have to return every year to visit Vivian’s grave, but she was certain Gregg would accompany her.

  “Reverend Mother, thank you for everything you have helped me with…for believing in me and becoming the mother I had desperately needed.”

  The older woman returned a hug. “Ya were a joy tae get tae know. I will miss ya greatly, my child.” She tore away from Madeline and hurried out of the room.

  She wiped the tears from her eyes and glanced around the room. Emptiness filled her heart, but yet she knew marrying Gregg and returning to England was the right thing to do. Asking forgiveness from everyone who she’d wronged three years ago was also the right thing to do. This was what God wanted.

  After a few minutes, boot steps boomed up the hallway. Taking a deep breath, she turned and headed for the door. Just as she reached it, a large figure of a man blocked her way. His dark eyes pierced with malice.

  The Russian soldier!

  “Forgive me, Miss, but I have different plans for you…and they won’t be getting married in a church.”

  Panic surged through her and she opened her mouth to scream. He pulled back his fist and struck her hard across the face. In one quick second—after pain exploded in her head—she collapsed against him as darkness filled her mind.

  Chapter Eleven

  The jarring motion along with the accompanying pain brought Madeline to awareness. She blinked open her eyes, but something blocked her vision. Trying to lift her hands to see what was wrong became useless for they had been bound together at her wrists. The right side of her face throbbed, yet she tried to focus on what was happening to her—and around her.

  She was leaning against a large person, and by the clip-clop she heard and the uncomfortable lump she sat upon, she assumed they were riding on a horse. Breathing in deeply, she also knew what was over her head. A burlap sack.

  Closing her eyes, she willed the pain in her jaw to disappear, but the motion from the horse, wasn’t helping matters any. How long had it been since he took her from the Abbey, she didn’t know, but she could not feel the sun’s rays beating down on her, and even through the burlap sack, she couldn’t tell if the sun was shining or if night had arrived.

  When the horse’s hooves slowed in rhythm, her heartbeat picked up. Would she be able to defend herself if the soldier wanted to treat her like his Scot friend had done? And…did Gregg or the Reverend Mother know she’d been taken? Oh, please…let them know what happened, she prayed silently.

  The neighs from other horses perked her hearing. Wherever they were…they were not alone.

  “Did ya have a problem takin’ her?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

  “None at all,” the Russian answered.

  “Splendid. Maybe now we will get some help tae find out who her contacts are. Bring her over here.”

  Once the horse stopped, the Russian dismounted, and then swung her over his shoulder. She lost her breath for a moment as the pain in her head throbbed uncontrollably, and a different pain grew in her stomach. Only a few steps before he was pushing him off her and she fell to the ground.

  Her burlap hood was quickly removed and she squinted from the light. Thank goodness it was still day. They were in the shadows of trees…a lot of them, she surmised. But nothing looked familiar.

  The Russian stood beside another man wearing the British soldier uniform, but he didn’t appear familiar. However, the older, burly man did, but she couldn’t decide where she knew him. Leaning up against a tree was another man who wore the distinguished clothes of an Englishman. His bright curly red hair was messy, and his face was littered with scabs and scrapes as if he’d been wounded recently.

  “Who are you?” she snapped. “I demand you release me this instant!”

  The men looked from one to the other before they threw back their head and laughed.

  “What do you want?” she asked in a calmer voice.

  “Ah, lass. Ya know wot I want.” The older man knelt beside her and cupped her chin. “Yar a comely lass and I’m sure ya know whot most lonely men want. Yar not a dimwitted lass a’tall.”

  “No. Please, let me go.” She squirmed, trying to remove his touch, but he still held her chin.

  “Yar request has been denied, lass.” He chuckled. “But if ya want us tae go easy on ya, then we expect some answers.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “What if I don’t know the answers?”

  “I’m sure ya do.” He grinned.

  “McFadden, she is the woman Fielding was infatuated with,” the man by the tree said, slowly rising to his feet.

  McFadden? The man from the Crimean War who Gregg came to see? The one who tried to kill Gregg and his friends? That was why he looked familiar—because she had met him once in town a few months ago.

  McFadden looked at the other man. “Do we have need to talk to Mr. Fieldin’ then?”

  The curly redheaded man shrugged. “I don’t believe Fielding knows anything, but if he is still enamored with this woman, he most certainly will try to find her.”

  McFadden cackled. “I’m sure he will, but we shall be ready. Until then,” he glanced back at Madeline, “we need some questions answered. Immediately.”

  “What do you want?” she pleaded. In her heart she prayed Gregg would come for her, yet she also hoped he would bring others with him since he wouldn’t be able to handle four men by himself.

  “We know ya were the one who took information about the prison-break tae someone in town. Although our men were freed from Britain’s clutches, there were still complications and several of our men were killed.” The hold he had on her chin tightened. “We want names, lass. Who knows besides ya?”

  She gasped. “You cannot be serious! What makes you think I have any contacts? For that matter, why do you suspect I’m the one who reported?” She shook her head and peered at the Russian. “Ask him where I was last night. He was there when the truth came out this morning about Mr. Fielding seducing me by the stables.”

  The Russian shook his head and neared. “Because I know you lied. I was by the stables that night and I saw you ride back from town alone. You didn’t meet up with Mr. Fielding until you almost reached the Abbey.” He arched his eyebrow. “So now what’s your story, Miss?”

  Her heart dropped. She was in serious trouble now!

  McFadden shook her by the shoulders. “Tell us what we want tae know and I promise we’ll not hurt ya overmuch.”

  If she squealed like a pig, Father Irvine and the Reverend Mother would die. If Madeline didn’t tell these men what they wanted to know…they would rape her—or kill her. She didn’t think she was strong enough emotionally to handle either situation.

  Slowly, she shook her head. “Forgive me, but…I cannot.”

  McFadden glanced up at the redheaded man. “Come hold her for me while I show her what a real man is like.”

  Laughing, the scratchy-face man knelt beside her and pushed her back on the ground as he held her shoulders. Pain encased her wrists, making her fingers numb. She struggled, but knew nothing was going to help. Only a mirac
le.

  McFadden leaned over and ripped her bodice open before laying his large body on top of hers as he placed his slobbery, disgusting mouth over hers. When he tried to slide his tongue inside, she clamped her teeth down hard. He yelped and jerked back. Blood coated her lip, whether hers or his she didn’t know.

  “Ya should not have done that.” He pulled back his hand.

  This was what the Russian had done before he struck her. She cringed, waiting for the blow, but nothing came. Instead, several footsteps beat on the earth nearby, pounding toward them. Before she could see who had come upon them, the crunching of bones crackled through the air. A fist had connected to the redhead’s face, and he rolled away. Blood spurted out of his nose as he cradled it, groaning, and rocking back and forth.

  The man on top of her was kicked in the head, and he rolled off. She scampered the best she could with her hands still tied, to get away.

  The click of several pistols echoed through the air, and she froze. Beside her, McFadden struggled to his knees, and his wide eyes were fixed on the stranger behind her.

  “You make one more move, sir, and you’re a dead man.”

  Relief poured through her and she sobbed. She spun toward Gregg’s voice, her eyes blurred with tears. She scoped the area and was happy to see Lord Drake held a pistol to the Russian, and two townsmen—her friend, Tom McClain being one of them—had their weapons aimed at the others.

  Gregg stepped toward her and lifted her before untying her wrists. Once freed, she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, pressing her face against his muscular chest. Her body shook as more tears flowed.

  “Shhh, I’m here now,” he soothed and kissed the top of her head. “Are you all right?”

  Her body continued to shake, and she looked up at him. “I didn’t think...I prayed someone would save me.” She swallowed hard the emotion clogging her throat. “Thank you.”

  “Attached to my saddle there is some rope. Fetch it for me and the others, if you will, and we’ll tie these traitors up.”

  She pulled away. “Gregg, that man is McFadden.” She nodded toward the burly man.