The Barn of the Damned

 

At the crunch of carriage wheels on Kinnettles front drive, Ashton turned from the stairs and opened the front door to find his grandmother’s carriage stopped in the drive. The footman opened the carriage door. Ashton hurried down the steps and reached the vehicle in time to extended a hand to aid his grandmother’s descent.

“What an unexpected delight.” Her fingers closed around his with surprising strength as she stepped from the carriage to the ground.

To his surprise, Linda, Duncan’s wife, followed. As he helped her down, he couldn’t help but noticed that she looked miserable.

“Linda,” he nodded in greeting.

“My lord.” She started to curtsey.

He grasped her hand. “None of that. We are family.”

She gave him a grateful smile and they started up the steps. “Duncan tells me you are wed. Congratulations.”

Ashton returned her smile. He’d always gotten on well with Linda. “Thank you. I will fetch her, at once. We will join you in the drawing room.”

Linda nodded graciously. She dropped her hand over her large belly and followed his grandmother into the foyer.

“Come, Linda,” his grandmother said. “You must rest. It’s brave of you to visit me with your twins due so soon.”

 “Duncan insisted I come,” Linda replied. “He was adamant the twins be born in Kinnettles.”

Ashton closed the door behind him, then turned toward the stairs. He pitied Linda, an unwitting pawn in Duncan’s game to sway their grandmother in his favor. That he could endanger his wife’s health—and potentially that of his children—in the pursuit of land was reprehensible. Linda deserved a much better man.

He reached the third floor and strode down the hall, his thoughts on Ella. From the moment he left her side that morning, he’d counted the minutes till his return. Would his grandmother suspect the truth if he didn’t rejoin her right away with Ella? He wasn’t sure he could wait until after dinner to touch her again.

“Ella?” he called.

He spied the closed bedroom door. Could she be abed…still? He lifted a brow of dry amusement. He had kept her awake a good part of the night. He lowered his lids, imagining the surprise on her face as she woke to his tongue sliding through her pink folds.

Quickly, he crossed the room and opened her bedroom door. The empty bed drew his gaze first. The letter on the counterpane, second.

Ashton strode to the bed, snatched up the letter and broke the wax seal.

 

Ashton,

I can no longer live this lie. I respect and care for your grandmother too much to deceive her. I have left to live a new life elsewhere. Do not look for me. I shall never return.

Sincerely,

Ella Nicholson

 

Ashton stared at the letter, stunned. The words were those of a stranger. True, the two of them had lied to his grandmother in the beginning, but after last night, he’d felt sure she’d begun to care for him. His gaze caught on the line I have left to live a new life elsewhere. Where would she go? With what money? She’d left Cyril. A thread of suspicion wound through him. She would never leave her brother.

He scanned the letter again. His attention caught on her signature. Nicholson. Ella Nicholson? Something was dreadfully wrong. Ella would never refer to herself by that name. She had chosen to forget her past and start a new life with her mother’s name of Wetherby… That new life included him.

She could never have written such nonsense—especially after the night they’d shared.

He spun and strode from the room. At the stairway, he took the steps two at a time. In the foyer, Mrs. Thornton stood speaking to James.

“Ella,” he interrupted. “Have you seen Ella?”

“Why I saw her not an hour ago, my lord. She left with Angel.” Mrs. Thornton paused, then asked, “What is it, my lord?”

The door opened, and Duncan entered. His boots were caked with mud and he looked as though he’d fallen off his horse.

He frowned as he closed the door. “You look positively ill, Ashton. Is something the matter?”

His manner was too rehearsed, too polished. That, combined with the calculated gleam in his eye, confirmed Ashton’s suspicions all at once.

In three strides, he reached Duncan. Ashton grabbed his cousin by his lapel and twisted. “What have you done? I swear, Duncan, if you have harmed even one hair of her head, I will kill you.”

“Whatever is the matter?” his grandmother’s demand sounded behind him. “Ashton, where’s Ella?”

“That’s what I want to know.” Ashton released Duncan and thrust the letter he gripped in his free hand toward his grandmother. “Ella didn’t write this. I am no fool. I know my wife.”

His grandmother took the letter. Her gaze moved across the letter. She gasped, and her eyes snapped onto him. “Every man in this household will look for her, at once. James, gather all the men immediately.”

“Allow me to help,” Duncan offered.

Ashton whirled and drove his fist into Duncan’s belly. Duncan doubled over, wheezing.

Mrs. Thornton gasped.

Ashton seized his collar and yanked him upright. “Where is she?” he shouted.

“Ashton,” his grandmother cried. “What are you doing?” She reached for his arm.

“My lady--” James warned.

Ashton snapped his gaze onto her. It took two heartbeats for him to realize who she was.

“Let him go, Ashton,” she said. “We will find Ella.”

“He knows something, Grandmother.”

Surprise flickered in her eyes and he was startled at the sudden moisture he saw there. “Perhaps,” she said, “but you do not know for certain.”

He hesitated, then released his cousin.

Duncan sagged against the door. “I am not the devil, Ashton,” he wheezed. “You and I may have had our differences, but I wish Ella no harm.”

Ashton clenched his fists again. “By God—”

A dog’s bark cut him off.

He looked sharply at his grandmother.

“‘Tis Angel,” she said.

Angel barked again.

“He left with my lady,” Mrs. Thornton breathed.

Angel barked again and again…

Ashton seized Duncan by the collar, yanked him away from the door, then halted at sight of another figure standing in the hallway near the parlor door.

He locked gazes with Linda, and said, “I am sorry,” then threw open the door.

Angel stood on the top step and stared up at Ashton. He barked, then spun and took off at a run down the drive. Ashton grabbed the lamp sitting on the table to the left of the door, then started after the dog.

“After him, James,” his grandmother ordered.

An instant later, the butler reached his side and they raced after the pug. Ashton marveled at the little dog’s speed. Angel veered from the drive to the path at the left.

The wind rustled through the pines as they raced past the stables. Ashton’s heart pounded. Angel tore down the path ahead of them. Damn, if the animal wouldn’t outrun them. Angel, at last, veered right and disappeared into the trees. Ashton held the lantern up as he and James followed. Panic gripped Ashton.

“Angel,” he shouted. Where had he gone?

“I do believe he is there.” James pointed left.

Ashton squinted and glimpsed the pug as he leapt over a small branch. Ashton pumped his legs harder. To his surprise, James kept pace. They reached the fallen branch, jumped it, and kept going. Ashton glimpsed two glowing pinpoints of light in the darkness up ahead and realized Angel stood in the middle of the path.

When they neared the animal, Ashton said, “Where is she, lad?”

The wee dog whirled and shot away again. A moment later, Ashton realized where they must be going. Dread whipped through him. Nae, it couldn’t be. Memory flashed of his father’s bloody body lying in the barn after the bull gored him. He stumbled, recovered his balance, and kept running.

The dog dashed down the path and in short order, they emerged from the woods. The Barn of the Damned loomed up ahead. Ashton raised his lantern high and glimpsed Angel just before he disappeared around the back of the building.

“Ella?” Ashton shouted as they neared the barn. “Ella!”

Silence greeted him.

“Ella,” he shouted again.

Angel’s growl was followed by a man’s shout. Ashton discerned the gap in the wall. A large figure emerged, then whirled and lunged toward the trees.

“I have him, sir,” James said, and veered after the man.

Ashton practically dove through the opening in the barn wall. The toe of his boot caught on something. He stumbled and crashed to the ground. The lamp shattered and a ribbon of fire raced across the rotted wood of the floor. Ashton shoved to his feet. He whipped off his coat and slapped at the fire, but the old wood blazed with a ferocious life of its own. He had no chance of putting out the blaze.

He whirled, frantically scanning the building. “Ella!” he shouted.

Blood pounded in his ears. The flames seemed to rear up like a mighty steed.

“Ella.” He stumbled forward.

Where was she?

A bark sounded.

Ashton spun left.

More barking.

He sprinted toward the sound and leapt over a fallen beam. The fire blazed, as if giving chase. He jerked his head aside, then came to a skidding halt at the first stall. She wasn’t inside. Angel barked again. Ashton sprinted past the stalls and nearly tripped again when he reached the third stall and saw Ella, ankles and hands bound together behind her back like a damn prized hog. She lay on her side facing him, mouth gagged, eyes wide with terror.

He reached her in two paces and dropped to his knees. He pulled the gag over her head and she burst into tears. Ashton yanked free his boot knife and cut the rope between her wrists and ankles.

“Hold still,” he ordered, and slipped the blade between the knot and her wrists.

In one slice, he freed her, then cut the bonds on her feet. She threw herself into his arms and he dropped the blade.

“I was so afraid,” she sobbed into his shirt. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I know, love.” He closed his eyes. He’d thought the same.

Angel’s barks snapped his mind to attention. He shoved to his feet, pulling Ella up with him. She crumpled into his arms.

“Ella—”

She shook her head. “The bonds were so tight, I—”

Ashton swung her into his arms, spun, and stepped from the stall. Ella gasped. Flames engulfed the path to the opening. Smoke roiled upward in thick, angry coils. Dear God, could they escape? Angel darted left, through the smoke—away from the opening they’d entered. A chill swept down Ashton’s back. The little beastie had yet to fail them.

He crushed Ella’s face against his chest, took a deep breath, and charged after the animal. Smoke engulfed them. His eyes burned. The fire licked at them from the right. He glimpsed Angel racing between the stalls and flames. The doors came into view through the flames. Fear gripped his heart. The doors were boarded shut from the outside.

Smoke burned his nose. Ashton heard distant shouts over the roar of the fire. Wood cracked and sparks exploded around them. He ducked and a cloud of smoke roiled over them. His throat burned.

Another loud crack sounded, and he looked wildly about for the source of the sound. The doors swung open. His vision blurred, but he was sure a dozen large figures shifted in the illumination cast by the fire. Angel—lion that he was—soared through the flames and burst into the night.

Ashton stumbled forward. Ella’s arms tightened about his neck as he, like Angel, leapt over the burning beam. He touched ground, willed his legs to remain strong, and neared the door. Strong hands seized his arms, pulled him and Ella through the door and into the chill yard. He crashed to his knees, dragging in gasps of fresh air.

“Ella,” he rasped. “Are you unharmed?”

She drew back. “Duncan,” was the first word out of her mouth.