Chapter Twenty
When Sarah left her house, she had been so angry, she cared not in which direction she rode. However, she was not surprised when the oak tree under which she and James had sat came into view; of course, she would go in a direction in which she was familiar. She did not stay long, only long enough for Molly to drink her fill and for Sarah to consider where she would go from here. She considered heading west to find Alice but dismissed that idea almost immediately. Although the girl she had met briefly on her first adventure to Weymouth had told her where she was heading, there was no guarantee she made it there or that she remained there today. No, Sarah could not rely on Alice. She knew what she had to do—she had to make her way back to the Horse and Plough and once again attempt to find her dreams. And although her first visit had not shown to be successful, since the ocean had led her back to James, she would not give up on the magic she knew resided there.
Also, perhaps the ocean had been partially correct. She had renewed her love for James. It was sad, however, that her heart had been crushed once again. She had learned a lesson through all that had happened. She was not meant for the life in which she lived, a life more difficult than any ten women could endure. Yet she somehow managed to suffer through it all. Through all the hardships and adversity, she had survived. Perhaps it was because something better and more appropriate waited for her elsewhere. This brought her thoughts once again to Weymouth. The docks, though filthy and permeating an odor so abhorrent it caused her stomach to churn, still held a promise that her dreams would be there.
No, this life was not meant for her; her life was on the sea, or at least near it.
Molly trotted along, her hooves sloshing through the water that had pooled in the lowest parts of the road. Sarah feared that those pools would become impassable, leaving her to her own defenses very soon. The small bag of coins she had attached to the inside of her skirts before she had gone downstairs, more than likely her subconscious telling her everything would go wrong, thumped against her leg, reminding her that she had the funds to return to the inn she had passed along the way, where she could be dry and warm for the night. All she needed was enough to rent the room and get a warm meal. Then, when Peter gave her back her job at the Horse and Plough, she would earn enough money to live on while she waited for her dreams to come true.
As the last rays of sun fell below the horizon as it highlighted the downpour, Sarah found herself at a junction and she stopped. It was not too late for her to turn back and go to the inn. In the morning she could return to the road and continue her journey to Weymouth. She wiped at her face, unable to distinguish the tears that fell from the rain on her cheeks.
She heard the sound of the horses’ hooves and soon two horses came into view. The riders had their heads down against the rain as they trotted along, hiding their faces from view. When they saw her, they brought their horses to a stop in front of her, and though she recognized the voice of the man who spoke, she could not place it.
“Good fortune has come to us tonight, eh, Marcus?” the man said. “Here we are on our way to get her and she comes to us.”
He laughed and Sarah shook her head, confused by his words. The man who spoke got off his horse, his figure dark in the night. She froze as he walked up to her, though everything inside her told her to ride away quickly and never look back.
As he took Molly’s reins, he glanced up at Sarah, and she gasped as she recognized the man with one eye from the Horse and Plough, Harry, with his mischievous smile, the same smile he had had on his face that night when he had tricked her into allowing him to kiss her hand. The kind man who had listened to her woes was nowhere to be seen.
“Well, hello, gorgeous. Your prince has arrived.” He let out a laugh that made Sara’s skin crawl.
Sarah knew not what to say or do, but it all seemed to happen within two heartbeats. Harry pulled out the largest knife Sarah had ever seen in her life and slid it down the saddle, creating a deep gash in the leather. If his actions meant to bring terror into Sarah’s heart, it worked beautifully for she wondered if she would ever breathe again, her throat was so constricted with fear. Then the man’s brutish hands moved to her waist and a moment later she was carried over and thrown unceremoniously over his horse. She tried to pull herself up but he brought his hand to the middle of her back as he placed himself behind her in the saddle.
“Get your hands off me!” she demanded, shocked at his actions.
“You calm down now.” He said something to the other man she could not hear, then her heart began to race even harder.
“What are you doing to me?” she cried as the horse began to trot down the road, her head and feet bouncing from the movement.
“A woman such as yourself don’t belong in no fancy estate or a pub,” he said with a laugh as the horse began to pick up speed. The passing road was making her feel nauseated, and she was glad she had not had the chance to eat as of yet or she would have lost anything remaining in her stomach.
She attempted to look up, but all she could see was his side as the rain pelted her face. “Where do I belong then?” she sputtered, the up and down motion making it difficult to breathe.
“With me,” Harry said, then let out a laugh, in which his friend joined.
Sarah held onto the leather of the saddle, tears of anger, humiliation and fear running down her face. She had gambled with her life when she ran away, hoping this time it would work out for the best. Once again, however, it had failed miserably. Her tragic life had now worsened, fate seeming to rear its ugly head in the worst way possible.
***
The horses came to a stop and Sarah slowly opened her eyes. Her head hurt, her body ached and everything came back to her at once. She had been kidnapped, and by road pirates nonetheless. It was just like the adventures about which she had read and had often slightly exaggerated to others. Now it was truly happening to her. Somehow, the thought brought about a quick smile to her face. Her first novel-worthy adventure. Perhaps now her prince from the sea would come and save her. However, the rough hands that grabbed her brought her back to reality as she was placed onto her feet.
“I demand to know where we are!” Sarah shouted as she brought her hands to her hips. Kidnapped or not, she was cold, wet, hungry and beyond angry.
“Hear that, Harry? She ‘demands’,” Marcus said. He appeared to be the age of thirty, though his face worn as the leather on his horse’s saddle.
She shot him a glare that should have turned him into a pillar of salt, but all it did was bring on another bout of mocking laughter.
“Told she’s a feisty one, but that’s how I like ‘em,” Harry said, grabbing Sarah by the arm and leading her along a path to a small cottage. Harry opened the door and pushed her inside, the room so dark, she wondered if it was a cave with a cottage facade. A scratching noise brought on a few sparks until a flame flickered at the end of a stubby candle which sat in the middle of a rough wooden table. A fireplace sat along one wall, wood already piled high but unlit. Against another wall was what appeared to be a small kitchen area with wooden shelves underneath a short counter, chipped plates and cups lined up haphazardly. The only other door besides the one which led outside was one Sarah suspected led to a bedroom, as no bed or pallet was set up in the room where she now stood.
“This is going to be your new home for a while,” Harry said, a grin on his face, his one good eye looking her up and down.
Sarah gulped, crossed her arms over her stomach, and watched as his smile widened. His tongue came out and licked his lips, much in the same way as a predator ready to eat his prey.
Despite her anxiety over her abduction, her anger helped keep her mind sharp. “I will have you know,” she said as she straightened her back and lifted her head proudly, “that I am engaged to a Duke, and he will tear you apart with his bare hands, he is that strong. Now, if you allow me to go at once, I will forget this matter ever happened.”
“You sure I can’t have some fun before I go?” Marcus asked as if Sarah had not spoken.
“She’s all mine,” Harry slathered as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of coins, which he gave to Marcus. “Five pounds, just like I promised. We will stay here a week until the searching for her dies down. Then we’ll move on.”
Sarah could not believe her luck. Not once now, but twice, men had used money in exchange for her. It was true that class had no meaning; all men were animals.
“Sounds good to me. I’m gonna head out now, leave you two love birds alone.” Marcus tossed the bag of coins in the air and caught it again. “There’s an inn close by where I can stay.”
Harry followed him to the door where the two exchanged words Sarah could not hear, and then Harry closed the door behind Marcus.
Sarah’s legs grew weak as Harry approached her, his eyes gleaming. She swore she saw drool gathering in the corners of his mouth.
“You sure are a beautiful one,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “And you are going to make a beautiful wife for me.”
“I will not marry you, Harry,” Sarah said firmly. The gall of the man to assume he could tell her what to do! She needed to talk some sense into him, but she was unsure if he had the wit to understand. “I am already to be wed.”
“You will, love,” he said as he ran a finger down her cheek. “Now, before it gets too late, I’d like a cuppa tea. So get going.” He indicated the kitchen with a flick of his thumb.
Never in her life had Sarah been talked to in such a manner. The boldness of this man and his demands outweighed his feat of kidnapping her by far.
“Hurry up now,” he said as he pushed her toward the counter. “You gotta learn to listen.” He patted her bottom.
Sarah put her hand on her chest in astonishment. They had only just arrived a few minutes before, and his violation of her already had already began. The thought of slapping him came to mind, but instead she withheld it. Perhaps now was not the best time to rile up the man.
“Fine,” she snapped. “I feel like having a cup of tea myself.” She stuck out her chin and stormed off to the kitchen area to look for whatever she would need to prepare the tea.
“Do whatever you want, love. In a few hours we are going to celebrate our marriage, if you know what I mean.” His words brought a chill to Sarah as she considered what he meant. And the more she thought on it, the more that chill turned to terror. How could she allow such a man to lay a hand on her?
She had to somehow bide her time and figure out a way to escape before whatever he meant as a way to celebrate came to pass. The only question was, would he be willing to wait until that time?