The woods were densely packed with black alder, ash, oak, and hawthorn trees and bramble and blackberry bushes, leaving long, murky shadows crisscrossing the green oasis. The scent of earth and vegetation was heavy in the air. Fear tore Rebecca’s breath from her lungs so that it came out in ragged pants as she darted around the trees and over twisted roots, moss-covered rocks, and creeping ivy.
“Lady Rebecca!”
Rebecca cast a wild glance behind her, but just as the forest shielded her from Lady Louisa’s sight, it hid the madwoman from hers. She wanted to continue to run. Everything inside her propelled her into flight, the primordial instincts of a hunted animal. It took all her willpower to pause in her headlong rush and scan the woods with its tangle of bushes and twisting trees.
“I didn’t mean to kill her, I swear to you!”
She still couldn’t see Lady Louisa, but she sounded closer. Panic nearly made her bolt again, but then she saw it—the low-hanging branches of a hawthorn tree surrounded by a sprawling rosebush.
“It was an accident!”
Rebecca ran to the bush, dropping to her knees. The shrubbery was thick, the branches and thorns snagging at her clothes and hair, raking like hot needles against her unprotected face as she burrowed her way through. She could feel warm blood ooze from the scrapes, but she kept crawling until the rough bark of the hawthorn was at her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of brown fur as she displaced a creature—a mouse, rabbit, or rat, she wasn’t sure—from its habitat.
“I went to see her that night to beg her to leave my family alone.” Lady Louisa’s voice was closer now, echoing in the unnaturally silent forest. It was as though all the woodland animals recognized something evil had invaded their domain and had hidden as well. The only sound was the leaves and brush blowing in the breeze and the tumble of water as the Thames’s current rushed nearby.
Rebecca curled up as much as possible and raised a gloved hand to press against her mouth to stop herself from making any noise. From her position, she could see through the leafy mesh to the woods. Her heart jumped when she caught a glimpse of scarlet, as Lady Louisa threaded through the trees, searching for her. Rebecca was grateful that her own riding habit was a dark green, which helped camouflage her from the other woman’s scanning eyes.
“I knew she was to meet my father that night. I found her note in his study. She only need call him and he went running! Even after she humiliated our family.” Rage had seeped into Lady Louisa’s voice. “She was a siren tempting a man to his doom.”
With startling suddenness, Lady Louisa emerged from the trees. Rebecca dug her fingers into her jaw as her gaze dropped to the thick, heavy stick that the other woman was now carrying like a cudgel.
“She was surprised to see me,” continued Lady Louisa. “But she invited me inside. I can see her, you know, if I close my eyes. So confident. So beautiful. So amused. With my family’s jewels around her throat!”
Lady Louisa paused, cocking her head to the side as though listening. Rebecca held her breath, an unreasonable fear taking hold that the other woman might be able to hear the air passing through her lips.
“She poured herself a glass of whiskey,” Lady Louisa continued, “as if I were there for a social visit.” She gave a sharp peal of laughter and Rebecca flinched. The sound held a dark undertone of madness. “Can you imagine? I was pleading for my family’s very existence!”
Lady Louisa began to move again, close enough that Rebecca could hear the snapping of twigs under her feet and the quiet slither of her riding habit’s long train over grass. Rebecca began to shake, the cloying sweet scent of the rose blossoms making her ill.
“That’s when she told me about her unborn bastard, a child that she would use to entrap my father. And she laughed at my horror. She laughed when I mentioned my association with Lord Ludlow. She said that I should resolve to becoming a spinster, that my—my looks could not overcome my lack of dowry. She was wicked, evil to taunt me so.”
Lady Louisa was coming closer, her gaze seeming to strip away the leafy green vegetation around her. She was using the stick now to poke into shrubbery, like she was trying to flush out a hare.
“You understand what it’s like, don’t you, Lady Rebecca? You and I are alike on that score. Always watching men become entranced by a pretty face . . . to make fools out of themselves.”
Rebecca pressed her hand tighter against her mouth. Through the leaves and rose blossoms, she saw the other woman slowly swivel in her direction.
And move closer.
57
Terror rose up inside Rebecca, her eyes fixed on the other woman as she approached the rosebush. Lady Louisa was looking directly at her, as if she could see her through the leaves and roses. Rebecca jerked her gaze away and belatedly dropped it to the grass, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. Hell and damnation—nothing.
Lady Louisa was still speaking. “I would have taken the necklace, but someone knocked at the door. I had to leave through the back entrance. I didn’t realize until today that my father was the one who interrupted—” She broke off.
Rebecca lifted her gaze to see that Lady Louisa had stopped her advancement and was now spinning around to stare off to the left. Then Rebecca heard it, too, a shuffling movement in the undergrowth. Lady Louisa’s mouth twisted into a sharp smile and she moved toward the noise, obviously mistaking a woodland creature for a panicked woman.
Rebecca kept her gloved hand clamped over her mouth as Lady Louisa disappeared into the trees. The other woman had begun speaking again, but Rebecca didn’t pay any attention, too busy thinking about her next move. She couldn’t stay here. As soon as Lady Louisa realized that she’d been hunting a rabbit or fox, she’d be back, her large stick attacking the bushes, and she’d find Rebecca’s hiding place. She thought of Lady Louisa’s horse, his reins tied to a tree near the embankment. If she could get to the animal, she’d be able to ride out for help.
It wasn’t a bad strategy, Rebecca decided. But still she waited, counting the seconds while her eyes and ears strained to pick up any sounds or movement. As the seconds turned into minutes, Rebecca’s nerves stretched taut. Finally, she could bear it no more and she crawled out of her self-made tunnel, the thorns from the surrounding rosebush once again raking across her tender flesh.