The Cursed One Page 8

  “These creatures, Mora. You said they came shortly after you were employed by the head housekeeper here. What did they do to run everyone off?”

  She kept her position across the room, wielding her small knife with precision as she peeled potatoes. “I didn’t see them do anything,” she admitted. “But Constance, the laundress, she said one came to her one night as a man and told her everyone should leave. Then she said the man turned into a wolf before her very eyes.”

  Gabriel scratched the whiskers upon his chin. He was looking forward to a shave and a bath. “And they all fled, strictly on her word?”

  Mora glanced at him. She drew herself up straight. “The woman was respected among the rest of the staff. She’d been with the young lord’s parents. No one thought she was lying.”

  “Odd,” he said, mostly to himself. “That it took so little to convince them all to flee.”

  “Pardon me for saying so, my lord, but it is not a little thing to see a man turn into a wolf, or the other way around. Is it?”

  Her stare unnerved him somewhat. As if she looked deeper inside of him than he wanted her to see. As if she knew the truth about him and his family. But she couldn’t know. All believed the curse that haunted the Wulf brothers was insanity. No one knew the truth. Or did they? He wondered about his brothers, now married. Had they escaped the curse? Was it over for them? He needed to know, but he wasn’t going to find out anything stuck at Collingsworth Manor.

  “I suppose it is odd,” he finally answered her. “If one believes in such things.”

  “Seeing is believing,” she commented, turning back to her task. “You and the lady have both seen now.”

  Mora’s speaking of the lady turned his thoughts to the parlor. Was Amelia naked now, stretched out relaxing in her bath? As much as he tried to steer his thoughts from such visions, he couldn’t seem to help himself. Gabriel still had trouble believing Amelia did not remember coming downstairs last night and practically seducing him. Was she pretending she didn’t remember?

  “Mora, did Lady Collingsworth say anything to you about sleepwalking?”

  The girl took the potatoes she’d peeled and sliced, dumping them in a pot steaming upon the stove. “Yes. She warned me that she sometimes walks in her sleep so as not to frighten me. Now that we’re sharing a bed and all. Never seen anyone who did that myself, but have heard of it.”

  “Did you hear her get out of bed last night?”

  Mora turned and looked at him. “No. Slept like the dead, I was so exhausted. Did she do that last night?”

  At least he knew Amelia had not lied upstairs. “Yes. She came downstairs, although she doesn’t remember it today.”

  “Poor woman,” Mora clucked, turning back to her stew making. “To be widowed on her wedding night, and now all this. She’s holding up better than I imagined a dainty social flower like her would do, though, don’t you agree, my lord?”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “And so kind, she is,” Mora added. “Never worked for the upper crust before coming to this house, but I’d heard not to expect kindness from them. I’d heard they were all too caught up in themselves to care for the likes of a servant. Unless she was pretty and the lord wanted … well, you know.”

  Gabriel didn’t know, not really. When he was growing up, before the curse visited their father and their lives became hell, they had servants. Gabriel didn’t recall anyone in his family being mean to them; he didn’t really recall them at all. They were like ghosts in a house who kept everything running smoothly. He’d had to learn to do for himself. Men wanted the coin the Wulfs offered enough to work for them, stable help and the like, but not women.

  If the Wulfs wanted their clothes laundered, they took them to a woman in a nearby village called Hempshire. Women were willing enough to take the Wulfs’ coin as long as they didn’t have to work for them at Wulfglen.

  He missed his home, his brothers, and suddenly he knew that he, Amelia, and Mora must leave Collingsworth Manor and make it to Wulfglen afoot. Strength in numbers, and the numbers seemed to be on the wrong side at the moment. He would tell Amelia and Mora as soon as he’d had a chance to clean up. He would tell them over the dinner Mora busied herself preparing.

  Amelia entered a surprisingly short time later looking pink and clean and rather embarrassed by the drabness of her gown. “The bath is all yours,” she said to him. “But I’m afraid you’ll smell like Mora and me because of the soaps we used.”

  He shrugged. “A definite improvement over the way I smell at the moment.” He rose from behind the table, feeling the pull in his thigh where Mora had dug the ball from his flesh and stitched him back together. His shoulder ached, as well, but if Mora thought he wasn’t healing properly, no telling what task she might take upon herself next. He did his best to hide his limp as he left the room.

  The parlor was pleasantly warm and steamy. He closed his eyes for a moment and simply breathed in the scent of perfumed soap. The scent of Amelia … and he supposed now Mora, as well. Gabriel hurriedly stripped from his clothing, glad to part with the stained buckskins. He removed the bandages from his wounds and climbed into the warm water. A long sigh of contentment left his lips when he settled back into the tub to soak. Since there was no one waiting for use of the tub, he took his time.

  “Do you think he’s all right in there?” Amelia asked Mora. Gabriel had been attending to his bath for a long while.

  Stirring the stew she now had simmering over the stove, Mora shrugged. “Imagine he’s just enjoying a soak. You can always go see about him if you’re worried.”

  Mora must know her suggestion was improper, but then, being from a lower class, perhaps she did not. If Amelia had voiced such a question to one of her own maids, she would have scurried to check upon the situation. Amelia missed her staff in London, but Robert had assured her one of his staff would be qualified to take over the role of lady’s maid.

  Of course no staff had been at Collingsworth Manor when they’d arrived. She supposed she should tell Mora it wouldn’t be proper for Amelia to go and check on him, that she might accidentally catch him in a state of undress, but why bother under the circumstances?

  Now there was an intriguing thought. Seeing Gabriel Wulf naked. Amelia had already seen him bare from the waist up, had seen his leg … she couldn’t imagine how impressive the entire width and breadth of him unclothed might be. Well, she could imagine, if she tried. But she would not.

  “Can I help you?” she asked Mora, needing a distraction from her wicked thoughts.

  “You can set bowls out for us,” Mora suggested. “The stew will be ready shortly. Wasn’t much to put in it. No meat, I’m afraid. I do have half a loaf of bread and a bit of cheese. That will have to satisfy us.”

  It sounded wonderful to Amelia. All of her life she’d been fed the finest food prepared by the finest cooks, and now, here she was, helping the kitchen help set the table. And looking forward to a meal she might have once turned her spoiled little nose up at. How drastically her life had changed in the space of one day. She would not have believed something like this could happen. And especially to her. For some reason, she’d always thought being wealthy and privileged came with a certain degree of safety.

  She’d always been protected, coddled, given the finest of everything. Seldom had she done anything or gone anywhere in her life when someone wasn’t along with her. It was, in a way, stifling to her. Perhaps that was why she rebelled so much of the time. Now she’d give anything to be surrounded by servants and her family.

  Mora had already set bowls and spoons on the counter beside the pump. Amelia simply had to transfer everything over to the table. It didn’t take long. She was in the process of arranging the last bowl when Gabriel returned from his bath. The sight of him nearly took her breath away.

  He was dressed in a white lawn shirt, open at the neck, and a pair of black trousers that fit him almost indecently snugly. They outlined the powerful shape of his thighs. His hair
was wet and slicked back from his chiseled features, his face now smooth as a baby’s behind.

  “Oh my,” she couldn’t help but breathe. He smiled at her, and she swore her knees went weak.

  Gabriel walked to the table and sobered. “I have made a plan while I soaked and wish to share it with the both of you.”

  Mora hefted the pot of stew to the table, ladling a small potion into her and Amelia’s bowls and a considerably larger portion into Gabriel’s. The girl then fetched bread and cheese. Gabriel seated both women. He settled into his own chair.

  “We need to get away from here,” he said. “We are too vulnerable trapped as we are in the house.”

  Mora gasped. “But won’t we be in more danger outside, amongst them?” she asked. “At least here we have walls to protect us. To keep them out.”

  He shook his head. “It would be easy enough for them to force us out. They could wait until we’ve run out of food and are too weakened to fight them. Foul our water supply. Any number of things.”

  Amelia shivered. She hadn’t thought of any of those scenarios. She wondered if even now the creatures plotted something sinister against them.

  “He’s right, Mora,” she said. “If we left by daylight, if we pack supplies, we might have a chance.”

  “I’d rather starve to death than be eaten by one of them,” Mora muttered.

  “We have decided,” Gabriel said to the girl. “You must come with us, Mora. I can’t in good conscience leave you behind.”

  Amelia felt a thrill race through her over his chivalry, if it was followed by a shudder of fear over what they had decided. At least they were planning an escape. Planning felt better than doing nothing. Mora, she sensed, was not convinced. Amelia reached across the table and patted her hand.

  “We will plan more after we’ve eaten. I’ll need you to help with the supplies. You’ll know better what we should take than I would as far as food—”

  “Ladies,” Gabriel interrupted.

  Amelia glanced across the table at him. He sat very still, his nostrils slightly flared. “There is no time to plan,” he said. “They’ve set the house on fire.”

  She thought he must be joking, but then, no, he wouldn’t tease about a thing like that. Amelia couldn’t smell smoke. But wait, yes, just a whiff. Then there was no time to think. Gabriel sprang into action.

  Gabriel rose from his chair. He glanced around the kitchen and saw the smoke seeping in from behind the cellar door. Damn, they would burn the house from the ground up. Reaching out, he grabbed Mora’s arm and pulled her up from her chair, glad that Amelia had the sense to leap to her feet.

  “Come on,” he said to the women. “We must go now.”

  “But, but shouldn’t we try to put it out?” Mora choked. “What about supplies, clothing? We can’t just run out into the night with nothing!”

  “We must go!” Gabriel repeated. “They’d expect us to take the time to gather what we can. Our best chance to escape is now, at this very moment.”

  “The pistol,” Amelia breathed. “You do have that?”

  Rather than answer, he removed it from the band of his trousers. “Out the front!”

  Amelia easily followed into step behind him, but the girl dug in her heels. Gabriel dragged her along. Since he held the pistol in one hand and Mora’s arm in the other, Amelia hurried forward and fumbled with the locks. She had the door open a moment later. They were greeted by a man, his eyes glittering, his pointed teeth bared in a snarl.

  Gabriel lifted the pistol and shot the man. Mora screamed and Gabriel pulled her behind him, all of them stumbling over the dead man. Gabriel released Mora long enough to shout, “Run for the trees!”

  The girl froze. Amelia took hold of her arm, pulling Mora along with her as she ran. Gabriel followed, the pistol cocked and ready, glancing in front of them, behind them, wherever the threat might spring from. He was surprised they weren’t suddenly rushed. This was what the creatures had wanted, to get them out of the house into the open.

  And like he suspected, they might have believed Gabriel and the women would put up more of a fight from inside of the house or at least that they would take time to gather what they could. At the moment, Gabriel had the advantage. He wouldn’t waste it.

  The pistol was firmly clutched in his hand as he ran after the women. Even injured, Gabriel easily caught up with Amelia and Mora. The girl tripped over a log and he understood that he had advantages the women did not. He saw clearly in the coming dark. He took Amelia’s cold hand in his and instructed her to hold on to Mora; then he led them at as fast a pace as he dared push them, through the woods, into the thickness of the trees, into the thickness of the danger he sensed all around them.

  Gabriel knew a shortcut to Wulfglen. As boys, he and his brothers had used it often to visit Robert. On horseback the journey took only a few hours; on foot, being pursued, it might take days. He stopped for a moment to get his bearings, to allow Amelia and Mora to catch their breath; then he pushed them onward. Gabriel now recalled a place where they might spend the night in relative safety. It was an animal den that he and his brothers had discovered while exploring the area around the swimming pond. Gabriel and the women needed water, and the pond would provide that for them. If the water wasn’t the cleanest, it would suffice.

  “This way,” he instructed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Summer had almost ended and now Amelia felt a chill in the night air. Gabriel finally stopped and allowed them to rest. The moonlight glistened on a small pond and it was much easier to see out in the open, but around them there were no night sounds. It was eerie. She rubbed her arms and drew the cool night air into her lungs. Her throat was dry, either from fear or from their harried journey through the woods.

  She watched Gabriel. He stood very still as if listening, as if sniffing the air. Surely he wasn’t doing that, she told herself. He was just breathing. After a few more moments, he seemed to relax.

  “Drink from the pond,” he said to them. “The water isn’t the cleanest, but I don’t suppose it will kill us.”

  Mora didn’t hesitate. She quickly went to the water’s edge, bent, and began to drink from the pond. Amelia wet her lips, but there was little moisture in her mouth to aid her effort. Now Gabriel had bent beside Mora and also drank from his cupped hands. Amelia forced herself to move and bend beside Gabriel.

  “What does it taste like?” she asked him.

  “Fish,” he answered.

  Amelia deplored fish. She shuddered.

  “It’s not that bad,” Mora offered, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. “But probably a good thing it’s dark and we can’t see it. I’ll wager it has a green tint to it.”

  The thought turned Amelia’s stomach. “I believe I’ll just wait until we come across water that is cleaner.”

  Gabriel lifted his head and glanced at her. “There is a creek that runs a ways through the woods,” he admitted. “But it may be two days before we reach it. Drink now.”

  His tone was commanding. Amelia wanted to balk; at the same time, she wanted a drink. She drew in a deep breath and cupped her hands into the chilly water. Her first sip gagged her. Gabriel had not been exaggerating. It did taste like fish. She forced herself to drink even though the water tasted horrible.

  “What are we going to do now?” Mora asked.

  The moonlight shone down upon him, highlighting the silver-blond streaks in his hair. “I know a place where we can sleep,” he answered. “It’s just over here.”

  They all rose from the pond’s edge. Gabriel led them to what appeared to be a large hole in the ground. “You’ll have to climb in,” he said to them. “I’ll go first. You follow.”

  “In there?” Amelia wrinkled her nose. “It looks dirty.”

  Gabriel sighed. “It’s in the ground; of course it’s dirty. Would you rather stay out here and take your chances with whatever might be tracking us?”

  Amelia wouldn’t, but she hated small enclosed sp
aces. “It looks awfully dark down there,” she commented.

  Mora stepped forward. “I’ll go after Lord Gabriel,” she said. “I don’t like small places, though,” she grumbled, and Amelia could have kissed her for complaining.

  Gabriel scurried down the hole. Due to his size, it was a tight fit, and just watching him made Amelia short of breath. A moment later he disappeared.

  Mora nudged Amelia. “Wonder if anything else is down in that hole,” she said. “A body finds a hole in the ground, there is usually an animal that goes with it.”

  The thought raised the fine hairs on Amelia’s arms. “That is not helping,” she said. “The only consolation, I suppose, is if there is an animal down there, it will attack Lord Gabriel first.”

  Mora surprised her by giggling. She had never heard the girl laugh before. It eased some of the tension Amelia felt over having to climb into the hole.

  “All right, come on, Mora,” Gabriel called, and his voice echoed. “Hurry; we need the cover.”

  The girl sobered quickly. She took a deep breath and began to climb into the hole. Amelia couldn’t watch without feeling a choking sensation close her throat. She glanced around. Here she was in the dark of night in the middle of the woods with two virtual strangers. Her gown was stained and dirty. She had a fishy taste in her mouth, and for all she knew, she was the target of the eyes of some creature that could turn into a man or a wolf.

  A scent caught her attention. Wild mint? While Mora made her descent into the hole, Amelia searched for the source of the smell. She found the patch about the time Gabriel called to her. Gathering up a handful, she stuffed the leaves into her pocket and returned to the hole. As frightened of dark, enclosed places as Amelia was, Gabriel was right. She’d rather face what was down there with them than stay up here and face whatever might come along all alone.