Ginelle felt a scream wedge tight in her throat as she scrambled to escape the carriage. Just as she reached for the door, rough fingers seized her arm, jarring her backward as the carriage propelled forward, accelerating her terror tenfold.

            Gasping to bring air into her lungs, she hastened to put space between her and the sum of all her fears regarded her through cold, black eyes.

            “Pierino…” his name escaped her throat on a horrified gasp, her limbs tensing for the unexpected as his thin mouth twisted cruelly into a grin.

            Her eyes slanted fearfully towards the door, her body stiffening with anticipation.

            “I don’t think it wise to provoke me, kitten.” Pierino’s guttural voice growled, his eyes glinting sharply in the small compartment of the carriage.

            Her heart leapt against her breast, her mouth suddenly dry as her mind hastened to think logically past her fear. “I have not forgotten our last encounter.” He said harshly, “Ye seem to forget that I am yer guardian.”

            Despite her fear, Ginelle felt an immediate rush of anger. “I forget nothing.” She exclaimed, “You took advantage of a helpless child, you are scum!”

            Pierino’s eyes glinted suddenly with surprise, “I do not approve of yer newfound bravery, girl, and I tire of it already. What has prompted such a change in ye, eh?”

            Her stomach rolled with revulsion as his black eyes assessed her from head to toe. “Ye no longer fear me?” a black brow arched curiously, his eyes twinkling maliciously in the dim light of the carriage. “Mayhap I should test yer bravado, if I remember; ye fought me like a wildcat the last time.”

            She paled beneath his black gaze, her blood rushing with a sudden, gripping fear for her unborn child. She lifted her chin, her eyes flashing defiantly. “I will fight you tooth and nail if you touch me.”

            He laughed the sound rolling precariously from his throat like venom. “Methinks ye speak with a pretense tongue, girl.”

            Her hands trembled in her lap and she prayed he did not see her fear lingering just beneath the surface as she straightened her spine and met his onward stare. “I’m not a child anymore. I am no longer afraid of you.”

            There was a moment of stillness, just the slight rocking of the carriage and Ginelle tensed, expecting the blow. It came so suddenly, rocking her backward with enough force to wrench a cry from her throat.

            Instinctively one hand rushed to her inflamed cheek, her eyes clouding with tears as her other hand moved to her swollen belly, terrified that another blow would be struck to her midriff.

            He chuckled, forcing her attention as he leaned back against the leather seat. “Precisely what I had assumed.” His eyes hardened as he said, “No need to worry yer little head, ye are no good to be dead.”

            Her heart shuddered in warning when his gaze fell to her hand pressed protectively against her belly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the evident bump beneath her layers of clothing. She quickly rushed to interrupt the process of his thoughts.

            “How do you know Victoria?” her voice trembled as she asked the question and slowly lowered her hand to her lap.

            His eyes met hers, his lips peeling back from uneven teeth as he said, “Ah, the avaricious red-head? She finds ye a great obstruction. She called upon me. She wanted ye gone, I merely obliged her, twas as simple as that.”

            The banquet. Ginelle thought suddenly. She must have seen us. “And Lord Sharp?”

            Pierino grimaced and waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss the man. “He was derived from the woman he was not apart of my agreement with the red-head.”

            Ginelle’s eyes averted to the window, her heart sinking heavily in her chest for they were no longer in town and now traveled a desolate road.

            “Ye have led many to believe ye are this – Miss Pattinson?”

            Turning away from the window, she peered at him coldly. “To rid myself of you.”

            He smirked, “Ah, but ye failed miserably in doing so.”

            Her jaw hardened as her hands squeezed the material of her cloak. “It would appear so.”

            “Are ye not curious to know where I am taking ye?”

            She tilted her chin, “I cannot make sense of your reasons for wanting me, and I am tired of running.”

            A knowing glint sharpened the edge of his black eyes and she shivered despite her wavering bravery. “Mayhap ye would be more interested in the happenings of yer father’s death?”

            Ginelle jolted as if the carriage had come to an abrupt halt. Her heart leapt against her chest as though it would burst through flesh and bone, unaware that her fingers grasped the leather seat beneath her. “What did you say?” her voice quivered in a whisper.

            “Yer father?” he said tauntingly, “Was yer father not Ross Hayes, the blacksmith?”

            Ginelle pulled away from the leather at her back, the profound beating of her heart pulsating in her ears as she struggled to contemplate his jeering words. “H-how do you know my father?”

            “I know great deal more, kitten.” He said his voice laced with satisfaction at having drawn her back into his control.

            “W-what do you know of my father?” her chest rose and fell with trepidation as a numbness filled her limbs, she felt her throat closing tightly as a terrifying notion set heavily in her mind. “Did you kill my father?”

            His thin lips peeled away into that sinister grin, his eyes favoring a savage gleam. “I take my profession very seriously and any distraction that may get in the way must be removed effectively.”

            The tears came painfully in a flood of emotions as Ginelle struggled to absorb his words and the horrifying realization that her sweet, doting father had been murdered by this heinous man. “Why?” she demanded, her fists curling in her lap as she glared at him through tearful eyes. “He harmed no one!” she resisted the urge to leap across the space separating them, for fear of her child, she remained seated, her limbs trembling with suppressed fury. “He was a sweet man and you killed him, you bastard!” she hissed uncontrollably.

            He startled her by jumping forward and seizing her around the neck. She gasped, her eyes widening with fear as his fingers tightened warningly. “Cease yer tongue, girl. Ye will learn to submit and know yer place for I can snap yer little neck like a twig.” He shoved her away and she gasped for air, her fingers along her reddened throat.

            “Why?” she rasped, a single tear slipping along her face, “Why did you kill him?”

            “As I said-“ he started, “-I take my profession very seriously. I was informed well enough to know what was asked of me. Kill yer father and bring ye to the baron.”

            Ginelle frowned, “I-I don’t understand? Who is the baron?”

            Pierino smirked, “My employer.”

            Her frown deepened, “You were paid by this man to kill my father and take me to him? Why?” she demanded.

            Black eyes glistened knowingly. “What do ye know of yer mother, girl?”

            Ginelle stiffened, taken aback by the sudden alarm of fear that coursed through her body. “My m-mother?” her stomach churned with dread, her mind turning to the locket close to her heart. “Did you kill her as well?” she spoke the question so softly, fearful of his reply.

            “Hah!” he laughed coldly, “I am afraid I cannot take credit for that one.”

            Ginelle frowned, “Than why do you ask? What do you know of my mother?”

            “Yer mother was a baroness, kitten, did she not tell ye?”

            Ginelle blanched, “You speak falsely.” She shook her head, her thoughts spinning uncontrollably.

            A black brow arched, “Ye are so certain that I speak an untruth, yet ye do not know anything of yer own mother, but her name?”

            Her chest tightened painfully, “My father would have mentioned it.”

            “Nay, Ross Hayes conjured a life of lies to keep ye protected, to keep ye from yer real father, the Baron of Cambridge.”

            She shook her head, “You are lying!”

            Pierino jerked forward, his expression twisting with annoyance. “Yer ‘father’ was an English lord, companion to Lord Alfred Sterling betrothed to the Lady Anne Montgomery, yer mother, no?” he paused than continued, “The marriage proceeded as intended but yer mother had other plans. Infatuated with another man she fled the baron and intended for a peaceful life with her English lord.” He sneered mockingly, “They thought to conceal themselves as peasants, live a life of poverty all for the foolishness of love.” He said the words with disgust as he sank back into the seat. “The baron learned of my talents and called upon me to bring ye to him.”

            “How do you know for certain that I am this man’s daughter?” she demanded, her heart heavy.

            “I know naught of fact on that part. Yer whore of a mother was not so discreet in her endeavors. The servants informed their lord of secret meetings with the English man. She fled like a coward and it wasn’t long before a servant informed Sterling that she carried either an heir or a bastard.” He laughed, “It matters naught to me what ye are, ye are simply a means to an end on my part.”

            “Was it the baron’s plan to keep me a prisoner of your cruelty as well?”

            Pierino laughed harshly, his grin contorting his face all the more heinous. “I claimed I am a man of many talents, I seek only to please myself and myself alone. I could not resist in taking full advantage of the opportunity that presented itself. A baron was asking for my assistance, how could I not take control in my favor?”   

            Ginelle’s eyes narrowed in disgust, “I was just a child.”

            He smirked, “All the easier to mold ye as my puppet. It was all very simple; I had ye in my grasp and squeezed the baron dry.”

            “You ransomed me.” She said assertively, disgusted by this evil man sitting across from her.

            “Bribery goes a long way, girl, and I thought why not make a profit off ye, no? I was yer benefactor, I deserved a bit of compensation for my generosity.”

            “You are pathetic, weaseling your way through pockets.”

            His face hardened, “I make a living how I choose, wench. Ye have done just the same, swindling the wealthy; tell me, has the Ashford bastard tasted ye?”

            Ginelle paled beneath the black scrutiny of his stare. “I am nothing like you.” She stated adamantly. “Will the Baron not be angry that you trifled with his money, misled him all this time?”

            Pierino smirked, “I expect naught else but his fury. He is not expecting us so that may buy me some time to get what I came for. I have ye to dangle before the baron, any threats made on my person will be put upon yer head.”

            Ginelle shivered as she sank deeper into her cloak and peered out the window, her heart persistent in its hammering against her chest. Her thoughts shifted to Dorian and immediately her heart sank with grief. He would never know what happened, he would never find her because who would suspect she was the supposed daughter of the Baron of Cambridge?

            Would she be a prisoner or a guest? Was this man truly the man who sired her? She cared not for Ross Hayes was and always will be her father, he raised her, adored her as his own, whether her blood bespoke of a different heritage, she knew in her heart that he was her father and he had loved her, he had not taken his own life as she had suspected, he had been brutally murdered, no matter what the Lord of Cambridge intended to say, she would not be deterred by the love and adoration she had as the daughter for Ross Hayes.

**********

            Dorian left The Silver Wind, his heart feeling light and elevated, a feeling he had rarely known his entire life. How could he ever make amends for his accusations? Stefan claimed that she loved him, than why had she not told him? Why had she not said anything of the child cradled in her womb belonging to him?

            He had to make things right, he desperately needed to know if she loved him as Stefan had maintained, he needed to know for his very own heart beat with an everlasting love that could no longer be denied. He would claim Ginelle as his wife; love her for all the days to come. He couldn’t imagine life without her sweetness, the fire in her eyes that asserted her defiance, her big heart nestled in her little frame. He would be a hollow, desolate soul without this woman.

            He found his horse and mounted, his body aching from the lingering results of his wounds. He had not given much thought to his condition when he left the manor, his thoughts had clearly been elsewhere, but with the combination of the bitter cold, it all but worsened his state.

            He had been fortunate to escape that blackened hole. With the capture of the Spaniard King, the Royal Navy had discovered several of the Spaniard’s retreats, including the imprisonment where he had been kept. Once he informed the Captain of his station, he was released without further questioning.

            He had wanted nothing more than to personally deliver Reyes to the ground but he would have to settle for the outcome that had occurred. He had wanted to avenge the lives of his crew lost, and though Reyes had not died by his hand, his death would compensate for his departed men.

            Once he reached Ashford he could not withstand the anticipation any longer. He dismounted and the stable boy rushed forward to take Lafeu as he started for the manor. His wounds caused him great discomfort but he gritted back the pain and started up the stairs towards Ginelle’s room.

            He was startled to find her room empty and cold. Frowning, he turned and proceeded down the hall, checking rooms as he passed them by. A feeling of unease started heavy in his belly as he searched the manor, his unease growing towards an unsettling fear.

            “Milord!” Lucile rushed from the parlor as he reached the bottom stairs, the older woman’s face pinched with distress as she approached frantically.

            “Where is Ginelle?” he demanded.

            The housekeeper shook her head, “She left without any notice, monsieur. I found her gone several hours past. I believe she went in search of you.”

            Dorian felt a coldness envelop his limbs. “What did you tell her?”

            “I told her you had to speak with Lieutenant Stefan, monsieur. I did not think she would go alone to find you.” The woman’s voice trembled with evident worry.

            Dorian felt a terrible and unimaginable fear seize him in a black shroud. She knew he had gone to the other side of town, to the Eastern harbor.

            Immediately he thought of all the perilous dangers that awaited a woman on the streets of that part of town. His thoughts quickly shifted to Pierino and his heart lurched against his chest, a sickening feeling twisting his gut.

            The two of them jolted as the sound of wheels rolled to a stop before the manor. Whirling on his heels with Lucile close behind, they rushed outside to find Henry, the coachman, leaping to intercept them.

            “Henry-“ Lucile gasped as Dorian swept past the older man and housekeeper to jerk open the carriage door only to find the small compartment empty and dark.

            “Milord-“ Henry started fearfully.

            He pivoted his face red and his expression torn as he seized the smaller man by his collar. “Where is she?” he demanded, his fingers tightening around the man’s shirt.

            “I-I warned h-her, milord.” Henry stammered his eyes wide and alarmed. “She w-would n-not listen.”
            The muscle at his jaw flexed dangerously as he struggled to control his rising temper and the terrible feeling that something inconceivable had happened to her. Pierino must have taken her. She had gone looking for him and must have been abducted by the bastard. “I’ll kill him.” He vowed murderously, shoving Henry from his grasp as he spun around and started for the stables.

            “Monsieur-“ Lucile rushed at his heels, “Monsieur- what do you think you are doing? You need to rest, you are not healed, please allow me to call upon-“

            “No!” he growled, turning to catch the housekeeper by the shoulders, her expression shifting to astonishment at the apparent signs of fear clouding his blue eyes. “Have Ives seek out Stefan, do you understand? I do not have time to find him myself.”

            Lucile nodded, her dark eyes widening with tension. “What has happened?”

            “I fear Ginelle’s past has caught up with her.” He said more to himself than to Lucile. “Find Stefan and have him meet me in town once more, understood?”

            She nodded and he released her as he turned and headed into the stables. Lucile felt a tremor shiver down her spine. Had something happened to Ginelle? Would she lose her young mistress? The alarming thought brought on a rush of tears, and for the first time in nearly four years, the older woman cried.

**********