Eliza watched him go only turning to enter the library when he had disappeared from sight. The room was simply huge and lined with a vast array of shelving practically crammed with books of all shapes and sizes. They were everywhere, even stacked haphazardly on the floor, waiting to be put onto the already crammed shelving.
“Sorry for the mess.” Eliza jumped as Isobel’s appeared at her elbow.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” Eliza stammered feeling uncomfortable intruding on the woman’s own quiet time.
“You didn’t, I was just leaving. Feel free to help yourself.” She murmured, nodding towards the vast array of books on display. “We recently brought some books over from uncle Bertram’s house before it burnt down, and have yet to find a home for them. I hope Edward will have some when he moves into his own home. We have far too many for us to ever read. If there is anything you need, just ring the bell. The maids are just waiting to serve you.” With a friendly smile of understanding, Isobel patted Eliza’s arm companionably and left.
Eliza took several moments to wander slowly around the large room. The books covered just about every topic known to man.
Shaking her head at the magnitude of the task of simply choosing a book, she picked one off the haphazardly pile stacked haphazardly on the desk and moved to the window seat without bothering to look at the title. She didn’t want to read and had no interest in whatever subject the book covered, but needed a little private time to try to get some order to her jumbled thoughts and take stock of the past few hours.
As she settled back against the soft mound of cushions, she glanced outside at the afternoon sunshine with a shiver. Although the sun shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky, Eliza was chilled to the bon
e. After the events of the past few days, she didn’t think she would ever be warm again.
Her fingers traced the gold scrolling on the book’s spine for several moments as she stared absently out of the window, lost to everything but her solemn thoughts. She just had to get through the next few days. There was not only tomorrow to get through, and Jemima’s funeral, but there was now the following day when Edward left to contend with, and she had no idea which was worse.
She was about to turn back to the book in her hands when something beneath the window outside caught her eye. It looked like a shiny gold coin. Eliza frowned at it for several moments before studying the garden. It didn’t seem the type of thing a gardener would drop, or even have in his possession and directly beneath the window seemed an unusual place for it to be.
Rising to her feet, she moved to the French doors half way down the room and slid the bolts back, shivering a little as the cool air swept over her bare skin.
Carefully picking her way through the shrubs to the place where she had seen the shiny coin, she studied it for several moments trying to make out the writing on the shiny surface. It appeared to be a foreign language. A foreign coin? She was half turned back towards the doors when a large hand clamped over her mouth and she was yanked roughly off her feet.
Immediately she knew the man behind her wasn’t Edward. Apart from the man being smaller and heavier, he also smelled of sweat and indefinable things she would rather not analyze. Eliza’s eyes popped wide as she instinctively fought to free her face from the grimy hand that covered her lips and nose. She could see the edges of her vision turn black as she was denied the need to breathe, and knew that she had to take a breath soon or would be lying next to Jemima.
Desperation clawed at her and instinctively she stomped down on the man’s booted foot at the same time she twisted right around until she was almost facing him. Using his distraction to her advantage, she took a huge breath and screamed as loudly as she could.
The man before her swore fluidly and she knew immediately he was one of Scraggan’s men. She had lived in Padstow long enough to be familiar with the Cornish language, even the profanities. She wriggled and struggled against the man’s firm hold as he immediately rammed his shoulder into her hips and swept her off the ground before crashing through the bushes and making off across the gardens. Eliza screamed the entire way, thrashing this way and that.
At that moment, she didn’t care if he dropped her on her head, as long as he put her down and didn’t carry her off to Scraggan. She continued to scream and protest as she was carried across the vast expanse of lawn. In the distance she was aware of startled shouts coming from somewhere near the house but was too busy screaming to be able to identify who it was. Vaguely she was aware of a number of men thundering past her, heading towards the house and prayed for Edward’s safety.
Despite her frantic wriggling and squirming, her hands were tied behind her back and she was dropped unceremoniously over the back of the horse that was promptly led deeper into the woods, away from the house. From her upside down position she had no idea which direction she was being taken, or how far. Each time she did manage to raise her head, all she could see was the horse and rider carefully keeping pace alongside her. From her prone position, she couldn’t even raise her head enough to see who the man was, whether it was Scraggan, Rogan, both or neither.
She could hear nothing other than the soft thud of the horses’ hooves against the forest floor, and the heavy breathing of the man alongside.
Once or twice she almost slid off, only for the man beside her to grab her dress in one meaty fist and slide her backwards. She wasn’t certain if she was glad or not. Almost certainly the man was taking her to Scraggan or Rogan.
Eventually they drew to a halt in a small clearing. She winced when the meaty fist grabbed the back of her dress again and she was wrenched upwards and off the horse. Her knees buckled beneath her at the abrupt change in her position and she struggled to remain upright as she was dragged forwards.
“Welcome to our humble camp Eliza.”
Eliza’s blood ran cold at the chilling voice that spoke in her ear. Horror swept through her and she turned slowly to stare into the cold, emotionless eyes of Rogan Scraggan. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep her face neutral. She simply stared back at him blankly.
“Not going to say hello?” Rogan murmured, his bottom lip pouting theatrically. It was so out of place for their surroundings he looked ridiculous but was clearly enjoying having the upper hand and success at last.
Eliza stood perfectly still and tried not to show any emotion as he walked slowly around her, belligerently eyeing her up and down as though she was a piece of horseflesh. Her gaze was blank and disinterested as she stared straight ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was disturbing her.
“You probably feel you are too good for the likes of us now that you are in with the nabobs up at the big house.”
Goosebumps rose on her arms as a grubby finger trailed slowly up her arm. She refused to flinch. The only flicker of movement about her was the slight ticking of a muscle in her cheek as she stared straight ahead.
Thwarted by her lack of emotion, Rogan’s face appeared in her line of vision. All traces of humanity gone from his feral eyes as he stared at her, his face inches from hers. She wondered briefly if he was going to try to kiss her and clenched her fists in readiness. But after a few moments of staring at her, he snorted and moved away.
“Come and sit.” He motioned towards the camp fire. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Eliza stared at him for several moments before curiosity won through. She knew that several men were stationed around the small clearing. If she didn’t sit, she had no doubt that one of them would make her.
Although they were close enough to take action if they were needed, they were kept at a respectful distance so they couldn’t overhear the conversation. Eliza knew Rogan planned it this way and clearly planned to interrogate her in an attempt to find out what she knew about their activities.