“Don’t be frightened.” Rogan’s voice was smarmy and chilling. “I won’t hurt you.” The ‘yet’ remained unspoken but hovered menacingly in the air between them.
Eliza slowly moved to the pro-offered seat and perched carefully on the wobbly stone.
“I don’t want you exactly. I just need to ask you a few questions.” Rogan murmured, offering her a dirty can of murky liquid that she presumed was water.
Eliza shook her head and watched as he took a sip and slammed the can on the floor with too much force to match his seemingly relaxed stance. She could feel the brutality shimmering in the air between them and knew enough about the man not to be fooled by his bonhomie. She had little doubt that he could and would suddenly change to an extremely violent adversary in the blink of an eye, with very little provocation.
“I need to know what you wanted from Padstow.” He murmured, his voice low yet vaguely threatening.
Eliza remained silent and simply watched him. Her eyes were steady as they met and held his penetrating stare defiantly.
“You can either talk to me, or I will force you.” He spat when she made no move to answer him. “Talk to me Eliza, or you will regret your silence.”
She could feel the tension shimmering from him and knew he was barely holding his temper in check. The handle of a wicked looking scabbard protruded from the hip of his dirty breeches like a venomous snake. Given his background Eliza had no doubt he knew how to use it to best advantage, but would he stoop so low as to use it on an unarmed woman? Undoubtedly. Eliza couldn’t restrain the shudder that swept through her as she considered the pain such a weapon could cause.
“Why do you want to know?” Her swallowed against the soreness in her throat, her voice hoarse from all of the screaming she had done.
“You and your sister couldn’t keep your noses out of things that weren’t any of your concern. Your sister paid for her curiosity. We g
ot some of the information back but Jemima made it clear that you had the rest.”
Eliza froze inside as she thought of her sister. Had they really gotten to her and questioned her? If so, what had they done to her that she would tell them such a thing knowing she was putting Eliza’s life at risk? The thought of Jemima facing Rogan’s brutality before being forced to the gallows brought forward a burst of loathing so strong that it bolstered her courage, urging her to thwart him.
“I don’t have any information.” Eliza declared flatly.
Rogan launched from his seat and drew nose-to-nose with her. Defiantly she met his stare and glared right back, refusing to be drawn by the scabbard now pointing dangerously close to her face.
“You can threaten me as much as you please but I have nothing to tell you. Jemima was the one who worked with my father and did most of his writing. I ran the house.” Eliza sighed deeply, partly to try to relieve some of the nerves that were wracking through her, and partly to try to convince the vile oaf before her that she wasn’t perturbed by his threatening actions. The last thing she needed was for Rogan to realise just how fearful of him she really was.
“There were papers your father had. Copies of schedules, people and things that are none of your business. We want them back.”
“Schedules of what? What people?” Eliza frowned at him, pretending to be confused by his demands. “What had Jemima copied?” She studied him as closely as he watched her.
He was confused. Perturbed by her lack of emotion and apparent ignorance of the significance of the papers he was after.
“Don’t play dumb.” He murmured after a few moments of silent contemplation, his thin lips curling in arrogant contempt. “You almost had me there.”
Eliza decided to play along anyway and frowned as she watched back. “I have no idea what you mean.” She didn’t flinch when the blade of the scabbard touched her cheek, merely watched him back blankly, hoping she could brazen it out.
“You’re good.” Rogan murmured softly. “But you won’t be if you don’t stop playing games.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Eliza felt her temper begin to fray.
Her thoughts turned to Edward and she immediately felt calmness settle over her. The mere thought of the man who held her heart made her feel a security that belied the seriousness of her situation.
“You can blade me Rogan. You can scream, shout and threaten me with whatever you want, but I don’t have any papers.” She raised a hand when Rogan took a breath to interrupt. “I don’t have any idea you are talking about. Threatening me with anything won’t make the information you want magically appear. I don’t have it.”
“Then what were you doing in Padstow?” Rogan snapped, drawing back and lowering his scabbard.
Eliza could see no reason not to give him a carefully edited version of the truth. “I lost contact with Jemima while I was living in Derby. She didn’t meet me as promised. When Jemima and I decided to leave Padstow we agreed that if we lost contact with each other, we would go home and leave a note giving details of where we had gone. When I couldn’t find Jemima, I had to go to Padstow to see if she had me left a note.” She glared at Rogan accusingly and didn’t add that she didn’t actually make it to Padstow. Clearly the reports he had received hadn’t been as accurate as he thought. “I had no idea at the time that you had set her up and she was awaiting death in Derby Gaol.”
She heaved a sigh of relief when Rogan reluctantly accepted her explanation. He was clearly considering what to do next and sat studying her thoughtfully for several moments.
“She was very easy to set up in the end. Fell for it hook, line and sinker.” Rogan’s arrogance got the better of him and he was clearly driven by the need to boast about his cleverness.
“Fell for what?” Her heart hammered in her chest. She stared in horror at the man opposite, hatred filling her breast for his callous disregard of her sister’s life.
“We told her we had you. If she wanted you to survive she had to meet us at a certain time and place.”