Eliza eyed the beast warily and dug her heels in as she was dragged towards it. She squealed in alarm as a rope was suddenly draped around her neck and she stared in horror at the horse as realisation dawned.
Everything within her froze as the cold reality of what they were about to do dawned on her. Panic rose as the coarse fibres of the twine scratched her tender flesh and fought with everything in her as they tried to get her onto the horse’s back.
Was this what Jemima had been through? She didn’t know what was worse. Being in woods, cold and alone with no hope of salvation or being hung by an expert, with people nearby to hang off your legs and break your neck to quicken your death.
“You can’t do this.” Eliza shouted, feeling sick as she stared death in the face. Frantically her eyes searched the clearing for any signs of Edward or Peter, but she could see nothing but leaves and trees. She could hear nothing but the soft rustling of leaves in the thick canopy high above and the soft snuffle of the horse chosen to carry her to death.
“Oh I think you will find I can.” Rogan’s voice was merciless as he pushed her upwards.
She kicked and struggled, ignoring Rogan’s biting orders and vociferous cursing and fought for her life. Briefly she thought she had won as Rogan suddenly stopped trying to push and appeared before her. Hopes were wildly dashed as she was smacked harshly across the face, stunning her for those few precious moments.
It was Rogan and his helper needed to wrestle her onto the horse. Within moments, she was sitting astride the huge beast, the rope strung over the thick, coarse branch of the huge oak tree directly above her.
She stared across the fields, everything within her frozen in time; waiting for that fateful slap of the horse’s rump that would send it on a mad dash, and drop her into death’s waiting arms.
Chapter Thirteen
Some unique sense of self preservation, something so intrinsically raw settled around her and she felt an innate sense of calm settle over her. Briefly she wondered if it was Jemima, come to help her through the last few moments of her life. But she knew it went far further than that.
Edward.
He was everything she had ever considered good and right in the word, and far out of her reach. He had fought for her, suffered hardships for her, taught her to trust and believe in the goodness of people whatever life threw at her.
She could only be glad Edward would be spared the ordeal Peter had been put through and wouldn’t be present to watch her die. Her heart ached for everything they were going to be denied. If she could have her chance again, there was absolutely nothing over the past few days she regretted and would indeed do it all again.
With her thoughts locked firmly upon the vision of Edward’s handsome face, she closed her eyes and began to pray.
The slap on the horse’s rump made her jump. The sudden slide of the soft fur against the soft skin of her inner thighs was over all too quickly. She gasped in frozen horror, a scream lodged in her throat as the thick rope tightened around her throat as she began to fall.
Suddenly her hips were encased in strong arms and she was held aloft. Although the noose around her neck was tight, it wasn’t strangling her and didn’t pose any threat to her life.
“Stay still.” Edward growled, trying to juggle her weight and prevent her from toppling out of his arms while Sebastian sliced the rope.
Within moments the noose was dragged over her head and dumped unceremoniously onto the floor.
“Thank God.” Edward murmured, clutching the back of her head in one hand as he stared down into her eyes.
“Oh Edward.” Eliza gasped, tears shimmering in her eyes. Without hesitation she drew his head down to hers and kissed him with a fierceness that was driven by the need to reaffirm her life. Briefly he returned the kiss before easing her backwards and sweeping her into his arms.
“Let’s go home.” He whispered, unable to tear his eyes off hers while he carried her through the woods towards Guinness who was waiting patiently for his master.
“I thought I’d lost you.” Edward growled, his heart still hammering wildly in his chest at just how close they had come to losing her. If he had stumbled on the uneven forest floor, or they had not been able to fight their way through the men who had approached the house, Eliza would have been dead. Murdered in the same way as her sister.
The fierce glint in his eyes matched the rigid set of his stern face as he eased her on to Guinness’ broad back and mounted behind her. The sight of her sitting upon the horse, the noose around her neck as she awaited death would remain with him for the rest of his life.
They had arrived at the site minutes after Eliza, and had overheard the conversation between her and Rogan. The highly trained militia sent from the War Office, the Star Elite, had swiftly moved into position and began to work their way through Scraggan’s men, taking each man out individually, as quietly as spectres in a graveyard.
Thanks to them, every one of Rogan’s men was now tied together in readiness for their long walk to Derby.
Edward settled her before him on Guinness’ broad back and nudged him towards home. His mount was the most trustworthy animal Edward had ever had, and could be trusted to find his own way home leaving Edward with nothing more to do than stare down into Eliza’s beautiful amber eyes, savouring the knowledge that she was alive and safe.
“Who are they?” Eliza whispered, nodding to the group of heavily armed men who were moving around Rogan’s camp with a silent efficiency.
“They are the Star Elite. The group of men, ex-soldiers, guardsmen and so on, Dominic and Peter rounded up to go after the smugglers in Norfolk. While Dominic and Peter returned to Leicestershire and Oxfordshire to run their estates, the Star Elite have continued working with the War Office, protecting the country’s borders. They arrived this morning with Sir Dunnicliffe.”
Even through the layers of clothing they both wore, Edward could feel the fine tremors sweeping relentlessly through her. Eyeing the thin material of her dress, he drew her against his warmth and savoured the feel of her snuggling against him.
“Wait!” Eliza murmured, glancing over his shoulder towards the meadow. The sudden rigid set of her back made him draw Guinness to a stop and look behind him.