Page 88 of My Secret Duke
At least she was free now. She could try to get to higher ground and then find her way back to Whitmont once it was light. She could…
He wrenched her hands behind her back, making her cry out. Twisting, she saw that there was a thick post behind her, hammered into the ground, perhaps a marker to show travelers the way. He was already tying her hands to it, the rope biting into her flesh. Satisfied, he gave the bindings a tug, and stepped back to survey her.
Apart from the light of the lantern, there was nothing but darkness in every direction. Water soaked into her skirt where she knelt, swirling around her, and with a gasp, she scrambled to her feet, pressing back against the pole as if it would save her from the rising tide.
“You’re going to leave me here?” she said. “Please. You can’t.”
He pulled a pitying face. “Alas, I can.”
“Then please, leave me the light!”
“Alas, I cannot do that either.”
As she watched in horror, he extinguished the lantern. Now she couldn’t see anything, not even him. As she stood, shivering and afraid, his whisper reached her from the darkness. “Adieu, my lady.”
His steps faded. She heard the sound of wavesmoving through the deeper channels that crisscrossed the marsh. Louder and louder as the water encroached.
Olivia sank down, her legs no longer holding her up, aware of the appalling situation she was in. He had said he was not a cruel man, but that wasn’t true. He was the worst of men to leave her here to drown. To die.
She twisted from side to side, trying to see something, anything. The water was rising quickly now, and even if she was free, it would be too late to find safety. Where was Whitmont? If she could just see the lights of the house, at least she would know how far she was into the marsh. And then she did see a light.
It winked and faded and then brightened again.
A sob rose up in her throat. “Ivo…” She knew there was no use feeling sorry for herself. If she was ever to see him again, then she had to try to escape and find her way back to him.
But her bindings were tight, and the more she struggled, the more they cut into her skin. The top of the post was high, two feet at least above her head. Could she reach up and bring her bound hands over it to free herself? Struggling up, she stood as tall as possible, and lifted her hands up. It was painful. Her shoulders hurt as if her arms were being pulled out of their sockets.
She tried again and again, but it was no use. Why had he not tied her hands in front of her? But she knew why.
Olivia looked again for the light, and that was when she realized it was raining. A short sharp shower passed by, drenching her, but once the rain was gone, the light was back. She kept her eyes fixed on it as if it was her salvation. Her mind began to go into all sorts of strange places.
Her sisters, and Gabriel. Her grandmother. Ivo—most of all, Ivo.
He would find her, and they would live a long and happy life together. Tears ran down her cheeks, feeling strangely warm against her cold skin. The water was gushing now. It was not just in the channels, but had spilt over onto the marsh itself. She could do nothing but stand there, a sacrifice, as it crept higher and higher. Soon, it was over her knees, and then to her waist.
When she heard the voices, she did not at first believe it. Could it be that the man had changed his mind and decided he could not do it after all? But… it sounded like Ivo! And Charles.
She called out. The water was slapping at her chin now, cold and deadly. Surely fate could not be so cruel as to drown her when help was so close?
Suddenly, they were shouting, and water was splashing up into her mouth and eyes, and Ivo’s beloved face appeared in front of her. His hair was slicked against his head, and water was clinging to his eyelashes, but he was grinning.
“Olivia,” he said, “my love. My sweetheart. I have you. Thank God, I have you.” He looked around, and shouted, “Charles, the knife! Rendall has tied her up.”
Then he had ducked down beneath the water, and she felt the ropes being sawn apart, her hands too cold by now to feel pain. She was free, and he lifted her—the water was up to his shoulders—and began to wade toward Charles, who appeared to be on higher ground. Wet and shaking, she tried to speak, but her teeth were chattering too badly.
“You’re safe now,” Charles told her. Then, urgently, “Ivo, please tell me there’s a way out of here?”
“Follow me.”
Ivo didn’t put her down, he carried her as they walked across the marsh, back to safety. Eyes fixed on Whitmont’s guiding light.
Chapter Forty-Three
Afterward, it felt like a blur. Ivo carried Olivia back to the house because she didn’t seem to want to let him go, and he certainly didn’t want to let her go. Charles followed carefully behind, not as sure as Ivo at making his way through the marsh that had been his childhood playground. The water had risen as high as it would go, and Ivo knew Olivia would have drowned if they had not found her when they did. But he had found her, and she was safe in his arms.
Back at the house, everyone was waiting, relieved, tearful, asking questions none of them felt able to answer. Ivo carried her through the front door and into the warmth of his house. He sat down close to the fire, still holding his love, and she pressed her face into the curve of his neck and clung.
“I’ll see a bath prepared,” Adelina said. “She must be chilled to the bone.”
