Page 29 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
“But …” He looked bewildered. “We are meant to be together, Susannah …”
A short bark of laughter left her lips. It wasn’t a funny situation at all, but she could still appreciate the absurdity of it.
“No, Leonard,” she said crisply. “You asked me to elope with you, all those years ago, and I told you quite plainly then that I do not love you like that, and never will.” She took a deep breath. “There is no fate, or destiny, or anything, in the matter. It is simply you imagining things when it is not true!”
His face darkened. “You are rejecting me again, after I have travelled all this way to be with you, when we can finally be together, after all this time?”
Susannah stared at him. How on earth could she get it through his head that she had no interest in marrying him?
She took another deep breath. “I do not want to marry you. In fact, I must tell you that my heart belongs to another.”
He stood up, towering over her, gazing down at her with vicious eyes. He looked like an angry cat that was just about to start hissing and clawing. Despite her resolve, she shrank back a little, alarmed.
“You have teased me for years,” he spat. “Years! You married Gilbert Drake to make me jealous – do not think I do not know why you did it!”
She watched, appalled, as he started to pace the floor, almost muttering to himself.
“I have stood by patiently,” he said, glaring at her. “All these years, I have been faithful to you. I have waited for you …”
Susannah’s head started to spin. This was even worse than she had thought. This was worse than what she had ever imagined.
She knew that he had been delusional in his love for her when they had been teenagers, all those years ago. But never, in her wildest dreams, had she thought he would nurse that rejected love, turning it into this … beastly thing. Claiming that he still loved her, after all this time, and not accepting anything that she said. That he had waited for her, spinning this dark web year in and year out, until he could strike.
For the first time, she felt true fear as she gazed at him. He was utterly mad, deluded in his thinking, to the point that he could not be rational anymore.
Suddenly, he whipped around, his face so full of thunder she reeled back, in shock.
“The things I have done for you!” he cried, his eyes wild and wide. “You have forced my hand … you have made me do terrible things that I would never dream of doing, to finally be with you …”
She gazed at him, a fresh wave of horror shuddering through her. What on earth was he talking about? What terrible things had he done to be with her?
“What do you mean?” she asked in a strangled voice. “What terrible things are you referring to?”
He stopped pacing, glaring at her, almost as if he hated her.
“I have doneeverythingfor you,” he muttered. “I have damned my immortal soul for you. If it weren’t for me, your husband would still be around, terrorising you!” He loomed towards her menacingly. “You owe me. You owe me your life, and you owe me your love!”
Susannah took a step back, stumbling over an armchair. Her heart was racing with fear. She had to get away from this crazed man. He looked like a lunatic, with his wild eyes and pasty skin, ranting at her about damning his soul.
She rushed to the parlour door, swinging it open.
“Amy!” she cried as loudly as she could. “Mrs Lambert! I need you!”
But before there was any response from the housekeeper or any of the other staff, he pushed past her, through the door. She held her breath, watching him, ready to run in the other direction if she needed to. He stopped for a moment, glaring back at her, his eyes still wild.
“I will make you change your mind,” he hissed. “You will be mine. I vow it.”
Before she could reply, to contradict him again, he stormed off, striding down the hallway towards the front door. The next minute, she heard a loud bang as he slammed the door shut behind him.
That was when the trembling started. It seemed to overtake her completely, starting at her legs, then consuming her entire body. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she sank to the floor, falling into a slump.
She was only vaguely aware that someone was standing over her, calling her name, over and over.
She glanced up. It was Amy. Her face was frozen in appalled horror.
“What is it?” the housekeeper cried, reaching down, trying to pull her to her feet. “What has happened?”
She could not answer; her throat was so dry, she didn’t think that she could utter a word. The next moment, someone was picking her up, carrying her to her room. A man’s strong arms were around her. She glanced at him. It was Benjamin, the young footman. Amy was by his side the whole way, stroking her arm gently, telling her that everything was going to be well.
