Page 74 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
“There was a figure in the room standing over my bed, peering down at me. I jumped, scared witless. It was the figure of a woman; an old crone, with grey, spindly hair and a face so wrinkled I could barely discern the features. She was almost bent double, hovering over me, her eyes gleaming.
“‘What do you want with me?’ I cried.
“She smiled. ‘Do not be afraid,’ she said. ‘I have come to help you. I have come to show you, what you must do, to live again.’
“I gaped at her, incredulously. And then, in a calm voice, she instructed me to find you.”
He stared hard at Susannah, his face so intense that for a moment she reeled back.
“She told me that I must fight for you; that I must seek you out and make a plan to get you back. She told me that it was the only way, and that I had always known it, in my heart.”
He paused again, his eyes almost misty, as he spoke.
“I must have drifted back to sleep. In the morning, when I awoke, she was gone. But her mission had been accomplished. I was beset with a strange energy and vigour that I had all but forgotten. I knew that the crone had spoken the truth, and that my life was nothing without you. That I must fight for you, once again.
That very day, I started to put the wheels in motion. I visited your parents and found out the exact location of your home. Then I packed up my life in Lincolnshire. I travelled across the country, seeking lodgings in the village closest to The Willows.
And then, I watched … and I waited.”
Susannah stared at him, her heart thumping wildly. With difficulty she fought the urge to turn away from him. She didn’t want to hear this, almost as much as shedidwant to hear it. The story of his twisted obsession with her … and his madness.
“I staked out The Willows,” he went on, calmly. “Every day, I came here, watching the house. I saw you and your husband going about your business. But I noticed that he was often away, for days at a time, and that when he was here, you appeared deeply unhappy. I also witnessed many of your arguments; saw how cruelly he treated you. It broke my heart to see you so debased and degraded.”
His face was tight with emotion.
“I knew then that the crone had been a guardian angel, of sorts,” he continued. “Not only for me but for you as well. She had known how unhappy your life was with your husband and knew that I was the only one that could save you from it. Our love was going to save you, as much as it was saving me …”
He smiled, then, a little wistfully.
“Anyway,” he went on. “Months went by where I witnessed the disintegration of your marriage and your unhappiness. I thought about approaching you privately and asking you to run away with me. But by then, a deep and furious anger had grown within me. Your brute of a husband did not deserve to live, for what he was doing to you …”
Susannah shuddered in horror, listening to his words.
“And so, I made new plans,” he said slowly. “I knew that he liked to go out riding on his favourite horse, and that he would often do so after he had fought with you. It was a well-established pattern.
That night, I saw him arrive back at The Willows, after being absent for days. At that moment, I had no real plan to do anything that night. I was almost about to head back to Whitmere to my lodgings. But some instinct made me creep closer to the window, where you were dining with him.
I saw you arguing with him. I heard him shouting at you, his face red with anger, and then you started to cry. I saw him storm out of the room …
I was shaking with anger, absolutely livid, watching your sorrow, and my heart bled that I could not come forward to comfort you. With deep regret, I turned away, intending to head to Whitmere.
But as I left, creeping away from the house, I saw him striding to the stables. I followed him. Within minutes, he had saddled his horse and was heading out into the night.
I knew then that fate had intervened, once more. That the time had finally come to end this madness, once and for all.
I did not think. I merely jumped on my own horse, hiding in the woods, and pursued him. I knew what path he would take, and I took a shortcut, so that I could cut him off on the track.
I lay in wait for him to pass by. The time seemed to warp and stretch in the strangest of ways. I had already chosen the rock, and it lay heavy in my palm, almost pulsing with a curious energy.
When he came thundering down the track, I seized the moment, hurtling the stone at him.
It worked as I intended it to. His horse reared up in panic as the rock whizzed past, throwing him off its back. He hit the ground, hard. But to my dismay, he was not injured by the fall. Within minutes, he was staggering to his feet, calling out to the beast …”
His voice tapered off for a moment as he stared into the fire.
“I could not let the chance go by,” he continued slowly. “I had hoped that by startling his horse, he would fall, and die. But that was not to be. I knew then that I had to do something that would ensure that he never, ever returned to The Willows again.
I left my hiding place, walking to him, where he was still on the ground. The rock that I had thrown was lying only a short distance away. Before he had even seen me approach, I had picked it up, ready to strike.
