She felt her heart stop as she recognized him. The outlaw from the woods! It was him.
“Who are you?” she whispered. Her eyes darted to the trees behind her, to her right. Perhaps if she ducked, she could run to them before he had a chance to hit her with the bullet?
He made an amused sound, drawing her attention back. “If I told you that, I’d have to be stupider than anybody may credit me for.”
Hestony nodded. What could she say? She couldn’t disagree with anything he said, or the bullet in that pistol might take her life. She had no doubt he would do so: there was something about his posture and that cold, flat voice that suggested a lack of any compassion whatsoever.
“Yes,” she agreed.
He laughed. “Well, then. Unless you think me remarkably stupid, you wouldn’t ask such a thing. Now. Step closer.”
Hestony swallowed hard. “Sir, I have no money. If you are in need of something, wait here and I will go to the kitchens to fetch it. Supplies, clothes, food. We are not ungenerous at Amhurst. My family would give much to keep me safe…”
He laughed. “I need no alms from you. And methinks no family can stay that generous for long without courting penury?”
Hestony felt her guts twist. The words cut right into her heart, pressing on the edges of the wound from London. If he had known her, he could not have barbed his comments more carefully. But he could not have known about the difficulties they faced.
“Sir? What do you want?” She swallowed hard. It had gone dark outside, and she was alone here, out of sight of the main house, and she was terrified. If something happened to her, no-one would know. Nobody would hear her even if she were to scream.
“I have one demand to make of you.” His voice was cool.
“What?” Hestony heard herself beg. “Whatever it is, tell me! Just leave me and mine alone.”
“A kiss.”
“What?” Hestony went cold. She looked to her right again, and then back at the pistol. If she dropped to her knees, and rolled, the way Lady Invering’s brother had said they did in the army sometimes, then maybe she could make it to the trees.
He laughed, a sound with no pity. “You asked me to tell you. Now, you balk at the price? All you need do is this one thing, and I will cease to visit this place.”
“You will?” Hestony whispered. She wanted to believe him.
“I have said it.” He raised one shoulder.
“Will you go?” Hestony repeated. She knew she was speaking as a child might, but something in her mind had frozen, held by a fear so intense she could not hope to think clearly. Not until she was far away.
He laughed. “You have my word – and that is something you can believe in?”
Hestony nodded slowly. “I can.”
He stepped forward. He shifted the barrel of the pistol, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, drawing down the scarf, so that suddenly, as he drew her against him, his lips pressed to hers.
Hestony held her breath, fighting down indignant anger and a sort of cold disgust. She stiffened, as bile filled her throat. Her guts crawled, and she pulled away instinctively, shoving at his chest, but as she did so, his one arm drew her close, while the other hand pressed the gun to her temple once more. She went stiff.
His lips parted from hers and she felt herself start to cry. She pushed at him, struggling despite her resolve to stay still, but she heard him cock the pistol and went stiff again.
He stepped back from her. She could see the slight gleam of his eyes under the brim of his hat. He was breathing heavily.
“There,” he said. “Go, now. Tell nobody, hear?”
Hestony swallowed hard. She could still taste his lips on hers – a sort of metallic taste. She wanted to spit, but the gun was still in his hand and she wished not to anger him. She nodded.
“I won’t say.”
“Good.”
He took another step back, and she stayed where she was, too afraid to move, lest he do something else. She heard him laugh.
“Go on!” he commanded. But she couldn’t move. Her legs felt as if they were stone. She could no more have taken a step from that place than she could have attacked him.
She stared at him in a sort of mute plea, not knowing what to say or do. Her mind had stopped working – all she wished to do was curl up, draw her knees to her chest and cry.
He shrugged and took another step back. As she watched, he strode to a thicket, and untied a horse from where he’d tethered the reins to a low branch. Hestony watched him mount and ride off.
Only when he had disappeared, when he was no longer even a shadow on the horizon around her, did she move. She covered her face with her hands and stumbled backwards, heading towards the house. The last thirty feet she went at a run, her skirt creased into her hand, blinded by terror and her weeping as she ran.
“Let me in!” she called at the front door.
The butler opened it. “My Lady!” He stared at her in surprise. “What happened? Nobody knew you were out, at this hour.”
Hestony said nothing, just ran up the stairs to her bedroom, trying not to cry.
She slammed the door and sat down on the bed. Her dress was damp from the dew when she’d fallen, running to the house. She ran a hand down the grass-stains. The ruining of her dress made her cry even more, a final hurt in a time of horror.
“Damn him,” she whispered. She had never sworn in her life, and the horror of that was a further shock to her; yet she meant every syllable. She wished that she could damn him – that she could see him suffering for what he had done to her. But even more than that, she wished she could forget.
“My Lady?” somebody called at the door.
“Judy?” Hestony called quickly. “I wish to see nobody.”
“I came to find out if you’d like some tea, My Lady. Or should I bring dinner up to you, if you’re feeling too poorly to come down to the dining-room?”
“No, please,” Hestony said weakly. “I want to see nobody. And no tea, please.”
Judy was silent for so long that Hestony thought she’d left. Then, she called.
“Is there aught I can do, My Lady?”
“No,” Hestony said brokenly. She was too tired – it had been a long day. All she wanted was rest. “You could mayhap draw a bath for me?”
“A bath? Of course, My Lady.”
Hestony rolled onto one side and closed her eyes. She was so tired. She realized she was shaking, though it wasn’t just from the cold. The horror of that man forcing physical contact on her was too much for her mind to comprehend, or for her tired body. She closed her eyes, squeezing back tears.