Fire On The Water

**Start at Chapter One - "Fire On The Water" 

                                                Chapter Six

    The Duke of North Yorkshire stepped into Vanessa’s group and made a slight bow. "Jonathan, may I have the opportunity to dance with your beautiful new bride?"

    Still angry toward Langley for nearly disrobing her with his eyes, Vanessa pulled her gaze from Langley to look at Michael Clairmont, thankful for the distraction. She needed to dance and get her mind back to her guests and happier thoughts. With a smile, she set down her glass of champagne on a passing tray.

    "Only if I may ask the same favor, Your Grace." Jonathan held out his arm for Lord Clairmont’s guest of the evening to take his arm and escorted her to the center of the crowded floor also.

    Vanessa couldn’t help but feel the warm blush creep up her neck to her cheeks as she placed her hand atop the Duke’s arm, and followed Jonathan to the center of the floor.

    Vanessa nodded to those she passed, smiling at Lord North with his wife, he was the king’s chief confidential minister; and Charles James Fox chatted with Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire. Her parent’s friends seemed to be having a wonderful time with each other and this satisfied her.

    After a few minutes of dancing with the duke, Vanessa asked how his travels were going. She wondered if his interests were very different from his brother Nathan.

    "I’ve been at sea often, making purchases for the queen at some of our stops in the East Indies and China. She loves her spices from those parts of the world. But a man gets lonely at sea - I’m glad to be back.” He met her gaze. “How’s Athena’s training going?"

    Looking into his blue eyes made it difficult for her to concentrate on the conversation. Though she was now married, she still found him attractive and so much like Nathan. "She’s doing very well. I must thank you again for your suggestions to Jonathan regarding her purchase. And she’s such a joy to ride."

    Michael smiled, but she read concern in his eyes. "Nathan and Philip have told me of the attacks and of the men stalking you. I know Jonathan is worried, especially because he travels so often. Please be careful when you go out and don’t go alone. I’m at your service should you ever need anything or a chaperone."

    Nervousness replaced the attraction when Vanessa looked at the duke. She didn’t like that so many knew of her mishaps, but understood their concern. "They all make sure someone is with me at all times when I go riding, especially since the attack in Hyde Park."

    "Jonathan still feels bad because he wasn’t in London to protect you, and he wants to keep you safe. He’s a good man. I’m only sorry he married you before I had the opportunity."

    His comment made her laugh. "Your Grace, you’re too kind.” Vanessa shook her head; the resemblance to his brother still amazed her. "I just can’t get over how much you and your brother, Nathan, look alike."

    Beneath her hand, the muscles of Michael’s arm seemed to tense. Had she said something wrong? She continued talking, hoping to relax him again. Perhaps he didn't like being reminded of how much alike they were. "He’s worked for my father for over a year now, and he’s become like a member of our family. Nathan thinks of me as his little sister; it’s like having two brothers, both overprotective." Vanessa wrinkled her nose to lighten the mood. "He and Philip are always looking out for me." Embarrassed at how she rambled on, she tipped her head down a bit and hoped Michael wouldn’t see her blush.

    "Nathan speaks of your family often. He’s glad, as we all are, that you have a good husband to stay by your side."

    She glanced up. "Jonathan will be a good husband. He doesn’t travel as often as he used to, and he says I can go with him in the future when he travels to the colonies. I can’t wait to be at sea, under the clear sky at night, the stars overhead, feeling the swell of the waves under the ship. I do love it."

                                                    * * * *

    Later, as Michael casually talked with Philip, he noted Rebecca once again danced with Jonathan. She had occupied much of Jonathan’s time the past half-hour and that made him feel uneasy. Michael searched for Vanessa, only to find she danced with Langley, at the edge of the crowd, near the doors to the verandah. Though Langley danced with a slight limp, he didn’t appear to be hindered in any way.

    The tense expression on Vanessa’s face told Michael that her anger had began to boil within her. He tightened his grip on the glass in his hand. How the hell did she end up with Langley in the first place? She should have refused to dance with him. Michael glanced at Jonathan again to see Rebecca had coerced him to the opposite side of the ballroom with his back to the dancers. Was she trying to get back at Langley since he danced with Vanessa? Or was she his partner is yet another bizarre plan?

    Michael looked back to Vanessa in time to see Langley move her out the doors onto the verandah. He must have known Rebecca kept Jonathan occupied. <italics>Damn those two.</italics> He looked around for Philip, but didn't see him either. No one else seemed to notice Langley’s disappearance - except himself - and he headed toward them to thwart any plans Langley might have. This was a wedding celebration. Was he insane?

                                                        * * * *

    Vanessa tried to resist Langley’s maneuvering and wondered what he was doing. They danced too close to the verandah doors. She’d agreed to a dance with him because he had asked while she was talking with the king and she didn’t want to appear rude in front of the king. Would she never learn? Langley caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His touch repulsed her and she leaned away from him. She looked into his eyes, and what she saw frightened her.

    "You are a very beautiful woman, Vanessa," Langley said as his fingers pressed firmer against her back, pulling her closer while he continued to touch her cheek. "Your ivory skin is so soft to a man’s touch."

    "You disgust me!" she snapped, spitting the words at him. “Let me go.”

    He smiled and the smell of whiskey on his breath sickened her.

    "You’re a little spitfire! Jonathan’s a lucky man.”

    She kicked his shin.

    "You little bitch!" His eyes were those of the devil himself. He pulled her tight into his arm and closed in nose to nose with her. "You won’t always have so much fight in you. I’ll release you this time, but never fear . . . we will cross paths again.” Langley stared deep into her eyes as she tried to push away from him. “Your mother may have escaped from my father, but you won’t escape from me! I will have you one day!"

    Vanessa stepped out of his encircling arm and caught him with the palm of her hand against the side of his face. Shocked, he held his cheek and stared at her.

    Every muscle in her body tensed with anger and her heart raced though she rejoiced with gratification. Only an animal would be so bold to treat her as he had, and on her wedding day no less. "Mark my words, Langley - touch me again and I will personally see to it that you die!"

    He actually had the gall to curl his lips into a lopsided smile. “I look forward to it, my lady.”

    Picking up her skirts, Vanessa turned away nearly running into the duke. She hoped he hadn’t heard Langley’s comments; she wasn’t about to let anyone think that she couldn’t handle that situation herself. She had to get away from everyone for a bit. Before she stormed off, the Duke of North Yorkshire had grabbed Langley by the arm and pulled him out onto the verandah and she was concerned for the Duke.

    Seething with rage, her heart refusing to slow down, her satin slippers swiftly carried her along. The gall of that bastard! For him to think there would even be a next time. She laughed to herself at the absurdity of it. Vanessa made her way through her crowd of guests, smiling, and headed toward the ladies chamber for a few minutes alone. This was her wedding day and she refused to let Langley ruin it for her yet he had.

    In the room set aside for female guests, she checked her appearance in the mirror. She wet a cloth with cool water from the pitcher and pressed it to her face.

    The gall of that man!

    How dare he!

    Vanessa knew she must calm herself before going back out to Jonathan. He and Philip would instantly know something had happened. Maybe she should tell them. Taking slow, deep breaths helped. She couldn’t let them see her like this. She adjusted a few strands of hair.

    Satisfied that she looked presentable, Vanessa turned to leave and came face to face with the tall, slender Rebecca who had just walked in. A sly look and a sneering grin played on her smug ivory face. She must have witnessed what happened between her and Langley and came to gloat that he’d succeed in getting her so upset.

    "My dear, you don’t look well. Are you feeling all right? Your dance partner upset you?" Lady Monteith asked, snickering as she checked her honey-blonde appearance, dabbing at her coal-traced blue eyes.

    Vanessa curled one side of her upper lip in disgust as she gripped the doorknob. "I’m fine, but how can you associate with that animal?  He has no repect for women at all!" Without waiting for an answer, she left the room, thinking Lady Monteith had always had a strange taste in men.

    Back in the ballroom, Vanessa spotted Langley talking with the duke and it didn’t appear amicable. Furious, she started toward them, only to be waylaid by her brother, Philip, who knew her too well.

    He placed her hand atop his arm, and quickly turned her toward the dance floor. "May I have this dance, my dear," he teased. "I haven’t had the opportunity yet this evening."

    She hesitated, glancing back at the duke, but soon Philip had her on the dance floor. He watched her while they danced until she gave in and glanced up at him.

    Philip smiled at her.  "I've already spoken with Lord Clairmont."

    Nervously she only told him that Langley had been his usually rude self. “He did say something that bothered me. He said our mother got away from his father, but I would never escape from him. I have no idea what he was talking about . . . how does he think he's even going to 'have' me?” Philip’s hand exerted pressure on her back and she knew he was furious.

    "I hate to ruin your evening, but I think it best that Jonathan take you up to your chambers. It’s getting late, so it won’t appear unusual."

    She nodded as they continued to dance. He was right. Why tempt fate when she could leave now.  They'd had the opportunity to speak with all their guests and they all appeared to be having a wonderful time yet.

    The music ended, and Philip walked her back to Jonathan, who excused himself from his friends. Vanessa glanced around for Langley, but he was nowhere in sight, and neither was Rebecca Monteith. Perhaps they had the good sense to leave. Perhaps that’s what the duke had told him during their conversation when she’d come from the ladies room.

    Philip touched Jonathan’s shoulder. "Vanessa isn't feeling well. You might want to get her upstairs, if you wouldn’t mind."

    Concern for her swept over his features. “We’ll leave immediately. Are you ill, sweetheart? We can go to our rooms and finally be alone to enjoy our evening," he said, then excused them from their guests.

    Vanessa rubbed her temple. "Oh, I’m sure it’s just too much of everything tonight. I hate to ruin your evening, but I would like to retire." She walked with Jonathan over to their hosts, the Bridgewaters, and thanked them before going to their rooms.

                                                      * * * *

    On the verandah, Michael waited for Philip. Looking out over the hedges, he was glad that Philip had been able to get Jonathan to leave with Vanessa. How had she come to be dancing with that bastard tonight? He clenched his hands into fists atop the cement balustrade surrounding the verandah.

    Philip joined him. "Jonathan’s taken her up to their rooms. I’m glad you saw what happened; fortunately she got away from him tonight. Next time she might not be so lucky," Philip said, keeping his voice low, his anger evident in his face. "Knowing Langley as well as I do I’m sure he took other liberties that Vanessa wouldn’t tell me!"

    "Did she appear to be well?"

    "Yes, she was just a bit shaken. She did tell me Langley said something else that didn’t make any sense to her - he said our mother got away from his father, but Vanessa would never escape from him. One day he would have her!"

    Michael stared at Philip, unbelieving. Every muscle in his body knotted. Again he pounded his fist against the balustrade. The thought of Langley’s hands on Vanessa’s body tore at his emotions. In an attempt to calm himself, he adjusted the lace at his cuffs and straightened his jacket. "He thinks he can have what his father couldn’t get? Like some family vendetta? All of his women have been conquests of domination. He’s got to be stopped!  I'll talk with Fielding and his Bow Street Runners.  I'll have him watched." Michael kept his voice low, wishing he could do the same with his anger. First Clarissa, though he still had no proof, and now Vanessa. He’d find a way to stop that madman.

    "Do you think he has anything to do with the men stalking Vanessa?"

    "Yes I do. With Langley’s background, anything’s possible. We need to watch everything he does and where he goes. I need to get back to my guest. I’ll be in touch with you later, Philip." Michael shook his hand and left.

                                                        * * * *

      Weeks later, at their sprawling country estate, Vanessa hummed as Avie prepared her for the day. Jonathan had business at his office in town, and Athena needed exercise. Dressed in her black riding breeches, knee-high boots, and a flowing white lawn shirt, Vanessa headed for the stables. Spring was in the air and she wanted to be part of it.

    Once mounted, she pulled the reins to the left, leaned forward and touched her heels to the mare’s ribs. Athena lunged forward and followed the path toward the meadows, knowing two groomsmen followed as ordered. She knew it was necessary but she didn’t have to like it, she thought, enjoying the warmth of the sun, paying little attention to the distance she’d ridden. She didn’t care; she only knew she wanted to ride and forget the strangers who stalked her and what safer place then their own property. The wind in her hair freed Vanessa’s mind as she glided along with Athena’s smooth paces. She loved her new mare; they’d gotten to be good friends. Jonathan was so thoughtful in his gifts to her and she smiled into the sun.

    Vanessa viewed the green rolling hillsides dotted with patches of yellow daisies littered with lavender on their property. Thoughts of the attackers insisted on invading her mind. She’d wanted a peaceful ride, but the nagging incidents kept at her. It did concern her that no one could supply her with additional information as to the identities of the men who stalked her; it had to be Langley. The Chief Magistrate had not gotten back to Philip yet; he’d mentioned that much to her. She just wanted an end to the harassment.

    An unusual formation of rocks at the back pasture caught her attention near the moors. She slapped the reins against Athena’s back, urging her toward the formation. Athena followed Vanessa’s commands as she gently applied pressure in the direction she wished to go. Glancing behind her, Vanessa could still see her groomsmen and the manor in the distance, so she continued on along the moor’s edge, and then slowed to enjoy the ride. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the refreshing scent of moist earth and pines.

    The sound of breaking twigs to her right, deep within the cover of trees, drew her attention. Athena started sidestepping nervously, moving around in circles, and sensing imminent danger. Vanessa tried to control the mare by pulling up the reins as she looked for an animal in the area, but none were visible.

    The hairs on her nape seemed to stand up and her spine stiffened.

    Surveying the darkness beyond the trees, she shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to shake off the feeling of foreboding. But the sensation didn’t leave.
Something, or someone, watched her. She could feel it on the back of her neck like a cold winter wind.

    No birds cawed in the area. It was too quiet.

    She peered along the edge of the woods, squinting to see into the darker areas of the dense trees. Her groomsmen still followed.

    Again, the snapping of a twig caught her attention. Frightened birds flew into the meadow; then there was dead silence. Athena snorted.

    She watched and listened keenly for a clue to the identity of what, or who, made the noise as she checked on her groomsmen, now riding toward her.

    She should turn Athena and ride back to the stables. Suddenly, behind her, a rush of breaking branches rose from the trees and she turned Athena.

    A gasp wrenched from her throat at the sight before her - four shabbily dressed men on horseback. Athena tried to step sideways and she may have lost her only opportunity for escape.

    Taking a chance, Vanessa yanked the reins to the left, kicked Athena, and as the mare lunged forward, Vanessa glanced back at the men. They followed closer than she’d anticipated and slapped the reins on Athena’s flanks. More men had ambushed her groomsmen and she’d witnessed them both being clubbed in the head.

      Four men surrounded Vanessa and their laughter echoed through the valley. Evil, threatening eyes squinted at her. A sneer curled each mouth. They all wore the same grubby attire as those that had attacked her in the park.

    "Ye shore be a foin’ lookin’ wench. Cap’n has obvious reasons for wantin’ you."

    "Why don’t you take that dirk outta yer boot, milady. I don’t take too kindly to bein’ stuck a second time, thank ye."

    Speculating, Vanessa met their gazes. Their horses were too close for her to attempt another escape. She knew better. Her whip hung from a leather saddle string below the pommel, but Vanessa couldn’t use it with them in such close proximity.

    She refused to be frightened. Sitting high in her saddle as Athena moved about, she cast them all a defiant gaze.

    "The dirk in yer boot, madam? Toss it away from ye . . . now!"

    "Maybe she needs a little help," a gap-toothed man sneered as he urged his horse closer.

    Quickly, she spurred her mare away from him, but with the same move, Athena stepped too close to the man in charge. He caught Vanessa off guard, grabbing her around the waist, and yanking Vanessa from her horse. She kicked and screamed, refusing to make it easy for them.

      While he held her tight about the waist, two of the other men dismounted, and with their ropes in hand, ran toward her. One tied her feet together while the other tied her hands, and then placed a gag in her mouth. It tasted of musty wood. A hand stroked down her thigh, moving down toward her boot. They sought the dirk that she’d hoped they’d forgotten about. Finding it, the man met her gaze and smiled, putting the dirk inside his own boot.

    Her captor leaned close to her ear. "Sorry, madam, I wasn’t ‘bout to take a chance on gettin’ stuck again by the likes o’ you."

    He turned to the others. "Let’s get outta here!"

    Pulling her up higher against his thighs, he spurred his horse and charged off. Vanessa was thrown into her captor’s chest, and she began to slip from his lap. He reacted, gripping her tighter around the waist, crushing her ribs. With an upward jerk, he lifted her back into place. Vanessa bounced around until she allowed her movements to coordinate with those of the horse. She glanced back at Athena, now grazing in the meadow; farther away lay her groomsmen.

    She couldn’t think straight. She’d allowed herself to be taken. How could she have been so naive? How long before anyone knew she was missing? It could be hours and be dark by then.

    For a few hours of freedom, she had risked her own life.

    Vanessa bounced on her captor’s lap, fearing at times, when the animal stumbled or sidestepped a hole in his path, that she would slip to the ground. As the noxious stench of several days’ perspiration and sweat found its way to Vanessa’s nose, she realized the odor rose from the man who held her. He looked even worse than he smelled. His bushy red beard was as unruly as his hair that protruded out from under a worn stocking hat. She hoped no vermin would infest her own hair from being so close to him. Vanessa could also have done without his conversation and his pawing hands. Too often, his hand found its way higher than her waist and roughly cupped her breast.

    At one point, his nose nuzzled near her ear, and then his teeth nuzzled her neck. She jerked away.

    "You are a mighty soft one, milady. Cap’n shor’ has his fun cut out for him. Just the smell o’ ye will likely spill his seed. Maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll share ye with us, too."

    This statement almost caused Vanessa to retch as his garlic-ridden breath wafted her way. She turned her head as far away as possible, her stomach roiling, ready to erupt.

    The thought of spending any length of time with these men horrified her. She had to do something, but what . . . and how? The rope about her wrists continued to burn where it worked itself into her flesh, already causing several raw spots. Hopefully, the right time to attempt an escape would present itself.

    Vanessa noted the route they took. They hadn’t ventured onto any main roads, mostly using bare animal trails. Where were they taking her? Frustration made it hard for her to memorize land markings for a return this way, along with not recognizing her surroundings as she bounced along with the ride.

    She couldn’t help but notice the stares these filthy men gave her as they rode. They kept leering at her, licking their lips, and grabbing at the front of their pants. Vanessa swallowed hard. The hungry looks in their glazed eyes revolted her.  She'd be lucky not to be raped by the whole lot of them!

    What about this captain they kept referring to . . . who was he? Probably someone just as filthy as they were! Dreading the thought of being placed in his hands, Vanessa knew she had to escape!

The smell of the sea hung in the air. Hope rose in her heart. They must be close to a harbor, though this location didn’t look familiar. Ahead, at the edge of the woods, appeared a small cottage with a stable.

    When the men stopped before the cottage, a tall, brawny man came around to help Vanessa down. She was glad for the respite, but doubted they would be stupid enough to untie her feet. With the tall man’s hands around her waist, he pulled Vanessa into him, letting one hand grip her bottom as he lowered her down the length of his hard body. She squirmed, hoping to escape from him, then fell to the ground as he let go. But it was better than being mauled by this stranger.

    Now he stared over the length of her body. She berated herself for wearing pants since he took advantage of the fact. Panic seized her heart as he lifted her and his hands groped down her body. He placed his face in her hair, and inhaled deeply.

    "I ain’t smelled nothing so good in years, lassie."

    He pressed his hips against hers, while his other hand moved up her back to hold her tight to his chest. Vanessa twisted and struggled, but her tied hands were squeezed between their stomachs.



**Go to Chapter Seven