Author's Note: If you are looking for quick story to tickle your happy parts, this likely is not the one.
Dear Readers,
I thank you for your continued support and encouragement for more of the story. If you hadn't kept commenting and emailing me, I probably would have given up.
A few things:
1) There is a reason that this story is in the noncon section. If this is not your thing, maybe a different story would better suit your taste.
2) There's a lot more "story" in these two chapters. Some of the stuff with the supporting characters should be edited out no doubt, but it's free, it's mine, so... :)
3) I will eventually get it all written to the end. I estimate there are about 4 chapters after this to finish the story. So no, don't look for an easy resolution just yet.
Once again, thank you for reading, voting, and commenting!
Much love,
Emmeline
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Chapter 15
Rockdale rode hard for Verity Hall, his mind a jumble of chaotic thoughts. Reason told him to stop for the night and set out again at dawn, for there was no way to make the trip before nightfall.
Worry for his son lodged in his throat like a clump of bitter-tasting thorns. Could Miles Barlow, now Lord Atherton by some twist of fate, somehow be responsible for Nicholas being gone?
"It cannot be," he muttered.
Young Ned, the messenger from Verity Hall, had said Nicholas had been missing since the morning. He and Atherton had not had their confrontation until the afternoon. And even a miscreant like Miles wouldn't dare to bother one of Rockdale's children.
Would he?
You should have been there. If you had been at home, then this would not have happened.
The words of self-reproach circled like vultures in his head. But even as he flayed himself for leaving his children once more, a part of him grieved for the loss of his sweet Eliza.
She was gone from his life forever. He growled and ruthlessly tried to shove the unwelcome feelings down, but emotion bubbled up from somewhere in his chest. It felt as though part of his heart had been brutally ripped away, leaving a bruised and bloody remnant.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" The words burst from his mouth into the evening air. His horse flicked its ears.
So much loss in his life, so much pain. The clouds opened up above his head and rain began to fall, slow at first, then harder.
William grimly took little notice. Of course, it would be raining. He expected nothing less from fate. Perhaps it was exactly what he deserved to atone for his many sins.
A ragged sob tried to force its way out of his mouth. "Please, Lord, I know that I am not a righteous man, but please, I beg of you, let my son be safe from harm."
***
Eliza stood before the window in the upstairs bedroom of Rockdale's townhouse. The shadows lengthened as twilight began to settle over the landscape.
"Sweet Nicholas," she whispered. "What has happened to you?"
Though she had only been with the earl's children for a matter of months, the thought of harm coming to either one of them filled her with anxious worry. Though mischievous at times, Nicholas was at heart a sweet child, intelligent and loving. She couldn't imagine that he would run away. A lump settled hard in her chest as she pictured him out somewhere lost on the estate, afraid and alone.
I should be there.
The thought kept repeating in her head like a litany.
No, she told herself firmly. You do not belong there.
Blast it! She had fought so mightily to be free of Rockdale and his control, but at this moment she would have given almost anything to have his large comforting presence by her side. Eliza could not forget the stricken look on his face when they had been told Nicholas could not be found at Verity Hall.
Releasing her hold on the curtain, she began to pace about fretfully. Of course, she must return home to her family in Lancashire. Any other option was madness.
But how would news of Nicholas reach her? She wouldn't know what had happened. It could be something as simple as the young boy had only fallen asleep somewhere on the grounds, or perhaps he had hidden away with his wooden soldiers under a bed.
You could write a letter, she reasoned.
A bloody letter!
She threw up her hands in disgust and paced faster. A letter would take an age to be delivered, and then another must be written and returned to her. For all she knew, no one at Verity Hall would even take the time to pen a note to one such as her.
A tap at the door caused her to whirl so abruptly, Eliza almost lost her footing.
Mrs. Crawley's head popped through the cracked doorway.
"I've got some nice stew for your supper, dearie. Will you come downstairs to dine?"
Eliza attempted a wan smile. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Crawley. My appetite seems to have deserted me."
"Nonsense," Mrs. Crawley pronounced, pushing the door open further. "I had a feeling you were going to spout such nonsense, so I went ahead and made you a tray."
Seeing Eliza wavering, she frowned and pointed at the small table and chair in the corner. "Sit."
Eliza hesitated, but not wishing to be difficult, she finally nodded and sat.