Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(36)

Samuel braced his hands on the floor until he had steadied enough to get his feet under him. Silence in the room had replaced the bawdy laughter of but a few moments ago. Of course, that would be the case. The patrons loved nothing better than to bet on a fight.

The sound of coins being exchanged all about him couldn't peel his eyes from the man standing in front of him. It was now or never. Any show of fear on his part might diminish future chances with other women if word got out that he'd acted the coward. A quick glance to his right showed the woman smiling, eyes gleaming, excited to be the object of such a feud.

Bone smashed bone as a fist knocked his head back, once again setting the room to a twirl. Samuel shook his head, blood now pouring from his nose. More blood ran down his throat. He coughed and spat. Red now colored the dirty floor.

Clenching his fists, Samuel attacked the other man, pounding him again and again about the face and chest. Now they'd find who would win the woman. No way he would give up. It was do… or die.

The man cursed, wiping blood from his chin. Enraged, he grabbed Samuel's shirtfront, propelling them both toward a grouping of rickety wooden tables. Samuel broke their fall, his back smacking onto the nearest tabletop. Pain lanced through his spine, jarring every bone and muscle. A firm grip lifted him from the table and threw him on the floor in a dusty, bloody heap.

Samuel turned his head. A black boot pulled away from his head, then propelled forward, smashing into his temple.

His world faded to black.





Chapter One


Outside Hammersmith, 1807

Pain. Pain lanced through her entire body. Her ankle throbbed as if her heart pulsed in that exact spot. And cold, so cold, as if she lay upon damp, raw ground. Sasha Douglas clenched her hands into fists. Her stomach roiled with nausea. Where am I?

Were her eyes open? In the near darkness, it was impossible to say. She squinted against the headache pounding behind her eyes and glanced up. And up. A tiny shaft of sunlight fell across the opening of wherever she was. Dots of fluffy white clouds hung lazily in the blue sky.

She sat up, despite the pain in her head and leg, and tugged her cloak tighter against the chill. Water trickled along from somewhere beside her. A few inches of water splashed around her boot and seeped into her dress. What happened? Think, Sasha!

A sharp cry echoed from way above the opening. Sasha dug her nails into her palms. Was it the red-footed falcon she'd watched earlier? Why did the bird's call cause panic in her heart? It had never bothered her before. She closed her eyes and slumped forward with her head and arms over her knees. Her ankle throbbed again. Perhaps if she rubbed it… no, it didn't help.

Wait. Where was her left boot? She checked her other foot. Leather and lacings, just as it should be. Her left foot was cold. And wet. The pain throbbed again, from her knee to her ankle and toes. Her stomach knotted in response and she shivered.

Her fingers caught on a large tear in her old walking dress. When she pulled back her hand, something sticky seeped through her gloves. Blood? She must have scraped her leg when she fell into this cold, black hole.

Her teeth chattered in the chilly dampness. Breathe, Sasha, just breathe.

Memories of earlier in the day flashed across her mind. She'd been walking along a valley as the green expanse of grass swayed in the breeze. Crickets had hummed their peculiar tune. The air was crisp and cool even though the sun shone. The red-footed falcon had cried overhead. She'd not been paying attention to where she was going as she watched the falcon dip and sway in the wind, its feathers gleaming in the sun's reflected rays. Then she'd stepped forward into empty air, and she gasped again as her stomach lurched from the memory.

Fear had flashed through her like icy water. She'd grabbed for support… at nothing. She'd screamed, and it had echoed as she'd hurtled down the shaft. Had she bounced from the stone surface before she'd crashed against the cold, wet ground? Sasha remembered nothing else. Nothing at all until the first, pain-wracked moment when she'd woken. What have I fallen in to? The hole hadn't been visible from a distance in the tall grass. She hadn't noticed what must have been a fairly large opening for her to go through, as she'd watched the hawk. How would she get out? What if she couldn't get out? Will I die down here in this dark, damp place? Please, no. No!

Surely someone would be along to find her, wouldn't they? Please let someone find me. "Help! Someone! Please help me!"

Silence answered.

Sasha glanced up again at the small patch of sky. I need to get out of here! But the distance was too great, and there wouldn't be anything to grasp onto, since the cobblestones along the wall were slick. Unless someone found her, she would die here, hurt and alone. Thoughts of starving or freezing to death caused new chills to wrack her body.

Someone someday might find her bones. A shepherd seeking a lost sheep? A mason sent to fill in the old well? Would they bury her? She shuddered again.

Circumstances as they were now could not be any worse. Her life would be forever changed. Sorrow gripped her heart at the thought of Samuel. Why? Why did he have to die? Since their parents' deaths, it had been just her and her brother.

Now it was just her.

Since she no longer had a family, there would be no one to even remember who she'd been. Or that she'd even crossed the earth. She had no one, absolutely alone in the world. Samuel. The physical hurt collided with the anguish and anger of her loss.