Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(99)

Lady Ashby had taken Sara to the underground wine cellar at gunpoint. They left the club through one of the hidden doorways. It had been designed to allow patrons an easy escape route to avoid the embarrassment of being caught in the club during a police raid. As she emerged from the cellar to the fresh outside air, Sara was surprised to see a hired carriage waiting for them. “Get in,” Joyce muttered, jabbing her in the back with the muzzle of the pistol. “And don’t try to appeal to the driver. He’s being paid well to keep his mouth shut and do as I bid him.”

Once inside, they sat on opposite seats. Joyce kept the pistol pointed at Sara, relishing the power of life and death over her prisoner. The carriage began to move.

Sara clasped her trembling hands in her lap. “Where are we going?”

“To an Ashby holding in the country. An old medieval house.” Now that her plan was progressing exactly as she’d intended, Joyce was casual, even conversational. “Most of it has crumbled over the centuries, except for the central core and the tower. No one ever goes there.”

“How far is it?”

“We’ll travel a good hour and a half. Perhaps two.” She smiled mockingly. “Would you like to know why I’m taking you there? I’m not going to tell you. I’m saving it as a surprise.”

Sara wondered if the fire had spread throughout the club, or if by some miracle the employees had been able to contain it. Soon Derek would return from his errand with Alex. She felt ill at the thought of what he might face. He would discover that she was missing…He might be injured in the attempt to find her. Suddenly she was terrified for his sake, wondering if he would be in danger, if he would think she was dead…Agitatedly she touched the heavy necklace at her throat, worrying the smooth emeralds between her fingers.

“Give that to me,” Joyce said sharply, watching her.

“The necklace?”

“Yes, take it off.” Joyce watched as Sara unhooked the glittering treasure from her neck. “A peasant woman with a necklace fit for a queen,” she sneered. “You don’t have the grace or bearing to wear it properly. Give it to me.” Her eager fingers wrapped around the necklace, and she snatched it away. Setting it on the seat beside her, she toyed lovingly with the web of emeralds and diamonds. “He gave me presents…a bracelet, a necklace, jeweled combs for my hair…but nothing as fine as this.” She smiled at Sara tauntingly. “The day he gave me the combs, he said that he’d imagined making love to me wearing jewels in my golden hair and nothing else. He much prefers blond hair to dark, did you know that?”

Sara kept her face blank, refusing to let the other woman see that her remark stung. Joyce began another sneering litany of insults and boasted about Derek’s sexual prowess until anger and jealousy roiled unpleasantly in Sara’s stomach.

* * *

A woman’s voice touched Derek gently, luring him from the welter of darkness. Something was wrong…Some strange coldness was all around him, inside him, a sinister shadow that had soaked through every inch of his body. He stirred groggily, wanting comfort. “Sara…”

“I’m here, darling.” It was Lily’s voice, sounding thick and odd.

Derek shook himself awake and groaned at the throbbing pain in his head. “Jesus.” He blinked and sat up clumsily, squinting at his surroundings. He was in the Raifords’ carriage, pulled to a halt in front of Swans’ Court. Alex was next to him, resting a steadying hand on his shoulder. Derek’s chest hurt. He felt as if he’d been beaten. “What happened?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Lily stood at the door of the carriage, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the side lamps. Her eyes were swollen. “Come into the house with us, Derek. Careful—let Alex help you.”

Derek obeyed without thinking, discovering as he stumbled out of the carriage that he wasn’t steady on his feet. Standing next to the vehicle, he braced a hand against the smooth lacquered side and tried to clear his head. Alex and Lily were on either side of him. Both of them looked at him strangely. He began to remember…the fire, the club…Sara.

“Where is she?” he asked. He was infuriated by the glance they gave each other. “Damn the both of you, answer me!”

Alex’s gray eyes were compassionate. He replied in a quiet voice, “She’s nowhere to be found, Derek. She was caught in the fire. She couldn’t have survived.”

Derek made a rough sound, backing away from them. The nightmare was upon him again. He began to tremble.

“Derek,” Lily said softly, her eyes glistening, “you’re not alone. We’ll help each other through this. Come inside. Come, we’ll get a drink.”

He stared at her without expression.

“Derek—” she coaxed, but suddenly he had vanished, moving swiftly into the night until it swallowed him whole.

Startled, Lily called out after him, and then turned to Alex. “You must follow him,” she said urgently. “Alex, bring him back!”

He slid his arms around her. “And then what? Short of knocking him unconscious, I can’t make him stay.” Lifting her chin, he stared into her eyes. “He’ll come back,” he reassured her gently. “He has nowhere else to go.”

Exhausted by her own frantic thoughts, Sara was wearily surprised when the pace of the carriage eased and then stopped. It had seemed as if the wheels would never cease turning, taking her farther away from London with every torturous minute that passed. Midway through the journey Joyce had lapsed into silence, fumbling awkwardly to clasp the emerald necklace around her throat while retaining possession of the gun.