Dorian traveled the 67 miles north-west of London to Northampton by carriage, along with the company of his Lieutenant. He knew very little of Northampton aside from the great fire that had occurred many ages ago and destroyed many lives. The town eventually rebuilt becoming extensive and very prosperous with the aid of marketing.
As beautiful as the land was, much of the earth was littered with small pebbles and the sloped hills topped with soft stone. The hollow lowlands were heavily wooded, assembled with tall trees and a blanket of snow to coat the softened terrain buried beneath.
Once they reached town, Dorian was surprised to find the noticeably small town teeming with commerce. From what he had gathered, much gossip had been said that the town was allegedly the finest in all of England with its structured buildings and widened streets.
His essential motives drew him immediately into the lively crowds. With Stefan’s help, the two of them began their search for Lord Edric Collins. Most inhabitants knew of the Marquis, claiming the man was a highly admired advocate of the town with an exceptional background and education that proclaimed his aristocracy but most knew very little of the man’s whereabouts at that time.
What information they had gained led them to a grand h-shaped manor with a spacious cobblestone courtyard. As their carriage rolled to a stop before the extravagant house, a servant appeared from within and waited. They announced their names along with their purpose and the hesitant servant led them into the great hall where they remained to be seen.
As the two of them waited, Dorian caught a woman’s voice coming from another room speaking to the servant who had showed them in. He heard someone approaching and he turned as a woman followed by Lord Edric entered the hall and what he saw made his body go still with complete shock.
Ginelle had spent a majority of her day roaming the halls that were now her prison. Despite the circumstances, she was finding it more difficult to be cold to the friendly servants, especially Thora. Her demeanor remained the same with Lord Sterling. She refused to submit to this sudden life thrusted upon her and to the troubling thoughts that Dorian may very well be happy to be rid of her. Doubts were beginning to set heavily in her mind and weigh deeply on her heart.
She was moving quietly through the hall when a hushed voice came from the other side of the door. She paused, suddenly intrigued as the voice carried on, revealing the man to be Lord Sterling.
“You have done what I asked?”
“I have, milord.” Spoke an unfamiliar tone.
“You are certain that the man is dead?” Ginelle felt her heart jump against her chest as she leaned in closer, straining to hear their exchanging words.
“The thief will bother you no longer and I have retrieved all of your money.”
She released a startled gasp as her heart accelerated. Did they speak of Pierino? Had Lord Sterling hired a man to kill him?
“Good, very good.” Sterling said, “As part of our agreement, you may keep half of the money as arranged, so long as the man lies dead as requested.” He paused a moment and than added, “You may have the other half once you have killed Ashford.”
Ginelle blanched as she felt the blood drain rapidly from her face. Surely he did not mean to kill Dorian?
She pressed her ear against the door, her heart throbbing painfully against her ribcage as she strained to catch their conversation.
“She carries his child. I will not have the man suddenly at my door staking claim to his bastard or the woman.”
Ginelle frowned.
He had not said daughter.
“The job will be done.” Spoke the stranger. She heard a sudden shuffle and quickly abandoned the door and hastened around a corner. Her heart pounding, she peeked around the hall to watch a tall man equipped in a black cloak depart the room and disappear down the passage.
A sudden rush of anger drew her towards the door and she pushed it open. Alfred stiffened, a look of surprise crossing his expression as they caught eyes.
“Pierino is dead?”
His face hardened and his shoulders stiffened before he replied. “The man will no longer swindle my money.”
“And Dorian?” she demanded, “You intend to have him killed as well?” He said nothing but remained silent confirming her fears. “You cannot!” she exclaimed, “He has nothing to do with us.”
“But he has everything to do with you.” Sterling said solemnly, “I will simply not abide the man showing up at my door to claim his child.”
“He has that right!”
“Exactly.” Sterling said coldly, slowly coming around the desk to her, his eyes boring angrily down at her, “He has that right, but I will now allow it to happen because I have gone through too much trouble in finding you to have you simply taken away so easily so I intend to avoid that scenario completely.”
Ginelle jerked her chin upward, her eyes flashing as she said, “I won’t let you. I’ll use any means to escape if you harm him.”
His expression turned livid, his cobalt eyes darkening with the emotion as he stepped towards her and she felt a chill down her spine. “There is something I failed to mention since your arrival, I attempted courtesy and kindness to win you over, even with the nonsense of siring you but it seems you’ve drawn it from me regardless.”
Ginelle felt a sudden lump in her throat, “Are you saying you’re not my father?”
He smirked, “Does this not please you?”
“But-“
“I tried to convince you otherwise, all a ploy to get you to remain here until the child was born but you are very willful, very much like Anne.” He said this last remark with coldness.
He moved towards her in slow, menacing steps. “I don’t u-understand.” She stammered, “W-what do you mean?”
“I am getting old, far too old to marry or sire an heir before I die and considering the overwhelming amount of hatred and revenge I have for Ross and Anne’s betrayal, I vowed long ago that I would somehow make them pay for what they did to me. You my dear are simply a means to retaliation. You will remain here until your child is born and once you have dispensed the babe, you will no longer be needed.”
Ginelle felt her chest tightening with trepidation. She stepped away from him, her face paling beneath his hard, cobalt stare. “B-but you looked for me all this time, before my child?”
He shrugged his shoulders in a careless manner. “My plans have changed considerably. Once I learned Anne had sired a child by the very man who had betrayed my friendship, I declared I would take their child as revenge but because much time has transpired since then, and I am getting older with no heir to take on my legacy, you have solved all my problems. I shall simply take your child, after that, you’ll no longer be necessary.”
Ginelle felt a wave of vertigo and she stumbled beneath his blue stare. Her hands lashed out to grip something sturdy and suddenly a servant was at her side. “Miss Ginelle is not feeling well-“ she heard Sterling say coldly, “-see her to her room, Thora.”
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Once inside her room, Ginelle wrenched away from Thora and moved to put space between them. She had never felt so alone in her life, so frightened for her child and for the man she loved. She wrapped her arms around herself and moved to stand at the window. She felt Thora watching her from behind.
“You can leave.” She said callously, hurt for she had established a diminutive friendship with the girl when all along she had known her Lord’s plans in stealing her child.
“Are you angry with me, mademoiselle?” Thora asked softly, her voice laced with sincerity.
Frowning, Ginelle turned away from the window to peer at the girl standing with a nonplussed expression. “Your Lord plans to steal my child, you mean to tell me that you were not aware of this?”
The girl paled at this, her audible gasp the only sound emitted in the quiet of the room. “No milady!” she cried adamantly, “I had no part in it mademoiselle, I swear it! “
Ginelle fell silent, convinced of the girl’s innocence. “I am sorry, Thora.” Her voice quivered as she moved to the bed and sank down. “I am just frightened. He seemed so sincere and convincing that I had not seen right through his disguise.” Tears strolled down her face and she gently brushed them away.
Thora moved to her side and gently squeezed her shoulder for reassurance, “I am sorry, mademoiselle. I wish there were something I could do.” she said gently.
Ginelle sniffled and shook her head, “Do not say that. Lord Sterling would likely have you killed if you were to help me in any way.”
Thora stiffened at the remark, “I have never known Lord Sterling to be so cruel.”
There was a sudden knock at the door, jolting both women into a start. The door opened and an older woman named Norma peeked into the room, “Girl, you are needed in the kitchen.”
Thora nodded and gave Ginelle’s shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before leaving the room. When the door closed behind her, she heard the lock fall into place, confirming her imprisonment once again. She felt an onslaught of tears as she lowered to the bed and closed her eyes, forcing Dorian’s image to mind.
Lord Sterling had been so convincing of his pain, so sincere in simply wanting her to remain at his manor all for the sake of her mother’s memory and her startling resemblance. She had been so naïve to believe even for a moment that she was that man’s daughter when in actuality he had sinister plans unraveling right beneath her nose. He had killed Pierino and now he intended to kill Dorian to ensure that her child would become his beneficiary, his motives driven all for revenge.
A shudder passed through her body and she turned her face into her pillow as she released a sob. Sterling would most likely kill her once the child was born. There was much time to pass before her babe was expected but she would not take the risk in remaining at Cambridge. She had to get word to Dorian somehow and soon.
In a few days time, Ginelle had managed to gain the trust of many of the servants but luring them into her plans of escaping proved to be far more complicated for their loyalty to their Lord was unbreakable. She disguised her plans by assuming false curiosity in studying the estate, when in actuality, she was advising a way to break away from her imprisonment but Lord Sterling kept guards posted at every feasible exit.
She thought of this more carefully in her room as Thora’s knock signified the afternoon meal. Since Sterling had revealed his ultimate plans for her, she had rarely left the confines of her room, insisting on putting as much distance between she and her captor to better evaluate her scheme. Sterling seemed confident enough that she would not attempt to escape for he allowed her to roam freely throughout the manor but she remained skeptical that he doubted her decision to comply.
A thought suddenly occurred to Ginelle as she watched Thora cross the room to set the evening meal down. “Are you happy here, Thora?”
The girl turned to peer at her, slightly surprised by the unexpected question. She was silent a moment before replying, “I suppose that I am, miss.”
Ginelle wasn’t all convinced. “How long have you lived here?”
Thora shifted nervously under Ginelle’s questioning, sensing a motive to her inquisitiveness. She cleared her throat, “Um, all my life, milady.”
“Do you not wish for a different life?”
Thora shook her head, “What other life is there for me, miss, but this one that I have known all my life?”
“You are content living the life of a servant?”
“I am, milady.” Thora replied earnestly.
“But you are content here, at Cambridge?” she pressed.
The girl fell quiet, worrying her low lip with her teeth. Ginelle knew the girl feared of saying something wrong, something that her Lord may later find out. “I am your friend, Thora.” Ginelle said gently, “Whatever it is you wish to say, than please tell me.”
“Life here is not so bad.” Thora started, glancing towards the door, “Tis just very lonely at times. The other servants are much older than me and I have really no one to talk too.”
Ginelle studied Thora more intently, her black hair swept neatly into a plait and her dark curious eyes beheld a tiny glint of sadness that Ginelle had failed to recognize at first glance. “What if I told you that I could give you a better life?”
Puzzlement etched Thora’s sudden expression. “I do not know any other life but that of servitude, miss.”
“What if I told you that if you helped me escape that you could come with?”
Thora’s dark eyes widened with excitement, “Really?”
Ginelle nodded eagerly, “Yes, you could come with me to Ashford, my home? I have many friends there that would be happy to meet you?”
Thora stepped forward, her joy brightening her eyes gleefully, “And I could stay there and work for you?”
“If that is what you wish.”
Just as quickly as her excitement had flared, it diminished in moments. Thora dropped her head and said hopelessly, “I thank you, miss for your offer, tis very kind of you but Lord Sterling would be very angry if we were to get caught. I’m afraid I cannot risk it.”
Ginelle sank with dismay onto the bed and watched Thora leave the room. She would not give up hope. One way or another she would convince Thora to help her escape.
Later that evening, Alfred Sterling made his way to the parlor room, his thoughts regarding the woman he held captive. She beheld a gentle-nature but her defiance was exceptionally astonishing, very much like his Anne.
His fists curled mercifully at his sides at the memory of his late wife. The memory of her betrayal was as painful today as it was those many years ago when a servant informed him of her infidelity. He could have killed them both for betraying him. He felt much relief in knowing that Ross was dead but he would have done anything to have his Anne back which brought him to the girl upstairs.
The resemblance to her mother was frightening but astounding. He took great pleasure in knowing he would use the girl to satisfy his motives. All that he had revealed to the girl was painfully true; he would keep the girl at Cambridge because of her resemblance to her dead mother but the child would belong to him, heir to Cambridge. It brought him a great semblance of satisfaction in knowing that he had stolen Ross and Anne’s daughter and taken their grandchild as his own.
He was smiling when a servant stepped into the room informing that a visitor had arrived.
“Who is it?” he demanded, slightly piqued.
“Tis a Mister Blackburn, milord.”
Ah, his grin widened, Blackburn. It was the assassin he had hired to murder Pierino and the Ashford man. “Show Blackburn in.” he said anxiously, turning around to pour himself a glass of spirits.
The servant nodded and left quietly followed by a shuffling behind him as Blackburn entered the room.
Sterling lifted the glass and sipped gingerly, his smile widening as he slowly turned around. “I trust you succeeded in annihilating the Ashford threat?” his smile vanished abruptly, his fingers tightening around the glass in his hand as his eyes locked frightfully on the flintlock pistol leveled directly at his chest.
He swallowed and the brandy burned slowly down his throat as he hesitantly averted his eyes from the 9’ inch iron barrel to the ice-blue eyes glaring dangerously at him.
“Good evening, Baron Sterling.” Dorian said icily, “You have something I want.”
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