Hope's Betrayal Part 27

"Get up."

Gripping her armpit, he yanked her upright. Hope boiled with indignation. Anger lifted her above fear-she was d.a.m.ned if she was going to make this easy for him..

"Why are you doing this?"

"Get moving."

"No." She stamped her foot, and overbalancing, threw herself back against tree roots. "If you wish me harm, do it here, don't drag me all the way down."

"You think I wish you harm?" Oswald grinned and had never seemed more sinister.

"Why else would you be doing this? If you want rid of me," she gestured wildly at the air, "push me over the edge. Don't make me walk to the bottom." She grew bolder as she grew more irate. "It will look like an accident, as if I tripped and fell. People will a.s.sume I was looking for Jasper and slipped in the fog."

She bit her lip, belatedly realising it wasn't the wisest choice to give her would-be murderer such an idea.

"Oh no, Miss Tyler, you have me all wrong. It's not you I wish to hurt."

"You don't?" Giddy with relief she almost laughed "No, it's not you I wish to punish-but Captain Huntley."

Hope's heart settled like a stone in her boots. "Not me?"

"Because of him, you have to suffer, a quick death won't do. He took from me, so I take from him. Huntley must pay."

"Why? I don't understand?"

But Oswald wasn't listening but muttering to himself. "I nearly succeeded, with Lady Ryevale , such a trusting soul, accepting a drink from a stranger. A shame I didn't know then how precious you are to Huntley. Her Ladyship suffered that agony for nothing! "

Hope gasped. "You poisoned Lady Ryevale?"

"Of course."

"She didn't even know you. What harm had Her Ladyship done you?"

"You miss the point. Her son must know the pain of loss-and that means harming those he cares for, the closer the better."

Clearly Oswald was deranged. Dumbfounded, Hope glanced around for help. She was perched on the side of a cliff with a madman. She fought back hysteria as she contemplated clawing at Oswald's eyes and pushing him off the path, but he was stronger than her and had a knife.

He shook his head. "I wouldn't try it. Besides, you cling to the hope that someone will rescue you, so why take the risk?" His smirked. "But of course, no one is coming, because no one knows I am here. They think I'm on the Island."

"And father," she whimpered, "he isn't on the beach?" Fear told her to keep Oswald talking.

"No, I had him beaten to a pulp. He wouldn't obey me, you see."

"Oh!"

"And by the time you are late for supper and found missing, it will be dark. They will search the woods-but no one will go to the beach. Quite simply, they won't look there. And in the morning, when eventually they send a boat, they will see your poor lifeless body, drowned on the rising tide."

Gripped by raw fear, Hope couldn't breathe.

"Imagine the water lapping at your toes, soaking your skirts as it claws up your legs, to compress your chest, and then fill your mouth and nose. Night after night, Huntley will have nightmares, knowing how you fought to keep alive. How you strained at the ropes, sucking air through pursed lips into your gasping lungs as you tried to keep your head against the waves-and those last moments, as the tides ebb and flow, granting a reprieve only to have it s.n.a.t.c.hed away with the next wave-'tis enough to drive a man insane."

"Why?" Sobbed Hope, wide-eyed. "What has he ever done to you?"

"He killed my brother!" He pushed her roughly. "Walk. There'll be plenty of time for storytelling, as the tide rises."

Hope slithered the last few yards and landed with a thump on her backside. Her first instinct was to flee, but the ground rumbled as Oswald landed beside her, his hand gripping her shoulder. She felt the p.r.i.c.k of a metal blade in the small of her back.

"Weren't thinking of running, were you?" his voice heavy with menace "No, not at all. I was getting out of the way in case you stumbled." She willed herself to stay calm. Perhaps if she could keep him talking and win his sympathy, she might catch him off guard.

"Which cove is this?"

"I'm not after pretty conversation. Be quiet and walk."

The cold blade of a knife nudged her in the back, forcing her to step forward. She had never been down to this beach before and it appeared to be a secluded bay, with a sandy beach which turned to shingle along the waterline. It was a private spot, much beloved she guessed, of smugglers because of the woodland which curved around it. Hope suppressed a wave of panic. The chances were, that even when people realised she was missing, they wouldn't search here. She had to keep Oswald talking, buy time while she formed a plan. He jabbed at her, pushing her across the beach toward the sea.

"Ouch! No need to be so rough, it's not as if I can run away."

"Seeing sense at last."

"At least tell me why you're using me to get to Huntley?"

A dry chortle echoed from the gathering darkness. "Come now, Miss Tyler, no need to be so coy."

"Truly. I have no idea."

Behind her Oswald leaned in close, his breath warm against her cheek. She shuddered. "He took someone I loved, so I'll take from him. At the Langham's Ball, I heard Huntley declare his undying love and propose to you."

A sense of unreality gripped Hope.

"And you think it's right, to take the life of an innocent person to avenge the death of another?"

"In this case, yes. But since you put it so prettily, and because I like you, I will ensure you are unconscious before you suffer a slow death from drowning."

A chill settled on Hope's bones and she cast around for help.

"If I am to die, might I know whose death it is I'm avenging?"

Oswald had her arm now, gripping the elbow so tightly she feared it might snap. Night was approaching and she felt doubly helpless. The sand turned to shingle underfoot, and just a short distance away she saw the white foam of breakers reaching the sh.o.r.e. She shuddered. On a night like this, drowning would be a cold and miserable death. She dragged her feet, fascinated by the water, fearing to go near it as if it were made of acid.

"I don't like the cold." She said simply.

"Can't do anything about that."

Hope refused to move. In a deft movement, Oswald swept her over his shoulder like a sack of coal and marched to a fallen tree on the water's edge. As he thumped her down on the fallen tree trunk, she felt a sense of relief. She had expected him to force her into the sea and push her head under, hold it there until her throat and lungs filled with water. Dare she hope he only intended to frighten her?

Menacingly, he planted his arms either side of her body, pushing his face into hers. She turned her head away to evade his kiss. In the growing darkness she could picture the snarl of his upper lip and sarcastic crease of his brow. He breathed heavily, the weight of his presence oppressive. The wind whipped in off the sea throwing up salt spray, p.r.i.c.kling her skin. She shuddered again.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why hate Huntley so much?"

She felt Oswald grow tense.

"He took everything." A globule of spittle hit her cheek. "Before he arrived, smuggling was profitable and people turned a blind eye." Rage shimmered off his body and Hope cowered.

"George was only a small part of the Excise men's work-it wasn't just him."

"No? But it was him that made the difference. For starters, he caught you...."

"I could have been hung, but he spared me."

"Because he l.u.s.ted after you."

"No! Not at all,...that wasn't it at all." Hope's insides turned to ice.

"Tis what the Excise men said."

Her heart beat in hammer blows. "No, he hated me at first. It was Lady Ryevale who stopped him handing me over."

The heat of rage radiated from Oswald's skin. The wind eddied around them, tugging and pulling at their words.

"Traitor! You betrayed your own kind."

Hope shook her head. "Never! I never betrayed anyone." Her mind raced as she struggled to explain. "It was me who learned the landing had been rumbled! It was on my information that you were able to subst.i.tute fish offal. How was that betrayal?"

Silence, except for Oswald's heavy breathing. She waited.

"I'll tell you why! Because you were looking out for yourself. As long as you were comfortable, we could all go to h.e.l.l."

"No. You've got it all wrong. It wasn't like that at all."

"Then tell me how it was." He voice rumbled low with menace.

Acid despair stuck in her craw. How could she explain, for the answer hung on the difference between right and wrong, and she doubted Oswald would understand.

"I never did anything to harm anyone. Merciful heavens, once I was a smuggler. My brother and father still are. Do you seriously think I'd do anything to endanger my own kin?"

"Indirectly, you're culpable."

"No. Please...let me go. I've done nothing."

Hope tried to wriggle away as Oswald pressed closer. Seated on the trunk, he stood pressed between her legs, arms either side of her body, pressing her backward. Everything happened so quickly, she had no idea what had happened. Oswald pinioned her against the tree trunk, like a b.u.t.terfly on a pad. She tried to struggle and free herself, but his grip tightened.

"Lie still."

But Hope had no intention of cooperating and taking best guess at the location of Oswald's groin, swung her knee up hard. A dull groan was her reward, swiftly followed by a stinging slap to her face. Roughly he grabbed her hair, yanking it by the roots. Repeatedly he hammered her head against the tree trunk, a dull thudding pain slamming up through her skull -until she blacked out.

When she regained consciousness, Hope had a feeling of being securely tucked up in bed, and almost sighed. But on the hinterland of waking she tried to turn over, to rest her head on the cool side of the pillow, but couldn't move. In fact, her shoulders stung from being held at an unnatural angle behind her. She opened her eyes and blinked, but the landscape was blanketed in gloom. A heavy, shuddering fear resurfaced at the memory of Oswald smashing her head against the tree.

Now fully awake, she realised the throbbing in her head wasn't just a headache but the pounding of the nearby sea. Wondering if her captor was close at hand, cautiously she tested her arms. Something rough bit into her wrists; she lay p.r.o.ne on her back, with her arms twisted back around the trunk and bound together-locked in a bizarre backward embrace with a fallen tree.

She was cold, so very cold. Numb, in fact. Her feet stung they were so icy, as the tide licked at her skirts. With a convulsive effort she pulled against her bonds, which tightened them. From out of the darkness, a dry chuckle echoed.

"Where is your precious Captain Huntley now then? Not going to save you, is he."

"Let me go!"

She almost wrenched her arms from their sockets as she heaved against her bonds, panic squeezed her heart as a wave splashed over her ankles.

"My dear Miss Tyler, as you have been honest with me, I shall consider making your end swift. I'm not a cruel man and one who wouldn't make a chicken suffer. If you ask nicely, with one blow you will be unconscious and not know the slow torture of drowning."

More than anything, Hope wanted to live. At least while she was awake there was a chance, if she kept him talking- no one was coming for her. Oswald was right. It was up to her, somehow, she had to change his mind.

She blurted out. "Tell me, tell me about the brother you lost"

"Huntley murdered my brother."

Hope swallowed hard, she could no longer feel her feet and the cold was making it difficult to think. "Tell me." Above the pounding waves, the trunk reverberated-Oswald must have struck it and struck it hard.

"That b.a.s.t.a.r.d shot my brother on a smuggling run."

"I'm so sorry," Hope whispered, "but he was on a raid, it wasn't in cold blood."

"But Clive was my responsibility, my baby brother. I shouldn't have let him come along but he begged, said he'd sneak along anyway."

"How long ago?" Hope had the uncomfortable sensation she already knew the answer to that question.

"Need you ask? It was a landing, a big one. Oh, I've known for a while things is cooling, but I needed one last consignment to set me up. Had it planned perfectly, everything in place, should have gone like clockwork-no moon, calm seas-when all h.e.l.l breaks loose. Gunfire. One second Clive is standing beside me, and the next he's gone. Knocked clean off his feet he was, squirming like a stuck pig with a bullet in his guts."

Oswald lapsed into silence.

Hope gathered her courage. "But anyone might have shot Clive. In the dark with shots everywhere. How can you be so sure it was Huntley?"

"On account of I fired at the man who shot Clive-and hit him. d.a.m.ned near killed him as well."

"Oh," nausea washed over Hope. "So you...?."

"He wasn't meant to live, but as he has, then I'll make his life a living h.e.l.l. My only regret is that your death won't be as slow as Clive's, who died of infection, four days later."

"Hasn't there been enough killing?" Hope squeaked.

"Aye, that there has."

"Then let me go."

"No, it ends with you. Once I've had my revenge, then it ends."