Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

V ictoria woke up feeling unbelievably heavy with sleep even as she struggled to fight the fog that clung to her mind.

As she shifted, the sheets beneath her rustled and she frowned in confusion.

This… was not her bed.

This was not even her room.

The air here was different, cooler mixed with the faint scent of aged wood and something unfamiliar, a subtle musk that didn’t belong to her familiar home.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and she blinked against the dim light filtering through thick curtains.

Thick burgundy curtains

Not cream, sheer flowing curtains

Where am I? She thought to herself.

Her heart began to quicken, a low, erratic, thrum in her chest as her eyes roamed around the room.

It was not immediately recognizable, and yet... there was something faintly familiar about it.

The high, timbered ceiling above her, the dark paneling on the walls, the sparse but elegant furnishings— none of it looked familiar to her.

The bed, though large and draped in thick blankets, was far too rustic for the fine linens she was accustomed to and even though the fire crackling gently in the hearth at the far end of the room gave the space a nice warmth, she still could not shake the unease settling over her.

She sat up slowly, her mind racing.

Her body felt unusually tired, as though it had been through more than mere sleep, and her limbs were sluggish, unwilling to move with her usual grace.

The events of the previous night were a haze, and no matter how she tried, she just could not recall what had led her here.

Wherever here was.

The last thing she remembered was the ball, dancing with Anthony, his laughter, the feel of his hand in hers as they twirled across the ballroom floor and then… he had excused himself, she had gone for … some refreshment and then... darkness.

Nothing more.

With an urgency, she threw aside the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed and as soon as her bare feet touched the cold wooden floor, she shivered, more from uncertainty than the chill in the air.

She rose to her feet and crossed the room slowly, her hands trailing over the furniture as if seeking some answer… or some proof that this was not all a strange dream.

Her fingers brushed over the rough surface of a wooden chair, the back of a weathered settee, until her gaze caught on something across the room—a portrait.

She moved toward it, her steps quickening as a sense of recognition came over her.

It was a large, oil-painted portrait hanging above the mantelpiece, the face of a man who seemed both stern and imposing, yet undeniably familiar.

He had sharp, angular features that were softened only slightly by the artistic hand that had painted him, but the resemblance to someone she knew was unmistakable.

Theodore's father.

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning, and she stopped short, her breath catching in her throat.

She knew this lodge.

Of course she did, she had been here before, years ago, when Theodore's family had invited hers to accompany them on one of their hunting trips.

She remembered the sprawling lodge in the woods, it had been in his family for generations and was quite a distance from her and Anthony's estate, which made it even more confusing that she was waking up here.

So… How had she come to be here?

What happened?

Her mind swirled with questions as she tried to piece together the memories of the night before.

Why would Theodore bring her here?

What would make him do that?

What happened last night?!

She needed answers.

The knot of confusion tightened in her chest, and her gaze darted around the room again, searching for answers, for any clue as to why she had woken here, of all places.

Had she fallen ill? Had Theodore brought her here to care for her? But why would he not have taken her to her own home, to her husband?

To Anthony

Where is Anthony, anyway? She wondered as she moved toward the window, her fingers parting the heavy curtains just enough to look outside.

The view that greeted her was wild and untamed, familiar woods that surrounded the lodge stretching out endlessly.

With no sign of any other house nearby, no indication of how far she might be from civilization.

No sign of anyone looking for her.

"Ugh, my head," she murmured as she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool glass to ease the pain.

She had to remain calm.

Panicking would do her no good.

She was sure there was a reasonable explanation for whatever had happened.

This was Theodore's place.

So she just needed to find him to find the answers.

And that meant he could not remain here, in this state of confusion.

A sudden, soft knock at the door startled her enough to make her jump, bringing her out from her thoughts. She turned quickly, her heart racing in her chest as she watched the door creak open to reveal a servant carrying a tray.

"Good morning, my lady," the woman said with a curtsy, her voice quiet and respectful. "His lordship said you would be in need of some breakfast."

Victoria blinked, her confusion deepening. "The lordship... Theodore?"

The servant nodded, her expression calm and respectful. "Yes, my lady. He also asked me to ensure that you were comfortable."

Victoria swallowed hard, allowing her to breathe a little better

So, it was Theodore who had brought her here, then.

But why?

Why not to her home?

What would make him bring her to a place so far removed from where she should have been?

Her castle.

She watched as the servant placed the tray on a small table near the bed, her mind racing and once the servant had left, she squared her shoulders, smoothing her gown—a plain, soft cotton nightdress ill-suited to the chill of the morning air and with quick, determined steps, she made her way out of the room.

She would find Theodore, and he would explain this madness and everything will make sense.

And then she will be on her way home.

The lodge was unusually quiet with only the faint sound of the crackling fire from her room accompanying her as she ventured down the hallway, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet.

Thanks to muscle memory, she was able.to map her way and turned a corner that led toward the study, a room she remembered from her previous visits.

As the new lord, Theodore would have to be spending his mornings there, reviewing correspondence or preparing for the day's hunt and so it made sense that she would head over there.

She balled her hands into fists as she neared the door, her heart beating with the angers that had begun to grow in her chest.

Yes, she was angry, frightened, confused -all at once- and for his sake she hoped he had a good enough reason to explain this… kidnap

Without bothering to knock, she pushed open the door to the study, the hinges groaning slightly as the door gave way to reveal the dimly lit room thanks to the pale morning light that was streaming in through the tall windows.

And at the far end, close to the windows, seated comfortably in a high-backed leather chair, was Theodore.

He looked up the moment she entered, a small smile spreading across his lips as if her sudden appearance was of no surprise to him.

As if it was normal.

He was dressed impeccably, as always, in a dark green waistcoat with gold embroidery at the edges, the rich fabric hugging his frame in a way that spoke of his high taste. His cravat was perfectly tied, and his dark hair, though slightly tousled, only added to his air of rakish charm.

As he rose to greet her, he quickly dropped the letter that he was perusing, his hands stretched out to her in a bid for a hug.

"Victoria," he said warmly, as though she had merely come to share a casual morning conversation. "How are you feeling now?"

Now?

Her steps had faltered for a moment at the sight of his easy smile, but then the anger that had been simmering within her flared.

She fisted her hands tighter, forcing herself not to calm down.

This was her friend.

She would listen to his explanation and then make her judgment.

"How am I feeling?" she repeated, her voice low but sharp. "I wake up in a place I did not intend to be, with no memory of how I arrived, and you ask me how I am feeling?"

His brow arched slightly, looking confused even though his expression remained calm and composed.

He moved from behind the desk and stepped toward her, his hands falling dome to clasp behind his back, his movements slow and measured.

"I apologize if I alarmed you, with this… the usual occurrence" he said, his tone placating but with an undertone she couldn’t quite place. "I only wished to ensure your safety."

"Ensure… my well-being?" she demanded, her voice rising with the frustration bubbling in her before she took a deep breath, reigning in her temper before she began again, this time her voice was softer. "Theodore, what is going on? Why am I here? What happened? You are talking as if this is all perfectly reasonable, but nothing about this is reasonable. One money I am at the ball and the next I am waking up in your hunting lodge. So, why am I here? Where is Anthony?"

His smile faltered at the mention of the name, and she noticed a shadow of annoyance passed over his face.

He closed his eyes before taking a deep breath.

"I brought you here to save you, Victoria," he said, his voice dropping a notch as he neared ger. "From Anthony."

She recoiled at his words, the words striking her like a physical blow.

What… What is he saying?

"Save me? From Anthony? What- what are you talking about? He is my husband."

Theodore’s expression hardened, and for the first time, she saw something dangerous flicker behind his eyes.

"I know, Victoria," he said, his tone growing more annoyed, more insistent even as he edges towards her, taking her by the arms. "I know you do not truly love him. How could you? A man like him- a beast like him, does not deserve someone like you. And you… you could never love someone like him."

Her mouth fell open in shock as she stared at him, unable to understand what she was hearing.

Theodore, her closest friend, her confidant, was standing in front of her, confident as he spat out such venomous words… something she had never witnessed from him before.

He took another step closer, and she could feel the heat of his presence, his eyes never leaving hers.

"What are you saying?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. "What do you mean... a beast? How can you say something like that? Theodore… this… this is not like you."

His eyes narrowed as his composure began to slip. "He is a brute, Victoria," he said, his voice low with contempt. "A man who cares nothing for you, he just needed a wife. He could never care for you, not as I do. He is beneath you, unworthy of your affection, of your loyalty. And I… I could no longer stand by and watch you waste away by his side."

"What?! You… you don’t know what you are saying, Theodore. Anthony is my husband. He- he loves me."

He lets out a laugh then, a sharp, bitter, scornful sound that sent a chill down her spine.

"Love you?" he sneered, taking another step toward her, finally getting up to her face. "How can a man like him love anyone? You deserve more than a life chained to a beast like that."

Victoria backed away, shaking her head in shock or disbelief, she wasn't sure. "You don’t understand. I know he is usually misunderstood but… he is not a beast, Theodore. He is a wonderful man. I… I love him-"

"No, you don't!" He snaps, his voice low and dangerous now. "Victoria," he continues, "You don’t love him. You can't love him. You don't… you don't understand. You… you have been bewitched and it is my fault. I have waited too long, and I am sorry."

"Theo-"

"I have watched you waste yourself on a man who is unworthy. But no longer. I will free you from him. And you will be mine. Like it was always meant to be."

Victoria could hear her heart pounding in her chest… it was starting to dawn on her that this was not a simple situation. His words as well as the raw, possessive hunger she saw in his gaze told her as much.

This was not the Theodore she knew.

The fun loving, quick-witted, easy-going man she so adored.

This man… this version of him… was a stranger.

A dangerous stranger.

"What don't we talk about this-" she began but was quickly cut off as he turned from her.

"There is no time to talk about it," he said. "I am not convinced Anthony will fall for the letter I left-"

"Letter?!" she repeated, a string of fear going through her. "What letter?!"

"-which is why we have to move fast," he continued, completely ignoring her question. "I have a ship ready-"

"Damn it, Theodore! What letter?!"

At her enraged tone, he turns to look at her and seeing the displeased look on her face, he decided to answer.

"I left him a letter, in your name, telling him how you can no longer be with him."

"What? No!"

"Yes. Victo-"

"He will never believe it," she said in gasp. "He won't. We are in a good place now… he-"

"He will believe it."

"No, he won't!’

"Yes, he will."

"You don't know that! You for k ow him like I do. He-"

"He will see that you cannot accept such a secret of him and his self-hatred will understand that."

"What did you do?"

"I told him about how the marriage between you two was only to help Charity escape an unhappy marriage to him."

"How did you find out about that?!"

"I was there that night. I followed you and stood outside the doors while you two discussed. I very nearly killed him when he asked you for a kiss but I couldn’t. I was surprised you kissed him. But enough about that, it is time for us to leave. The ship leaves for Italy this night, we can't afford to waste any more time."

Victoria stared at him, disbelief freezing her to the floor

Italy? Leaving tonight?

The room seemed to tilt on its axis as Theodore continued, his tone chillingly calm, as though he were merely discussing the most mundane of matters.

"You needn’t worry, Victoria," he said, with that infuriating smile on his lips. "All the arrangements have been made. Come dawn, we shall be far, far from here."

Her breath caught in her throat as her heart thundered in her chest.

"You… you are mad," she whispered as she stepped away from him, shaking her head in denial. "You must be! Italy? What on earth are you talking about? Theodore, what is wrong with you?!"

He raised a brow, as though her objection was the one irrational thing in the room.

"Madness?" His voice lowered, growing dangerously calm, the hint of that predatory gleam returning to his gaze. "No, my dear, this is the only sensible course of action. Dint you see? I’ve done this for you… for us. You will see, in time, that it is the right thing. Once you are free from that brute… free from the life you’re trapped in… you will understand."

"For us?" she asked in a trembling voice filled with outrage, her. "There is no us, Theodore, I am not some object to be taken at your whim. What you are proposing is not an escape… it’s… it’s a kidnapping!"

His smile faltered for a moment, as if he couldn't understand why she was reacting like that but then it was quickly replaced by a stern, almost patronizing look.

"Victoria," he said slowly, as though speaking to a child, "you don’t understand. I am saving you. Anthony is not the man you think he is. He cannot love you, not as I do. This is for your own good."

"My own good?" She took another step back, the tremor in her hands betraying the fury that was rising within her. "How can you say that? This… this is wrong! I never asked for this, never wanted this! You have no right!"

He took a deliberate step toward her, his calm mask cracking slightly as his impatience bled into his voice. "Victoria, I’ve made the arrangements. We are leaving tonight, and I will not allow your blind obsession to ruin this."

"You… will not allow me?!" she repeated, her voice was low and trembling with barely suppressed rage. "You speak as though I am yours, as though I was a prisoner and therefore have no say in my own life!"

"Don't you see Victoria? You are too precious to me to leave you in the hands of that monster. You do not know what is best for you. But I do."

Her breath quickened as she realized how deep his obsession ran, how utterly warped his sense of righteousness had become.

She could feel the walls closing in around her, the air thick with the weight of his insanity.

"No," she said firmly, backing away until she felt the edge of the desk press against her spine. "I will not go with you, Theodore. I am not moving anywhere with you. I will be going home. And you have no right to make these decisions for me. If you think I will allow myself to be carted off to Italy like a possession, you are gravely mistaken."

His eyes flickered with frustration, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he tried to rein in his temper. "I will do what is necessary, Victoria," he said, his voice darkening, "whether you understand that now or not. You will thank me in time."

"No," she repeated, her voice trembling with both fear and defiance. "I will not. Theodore, I will not be going anywhere with you."