Seducing Anne (33 page)

“I want my family returned to my home immediately,” Nick said, his jaw tensing.

“No. They will be returned the second you deliver Elizabeth into the hands of Henry VIII, not before. They are safe enough where they are.” Number one stood taller than ever—like an implacable mountain of sinew, gristle and bone.

“And where are they?” Nick’s voice shook for the first time ever.

“In the Tower of London, of course. Where Anne should have been a few years’ time from when Guy kidnapped her.”

“She came with me willingly,” Guy all but shouted.

“Yes, yes,” number one agreed, rolling his eyes halfway up into his head like this conversation was draining beyond belief.

“I agree, if I am guaranteed my family will not be ill-treated and no harm will come to them.” Nick shifted toward the table and then stood.

“Where are you going?” number one asked.

“To see my cousin. At least one of us should have some happy news today.” Nick brushed his way past him and sauntered out the door, leaving Guy alone with the man made of bricks and mortar.

“Your life ends after she births the baby. You will be banished to the Stone Age. No point agent there to help you. No hope of return. We will burn the program that is linked to your chips. There will be no going back.”

“I thought you would kill me,” Guy said, deadpan.

“It’s worse than death. Believe me. Try to sleep in a cave with no clothes and no hope of fire, and you’ll probably find the first sharp rock you can find and slit your throat for us.”

Number one ushered Guy out of the room, and moments later, he was back in the black car with his favorite driver—the SHROAG-fan-boy.

Only this time, fan-boy was somber and deathly quiet.

So was Anne—seated at his side, refusing to meet Guy’s eyes while she ignored her own newly red, swollen, angry-looking right ankle.

What else was there to say, except that she was innocent of all blame and that he wanted to kill the king, and would, if given the chance.

If he had still been in Henry’s court, his new sport he would have taken up would’ve been how to obliterate a king in his sleep.

Chapter 17

Nothing was the same. No matter how much Guy wanted it to be, everything was different.

Anne was more subservient than ever, docile even and making sure that every need Guy had was met silently and with speed and precision.

It was heart-wrenching.

He tried to talk to her about it, but she’d break down crying, apologizing profusely for allowing Henry to bed her.

He kept reassuring her the rape was not her fault, and he would continue to tell her that fact until she believed it.

She seemed to lean on Nick over the next few weeks. He helped her with mundane things like laundry, and in some ways, it was humorous to watch them master tasks like the washing machine or the DVD player.

“Are you heading out to Mass?” Guy asked as the two of them stood at the doorway, dressed in Sunday clothing.

“Yes, Master,” Anne said, her tone gentle and quiet.

“Wait for me. I’m coming, too.” He ran back to the bedroom, threw on some dress slacks and a white button-up shirt, then joined them at the doorway.

On the drive over, with Nick in the back and Anne at his side, he finally broke down. “Nick—you know you can’t take this baby from us.”

“I have to.” Nick stared into the rearview mirror.

“No. You don’t.” Anne edged closer to Guy, and he took her hand, then continued on, “As soon as you hand our baby over to that wicked king, he’ll slaughter her, and you next. Even if the agency hasn’t already killed your family, and if they choose to spare them, Henry will see to it they’re all wiped off the land.”

“He will not. And the agency has not struck them down. I check history logs daily to make sure nothing has changed. There would be mention,” Nick said, his voice tight. “I also have connections now in the agency, and they keep an eye on it as well.”

“That may be, but there is no telling what lengths they might go to in order to cover this up.” Guy pulled into the church parking lot. He parked, then craned his head over his shoulder. “I put it to your conscience. You ask God in here today what is to be your destiny—if you are to aid him in his path of truth and righteousness. He sent me to save Anne, and that was what I did. I think he sent you to do the same—to help us find our last way home to him. I will never turn from my wife. Never. And she knows this. Now, I ask you. If you do not fear man, do you at least fear God? What will you say to him in the next life when you are face-to-face and he asks you why you brought my infant daughter like a lamb to the slaughter, when you had every power to spare her?”

Guy left it at that, got out of the car and then went to the passenger’s side and helped Anne out.

He leaned down and kissed the amethyst at her throat and whispered, “
My
baby—
my
sweet Elizabeth.” He caressed her protruding belly.

Tears welled up in his eyes. Dammit. He should have never found out the sex of the baby, but he couldn’t resist knowing when the ultrasound was in progress all those weeks ago.

Nick was stoic as he walked behind them on their way inside the church building.

He attended Mass with them, prayed at their side and showed no sign of a change of heart.

Guy would have to find another way to convince him.

Maybe he could contact John and make sure someone went back and took hold of Nick’s family for Guy.

* * *

The next three months were better. Anne was more affectionate and open with Guy, ever since he threw it in Nick’s face the fact he would be massacring their innocent child by handing Elizabeth over to the king.

He and Nick prepared for the labor and birth by reading everything they could on homebirth, including manuals for midwives. They even took first aid classes and infant CPR.

Guy bought all the necessary supplies.

Anne was dealing with a lot of Braxton Hicks and was getting sick of all the “practice labor contractions.” Some of them appeared fairly uncomfortable.

It was easy to see why some women would be confused with the birth of a first child on whether or not they were truly in labor.

Last night, she woke him up because she was having some fairly intense ones.

He massaged her back, her legs and kissed her anywhere she would allow. His fingers stroked her belly to soothe her.

It was increasingly more difficult for her to sleep. He had bought her two body pillows, ran extra fans for her and even left snacks on the nightstand for her so she could avoid a trip to the fridge in the middle of the night.

Nick would hear her out there and it would wake him up, too. He was very alert every time, believing it was labor.

Today Guy was working on a bracelet for their baby girl. Anne was overdue and very vocal about how awful it was to have such a stubborn baby that would not join the world already.

“When will this ever end?” she groaned, palms set on top of her belly while she rolled her neck.

He didn’t dare tell her he was not anxious for it to be over, because that would possibly mean their baby being taken away.

Even if the baby was in utero, he was still bonding with his little one, and he’d never been happier to be around a pregnant lady.

“Come here, lavender,” he said, motioning for his wife.

Her lower lip jutted out. “This is a burdensome load to carry. Are you sure ladies are supposed to be this big when increasing? I am larger than a—”

“You are not. Stop comparing yourself to the mountains around us. You look lovely, and I know this little girl is very happy, cozy and warm in there.” He lifted her shirt up and kissed her belly button that now poked out. “Hello, sweet Elizabeth. Your daddy loves you more than you can possibly ever fathom.” He ran his lips back and forth over her womb, then rested his cheek and ear to listen for movement inside.

“Ow!” Anne said, sounding shocked.

“She’s trying to kick me away. I’m crowding her. Smart girl. She realizes she needs a lot of space.” He gave another kiss and caressed on both sides of her abdomen with gentle circles. “I can’t wait to meet her. She’s going to be mesmerizing like her mother.” He looked up at Anne, and she was teary-eyed.

“She would have a lot more space out here. We have a house for her use.” She dropped her head and whispered, “What will we do when she goes? I cannot bear the thought of parting with her.”

She glanced around to see if Nick was nearby.

Guy kissed her belly once more, then covered it back up with her shirt. “I think he will do the right thing,” he said in a hushed voice.

“That is what I am afraid of—he will give her over to Harry, who might slaughter her.” She covered her mouth with her left hand, her diamond ring glinting at him. Her eyes closed tight, and she grimaced in pain as she shook her head. “How can I go on?”

“You will, because I will not allow our family to be separated. This I vow. There is always a way to get her back.”

“How? I cannot chip a tiny baby. It would harm her delicate skin.” She opened her eyes and tears hung on her lashes.

“I can always go back and take her myself.”

She sighed like this was not an answer at all.

“Everything will be all right. You let me worry about how we’ll keep her. You just keep getting prettier everyday like you always do, and keep pleasing me. That’s all you’re charged with, good woman. Now, eat something, drink something and take a nap. You never know when our daughter will make an appearance.” He smiled.

She frowned. “I cannot fit any more food in my condensed stomach. It is so small, there is no hope for it.”

“But you will try, yes?”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded, trod over to the fridge and opened it, cringing like she always did.

It still alarmed her—electric appliances with lights and their own hum of energy.

She pulled out a hardboiled egg and some grapes.

As she ate, she stared out the back window at the garden.

When she was done, she went back to their room and lay down, leaving the door open.

Guy was fashioning a bracelet for their daughter that hopefully would keep Elizabeth here with them.

It should be incredibly difficult to remove as well.

God, his stomach warmed as he thought about how Anne would love to nurse their baby for as many years as she wanted.

He’d read about how Henry let her do it a little, but then insisted she quit, even though she loved it and protested over a wet nurse. But it was her job to breed another heir, so in her time period, she was not allowed to nurse her child for any length of time.

The red and blue little metal beads sparkled and were so shiny, they might cause him to squint if he saw them in the sun.

Perfect.

He had a letter for her name etched into each bead, along with his own and Anne’s. Even if they did take her away, she would know where she came from.

She would know she was his little girl—the reason he made any sense at all.

He tugged on the clasps, making sure they were sturdy.

They held together well, failing to budge at all.

Perfect.

It was all to be perfect.

He’d make it so.

So damn perfect Anne would bless the day she followed him here to his world.

He started to make a duplicate, just in case this one broke.

When he was about halfway done, he could hear Anne shifting about in bed in their room.

“G-guuuuy,” Anne moaned from their room and then he heard something heavy drop to the floor.

He set the bracelet down and all his tools on the coffee table, then raced back to her.

She was on her hands and knees, rocking her hips back and forth and panting. “Ohhhhh I hope . . . I hope . . . Oh no!”

He went down on his knees as well and massaged her lower back.

“This is . . . unbearable!” She whimpered.

He fought off a grin. Maybe this was it.

When he was sure the contraction was over, he asked, “Sweetheart, tell me all the details of what is happening. Is this the first contraction you’ve had? Did it wake you from your nap?”

Her bottom lip trembled. “No, sir. I am sorry. I know I was supposed to report to you when I had rushes, but I did not want to disturb you.”

He rubbed the back of her neck. “You must always disturb me, but it is all right—tell me.”

“I slept a little, but I kept having them, and they kept rousing me. So, I removed myself to the bathroom to relieve myself, and I heard liquid pouring into the toilet before I even . . .”

He quirked a brow. “What color was the fluid?”

She peered at him from the side. “Clear, my lord.”

“Good. Sounds like our little girl is ready or will be very soon. Your bag of waters has broken.”

“It is messy,” she complained and then grabbed for a towel she had on the bed.