Page 1 of Wicked Games

CHAPTER 1

LIZZIE

Imight be losing my mind.

I can’t tell what is real and what isn’t anymore.

All I know is if I don’t escape now, I will truly go mad.

I strained to listen for any sound of movement, but all I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears. Lowering to my hands and knees, I crawled along the floor. My shoulder brushed the wall as I followed the perimeter of the room. For what felt like the hundredth time, my foot got caught in the voluminous fabric of my long nightgown. This time, as I jerked my knee forward to free it, I accidentally knocked into a small table filled with delicate figurines.

For one sickening moment, I could feel all hope drain from my body as I helplessly watched two bride and groom statuettes wobble then topple to the floor. I was saved by the woven Oriental carpet, which muffled the sound. Not taking any chances, I kept still, crouched behind a richly upholstered chair. The gold threads from the elaborate scrollwork pattern gleamed in the low moonlight cast from an opening in the heavy brocade curtains from across the room. That opening was my target.

I could not risk crossing the carpeted portion of the room, so I continued along the edge, where the nails from the hardwood floor pressed painfully into my knees. Just as I reached the far side windows, I heard voices in the hall. I quickly crawled behind the heavy curtain and waited.

“Tell Mrs. Jennings I want new leather restraints ordered,” commanded a deep, authoritative voice.

It’s him!

I covered my mouth with both hands to keep from crying out in fear.

“The leather is becoming worn so the buckles are not tight enough. As you know, Lady Elizabeth must be protected from her own night terrors.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” answered some faceless servant.

I couldn’t suppress the shudder that racked my body. Squeezing my eyes shut, I wished I could erase the memory of the brutal humiliations I suffered as a consequence. My stomach twisted at the thought of what I had allowed him to do to me… of how I begged for it.

I was brought back to the present as both men entered the parlor where I was hiding. The sharp wooden edge of the windowsill wedged painfully between my shoulder blades as I pressed close to the wall, willing myself invisible.

“Have these windows all been secured for the evening?”

Dammit.

If the servant said no then I would certainly be discovered. I could not even dwell on the possible punishment I would receive for such a blatant disobedient act.

Unable to stop myself, I risked a quick glance from behind the curtain and immediately regretted my rash actions.

He was staring straight at me.

I was caught.

I was sure of it.

I could feel his dark eyes bore through the fabric of the curtain, past my nightgown, to strip me bare.

Once more I was gripped with paralyzing fear and uncertainty.

What if what he says is true?

Are these memories and thoughts I have really just the delusional dreams of a madwoman?

Am I safer with him, under his protection, as his ward?

No.

No, I know I am not safe with him.

This isn’t real.

---