Justine Cole - The Copeland Bride

He advanced on her with deadly purpose. She began to back away, and then, horrified, she watched him uncoil the lash until he held only the stout leather butt clenched in his fist.

"I'm within my rights as your husband."

A scream tore from her throat.

"If you don't want the servants to witness this, I suggest you keep your screams to yourself. Or maybe I'll gag you."

"You can't do this," she sobbed, unable to pull her eyes away from the monstrous lash snaking across the floor at his feet as he moved closer to her. "Nothing happened tonight. Nothing ever happened. I swear it. I love you, Quinn!" The admission was torn from her with all the agony of a stillbirth. "I love you!"

With a howl of rage, he lifted his arm and snapped his wrist.

He had never intended to hit her. It was merely by accident that he even held the whip in his hand, for in his preoccupation with his own despair, he had absentmindedly picked it up from the floor of the stall where one of the stable boys had carelessly tossed it. But when he had seen the fear in her eyes and realized that she actually believed him capable of using the vile weapon on her, he had been powerless to toss it aside. And now in his rage at hearing her swear her love for him when he knew she was only lying to save herself, he struck out.

The cruel tip of the lash sliced through the silk of her gown, splitting the side from the hip down and exposing one slim leg. It did not touch her flesh, but that made no difference to him. Filled with self-loathing, he flung the hateful weapon across the stable.

With a strangled scream, Noelle threw herself after it. "I'll kill you for this!"

The butt was warm from his hand when she caught it up. She jerked her arm back and swung it through the air. The lash caught the corner of his jaw, leaving a thin trail of blood behind. Before she could draw it back again, he snared it in his fist and yanked it from her hand. Lost to reason, she flew at him, going for his eyes with her nails, barely noticing when he restrained her hands.

"You hypocrite!" she screamed. "I was never unfaithful! Not like you! How many women have there been since we were married? Spreading their legs so you could rut between them!"

"That's enough!" he roared. "You even talk like a whore!" Grabbing her by the shoulders, he flung her back into the straw. "Now you'll play the whore for me!"

With a cry that was filled as much with despair as it was with rage, he yanked up her skirt and fell on her. His fingers left a scratch across the soft skin of her belly as he ripped off her dainty undergarments. He raped her violently.

When it was over, she turned on her side in the straw, not even bothering to push down her skirt and cover herself. It was he who wrapped her in his coat and carried her to her bedroom. He who gently bathed the inside of her thighs. At the same time he cleansed her, he engraved a picture in his mind that he knew he would carry to his grave.

When he saw that she was finally asleep, he sat down at her small desk. For some time the only sound in the room was the scratch of a pen moving across paper. When he was done, he read what he had written.

My dear Noelle,

I said we were poisoning each other and tonight has proved the ugly truth of those words. What has happened has convinced me that we can't remain together any longer. I will arrange for your passage back to England and see that you're provided for.

I'm not asking your forgiveness, because I know you won't be able to give it. The only way I can begin to make amends is to give you the freedom you've always wanted, and so I will contact my attorney about a divorce. Now that we're in America, it should not be difficult. You'll soon be free to marry Brandt if you wish. He's a good man and will take better care of you than I have.

I received a message from Wasidan today and must go to Washington. I won't see you again.

Quinn

He folded the letter in half and leaned it on the mantelpiece. Then he kissed her closed lids in farewell and left the room.

"Noelle, forgive me for calling so early in the morning. I had to see you."

She felt a stab of guilt as she walked into the drawing room. The last time she had seen Wolf, he was lying unconscious on the floor. But not until minutes ago, when Grace had told her he was downstairs, had she spared him a moment's thought.

He took a step toward her, and she saw the swollen purple bruise. "Oh, Wolf, your jaw!"

"It is nothing. You are the one I am concerned about. Are you all right?"

She drew a tremulous breath. "No, I-I'm afraid I'm not." Her hand shook as she held out Quinn's letter. "Read this."

Wolf took it from her and carried it over to the window. He skimmed the page and then went back to the beginning and read it through again, more carefully. When he was done, he looked at Noelle, standing like a marble statue next to the fireplace, and saw how pale she was, how painfully fragile in her misery.

Walking over to her, he handed back the letter. "Is the thought of never seeing him again so horrible to you?"

"Oh, Wolf, I can't hide from it anymore. I love him."

"Does he know?"

"I told him last night, but he didn't believe me."

"Do you want this divorce?"

"I don't know what I want anymore. Last night I wanted to kill him. Then I wanted to die. This morning, I…" Her words trailed off. She made a series of small, tight pleats in the letter and then thrust it deep in her pocket. "He raped me, Wolf. But now there's no rage left inside me, only sadness and bitterness. Somehow I can't get rid of the notion that it was himself he was punishing, not me."

"Do as he says, Noelle. Get your divorce and marry me. I will give you the life you deserve."

"How could I do that to you!" she cried. "You're not a man to settle for second best, and one day you'd grow bitter."

Brandt had known that this would be her answer. Still, he would make one last effort before he gave up the dream of having her. Cupping her chin in his hand, he kissed her gently. "I am willing to take that risk, my darling."

"But I'm not," she said softly. "I care too much for you to hurt you like that."

Wolf trailed a finger down her cheek and then walked resignedly over to one of the lemon-yellow settees. "He loves you, you know."

"You're wrong!" she cried. "He detests me."

"No, my darling. At the moment, he detests only himself. To him, loving is a weakness to be conquered. Quinn can tolerate weakness in others, but never in himself. My sister understands this about him. In many ways, she understands him better than you."

"And she'll be here to comfort him when he returns," Noelle snapped.

"No, she will not. Come sit down next to me, my darling. I am about to do something noble, and it will be easier for me if you're close by."

She looked at him quizzically and then did as he asked.

"I have not been entirely honest with you, partly from loyalty to my sister and partly from my own selfishness because I wanted you for myself. But now I think it is only fair to tell you that Quinn did not send for Anna and that they have not slept together since she arrived."

"I don't believe you. Anna told me herself that-"

"She lied to you." Wolf caught Noelle's hand and held it tight. "I am taking Anna away with me. We leave for Savannah tomorrow and then for France next week. I promise you, you will not have to worry about my sister again."

Noelle looked at him incredulously, trying to take in what he was saying. "Why are you doing this? She will hate you."

"Even my sister must someday bow to the inevitable, and I will not permit her to destroy herself any longer. When she is no longer angry, she will realize I am right. Anna is a realist, you see, and she already knows that Quinn loves you." He stood and gazed down at her. "I must go now."