The Road to Dark Desire

By Brooklynn Rivers

An injured highwayman with a bounty on his head. A lady determined to save his life. Who will sacrifice the most in the name of love?

Quentin Ellesbrooke has it all until he is betrayed by his lover, Katherine Prescott and her evil stepbrother Alastair. With danger nipping at his heels, the Ellesbrooke Bandit gets more than he bargains for when a beautiful lady saves his life. Soon the battle between honor and forbidden lust will begin.

Skyler Weston is about to embark on an adventure wilder than she could ever imagine. After rescuing a stalwart highwayman from the brink of death, she becomes entangled in a web of hidden pleasures, danger and intrigue. Can this highwayman be trusted or is he a gentleman rogue out for his own gain? Seduced by his mysterious past, she is torn between protecting her virginity and succumbing to the dark desires that lie dormant within her soul.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brooklynn Rivers
• Release date: Mar 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476241210

Brooklynn Rivers

Ms. Rivers is a native of Virginia and is currently living near the beautiful Shenandoah Valley. In her spare time, she enjoys hiking, photography, cooking, and (of course) watching the History Channel. Long summer days and slow walks on the beach are just a few of her favorite things. She has traveled abroad visiting castles and monuments which have inspired her writing career. Brooklynn is an avid history buff that loves to incorporate elements of real life events in her stories.

Book preview

The Road to Dark Desire

By

Brooklynn Rivers

Copyright

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The Road to Dark Desire

Copyright 2012 by Brooklynn Rivers

ISBN: 9781476241210

Smashwords Edition

Cover Design by Barbara Allen

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

Thanks to all my family and friends who have supported me during this adventure of creativity. A very special thank you to author N.R. Allen. Your encouragement is priceless.

Table of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

About the Author

Chapter 1

Dawn splashed the clouds with wisps of pink and purple chasing away the darkness that had consumed Shooter's Pass the night before. The coach should round the bend at any minute, Quentin Ellesbrooke thought, watching the sun crest over the treetops. The gold would soon be his and no man was going to stop him. He pulled on the reins with a gloved hand to keep a tight hold on his steed.

Steady, Jack, it won’t be long now.

He reached up to straighten his tricorn while his horse spewed a light mist into the air. A rush of excitement surged through his veins. Danger rippled within his body. Thoughts of another successful robbery stirred in his belly. He could taste victory on the tip of his tongue.

As he unsheathed his flintlock, apprehension washed over him. Anxiety set him on edge knowing gunfire would soon break loose. One palm skimmed down the barrel while the other gripped the stock. A grin curled his lips knowing he was prepared for anything.

Ole Bess, he said, tracing the engraving on the lock, you’ve never let me down yet.

Taking the measure out of his satchel, he quickly poured black powder into the barrel and gave it a firm shake. He dug deep inside his pocket, searching for the heavy lead. Like so many times before, he placed the patch between the opening and the ball then plunged the ramrod into the barrel to set the missile firmly on top of the charge.

We are locked and loaded, old chum, Ellesbrooke whispered to Jack, thumbing the brass cock and lock-plate, All we have to do is wait it out.

An eerie calm enveloped him as he melted into the dark foliage.

Patience, old fellow, Ellesbrooke said, trying to quiet his horse, Don’t give us away.

Tick, tick, tick. Time crept by so slowly. Minutes felt like hours. Where is the stagecoach? Come on. It had to be midmorning by now and still no action. With a loud huff, he tightened his jaw and tousled Jack’s mane wishing for a sign—any hint that would soothe his restless spirit.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle echoed through the forest hollow. Another shrill call set his nerves on fire. He swallowed hard. The sound of horses’ hooves pounded in his ears. Gravel crushed against each wheel grinding hard against cold iron. Ellesbrooke pulled back on the reins and growled,

It’s time, Jack. Don’t fail me now.

The carriage thundered down the trail. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. With one last breath, he cocked his pistol and prepared to launch the attack.

Just a bit closer, Ellesbrooke whispered, feeling his heart thud against his chest, Steady, ole boy, steady.

Sweat gathered on his forehead. He squeezed the reins tighter. Blood raced through his veins, adrenaline exploded inside him.

Hold, he commanded, Hold steady.

Suddenly, a sharp snap of the coachman’s whip ricocheted through the hollow.

Go! Go!

He dug his heels into Jack’s ribs propelling him out of the thicket. The rickety wheels roared by leaving a thick cloud of dust along the path. The chase was on, and tensions were high. It won’t be long now, he thought, drawing closer to the coach.

A loud explosion ripped through the air sending a jolt of energy through his body. He looked over his shoulder and saw three other highwaymen join in the chase. No one would ever get by the Ellesbrooke Bandit and his band of miscreants. It won’t be much longer before the gold was theirs. The battle is nearly over, he grinned, watching a puff of smoke float along the gravel road.

Ellesbrooke and his gang raced alongside the carriage as another blast echoed through the hollow. The sooty smell of ash filled his nostrils. Dust pelted his face. Sparks flew high in the air. He aimed Ole Bess at the coachman and watched panic flood the old man’s eyes.

With a hard pull on the reins, the driver brought the carriage to an abrupt halt. Dirt and stones flew from the spindle wheels carving out deep grooves in the path. Ellesbrooke blocked the narrow road that bisected Shooter’s Pass. Jack reared back on his hindquarters bellowing out a loud whinny.

Stand and deliver! Quentin yelled, pointing his pistol straight at the coachman.

Yield! The driver threw his hands up in the air, Take what you want. Just leave us unharmed!

Us? Quentin turned to his gang and said, Hold him steady, lads.

Why was the coach filled with passengers instead of money? He didn’t know the answer but was determined to find out. Sliding off his saddle, he felt his boots dig deep into the ground. Pebbles grated into the dirt with each step. This could be a trap, he thought, swaggering over to the carriage. After all, he was the most wanted highwayman in Great Britain. It would take more than an army to apprehend the Ellesbrooke Bandit. Clutching the handle with one hand, he raised Ole Bess with the other preparing for a fight.

Be on guard, Ellesbrooke, Slade warned, grabbing the driver’s leather satchel.

Quentin gave him a quick nod and pointed his pistol toward the window. He cautiously unlatched the door and threw it open ready to bring down anyone hiding inside. A sweet perfume drifted out of carriage—roses and heather. A wicked smile curled his lips.

Keep a sharp eye, gents, he said, lowering his weapon, Take the coachman for a stroll while I investigate.

Before climbing inside, Ellesbrooke heard them all laugh. He peered into the dimly lit interior and saw a woman sitting quietly on the bench, masking her face with a fan.

Don’t be afraid, Quentin said softly, I mean you no harm, my lady.

Of course you don’t. She lowered her fan. I’ve often questioned the dark stories surrounding the infamous Ellesbrooke Bandit.

Katherine? he whispered, feeling his heart pound harder, What are you doing here?

I brought gifts from inside Ellesbrooke Castle, lover, she replied, batting her eyes, flaunting the rings that decorated her fingers.

He caught her hand and massaged her knuckles with his thumb. A wicked grin ran across his lips. She was perfectly beautiful, ravishing. With her blue eyes and voluptuous body, Katherine Prescott was too tempting to ignore. Quentin knew she was nothing more than a conniving liar, but there was something about Katherine he couldn’t resist.

It’s unwise for you to travel Shooter’s Pass alone, my lady, he said, twisting the rings around her slender fingers, If your stepbrother cared anything about your welfare, he’d never allow you to venture out unguarded.

Perhaps he doesn’t know of my whereabouts, she smiled.

I highly doubt that, he laughed.

Doubt all you want, lover, she whispered, He is quite dim when it comes to such things, especially concerning matters of the heart.

And of pleasuring women. He kissed her hand gently.

Only the Ellesbrooke Bandit knows how to please me, she said seductively.

So true, my lady, he grinned, sliding each bauble from her hand, All of these riches could never outshine your beauty.

Oh Ellesbrooke, you flatter me! she squealed, watching him drop each one in his vest pocket, Is that all you want?

My lady, I pride myself for holding fast to my gentlemanly valor.

Even if it costs you the king’s gold? She leaned forward slowly.

His eyes wandered further down to the full mounds of flesh peeking out from her ruffled bodice. And what do you know of such riches, my lady?

I’ll tell you everything for the price of one kiss, she teased, but not just any kiss. It must be a kiss from the true Earl of Ellesbrooke.

Quentin moved closer, dipping his forefinger in the swell of her breasts. Stay away from her, his conscience warned, she was up to something. The wanton look in her eyes, the sly grin curling her lips drew him closer into temptation. It was useless to resist. She’s nothing but trouble. Her lies and deception had roped in many a man in the past—including him.

Katherine, Katherine, Katherine, he whispered.

Are you not going to give me what I want? she asked.

Warning bells echoed in his mind, cautioning him to stay on guard. One moment of passion could cost him his life. When would he ever learn? He grinned wickedly thinking that some lessons were best learned the hard way. Life was full of uncertainty. There had been plenty of situations that could have snared him before, but he managed to get away. She was worth the risk.

As you wish, my lady, he whispered, capturing her lips with his own, exploring every moist crevice of her mouth. Strawberries, he thought, driving his tongue deeper. She tasted as sweet as strawberries.

Lord Ellesbrooke, she panted, You tempt me.

I know, sweeting, he whispered breathlessly, loosening the silk ribbon that secured her bodice. There’s so much more I intend to tempt.

We could be caught! she gasped as he unleashed one full breast from her corset.

True, he stated, bending his head to lap one ripe nipple, but it makes our encounters much more intense, does it not?

Yes! Katherine exclaimed as heat rose between them, Oh, yes!

Tell me all you know about the king’s gold, my darling. He pulled the front of her dress down around her waist and nibbled on her collarbone.

I overheard Alastair and several nobles making attack plans, she moaned softly, against Scotland.

Who ordered it?

The king, she whispered, feeling his tender kisses travel back up to her neck, A coach will come through Shooter’s Pass en route to Ellesbrooke Castle this evening.

Tell me more, lover, he groaned, feeling her hand snake up his thigh.

What would you like to know? she asked.

How many soldiers will be accompanying it? Quentin asked as the material of his trousers draw taut.

I don’t know, she groaned, Methinks it won’t be heavily guarded.

That makes no sense, Katherine. He pulled away. I grow weary of your little games.

This is no game, Lord Ellesbrooke, she said, looking straight into his eyes, I speak the truth as I’ve heard it myself.

Drivel, he pulled her close and kissed her hard, Enough of this idle talk.

He watched her loosen her garters sending her hose crumpling to her ankles. Perfect, he thought, reclining on the back seat. Nothing was better than having sex in dangerous places. She impaled herself on his hard cock, pulling him closer with each forceful stroke. A loud gasp escaped her lips.

Believe what you will, Ellesbrooke, she moaned, moving her hips back and forth, but if word gets out of what they plan to do, it will bring about another Civil War.

I don’t doubt that, he groaned.

Don’t stop, she cried out, I beg you.

Ride me, Katherine, he commanded, Ride me before the others come back.

As you wish, my lord, Katherine purred, grinding harder.

The carriage swayed to and fro. If his partners were nearby, then they could easily guess what was happening. Quentin didn’t care. A slap on the back and a few hearty laughs were in store once it was over. He was one lucky bloke. While the others were terrorizing a poor coachman, he was getting the ride of his life.

He grabbed her waist and pumped harder sensing her passion rise. She was coming closer to climax, he thought, feeling the slickness inside her. With one more thrust, he felt her body spasm washing his sex with her essence. Faster. Deeper. Two more strokes sent him spiraling over the edge, spilling his seed inside her womb.

Katherine collapsing against his chest and whispered, That was wonderful, darling.

It was indeed, he replied softly, thumbing a few tresses away from her damp face.

After tonight, all of our problems will be solved, she said confidently.

Quentin sighed heavily as she dismounted. He cleared his throat and watched her fingers lace the ribbons of her garter. Katherine, you were jesting about the king’s gold, were you not?

I couldn’t be more serious, she said, adjusting the bodice around her torso, Be at your post at dusk and you’ll see I speak the truth.

This was just one of her many games, Quentin said to himself. There was no hope in changing her. If she had an ounce of honesty in her, he would gladly take her for his own. But a man could never rely on Katherine Prescott. To do so would leave him penniless or worse—dead.

What are you scheming, Katherine?

I am not scheming anything, she replied, At least not this time. I do have my reasons, but they’re too painful to discuss.

How naïve do you think I am? Quentin laughed, I may have fallen for your tricks in the past, but losing everything to your stepbrother has taught me well.

Trust me, Quentin, I know what I’m talking about, she sniffed. "This is no ruse. I've seen the horrible things that go on in that castle. Yet, I do what I must in order to survive.

Why did you not leave when I asked you to? he asked, I gave you a chance to escape a long time ago, but you didn’t take it.

I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly, love. Believe me, I regret it.

Perhaps you haven’t regretted it as much as you say.

She glared at him with tears welling in her eyes, I am truly sorry for what happened, Quentin. I’ve asked God to forgive me every day for my part in helping Alastair steal your inheritance. The guilt has torn me apart.

I’m sure it has, he scoffed, You have plenty of food to eat, a warm bed to sleep in and money to spend. I don’t believe you, Katherine. You don’t seem riddled with guilt wearing my mother’s rings.

That’s not fair, she cried, It wasn’t easy smuggling them out from Alastair’s watchful eye. Oh, Quentin, I wish I could take away the pain, but I cannot. I can only continue to beg for your forgiveness. I implore you…

That’s enough, Katherine, he stated flatly, I can’t stand your groveling.

An awkward silence blanketed the carriage. Tension mounted between them. Quentin watched her eyes drop to the floor. Finally, she looked at him in desperation.

Things have gotten worse inside Ellesbrooke Castle, unspeakable things that nightmares are made of. I’m begging for your help.

Where is the proof?

I’ve risked my life by coming here. I’ve brought you some of your family fortune to prove in good faith that what I say is true.

I’ve heard this before, Katherine, he sighed and crossed his arms. What say you to that?

Please listen to me, she pleaded, I implore you.

For once in your life, I wish you’d show one shred of honesty.

I am. I have changed, Quentin. I can no longer face Alastair’s wrath.

Wrath? Ellesbrooke watched fear streak across her face.

If you ever thought anything of me…

How dare you question my feelings, my lady, he started, wondering what was going on in her head, You know very well how much I loved you. I gave up everything for you and look where it’s gotten me.

I was tricked. We both were, she explained, I thought you understood that.

Your actions sharply contradict your words, Katherine.

I wish things had turned out differently.

This better not be another one of your ploys.

I swear it on my life. She looked at him sheepishly and pulled up her skirts.

What are you doing? he asked as she turned her back to him.

This is no hoax, love, she replied, exposing her naked haunch.

Ellesbrooke stared in horror at the wound branding her hip. Swollen and bruised, the welt looked as if it had been burned into her flesh.

What is this? he asked, horrified at the sight.

Alastair’s madness knows no bounds, she declared, choking on tears, This is the price I paid for mentioning your name.

He did this to you? he asked, touching the broken flesh, watching her flinch, Because of me?

She shook her head and whimpered, Yes.

He watched her lip quiver nervously. A single tear trickled down her cheek. She looked defeated, broken and frail. What was going on? This was not the high-strung Katherine he knew. Years ago, she wouldn’t have dared to beg for help. Her pride prevented any such sign of weakness. Maybe she had changed after all this time.

He could have been thrilled knowing she was finally getting what she deserved, however, the image of her suffering from this abuse sickened him. No man should raise a hand against a woman, he thought, staring at her wound. Her actions did not justify that kind of torture. Anger bubbled up inside of him setting his emotions aflame.

I’ll kill him! Quentin rose from his seat ready to draw blood.

No! she exclaimed, putting her hand on his chest, That’s not the way, love. The king’s gold can give you the chance to reclaim Ellesbrooke Castle. Just think of it, Quentin, you can regain everything you’ve lost by carrying out one last heist.

What? he asked, You are more concerned about my problems instead of seeking revenge for yourself? This is quite a surprise.

I’ve grown up a lot since we parted, love. It has taken me months to realize what my actions have cost you. I’ve endured so many horrible things. You have no idea. I don’t blame you for doubting me, Quentin. At one time, I could only offer you an apology. Now I offer you a chance to change your future. And I can finally redeem myself.

Ellesbrooke looked at her noting the deep sadness in her eyes. The solemn look on her face seemed sincere; however, he couldn’t help but remain skeptical. He turned to her and asked,

And what’s in it for you, my lady?

My freedom.

Anything else? Riches perhaps?

You, Quentin, she said, leaning closer to him, You’re the one I’ve always wanted. I haven’t made the wisest decisions in the past, but I want to prove to you that I’ve changed.

Her voice shook. Regret flooded her eyes. She was trying to hold it together, Quentin thought, but her pain was evident. His conscience tugged at his heart—her sincerity was genuine. She had been full of tricks and lies in the past, but he felt she was telling the truth this time. Of course, she had never sported such a horrible bruise like the one on her hip before. It was a shame she had to endure such torture to make her realize the error of her ways.

I’ll help you get away from Prescott on one condition.

What is it?

You need to be completely honest with me. Tell me everything.

Agreed, she said, meeting his gaze, There’s talk about waging war against Scotland and King Charles plans to gather enough allies to back the campaign. I overheard Prescott volunteer to hide the gold until the king sends word otherwise. One evening when he was away, I rummaged through Alastair’s study and found a letter outlining the plan. From what it stated, the carriage will travel through Shooter’s Pass tonight. It’ll be packed with more gold than what you can imagine.

Really, he said skeptically, You still have given me no proof. Why should I believe you? You’re going to have to show me, Katherine.

She reached down in her bag and handed him a piece of parchment. Here’s the letter Alastair received a week ago. King Charles wrote it. Look, Quentin. It carries his seal.

He reached out, took the parchment and began to unfold it. Scanning each paragraph carefully, he noted that everything she had told him was validated—even the signature appeared to be authentic. Quentin rubbed his forefinger across the broken seal noticing the embossed wax. It appeared genuine.

For once in your life, Katherine, you may be telling the truth, he said, There won’t be a campaign if the gold is stolen.

Exactly, she said anxiously. No gold, no war.

It’ll be very dangerous.

You’ve gotten out of tighter spots than this.

Alastair’s men will be hot on our trail before we could flee into the countryside.

The Ellesbrooke Bandit will find a way to outwit and outlast him. She smiled, You always have.

This would be the perfect opportunity to avenge his family. With a carriage filled with gold, Quentin could hire his own army and storm Ellesbrooke Castle. He could overthrow Prescott and restore his inheritance. His family name