He didn’t need to see them to know they’d be a rough sort. The kind who would chase down anyone for coin, be it criminal or an innocent like Grace. They wouldn’t use kind methods either. So he had to make sure they did not lay a finger on her.
Holding his breath, he led the way to the rear of the building, checking behind them sporadically. He stopped at the rear door and inched it open with his shoulder. Not even a stable hand, luckily. He shoved open the door and nodded his head for Grace to follow. They stumbled out into the muddy courtyard. Several new horses were in the stalls—strong-looking beasts with fine coats. Not the sort to belong to just any man. Whoever it was tracking them, they had funds.
That did not make Nash feel any better.
Voices came from the inn and his gut twisted. “Hide, quick,” he hissed, urging Grace to duck down behind an empty stall door. He followed her, crouching in the stale straw. Her eyes were wide, her skin pale. He heard her rapid, unsteady breaths. Nash pressed a finger to his lips as the voices grew closer.
“Could have been them,” murmured a man.
“Could have been anyone. What if the boy was wrong?”
“It is them. I know it,” said a third man, his voice deep but slightly croaky, as though he were older than the others.
Beside him, Grace stiffened.
“Search the stables. They said the pair had eaten their morning meal here. They cannot have gone far,” ordered the older man, with a sigh. “Let’s hope this little bitch is worth all this effort.”
Grace released a whimper and Claude scuffled in his basket in response to his mistresses’ distress. Nash drew out his gun. It might not be ready to fire but it looked threatening enough. If he could hold them off for long enough, he’d tell Grace to run. Squelching footsteps neared and blood pounded in his ears. He pressed himself tight against the door and put a hand to Grace’s back, urging her to do the same. A shadow cast itself on the straw behind him then retreated. He held his breath for several moments until the footsteps faded and a door slammed shut.
Slowly, he eased up and peered over the door. The stables were empty once more, so he finally let himself breathe.
“They’re gone,” he said, standing.
Grace remained hunched where she was, arms wrapped about herself. Her body trembled.
“All is well,” he assured her, offering a hand. “They have gone inside.”
She shook her head. “It is not well at all.” She glanced up at him. “That was my fiancé.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Grace would have screamed had she had any energy left when the huge, black carriage swept in front of them, blocking their path. She might have even summoned enough energy for it too had Nash not wrapped a comforting arm around her.
“Not to worry,” he said. “That’s our ride.”
Her legs nearly gave out from underneath her. Thank goodness for his support or she might have ended up a crumpled heap on the muddy ground. She squinted at the two men atop the closed carriage, their features shadowed and hidden.
“We were nearly discovered,” Nash explained to them as he pulled open the door and ushered Grace inside.
“Get in,” one of the men said and she realized it was Russell, the man who had brought her to Nash.
She sank gratefully into the plush interior of the carriage, leaning her head back against the wood and closing her eyes. She should have known a man like Worthington would seek his quarry himself. And those men with him...A shiver trailed through her. They had sounded strong and terrifying.
As much as she trusted Nash to do whatever he could to protect her, he could have been hurt had they been discovered—or worse. After all, he was her kidnapper. It would be a hard thing to explain to a judge that she had been willingly taken and in the court’s eyes she was still her uncle’s property.
She opened her eyes and wrapped her arms about herself. Her heart thudded rapidly, echoing in her ears and making her breaths seem loud. That had been far, far too close.
Nash climbed inside and slammed the door shut. He had barely seated himself next to her before they set off at a vicious pace. She might have been scared about travelling so fast on country road in the dark but the farther away they were from the inn—and Mr. Worthington—the better.
“That was too damned close,” Nash muttered, leaning his head back.
She could only nod.
He straightened and twisted toward her. “Forgive me, Grace. I should have been more cautious.” He shook his head and made a disgusted sound. “Lord knows how they tracked us there.”
“You were hardly reckless.” She wrapped her arms tighter about herself when her teeth began to chatter.
He cursed softly and snatched up a blanket from the opposite side of the carriage then tucked it about her.
“I-I am not cold,” she protested.
“No, you are scared, but this will help.” He tucked her up and she sank gratefully into the blanket. He eased an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him. It didn’t take long for her teeth to stop chattering or the knots in her stomach to unwind once pressed against him.
“Mr. Worthington is a determined man,” she commented.
“So it seems,” he said tightly.
She glanced up at him, just able to make out the firm line of his jaw in the dim light of the lanterns from outside. “We are safe from him now.”
“Yes.”
She lifted away a little and pressed a hand to his chest. “Nash, all is well.”
He gave a half-smile. “I’m comforting you, remember?”
“Perhaps we can comfort each other?”
“Perhaps.” He drew her back into him, and she rested her head against his shoulder.
She didn’t recall falling asleep but when she woke, Nash was still awake, and the dull light of morning lit the interior of the vehicle. She peered at the inside of the carriage, flicking her gaze from the luxurious cushions to the silk padded interior. This was no normal carriage. Whoever it belonged to had to be wealthy indeed.
She yawned and stretched. “Where are we?”
“About fifteen miles from the house.”
“I hope it is far enough away.”
“If they track us there, I’d think they were clairvoyant.”
She wrinkled her nose. “There is no such thing as clairvoyant.”
“Many people would disagree with you.”
“I have yet to see any real evidence they exist,” she said firmly.
He chuckled. “I am not going to argue with you over the existence of the paranormal right now, Grace.”
“Well, it would not be an argument. There is no scientific proof for such things.”
He shook his head. “Do you ever switch that mind of yours off?”
She frowned. “Maybe?”
“Well, at least you got some rest.”
“Did you?”
He shrugged. “A little.”
She doubted it. His eyes were a little red and ringed with dark circles. Stubble had appeared on his chin overnight and it reminded her of when she had awoken in his arms and felt the rough texture against her bare skin.
Goodness, what was wrong with her? Picturing such things when they were on the run? Yet she could not help reaching out and smoothing a hand along his jaw, recalling how powerful and wonderful she had felt when he had been spreading kisses across her body as though he were worshipping her.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Thank you for everything, Nash.”
“You forget I am just doing my job.”
“I do not think every man who is paid to do their job does it quite so diligently as you.”
He leaned down and brushed a brief kiss across her lips. “If I was diligent, we would never have been discovered.”
“You cannot blame yourself for that. It is likely they were checking all inns along the road.”
“But how could they even know we took that road?”
“Perhaps Wor
thington has a lot of men searching. It was just a coincidence he happened to be searching ours.”
“I know you do not believe in coincidences any more than I do,” he said tightly.
Grace blew out a breath. She did not. And, unfortunately, that meant they might have a turncoat in their midst.
NASH HAD LITTLE desire to make Grace any more terrified than she already was, but he was struggling to fight his emotions. He forced himself to unfurl his fists. He’d always considered himself a fairly relaxed person. The only time he’d ever lost his temper was when his father had announced he was cutting him off. But seeing her fiancé for himself...he blew out a heated breath. If Grace had not been there, Nash would have pounced on him and beaten him to a pulp, regardless of being outnumbered.
It didn’t help Grace was clever. She understood full well someone had betrayed them. There were so few of them involved that it was hard to fathom who. He trusted everyone who assisted them or else they would never be involved. His only fear was someone had been threatened. He prayed to God Mary was well.
Even when they stopped in the late afternoon, he was unable to rid himself of his anger. He kept glancing at Grace with her wide eyes and fragile form and picturing her marrying Worthington. His jaw hurt from grinding his teeth. He must have given himself away as Guy put a hand to his shoulder and tugged him aside as Russell helped Grace from the carriage.
“She’ll be safe here. We don’t have much longer left and we will stay to help you protect her.”
Nash nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to have Guy and Russell’s muscles, especially as Worthington’s hired brutes were likely no stranger to fighting dirty and wouldn’t think twice about harming Grace so long as they got paid.
Russell lifted the basket holding Claude and eased open the lid. The cat let out a plaintive wail and Russell snapped the basket shut. “That animal gets uglier by the day,” he muttered to Nash.
“He’s not so bad.” Nash took the basket from Russell who shook his head with a grin.
“What are we doing now?” Grace asked, smoothing hands down her crumpled gown.
“We’ll walk to the house. It’s a few miles but an easy enough walk,” Nash explained.
“And we’ll take the carriage to an inn. Keep it out of sight and ensure there are no tracks to the house,” said Guy.
Her eyes widened. “You do not think they could follow our tracks, do you?”
“Not at all.” Russell climbed back into the driver’s seat. “But we like to be cautious.”
“We’ll be back after dark,” Guy said to Nash.
Grace watched the carriage leave and she turned to him, mouth open. “I just realized...”
“Yes?”
“That’s the Earl of Henleigh’s carriage.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I recognized the crest from a book of lineage.”
“It is indeed,” Nash said with a smile.
“He’s the one behind this?”
Nash simply grinned.
“Oh Lord, one of them was the earl? Or do not tell me you stole it from the earl?” She put hands to her cheeks. “No, you’re not the earl, are you?”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “I am no earl. But Guy is Lord Guy Huntingdon, Earl of Henleigh. He’s the one that started The Kidnap Club.” He nodded along the path that wove along the hillside. “Come, we had better get moving.”
“I cannot believe I didn’t realize.”
“Guy doesn’t stand upon ceremony much so I wouldn’t worry.”
“How exactly did he start this?” she asked, falling in step beside him.
Nash peered out over the hills. There was no sign of the cottage yet, but he’d been forced to memorize this path just in case and once they were over the next hill, it would be ahead of them—a white painted thing nestled just by a large lake.
“Guy’s cousin was in a terrible marriage. Her husband beat her to within an inch of her life and he refused to give her up in any way, shape or form. So Guy helped her escape to America but first she was ‘kidnapped’ and ransomed so the husband would not try to chase her down. She’s settled happily in America with her little girl now and the husband drank himself to death eventually.”
“Goodness.”
“This was before I was involved but the cousin told another woman of what Guy had done for her and it sort of spread from there. That’s when he brought us on board.”
“Why did you join?”
“I needed the money mostly and it seemed an interesting way to stay occupied. I’ve known Guy since our college years, and he knew I had the house and the time to look after women under our care.”
“It must feel nice to help women in need.”
He paused. It had always been about the money for him. At least he thought it had been. Of course he cared about the women he looked after—he hoped for the best for them and was glad they could escape whatever it was they needed to. But he had never thought of it as anything more than a paid job.
Until kidnapping Grace.
Until seeing the bastard of a man she could have been married to. Now he wished he could help more women escape.
“I think the three of you are very brave,” she declared.
He shook his head. “Bravery has little to do with it. In truth, I have never thought of it as a very dangerous occupation. Russell takes most of the physical risk and Guy could lose the trust of every single one of his peers if it was found he was helping wives escape.”
“They are your peers too, are they not?”
“Not so much these days. Not when one does not have coin. I doubt I pass the thought of a single one of them.”
She smiled and took his hand. “Well, that is most certainly their loss.”
Nash wasn’t so sure.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Bloody hell, who thought it was a good idea to let this cottage?” Russell shoved a hand through his damp hair and ran it over his face, swiping away the raindrops.
Guy hauled off his soaking wet coat and draped it over the chair in front of the fire and lifted a brow. “You know full well it was mine.”
“Couldn’t you have found somewhere that did not involve traipsing miles in the dark?” Russell muttered.
Nash poured brandy into three glasses and offered it out. The weather had taken a nasty turn just after he and Grace had arrived at the house. Thankfully there was plenty of dry wood in the stores and he was able to get several fires going.
Guy sank onto a chair. “That was the whole point in having this place,” he pointed out. “It is in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’m certain there are places in the middle of nowhere with decent paths.”
Nash glanced at Russell’s mud caked boots as he tugged them off and set them in front of the fire. “I don’t suppose I need to ask if you were followed.”
“Only an idiot would follow us,” Russell grumbled.
“Or someone very determined,” Nash reminded them.
He waited until Russell was seated in front of the fire and hauled up a wooden chair to sit beside both men. He cradled the brandy in one hand, swirled the liquid about the glass, and watched it coat the inside.
“You needn’t worry,” Guy said. “We were cautious, and no one saw us leave the inn. We paid the innkeeper generously to keep the carriage well-hidden too.”
“This is the first time we have ever needed to use this house,” Nash said. “We were arrogant enough to believe we were safe at my house. I do not want to be so arrogant as to believe it again.”
Russell eyed Nash. “Since when were you so serious?”
“Since Grace nearly got snatched out from under my nose.”
Russell made a noise. “Like you would let that happen.”
“It was too close for my liking.” Nash threw back the glass of brandy.
“Fine job I made sure we were fully stocked,” Guy said, nodding to the empty glass.
Nash nodded. “We have enough firewood to keep us warm until we need
to leave, by the looks of it.”
“And Russell and I brought some food supplies.” Guy pointed at the ceiling. “I take it Miss Beaumont is resting.”
“She did well but I think the shock of it all has taken its toll. She fell asleep almost instantly.”
“We should keep watch,” Russell suggested. “Won’t hurt to be cautious.”
“I’ll take first watch,” Nash volunteered.
Guy shook his head. “You’ll rest too.”
“You two walked farther than I did, and I’d wager you were travelling longer than me too.”
Russell shared a look with Guy. “But you have been watching over her for some time. And you look like death.”
Nash straightened in his chair. Every part of him ached as though he had just taken a beating at fencing and his eyes were gritty, his mouth dry. However, he couldn’t picture himself being able to close his eyes and rest, not when Grace’s fiancé was still out there, hunting them. “I look a darn sight better than you do, my friend.”
“I don’t think you’ve had the luxury of a mirror or else you would not be saying that,” Russell scoffed.
“I’ll take first watch,” Guy snapped. “You can both get some rest.”
“I don’t need rest,” Nash protested.
“I want both of you in full health and you would want that too if you desire to keep that woman safe.” Guy leaned forward and peered into the fire. “We came too close today to all of this unravelling. If it comes out that we have been aiding other women, they could all end up in danger.”
“Not to mention, I’d look terrible with a noose around my neck,” muttered Nash.
Russell shook his head. “You two would likely be saved from the noose by way of your rich blood.”
Nash snorted. “I am certain my family wouldn’t give two hoots. But I don’t much fancy finding out.”
“After this is over, we go quiet for a while, and we rethink how we do this.” Guy shook his head. “We must have lost someone’s loyalty.”
Capturing the Bride (The Kidnap Club Book 1) Page 14
