“Who planned it? Slade?” Harlow probed.
“I am not sure. Although Meg spotted him here, Slade’s involvement makes little sense. We will talk on the way. We must find her, and quickly. Wait!” He caught the attention of the second footman. “Send for the magistrate.”
“Yes, my lord.” The footman left immediately.
Max had just about saddled Willow when he heard groans coming from the back of the stable. He rushed through the corridor of the barn, pushing open the empty stalls, eventually finding the source of the noise. Percy lay gagged and trussed up in the corner of a stall. Harlow helped untie him.
“My lord, there were two men. I heard talking behind the barn, and when I investigated, they hit me from behind. They were planning to take Lady Tipton. I heard them.”
“Did you hear anything else? Think, man!” Max nearly shouted.
Percy nodded. “Yes, my lord, they spoke of taking her to the old man. They did not give a name. ’Tis all I remember before waking strung up like this.”
“Saddle your horse, Harlow. I will be back in a minute. I need my gun and will dispatch a footman to move Percy inside. Perth left to check on another patient this morning but should be here soon. The fresh snow will make it easy as long as we can follow it before others ride over them.”
Within a few short minutes, the two men and their horses left the estate in pursuit of the mysterious black carriage.
* * *
A tall, dark man wearing a worn black plaid woolen coat edged out from behind a thorny icy brush. He watched the two men clear the estate, then he and his borrowed horse rode at breakneck speed across Hambright, staying off the road but heading in the same direction.
Chapter 12
The gag tasted foul. Maggie felt like the biggest fool. Why had she not listened to Max when he had asked her to stay put and wait? Worry kicked in. Shep had taken off after them until she did not hear him anymore. A lump formed in her throat and tears rolled down her face. Her little dog had broken ribs. No way should he have been running after her. This was all her fault, and she may lose her pet because of her obstinance. She should have listened to Max and gone to Harlow’s estate. Remorse filled her heart.
Tossed and trussed up like a bale of hay, she bounced on the bottom of the carriage. She felt a warm wet substance running down her face. The cut Dr. Perth had stitched must have popped open when she was tossed inside.
Maggie tried to fight, kicking and punching at them, but it was useless. The two men grabbed her as she turned the corner of the stable, saying nothing. They gagged her before she could scream for help. One thrust a filthy rag smelling of unimaginable odors into her mouth and secured it around her head. She could not bite through it and fought back bile, fearing she would die gagging on her own vomit. Who would do this? She thought of Slade. It made no sense. He was always alone when she saw him.
Suddenly, she smelled her mother’s rose scent and opened her eyes, unable to comprehend where it was coming from.
Daughter, you will get out of this. Use your wits. It was her mother’s voice. Help is coming, but you will have to help them.
At the sound of her mother’s voice, Maggie looked up, catching the attention of the man riding in the carriage. “Ah. I see yer back with us. I knew ye were faking.” He smacked his lips. “’Tis a shame the old man said not to ’arm ye. I’d like a chance with ye.” He reached down and caressed her breasts with his fingerless gloves, licking his lips.
Old man…her uncle?
Mother, please do not leave me. “Mm-mm….” She gagged and tried to roll her body away from him. Her eyes widened when a warming brick appeared above his head, then crashed upon his skull, knocking the filthy man against the window. The brick landed on the seat. Maggie scooted as far away as possible in case his body slumped to the floor, fearing it would cover her.
I am with you, daughter. Again, the faint smell of roses surrounded her, giving her focus.
Her mother had knocked the man out. At least, she thought her mother had done it. Could she be dreaming all of this?
Surely not, her body argued. The coach rumbled off the road onto a drive, jolting her head against the base of a seat repeatedly. Where were they going? Finally, it stopped. The door opened, and another man began cursing the unconscious one. “Just like you to sleep on the job. Git yerself up and help me!”
The driver shoved the man slumped in the seat, causing his unconscious body to pitch forward. He covered Maggie, as she had feared. “Ye good fer nothing!” He heaved the man out of the carriage and onto the ground, then pulled a pillowcase from his pocket, covering her head and most of her body. “Sorry, yer highness! The old man wants to surprise ye.” She heard the man spit on the ground. “I’ll not be splitting this booty with ye, Tad.” She heard him kick the man.
With a grunt of exertion, the driver trussed Maggie over his shoulders and carried her into a house. She felt like she knew the house from the smells and the turns he was making. It was Wyndham. Why here?
“Set her there.” She recognized her uncle’s voice. “And take off that sheet. She will see me soon enough.”
He ripped the pillowcase off at the same time her body landed with a thud on the floor of her father’s office. She tried to roll back to face him, still disbelieving her uncle had arranged her kidnapping.
“Leave the gag. I will remove it when she’s ready to tell me what I want to know.”
“And my coin, milord?”
Grumbling, Silas reached into his waistcoat and tossed a small sack at the man, who grabbed it and scurried from the room.
“A waste of humanity,” he muttered, leaning down into her face. His breath was foul and smelled of cigars and alcohol. “You have no value to me. If things had gone as planned, you would have died with your family. But no, you made things difficult.” He cackled. “I have come for my rightful property. And I thank you for helping me take care of your wastrel of a husband. Now, I want what is rightfully mine.” Her uncle jerked the gag from her mouth.
“You killed my husband and my family. Nothing in this house is yours!” she shouted, spitting to get the foul taste out of her mouth.
He arched his brows and malevolence filled his face. “Yes, but only you think that. I have made sure they suspected you of the dreadful murder of your loving husband. He landed at my feet, and I only had to slice his disagreeable throat. It was my pleasure.” He cackled, his tone sardonic.
“Step away from her, Father.” Slade stepped from the dark hallway into the room. His voice came from low in his throat.
Maggie struggled to see. She recognized Slade, not believing what she was hearing.
“You think to save her? No. You will heed me,” Silas shouted. “I am getting rid of the chit, and now that I think about it, I might as well rid myself of you. You have outlived your usefulness to me, son.” Emphasizing the last word, his voice dripped venom.
Father and son. It was exactly as Max had described.
Her uncle charged Slade. Silas surprised Slade with his assault. The fight escalated to fists, with the two circling each other until the old man pulled out his knife, poised to kill his own son.
“It is a shame to say goodbye to you, Nash. You were…very helpful to me. You have become weak and disloyal. Both are qualities I find repulsive.”
“I will not let you kill her! She is all the family I have.”
“You have traded me for her, you ungrateful urchin.” Her uncle’s attention turned to her. He kicked at her. “I tried to rid myself of you twice. This time I will not fail. This house will be mine!”
Slade reached into his boot and pulled out a jewel-encrusted knife. He lunged, but her uncle parried and nicked his arm, sending blood spewing from the wound.
Maggie saw the movement at the door almost too late. She craned her neck in time to see Max and Harlow. Max was slipping up behind Slade, his gun drawn.
“No! Not Slade. He is trying to help me!” she yelled. It was so cold in the room, s
he could see her own breath. “Uncle Silas only inherits if I am dead.”
“She will not be dying by your or anyone else’s hand. Step away from her.” Max demanded in a dangerous voice.
“You will watch her die after I kill this one.” He waved his knife at Slade. “No one will take what is owed to me.” The viscount’s eyes were wild and glazed.
Everything happened so fast. Her uncle lunged at Slade, his knife poised to kill him. Max’s gun went off, and her uncle fell, grabbing his knee and screaming.
Slade dropped his knife and backed away.
“I would never hurt her. You do not understand,” he explained, holding his hands over his head and looking at Maggie. “If I had wanted to hurt you, Lady Tipton, I had plenty of opportunity. I had you in my sights for weeks. I knew my father’s plan. I tried to keep you safe from him.” He took a trembling breath. “You are all the family I have left. Your parents were always kind to me. They clothed me, gave me money for food, and sheltered me, and even tried to help me mum when she was sick.” He looked down at his father, who was trying to grab his knife and spit on him. “They cared and tried to help me. But never anything but vitriol came from you. I was your bastard, but you never so much as gave me a kind word. Nothing I did made a difference to you.” Slade’s tone was weary, pained. He kicked his father’s knife away and dropped to his haunches, defeated.
Harlow walked over and picked up both knives, holding his gun on both men. “I will watch this one.” He glared at the viscount. “It is just a leg wound. We will make sure he can stand and hang.”
“He killed my family,” Maggie wept, her face in her hands.
My dear, they will punish Silas for his crimes. A gentle pressure touched her cheek, caressing her chin. I never left you. I did what I could to help you. Your father would be proud of his beautiful daughter. Her mother’s voice spoke quietly, and everyone stopped what they were doing and looked around.
* * *
“My mother was right. Your mother stayed behind,” Max said in astonishment. He realized his mouth was hanging open. He closed it and smirked.
The sound of heavy boots running echoed through the hall as Nizal and another investigator burst into the room, both heaving and puffing from their exertion in the cold weather. “We will handle this, your lordships, my lady.” Nizal spoke through puffs of breath. He glanced around the room. “You seem to have things under control. The man outside appears to have died by brick.” Nizal looked at Maggie.
“You might explain how you managed that while tied up,” the second one said, amused.
“I did not…” Maggie stopped mid-sentence and looked up at Max.
“Her mother stepped in. I take help where offered.” Max smiled and nodded, to the astonishment of the men standing. “Keep your hands up,” Max barked at Slade. “We will sort this out with the magistrate.” He holstered his gun in his coat. Squatting down, Max released Maggie’s bindings with her uncle’s knife. He picked her up and held her close to his heart. “We should get home. Perth should be there. Shep and Percy were both injured.” He spoke in a consoling tone, as he walked outside the house, carrying her.
“Shep! Is he all right?” Maggie gripped his arm.
“I think he will be sore. Unless I miss my guess, he re-injured his ribs in the chase. I am never letting either of you from my sight again.” Max nuzzled her neck. “Oh, wait. They hurt you.” He pulled a clean handkerchief from his coat and held it to her head.
“You promise to never let me out of your sight?” Maggie wrapped her hands around his neck.
“Never. Not even for the ride home.” He placed her on the saddle in front of him as Harlow gathered the reins of Slade’s borrowed horse, securing its tether to his own mount.
“I will stay back and make sure the inspector does not need any help with those two.” Harlow shook his head in amusement. “It will give you privacy.”
Before leaving, Maggie turned to see a dark-haired woman in a white dress standing at the door, waving at her. She waved back. Both men turned when she lifted her hand.
“What are you smiling about, Maggie?” Harlow asked.
“Your mother,” Max said in a whoosh of breath.
“I think she is leaving now to join Father and Nathan.” Maggie leaned her head against his chest. “I think she will finally rest in peace.” Max nudged his horse, and they began to move towards Hambright.
“What about us?” Max prodded, his breath against her hair.
“I am not sure what you are thinking, but we are open to suggestions.”
“We?” he teased, ruffling his free hand through her hair playfully. He already knew the answer but wanted her to say it.
“Shep and me. We come as a package deal. I could never leave my dog behind.” She smiled as he caressed her cheek.
“Would you become my countess? It is the wish of my heart. This time I will make sure you do not leave me behind.” He leaned in and laughed against her hair. “Please say you will and make me the happiest of men.”
“I have dreamed of my life with you, even when it was painfully clear I would never have one. I would never have willingly left the biggest part of my heart behind. Yes, I will marry you!” She leaned into his warmth and looked into his eyes.
His lips teased, then locked on hers. This was not the place he had imagined gaining the woman of his dreams. Willow neighed playfully and slowed her speed. Did all animals champion this woman? “I think we should hurry with this marriage. My body demands more of you, and I fear we could become scandalous if I never let you out of my bed,” he teased.
Meg reached her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “My lord, that could be quite scandalous.” Her eyes glittered with mischief. “For now, I would like to drink my fill of your wonderful kisses.” A smile flickered on her lips.
Her invitation was all he needed.
Epilogue
Three months later
Maggie sat on her favorite window seat and enjoyed the sunshine warming away the last vestiges of winter. The large red velvet seat cushion felt more like a small bed—soft, plush, and with the sunshine, warm. She set down her latest copy of The Women’s Monthly Museum and pulled her knees to her chin. Staring out the window in Max’s library provided the best view of the garden outside. The gardener had recently planted the white rose bushes he had uprooted from her family’s property in the sunniest corner of the garden. They were showing signs of blooms already. She smiled, thinking her mother would approve. She had never stopped missing her family, particularly her mother. Thinking her mother watched over her comforted her. She hoped to feel her mother’s presence that moment when she became a mother herself.
Maggie rested her hands on her stomach, pleased she barely showed. Her maid, Anna knew. To describe her as inquisitive was an understatement. Anna boldly asked about her missing courses, and Maggie swore her to secrecy. Secrecy. She laughed at the thought. That surely meant Gertie knew, which meant Harriett also knew. But to their credit, everyone acted oblivious to her increasing.
After losing Lilly, she wanted to be sure of this child’s health before announcing her pregnancy to anyone. Max knew her body well, and she imagined that he suspected, but she had kept the confirmation of it to herself. She reddened, thinking of his lovemaking; never had she imagined the act would be so satisfying, and she never tired of seeing all of him.
After her first marriage—which she preferred to think of as bondage—she was both anxious and frightened of their joining. His patience won her body over, leaving her continually craving his touch.
Lady Worsley and Angela orchestrated the wedding of her dreams, and Max stole her off to a friend’s castle in Scotland for a short honeymoon. They needed the time to unwind and heal—and heal they did. She blushed to the roots of her hair.
A knock at the door of the library pulled her from her musings. “Lady Worsley, you have a visitor.” Cabot stood erect. She bit her bottom lip, desperate to hold back her smile. Shep stoo
d there beside him. Since the wedding, she had learned that she had to share her little friend with several in the household. Cabot frequently tossed a ball with Shep when he thought no one saw. He threw it up and down the hall to Shep’s delight. The dog frequently followed Cabot, hoping for a game.
“It is Mr. Nizal.” He held out the salver with Nizal’s card.
Maggie nodded. “Please send him in.” Perhaps it was the regent’s decision regarding her uncle. “Please have tea brought in for us.”
“Yes, my lady.” The retainer and his furry companion stepped from the doorway as Mr. Nizal entered.
“Your ladyship. Thank you for seeing me. I have news. I was hoping to catch Lord Worsley too.”
“You may be in luck, Mr. Nizal. He and Lord Harlow have just returned. I saw them head to the stables shortly before you arrived. Let me warm you up with a cup of tea while we wait?”
“Thank you, my lady. I enjoy a good cup of tea.” The short man sat on the chair nearest him, carefully maintaining his seat on the cushion’s edge to allow his legs to touch the ground.
Maggie tried not to notice. A footman arrived with the tea service, and she poured them each a cup. “Sugar?” She held the sugar tongs, prepared to sweeten his cup.
“Thank you. Yes.” He picked up a scone from the tray and stuffed it into his mouth, forcing her to busy herself with her own cup.
The door opened, and Max and Harlow entered. “Nizal, Cabot informed us you were here. We are eager for news.”
Maggie silently inquired about tea, but both men waved it off and moved toward the fireplace on the opposite wall for warmth.
“They sentenced Viscount Winters to hang. The evidence from the deaths of your family, Lady Worsley, and his deliberate killing of your late husband countered any help his recent title could have afforded him. I heard the regent was not in his favor, having heard other stories of his mischief,” the inspector reported laconically. He regarded Maggie. “I apologize for my bluntness, my lady.”
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