Masked Intentions [Unmasking Prometheus] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Diana Bold

  “How does he know it’s you?” Morgan demanded grimly, taking the other gun and secreting it away.

  “I don’t know,” Adrian admitted, feeling sick. “But I think he’s been on to me for a while now. The last few times I’ve gone to one of his establishments, they’ve been waiting for me.”

  Morgan shook his head grimly, obviously disgusted with him, but too worried about Anne to waste the energy of berating him any further. “Let’s go get Lucien. Then you can tell us where we go next.”

  Adrian spread his hands in dismay. “That’s just it, Morgan. I don’t have the faintest bloody idea.”

  * * * *

  Vanessa didn’t know how long they bounced along in the coach. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. Time ceased to exist as the terror and regrets fought for precedence in her brain.

  These men were going to kill her, and she felt as though she’d just started to live. All her dreams of a future with Adrian had vanished like smoke in the wind, and she felt as though it was all her fault for daring to reach so high. She’d blackmailed him into marrying her, and now she wasn’t even going to have the chance to make it up to him.

  At last the coach rumbled to a stop, and the door opened. One of the men appeared in the opening, and he was even more fearsome looking than the one who’d ridden with them in the coach.

  “Get up,” he snarled, roughly grabbing Vanessa’s shoulders and wrenching her out of the vehicle. She cried out in pain as her bound arms protested the strain, but then she was on her feet outside. She blinked against the glare of the sun, trying to figure out where they were. Near the river, she decided, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

  “In here,” the man demanded, hustling her into a building before she had a chance to see more than a dingy street full of nondescript warehouses. She thought about screaming, but she hadn’t seen anyone, and she feared the consequences wouldn’t be worth it on the slim chance that someone might hear her and care enough to come investigate.

  Once inside the building, the two men led Vanessa and Anne through a labyrinth of corridors to a door at the top of a set of rickety stairs that led down to some sort of cellar. This close to the river, it was certain to be dank and wet.

  Anne began shaking her head wildly as the man tried to shove her through the opening. “No,” she cried. “Just let us go. Our husbands will pay whatever you want. Don’t make us go down there.”

  “Shut up, you crazy bitch,” the man holding Anne snapped, forcing her forward.

  Anne clung to the doorframe, refusing to go through. With a snarl, the man backhanded her across the face. When she cried out and let go of the door to press her hands to her bruised cheek, he shoved her mightily, sending her flying down the stairs.

  “Oh my God,” Vanessa cried, as Anne’s scream was abruptly cut off with a loud thump. “She’s with child, you bastard! Let me go to her!”

  The man who’d been holding her laughed and released her, and she hurried down the stairs, finding Anne crumpled in a heap at the bottom. Her blonde hair was stained with blood, and Vanessa was sobbing by the time she reached her friend’s side.

  “We need a doctor!” she cried, but the men simply shut the door, and she heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in a lock.

  Kneeling beside Anne, Vanessa carefully felt her throat for some sign of life.

  There! Weak, but she was still alive.

  Vanessa collapsed beside her, pulling Anne’s head carefully into her lap, cradling her and stroking her brow. “Come on, Anne,” she whispered. “Wake up. Please wake up!”

  Anne moaned a little, but didn’t otherwise respond. Vanessa rubbed the tears from her eyes, trying to focus. It wouldn’t do any good to cry. Somehow, she had to get herself and Anne out of this place. The first step was for Anne to regain consciousness, as she couldn’t very well carry her.

  She fumbled through her reticule, surprised they’d let her keep it. At last, she found what she was looking for, a vial of smelling salts. She wasn’t one to faint, but Anne had convinced her to buy them, saying every well-bred woman had them.

  She opened it and held the pungent scent under Anne’s nose, but Anne still didn’t move.

  Vanessa smoothed Anne’s hair back, horrified to see a huge lump forming where she’d hit her head. The wound was still bleeding profusely, so she pressed a corner of her skirts against it, trying to staunch the flow.

  “Please, Anne,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

  She leaned back against the wall, cradling her friend’s head in her lap, fearing that not only was Anne going to die, but she might soon share her fate. She thought of Gabriel, her little boy, who would be left without a mother once again. Everything had been falling into place, and she couldn’t believe it was going to end this way. The bastards who’d taken them obviously didn’t care whether they lived or died.

  A bit of hope blossomed in her chest as she thought of Adrian. He’d be looking for her by now, she was certain. But the hope shriveled quickly. How on earth would he ever find them?

  * * * *

  Adrian and Morgan arrived at Lucien’s townhouse, jumping off their mounts and heading quickly for the door. They instructed the butler to have someone tend to the animals while they burst into the house.

  “Luke?” Morgan cried, his voice echoing in the vast hall. “Luke, we need you!”

  Lucien appeared at the top of the landing, his brow wrinkled in concern. “What is it? What’s going on?” he asked, striding quickly down the stairs.

  “Roger!” Morgan replied, his voice cracking with fear and fury. “He’s taken Anne and Vanessa in retribution for Prometheus.”

  Adrian remained silent as Lucien turned to meet his gaze. He and Morgan hadn’t spoken at all on the way over. His twin had been absolutely right to say that this was his fault, and his own fear and a crippling guilt swallowed him, reverting him to that silent boy he’d once been.

  Apparently realizing Adrian was not in a place to add anything, Lucien turned back to Morgan. “What happened, exactly? Are you certain Roger is to blame?”

  As Morgan recounted the footman’s story, Adrian strode to his brother’s study, where he knew he’d find an arsenal of weapons. He opted for a pistol and quickly loaded it as his brothers followed him into the room.

  “What are you planning?” Morgan snapped. “You can’t simply shoot him. We have to find our wives first.”

  At last, Adrian found his voice. “I don’t intend to shoot him until after we find the girls.”

  Silence reigned for a moment, before Lucien laughed uneasily. “You don’t mean that. You need to calm down and think this through, brother. I won’t have you hanged because of that bastard.”

  “Don’t you see?” Adrian asked, his voice emotionless even though he felt as though the chaos inside him was literally ripping him apart. “I can’t live without her, Luke. If he’s hurt her…I would gladly hang for the chance to kill him.”

  Morgan came up beside him and reached for a weapon himself. “Adrian is right. It’s time to make Roger pay for all the pain he’s caused. I should have done it back then.”

  Adrian threw Morgan a surprised glance askance. He’d always thought it had been Lucien who threw Winters off the tower not long after they’d invented Prometheus. Prometheus’s first blood-red cape had been clenched in their stepfather’s dead hand. No one else had known where the material had come from, and he and his brothers had never spoken of it.

  Had Morgan been the one to end that nightmare? Adrian never would have thought it. He’d been the least abused of the three of them. But perhaps he’d taken Winters’s life to protect Adrian and Lucien.

  Adrian wanted to ask him, but this wasn’t the time or place. “Let’s go talk to Roger,” he said instead. “He has a lot to answer for.”

  * * * *

  Anne suddenly cried out, and the shrill, pain-filled sound startled Vanessa so badly she almost screamed herself. She didn’t know how long
Anne had been unconscious, but she’d almost given up hope she’d ever awake.

  “Anne,” she sobbed, brushing some hair from Anne’s face. “Thank God, you’re awake.”

  Anne just shook her head, her blue eyes hazy with pain. She clutched her stomach. “The baby,” she groaned. “It’s coming.”

  “No!” Vanessa cried, cold terror pooling within her. “You need a doctor. I don’t know what to do.”

  A choked laugh escaped Anne’s lips, though the situation was far from amusing. “They’re not going to let me have a doctor.”

  Vanessa got to her feet and pounded up the narrow stairs, pounding on the door and yelling for help until her voice was shredded. She rattled the doorknob, throwing her body against the solid barrier in an attempt to somehow break out, working herself into a frenzy.

  “Vanessa,” Anne finally screamed, over the racket she was making. “They aren’t listening, or they’re not even there. But I need you. I can’t do this myself.”

  Vanessa sagged against the door, fighting to regain her composure, and then slowly turned to face her sister-in-law. She regretted that she’d let her panic overtake her in such a manner. Anne had enough to deal with. She didn’t need Vanessa’s hysteria on top of everything else.

  Taking a deep breath, she slowly descended the stairs once more and sank to her knees beside Anne. “What do you need me to do?”

  Anne grimaced, shaking her head as she was gripped in a powerful contraction. Vanessa bit her lip, feeling completely inadequate. She knew less than nothing of childbirth. She’d never seen a baby be born, and her city-dwelling childhood ensured she’d never even seen a baby animal come into the world.

  She had only a vague understanding of the mechanics of it all.

  At last the pain seemed to pass a bit, and Anne regained her breath. She hastily gathered her skirt around her waist, baring her bottom half. “I need you to check and see if you can see the baby’s head.” She seemed remarkably calm, and Vanessa could only chalk it up to the fact that she’d already had two children, and therefore knew what to expect.

  Feeling incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, Vanessa unfastened Anne’s undergarments, which were frighteningly wet and bloody.

  “My water broke,” Anne whispered. “It’s too soon. I should have carried the child for several more weeks. It must have been the fall that started it.”

  Vanessa grimaced at the memory of Anne somersaulting down the stairs. Who knew what kind of injuries her friend had suffered? She began praying as she hesitantly looked between Anne’s pale thighs. Please, God, let Anne and the baby be all right. Help me to do the right thing.

  To her utter shock, there was indeed a tiny, dark hair-covered head protruding from Anne in a most distressing way. “Yes,” she cried. “Yes, I see a head.”

  Anne grunted and writhed around in pain for a moment, while Vanessa wrung her hands. At last, the contraction seemed to abate, and Anne fought for breath.

  “On the next contraction, I am going to push,” Anne told her. “You need to catch the baby. Help guide it out. Can you do that?”

  Vanessa bit her lip, horrified, but nodded. “Yes, I can do it.”

  “We need a piece of cloth, something to wrap it in,” Anne said, her voice cracking.

  Vanessa pulled up her skirt and ripped a piece of her petticoat.

  Anne smiled a bit. “You’re so resourceful, Vanessa. You’re a good friend.”

  Trying to return her smile, Vanessa forced down her panic. “Just tell me what to do. I’m here for you. I won’t let you down.”

  Anne’s smile slipped, and she clutched her stomach, sobbing as the pain gripped her once more. “It’s coming. Oh, God. It’s coming.”

  As her friend groaned and seemed to put every ounce of strength she had into ejecting the small intruder in her womb, Vanessa leaned forward and took the tiny head in her hands, helping to ease it out into the world.

  Then, in a slither of fluid and a scream from Anne, she was holding a tiny baby…girl…in her hands.

  “It’s a girl,” she breathed. “It’s a beautiful baby girl.”

  “Wipe her face,” Anne gasped. “She’s got to breathe.”

  Panicked, Vanessa wiped some of the slime from the baby’s scrunched-up face, and the infant suddenly burst out in a howling wail, which was quite possibly the most beautiful sound Vanessa had ever heard.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Vanessa somehow managed, with Anne’s instructions, to complete some very bloody and disgusting tasks. She was rewarded, however, when she managed to put the child in Anne’s arms and then collapse next to her.

  “You did it,” Vanessa said, pushing a damp, limp strand of hair out of Anne’s eyes. “You’re amazing, my friend.”

  Anne just stared at her daughter, love shining in her eyes. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  Vanessa nodded. “The most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.”

  “Her name is Felicity,” Anne whispered, her voice fading. “Will you tell Morgan that, Vanessa? That I want her to be called Felicity?”

  A feeling of foreboding suddenly built within her. “Don’t be silly, Anne. You can tell Morgan yourself. When he and Adrian find us.”

  “And tell him that I loved him. Please? Tell him that I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out how to make him happy, but that I loved him with all my heart.”

  “Anne, please, don’t talk like this,” Vanessa said fiercely. “You’re going to be fine.”

  Anne just looked at her with those big blue eyes filled with pain. “Yes, but if I’m not, you’ll tell him, won’t you?”

  “Of course I’ll tell him,” Vanessa breathed, feeling as though she were making a solemn vow. “Is there anything else?”

  “And my children…all of them. Make sure that they grow up knowing that they were my whole world.”

  “Yes,” Vanessa whispered, frustrated tears streaking down her cheeks. “Yes, I’ll make sure they know that.”

  “Good,” Anne whispered. “I’m so tired…can you hold Felicity while I close my eyes?”

  “Of course,” Vanessa reassured her, taking the tiny baby and cradling her in her arms.

  For a long time, she watched over Anne, but she seemed to be sleeping deeply. The things she’d said though… Vanessa was terrified to go to sleep, even though exhaustion pulled at her heavily.

  Another hour stretched by, and then another. Felicity was a warm comforting weight in her arms. At last, Vanessa stretched out beside Anne, the baby cradled between them. She closed her eyes and finally slept.

  * * * *

  After some disagreement on the matter, and a trip to where the girls had been abducted that turned up absolutely no leads whatsoever, the brothers decided to split up. Adrian and Clinton headed for Roger’s house where he kept his mistresses, while Morgan and Lucien went the other direction, toward Roger’s townhouse. Morgan had wanted them all to stay together, but Lucien had seen the sense in splitting up.

  The earl had decided if either group found Roger or the girls, one of them would go find the others before making a move.

  There had been further argument over whether or not Roger was even behind the kidnappings, but in Adrian’s mind, there was no doubt.

  Adrian chafed under the restrictions and hated that so much time had already been lost. It was already dark, and they were no closer to finding the girls than they’d been when Morgan had burst into his home this afternoon.

  Adrian was convinced that his stepbrother would be at the house where he’d found Bridget. Perhaps that was even where he was keeping Anne and Vanessa.

  He wished now that he’d made more of an effort to find the bastard on his wedding night. If he’d had the inevitable confrontation with his stepbrother then, the girls would be safe now. If something happened to them, if would be entirely his fault. He prayed that Vanessa was all right and keeping her spirits up, and that she knew he’d do anything to find her.

  * * * *

  Vanessa wok
e with a start, stunned to realize she’d actually drifted off. She had no idea how long she’d been trapped in this cellar before she’d fallen asleep, and now that she was awake again, disorientation made her sick and woozy. Not even the faintest stream of light crept into this dank, dark place, and she didn’t know whether night had fallen or if she’d slept the night through and it was already daylight.

  She shifted uncomfortably, moving a strange weight off her shoulder, only to have the bundle move and mewl. She scrambled to a sitting position and pulled the Felicity into her arms, the baby’s birth suddenly flooding back to her.

  The little girl began to cry and sucked helplessly at her finger. She needed to be fed, poor thing.

  “Anne, are you awake?” she whispered hoarsely.

  Anne didn’t reply.

  She fumbled around for her friend in the darkness, only to freeze as her hands closed around Anne’s arm. Something was wrong. Anne didn’t feel right. Horror gripped her as she frantically searched Anne’s neck for a pulse of life, but all she found was cold stillness.

  The spark had gone out of this beautiful, vibrant woman, and Vanessa feared she’d been gone for some time.

  With a shudder, Vanessa scooted away, clutching Felicity to her chest, and then doubled over, tears racking her body.

  Why had she fallen asleep? She should have been trying harder to figure out what was wrong with Anne. What if there was something she could have done to prevent this?

  The tears came faster, crippling her for quite some time with guilt, fear, and regret. She thought of Anne’s beautiful children, including the tiny life in her arms, and how they would grow up without a mother. Morgan would be devastated, and she knew how much Adrian would feel his brother’s anguish.

  The lock at the top of the stairs rattled as someone inserted a key.