“Well, she is succeeding,” the first man grumbled again.
This time his voice sounded oddly familiar. In a flash, a memory hit her—when she and Nigel were walking toward the maze and he muttered something. Immediately, she knew who the first man was. Good ole Nigel Radcliff!
She knew not to trust him. But was he really the leader in this group or was the other man? And she was quite certain she’d never met the other one. Nothing about him was familiar.
She rested back in her seat, laying her head against the coach’s wall. The bouncing of the vehicle tried to relax her, but her mind scrambled to figure a way out of this. If Georgi had been kidnapped, her father would have saved her—so Andrew had told her when she was at the bed and breakfast. But what of now? Would the duke try to rescue her? Or would Andrew? And attempting her rescue, would it then put their lives in danger?
Halle wasn’t sure how much time had slipped by, but soon the coach stopped and they were climbing out. She stumbled again as she tried to follow their lead, only because they didn’t know the first thing about leading the blind. They walked in to some kind of structure. Taking a deep breath, she tried to familiarize herself with the smells around her. Dust and mold, mainly. She sneezed. But there was also a hint of something cooking in one of the other rooms. So perhaps they were in a house.
At first the room seemed to have a lot of light, but the farther she walked, darkness began to close in around her. Then they shoved her and she stumbled onto a bed, at least she hadn’t fallen to the hard floor. Before she could say anything, their heavy footsteps left, and the creak of the door closing and hard click of the lock sealed her prison.
“What? You can’t even take off my blindfold?” she yelled. “Idiots! You don’t know the first thing about holding someone for ransom, do you?”
But they probably wouldn’t. She’d seen enough movies and read so many books about the subject that she could probably give them pointers.
Using the side of her face against the wool blanket, she worked the cloth mask until it moved. Vigorously, she continued with this undertaking until the cloth slowly slipped up her head and she could see again.
She blinked to adjust her eyes. The room had no windows, and the only light came from the holes in the walls and around the door. Indeed, this was no castle, but a rundown old cottage. The small bed where she lay was the only furniture in the room.
She listened closely for Nigel and his friend, but she couldn’t detect any voices. Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and held back the tears stinging her eyes. Andrew had to come for her. Hopefully Georgi would get home safely, too.
How much time passed, she didn’t know because she drifted in and out of sleep. Her mind was weary of trying to figure a way out and if these two men were the ones who were going to attack the manor on December 20. Gads, she hoped they weren’t still planning it. She wanted to believe she had altered time enough to stop the madness of these men.
She closed her eyes once again, and a short time later, the door opened. Due to her exhaustion, she didn’t look to see which fool came in. From the brightness shining on her face, she assumed he’d brought a lamp.
The man pushed her achy shoulder, but she refused to let him know she was awake. He pushed again, harder this time, but still she made no movement to alert him that she knew what was going on.
“I think she’s asleep.”
“Yes, I think so, too. Just let her sleep, but untie her hands.”
The man fumbled with the ropes at her wrists. Gradually, they loosened and blood began to flow back through her limbs. The men’s footsteps left the room, the door creaked as it was closing. But she also heard the two men talking just outside her door.
“I expect to be hearing from the Duke of Harrington any time now.”
“Good, good. Things are going according to our plans.”
“I’m just worried about Lord Andrew.”
“Why, Nigel? We haven’t involved him in any way.”
“True, but I saw the way that man watched Miss Chapman the other night at the ball. He has feelings for her. I’d bet money on it.”
One pair of footsteps came closer to the door but stopped before he entered. She continued to feign sleep.
“That is very interesting,” the mysterious man said. “I’ll have to think of a way we can blackmail him into getting what we want.”
There was a pause, and Halle wondered if they were still watching her, she knew they were since she hadn’t heard them walk away. It unnerved her to know they studied her so intently, so she made doubly-sure she laid still and took deep breaths as if she were sleeping.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Nigel said.
“Indeed, she is. She reminds me of her mother.”
Halle hitched a breath—quietly, of course. My mother? How would he know her mother unless…
Flashbacks resurfaced of when she was at Buckland manor trying to find her father. He’d been gone a month. Andrew had traveled forward in time a month. What were the odds her father had gone through the tree to return to this time just as Andrew had come forward?
The pounding in her skull led her to believe she was close to the truth. Why else would Will Chapman just fall off the face of the earth after writing to her for over a year? He had taken the duke’s journals and read them. Will Chapman must have realized the tree was the link between worlds.
Her heart sank when realization crashed around her. Just like his ancestor the thief, Ruthless Ron, Will wasn’t the good man she wanted him to be. Instead, he was a common thief. Now he’d added kidnapping to his list of crimes.
Yet, he knew who she was. Could that be the reason he’d kidnapped her?
Nigel snickered. “I still can’t believe you sired such a lovely woman. Are you sure she’s yours? Perhaps her mother lied to you.”
“No, she’s mine,” Will said softly. “The poor girl has my spirit, and I fear if a man doesn’t tame her soon, she’ll get herself in trouble.”
What? Anger rose inside her chest. She was not like her father. Sure, she had a wild spirit at times, but she would never be like her criminal father and his lousy ancestors. If only he could have been the man he’d written about in his letters to her—the kind, hardworking, and trusting man she’d thought him to be.
A lump formed in her throat, and she wanted to cry. She quickly pushed away that emotion and made anger return. She refused to give her father…er, Will Chapman the satisfaction of seeing her cry over him.
Silence fell upon them one more time, and it became harder for her to remain still. She wanted so badly to lash out at him, to let her temper ride and tell him exactly what she thought of his deceitful ways.
Groaning sleepily, she shifted in her bed—mainly for show. It worked because she heard their footsteps shuffle back into the other room. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked toward the door. They’d kept it open, thank heavens. From the other room she noticed the fire in the hearth. A small amount of heat crept into her space, but not enough to keep her warm. Thank goodness her anger was keeping her blood boiling right now.
“Hello? Is anyone in there?” she called out, groggily. “I’m hungry. Are you going to feed your prisoner or let her starve?”
A shadow moved from within the other room, and soon she heard footsteps again. The man carrying a tray of food was her father, but he wore his mask.
“Did you have a good rest?” he asked.
“What do you think?” she snapped. “I had no pillow, no cover over me, and I slept in my dress. Not only that, but my stomach is empty and growling for a decent meal. Pray tell, would you have had a good sleep under those conditions?”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Actually, no. I suppose I would not.”
“Then why in the blazes did you ask such a ridiculous question?”
He shrugged. “I’m just trying to make conversation.” He set the tray of food on the bed beside her. “I hope you like stew.”
“At this point, I’ll eat anything.” She picked up the bowl and the spoon. The first bite wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was quite tasty, so she shoveled in a second spoonful. “Thank you,” she mumbled with food still in her mouth.
“You are welcome.”
He stepped back and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t speak, but his obnoxious stare would drive her insane if he didn’t remove his gaze.
She hurried through her meal, keeping her eyes downcast through most of it. Just as she was finishing, he handed her a linen napkin. “Thanks,” she mumbled in between mouthfuls.
“You are welcome.”
When she finished and wiped her mouth, she set the bowl, spoon, and napkin on the tray and handed it to him. “Thank you for feeding me. It’s good to know that you weren’t going to starve me.”
He took the tray from her. “I told you earlier that we didn’t want to harm you.” He set the tray on a table just outside the door before coming back to lean against the wall.
“So, what made you decide to become a criminal?”
His chest shook with a silent chuckle. “You think I’m a criminal?”
“I don’t think. I know you are. You have kidnapped me for money, and you are after the Merrick’s family treasure. That tells me all I need to know—that you live a life of crime.” She shrugged. “So tell me why you decided this was the life you wanted.”
The smile on his mouth disappeared as a frown claimed it. “You have no idea what I’ve been through in my life.”
“Then enlighten me.” She moved her gaze around the room quickly. “What else have we to do but talk?”
He stared at her for several long minutes before stepping into the other room and pulling in a chair. He placed it next to the bed and sat, facing her.
“I grew up very poor,” he began sadly. “My parents stole in order to live. When I reached the proper age, I started working for money. I didn’t want to become like my parents and live that kind of a life. Earning my own money made me feel like a man. I enjoyed the responsibility.”
“What made you change?”
He leaned back in his chair and swiped his fingers through his hair…hair, the same color as hers.
“I met the most beautiful woman in the world, and as luck would have it, she returned my love. I would do anything to make her happy. We had a child together, a beautiful daughter with eyes as green as the forest in the summer, and hair the color of wheat when the sun hits it just right. I thought my life was going to change for the better, but…” He paused and turned his head away from her.
Sorrow clenched her chest, knowing he was talking about her and her mother. “What happened?”
“I lost my job. I couldn’t bring in enough money to support my wife and child. Out of desperation, I returned to my first instinct…what my parents had instilled in me.”
“You became a thief,” she whispered brokenly.
“Yes. I never told my wife, but deep down inside my heart, I knew what I was doing was wrong. My wife suspected something, and I was too ashamed to tell her the truth. So one night while she and my baby daughter were asleep, I took the few belongings I had and left without a word. Since then, I’ve stayed many places, but I always used a different name because the law was after me. My wife and child never knew.” He hung his head and gripped his knees. “I couldn’t bear to see the look on her face when she found out what I’d been doing.” He took a deep breath and raised his gaze to Halle. “So I never kept in touch.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Many years. My daughter has grown into a lovely young woman now.”
“So what’s stopping you from changing your life again? You did it once before, so why can’t you do it again?”
“Because I’m afraid my daughter will not forgive me. I won’t be able to see that look of rejection in her eyes.”
She rubbed her wrist, still sore from the rope burns. “Do you want to see her look upon you with admiration?”
“Of course.”
Halle couldn’t understand how the hatred and anger that had consumed her moments ago was slowly slipping away. She actually started feeling sorry for her father.
Hesitantly, she scooted to the edge of the bed and laid her hand on his arm. “Then do the right thing and stop being the bad guy. If your heart is telling you to change, then do it. Money isn’t everything you know, and it certainly doesn’t bring happiness. Stop letting it rule your life. Allow love and kindness inside your heart, and you’ll be surprised how well all the pieces of your life will fall together. Besides,” she gave a one-shoulder shrug, “do you know what they do to criminals here?”
“Hang them.”
“Yes, or they cut off your hands. I don’t think you’ll find much work without your hands.”
His lips twitched into a half smile again. “No, I suppose I won’t.”
The floor shook as Nigel walked briskly into the room and nudged her father’s shoulder. “I think we have company.” He motioned his head to the other side of the house.
Her father nodded and stood. “Miss Chapman, it was a pleasure talking to you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to greet our guests.” He picked up the chair and the two men left the room, closing the door behind them.
Hope blossomed in her chest. She wanted her father to change his attitude on life, yet at the same time, she hoped Andrew and his father were here to rescue her…and that they caught Nigel and her father so they couldn’t form the mob to attack Harrington Manor.
She rose from off the bed and took quiet steps to the door. She listened intently for more voices, but couldn’t hear any. Pressing her ear to the door, she closed her eyes and prayed she’d detected something on the other side—anything to let her know what was going on.
Oh, Andrew? Where are you?
* * * *
Andrew rode his horse hard, pushing the animal to the very limit of speed. He had to save Halle. Why would they take her and not Georgiana? None of this made sense.
He’d been outside waiting for Halle and his sister to return, and when the coach came careening toward the house at a speed too fast than was necessary, fear sliced through him and he knew something wasn’t right. His sister had jumped out of the coach before it was fully stopped. Her face white as snow and tears streaming down her face. She ran and fell into his arms. Her body trembling violently. It took her several seconds to speak, and when she said the words—Miss Chapman had been kidnapped—he thought his heart had stopped beating.
Mr. Simmons, the driver, had given Andrew a note penned by the kidnappers. They wanted the Merrick’s family treasure.
Andrew fisted his hands, crinkling up the paper. This needed to stop. Now! Once he found Halle, he would have a long talk with his father.
Mr. Simmons gave Andrew directions to where they had taken her, and between the driver and Georgi, described the men the best they could.
Andrew mounted his horse and took off. Once he arrived at the spot of the kidnapping, he stopped his horse and dismounted. Almost ten years ago he’d been with the military, and he’d learned how to track. He never thought he’d use it again, but now he was grateful for the training.
Once he noticed the men’s footsteps—and hers—he swung back up on his horse and followed the trail. Remarkably, it led him to a vehicle. Probably a coach by the size of the wheel tracks. It led him on a different path away from the main road. A good hour later, a rundown cottage came into view. He slowed his steed and studied the place carefully. Smoke billowed up from the chimney although the place looked deserted. Indeed, this was where they were keeping Halle.
He jumped off his horse and tied the animal to a tree. He took quiet steps toward the house, keeping alert to any movements or sounds. The couch wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and Andrew hoped they hadn’t gone elsewhere.
When he came to the cottage, he flattened himself against the wall and slowly slid to the window. First he took a quick peek inside before jerking aw
ay. Then slowly, he looked again. The drapeless window let him see the empty room. Obviously the kidnappers didn’t have Halle in there.
They would hold her in the back of the house where it would be easier to make a quick getaway. He crept around the house, still not seeing the coach they’d traveled in. He did a quick scan of the trees around the area, looking for where they could have hid the vehicle.
The smoke billowing from the chimney was closer to the back of the cottage, anyway. This must be where she was.
He reached the door and pressed his ear against the wood. He couldn’t hear voices, but that didn’t mean they weren’t inside waiting for him.
Not far from the door was a pile of wood, freshly cut. He reached over and lifted a log. Since he didn’t bring a weapon, this would just have to do.
He carefully rested his hand on the latch and slowly pushed the door open. Quick footsteps thudded on the floor, and he lifted his wooded weapon, ready to use it.
Slowly, he pushed the door open wider and raised his arm. Holding his breath, he lunged into the cottage.
Chapter Eighteen
A man—almost as tall as Andrew—ran past him. Without a second thought, he raised the piece of wood and hurried to bring it down on the man’s head. But stopped short. Immediately, he recognized the shape of the other’s shoulders and the color of his brown hair.
“Edward!”
His brother stumbled and dove to the floor. His wide-eyed stare swung to Andrew as his mouth hung agape.
“Edward, what in all that’s holy…” Andrew grumbled and shook his head, helping his brother to stand. “What are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same.” Edward puffed his chest and stubbornly lifted his chin.
“I’m here to find Miss Chapman.”
Edward gaped again. “Wh—what are you talking about? Why would Miss Chapman be here?”
Growling, Andrew folded his arms, still holding the piece of wood. “Because she was kidnapped, and I followed the tracks to this cottage.” He swung his gaze around the room that looked to be the kitchen. “Who lives here?”
Love Lost in Time (Victorian Time-Travel) Page 22
