Catching A Rake (A Rake's Redemption Book 3)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Bradford nodded approval. “He won’t be here until tomorrow at the earliest. We need to find her before then.” The fear coursing through his veins was like nothing he had ever experienced before. That storm off India was nothing to this. Those brigands in Egypt were but a bump in the road compared to this.

  “Miss Amanda, what can you tell me about the men who took her?” he asked, the words eating at his gut. The thought of her being physically taken against her will was tearing him up inside. What if they were hurting her even now as he stood there doing nothing.

  Amanda frowned slightly and shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t see much.”

  “Just tell us what you remember,” he said gently, determined not to frighten her more and make her forget some small detail.

  Amanda took a deep breath then said, “Two men, both with dueling pistols, polished and well cared for. A match, I believe. Not common weapons. The first man was shorter, a gray wool scarf pulled up to just below his eye. Brown eyes. Brown hair dipping out from beneath his cap.

  “The second man was taller, the leader. Again, a gray scarf, but a different gray, darker. Blue eyes. Black hair. A scar on his left temple that dipped below his scarf. I don’t know how far, but I got the sense it was a long scar.”

  Warwick’s mouth opened in shock as she continued to lay out what she had seen.

  “The man talked with a slightly educated accent. Middle class, I should think. He knew who Olivia was. He even knew that Nathanial was out of town. His hands were rough, dirty. I remember thinking that he talked like a clark but his hands looked as if he was a laborer.”

  Bradford nodded, impressed with the level of detail she was providing.

  “They placed a bag over Olivia’s head,” she continued as she shuddered at the memory. Bradford’s guts turned over at the image.

  “The bag had a drawstring. A golden thread with a wooden tab.”

  “Any hint where they were taking her?” Bradford asked.

  She slowly shook her head. “When they left, I hurried after them. I wanted to see.”

  “Really?” Warwick said, “You followed after two armed men.”

  Amanda nodded, “I looked through the crack of the door and watched them put her in a coach. They were not gentle,” she added with a sour look as she obviously remembered it.

  Bradford fought to push down the rising anger inside of him. “Can you tell us anything about the coach?”

  She slowly shook her head. “Not really. A large coach, the same size as Nathanial’s, only rougher looking. Not polished, not clean. I remember seeing a nasty scratch on the back and a dented corner. Things that Nathanial’s people would never allow.”

  “Remarkable,” Warwick said as he slowly shook his head and looked at Miss Amanda as if she was a totally different person.

  Bradford thanked her for her detailed report then turned to Warwick.

  “Any chance this is related to your rumors. The one about someone staging a kidnapping to hide a lovers tryst.”

  Amanda gasped, “Olivia would never be involved in such a thing,” she said, obviously offended that he would think so.

  Bradford nodded, he agreed with her but every aspect needed to be explored.

  Warwick shook his head, “I don’t think Olivia was involved in this in anyway, yet, something about that report. Some aspect rings true. That is the way of these things. You get parts and pieces. The trick is trying to understand which piece goes with which.”

  Bradford nodded as he ran a hand through his hair. He needed to find her. And soon. They could be anywhere.

  Turning he began to pace. Who could he go to for help? There was no organized entity to turn to. The only reason he even had the King’s government involved was because of Warwick. If not for him, the average person would have no one to turn to.

  Not for the first time, he thought it was time this country began to form some type of enforcement system to keep lawbreakers in check. Someone who was experts at this type of thing.

  “They are headed to Scotland,” he said suddenly as he turned back to the group.

  “How? Why?” Warwick asked.

  Bradford halted in his tracks and looked at his friend. “Where else could they go? Nathanial’s contacts will discover them if they stay here in London. Your contacts would find them if they tried for the coast. There have been no ransom demands. Not yet.”

  “Why Scotland?” Amanda asked.

  “To force her into marriage,” Bradford said with a heavy frown. “They can get married in Scotland without a license.”

  Amanda scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Olivia would never allow that to happen.”

  Bradford nodded. “I know that. You know that. But perhaps they don’t know Olivia as well as we do. Or, once they have her in Scotland, they could tell Nathanial that they are willing to submit to an annulment. For a price of course.”

  Both Warwick and Amanda frowned at his logic.

  “It seems like a stretch,” Warwick said.

  Bradford ignored his friend as he stared off into space. It made sense, it matched up with the rumors. It was a way of obtaining money without threatening physical harm. Almost a line the kidnappers were unwilling to cross. Also, perhaps most important. It was a way to avoid Nathanial’s wrath. A man couldn’t kill his ex-brother-in-law. Not without causing a scandal.

  No, his guts told him he was right. Even now, Olivia was being rushed out of town on the north road.

  “I’m going after her,” he said with determination.

  Warwick frowned at him. “You can’t be serious. We don’t know where she is.”

  Bradford examined his logic once again, becoming even more positive.

  “You stay here,” he said to Lord Warwick. “Your spiderweb of contacts is best controlled from here in London. When Nathanial arrives, he will add his contacts to yours. Between the two of you, it is our best hope. But I can’t wait. I add nothing by staying here.”

  Amanda studied him for a long moment then nodded. “My Lord,” she began, “when they were leading her away, Olivia told me to make sure I informed you of what had happened. Not her brother. Not Lord Warwick. But you. I fear you may be her only hope.”

  Bradford’s stomach clenched up. She had asked him to help. How that must have bothered her. She must have been truly terrified. Sighing, he nodded and turned to leave. He would find her or die trying.

  Chapter Six

  Olivia’s head bounced off the coach’s cushion, waking her from a troubled slumber. Surrounded in darkness with the rough fabric rubbing her face. Her wrists burned from the binding rope.

  Sitting up, she winced as awareness returned. The clop of horse’s hoofs, the rush of the wind, The bag over her head. It had all been true. Not a nightmare. She had truly been kidnapped. Even now she was being taken away from her friends and family. Taken to some future that she could not control.

  As she squirmed in her seat, she used her senses to explore her surroundings. The soft breathing and heavy sent of man let her know she was not alone. Her tormentor was still there.

  “Morning Princess,” he said with a heavy sneer.

  “Have we traveled all night?” she asked through cracked lips.

  “Almost,” he replied. “The dawn is not yet here, but it soon will be. You didn’t even wake when we stopped to change horses.”

  Her stomach fell. Had she missed an opportunity to escape? How could she fall asleep like that? Alone with a strange man sitting there. Her head still encased in a black bag. How had she allowed it to happen? There was no telling what might have come to be.

  The thought of him watching her as she slept sent a cold shiver down her spine. Her skin crawled at the thought of what he might have been thinking.

  “I’m taking this off,” she said as she reached up to remove the bag over her head. Her bound hands paused for a second, waiting for an objection. When he didn’t respond, she pulled off the bag and took a deep breath.

  The inside of the coac
h was masked by shadows. A faint silver light peeked in around the curtains where the full moon provided just enough light to examine her surroundings.

  Mr. Thug, as she had internally named him, sat in the far corner, smiling at her as if she were a prize he had just won. I am, she thought, he mentioned getting paid by someone. To him, I am nothing more than something to be traded for a hefty sum.

  A quick glance confirmed her impressions. Long scar, simple clothes, A shop’s clark with a very big pistol.

  “We need to stop,” she said. “At the next Inn.”

  He frowned and slowly shook his head. “Why?”

  Olivia winced inside. How to explain it without being crass or crude. But a woman could not be expected to travel all night in a bouncing carriage and not need certain … opportunities.”

  She held his stare, silently letting him know why she needed to stop. Finally, the situation sank in and he laughed.

  “Very well, Princess,” he said as he pounded on the roof.

  The coachman yelled at his horses and the coach began to slow. Finally coming to a rocking halt in the middle of the road.

  Olivia frowned for a moment until she realized they would not be stopping at a nice Inn. He laughed at her discomfort and opened the door.

  “Here?” she asked in disbelief.

  “it is either here or wait until we get to Scotland,” he replied with a sneer.

  Scotland. So that was where they were going. Why? None of it made sense.

  Maybe I could run, she thought. She had been a fast runner as a young girl, even beating most of the local boys. Could she run? Perhaps reach some distant trees. Hide until she could find help. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind as her abductor studied her for a moment and slowly shook his head.

  “You’ve got a choice,” he said. “Stay where I can see you. Or duck behind a bush but keep talking.”

  Olivia’s heart sank with despair. The embarrassment and shame would eat at her for years, she thought. But her body demanded she hurry. Taking a deep breath, she held the door as she slowly made her way down the steps onto the dirt road. Looking over her shoulder she saw two men up on the driver’s box. Both of them following her progress with interest.

  “I am serious, Princess.” Mr. Thug said. “Don’t make me come after you. It won’t be pleasant when I catch you.”

  She swallowed hard and made her way into the bushes. Her dress caught in the thorns, forcing her to pull it away, ripping the hem. This was humiliating. Absolutely the worst moment in her life. Being kidnaped had been shocking and terrifying. But this was worse.

  “I can’t hear you, Princess,” the man said.

  Taking a deep breath, she forced the humiliation out of her mind. Her responsibility was to live long enough until someone could rescue her or she could find a way to escape. And this was not that time. They were too ready.

  “What do you want me to say,” she said as she dipped out of sight of the men.

  “You can quote nursery rhymes for all I care,” the man said.

  Olivia bit back an angry retort and instead said, “You realize you will never get away with this. My brother will scour the ends of the earth to track you down.”

  The man laughed. “Believe me, Princess, there are worse things in this world than your brother. But then a Princess wouldn’t know about that. Now would she?”

  Olivia paused for a second. Keep him talking she thought, every little bit was helpful.

  “How’d you get that scar?” she asked, anything that might be history would be helpful for identification at a later date.

  He scoffed. “Where do you think a man like me might be wounded like that?”

  “The war?” Olivia said as she stood again and shook out her dress.

  “Very good Princess,” he said as he swung the door open for her and reached out a hand to help her up. Once she was situated, he pounded the ceiling and the coach started off again.

  Olivia pushed away the humiliation she felt at what she had been forced to endure. Concentrate she told herself. Learn, analyze. Be ready for an opportunity.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked. “You mentioned Scotland. Why there?”

  An evil grin spread across Mr. Thug’s face. “Because that’s where we are being paid to take you.”

  “Who would pay for me to be taken to Scotland?” she asked with an innocent shrug. All the while, holding her breath, praying the man would provide some key detail. Perhaps even divulge the mastermind behind everything.

  Instead, he simply smiled and shook his head as he turned to look out the window.

  “We’ll be coming to an Inn, shortly,” he said. Changing the subject. Obviously unwilling to provide her any more information. “We need to change horses. You will stay in the coach and remain as quiet as a church mouse. Do you understand?”

  She nodded slowly, she understood. Be ready, she told herself. This might be her only opportunity.

  “And Princess,” he said as he removed his pistol and held it on his lap. “If I have to kill you to avoid being captured, I will. You won’t be the first person I’ve killed and probably won’t be the last. So, you should avoid all silly ideas about trying to escape or raise attention.

  “If you kill me, you won’t get paid. Under no circumstances would my brother pay a ransom without assurances of my safety.”

  The man shrugged. “Not getting paid is better than a hangman’s noose.”

  She examined him for a long moment and realized he was being very truthful. He would kill her without regret. The sense of doom that engulfed her sent a cold shiver down her spine. She might very well die.

  Slumping back into the seat with defeat, she began to realize that escape was going to be very difficult. Perhaps rescue might be her only chance.

  .o0o.

  Lord Bradford slowly worked the new horse up to a full gallop. How far ahead were they? he wondered. Was he even now chasing a ghost in the wrong direction? What if they were not bound for Scotland. What if Warwick was right and this was a fool’s errand? They could have turned off any of a dozen roads.

  These and a dozen other worries nagged at the back of his mind.

  No, he told himself for the thousandth time. This was the right course of action. It had to be. He had to get her back before they hurt her.

  Leaning forward, he urged the horse to race faster. It was his only hope. A carriage was better over a long distance. The horses tired more slowly. His only chance was to change horses more often. So, he had stopped every ten miles or so and switched out mounts.

  His body ached. Thirty miles at a full run tore at a person. His legs felt like stone and his back muscles continually threatened to seize up and never let go. But he could not stop. Not until he had found her.

  This was his third horse and the stable boy at the last Inn had told the truth when he said he could race the wind to a draw. He would find them, Bradford told himself. Then he would make them pay. If Olivia was unharmed, he would let them live. At least long enough to face a noose. But if she had been harmed in any way. The abductors would never live to see a magistrate.

  The anger inside of him continued to build. For someone to do this was unconscionable. Olivia had never hurt anyone. Despite their many arguments, at her core. Olivia was kind and sweet. At least to everyone else in the world. Not someone who deserved to be treated in this way.

  As he rode, his mind wandered to thoughts of Olivia. How was she faring of course was at the forefront? But he also thought of the past. Of the way she looked on a dance floor. Grace, beauty, style, everything in one package.

  The way she laughed when she thought something was funny. A full on, human laugh. Not a soft snicker behind a hand. But open and honest.

  He thought of how the servants and staff loved her. How her kindness and gentle manner made everyone feel comfortable, regardless of their station in life.

  He had never understood why she found him so objectionable. But it was of no matter, she c
ould return to despising him once he knew she was safe again.

  Damn, he must find her, he told himself as he nudged the horse to continue the gallop at full speed. He would have to slow in the next mile or so and allow the horse to catch its breath before picking up speed again in a dash to the next Inn.

  How far ahead were they? he wondered. What if he missed them? Rushing past an inn where they had stopped for the night.

  No, they had to assume that someone might be after them. They could not rest. They would stay on the road, racing for Scotland. It was only a matter of being faster. That and praying they had not turned off onto some side road.

  Jocko had the docks covered. They would not have escaped that way. Warwick and his smugglers would oversee the coast. Again, there would be no escape that way. It had to be Scotland. Anywhere else in England was too dangerous. Someone would see something. Someone would know.

  Besides, it matched up with Warwick’s rumor.

  He adjusted to the horse's rhythm, settling in for a long ride. As he crested, a hill he studied the road in front of him. The morning sun was just peaking over the horizon to his left. Just enough light to see a small cloud of dust in the far distance.

  Was that them? Could it be?

  Kicking the horse's flanks, he urges him on.

  The road dipped and turned and he lost sight of the dust, but he did not falter. He continued to race, silently thanking the stable boy. If he caught them, he would make a point of going back to that particular inn and award the young man a hefty purse. The horse was excellent.

  Racing around a curve, he caught sight of a coach in the far distance. His heart jumped in his chest. Maybe. Who would be out on the road this early in the morning?

  Reaching into the saddlebags behind him, he removed two pistols and stuck them into his waistband. They were the new Forsyth’s percussion pistols. Nathanial had discovered them only the year early and given him a brace. He didn’t have to worry about loading a flash pan for the flint. These could be fired from a full gallop if necessary. An opportunity he would utilize if given the chance.

  Gripping the horse with his knees he straightened up to get a better view. The coach was approaching a long hill. It would slow, giving him a chance to reach them before they gained the crest. Smiling to himself he started scanning the coach for any of Amanda’s clues. And there it was, as clear as day. A dented corner.