Cassie watched her brother leave the hallway, his wife on his arm, and shook her head. “I think that might have been him giving us his approval.”
Luke nodded. “I do believe so. The mere fact he has not slapped a glove across my face is a good sign.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him close. “You two shall be friends again once more, I am certain.”
“I believe so too.” He inched his arms around her, splaying one hand on the small of her back.
Cassie sighed at the touch. “I cannot wait to be married.”
He smirked. “Not long ago you declared you might never marry. Now look at you.”
“Yes, look at me, all covered in soil,” she said dryly.
“I am looking at you.” His eyes darkened.
“And what do you see?”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “A woman.”
“Well, yes.”
“A beautiful woman.” He kissed her forehead. “A clever woman. A bold woman. An amazing woman who has utterly bewitched me.”
“That’s more like it.”
He chuckled. “A demanding woman.”
She grinned. “And right now I demand a kiss.”
“You are trouble, L—” He stopped himself and offered an apologetic look. “You are trouble, Lady Cassandra.”
With a shrug, she brought her lips close to his. “I do not mind being Little Cassie so much these days. So long as I am your Little Cassie.”
“Always,” he vowed, knowing that was one vow he could keep. “You’ll always be mine, Little Cassie.”
THE END
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Read on for a sample from Capturing the Bride (Kidnap Club Book 1)
Capturing the Bride
It was hard to decide whether to be horrified or excited by this whole ‘kidnapping’ matter.
Was she addled to go through with this?
Probably.
Desperate too.
Grace eyed the unfamiliar countryside passing by at a rapid pace and clutched the cat tighter to her. Claude wriggled in protest and she released the animal. He stretched, took a dainty step off her lap, and twisted around several times before settling on the cushion beside her. She wished she could feel so at ease having been bundled into this stranger’s carriage by a masked man with long legs, and little to say for himself.
She understood the urgency, really she did, but she’d rather hoped for a few words of comfort from her kidnapper.
Horrified. That’s what she should be.
The whole matter had been such a strange, swift affair. The man had held up the carriage in which she’d been travelling with her aunt and taken her away at gunpoint in mere seconds. Her aunt did a fine job of playing distressed, but Grace was not so certain her own acting had been convincing. Especially when she’d refused to part with Claude.
The cat had been with her for years and as dismissive of her as the cat seemed now, he needed her.
And she needed him. If she was going to embark on this madcap plan, she needed her cat. Needed at least one familiar thing, considering she had left all her worldly belongings behind—what few she had that was.
It was a little exciting, though. She was leaving the awful Mr. Worthington behind and escaping her uncle’s clutches. It was like an adventure story, even if she did envisage her time away to be rather dull. She was not entirely sure what to expect but it sounded much like she would pass her days hunkered down, just making sure no one found her.
Hopefully, wherever it was she was to stay was not too uncomfortable or boring but having lived with her uncle, she had grown used to existing on little while he hoarded whatever he could for his own luxurious lifestyle. These days, she was lucky to own even a single book as most of them had been sold or were used to ensure his room looked the part.
The carriage hit a bump in the road, and she gripped the edge of the window. Claude opened an eye, twisted around, and resettled.
“It’s all very well for you,” she muttered to him.
How lovely it must be to be a cat. Nothing to worry about apart from where the comfiest cushion was. No fears of what might be ahead.
Good Lord, what was she doing? She never did anything different or unusual. She certainly never put her fate in the hands of strangers, especially for money. What if he intended to harm her? What if they wanted more money? There were so many things that could go wrong, and this was the most foolish, illogical thing anyone could ever do.
Horrifying, most definitely.
What woman in her right mind would go through with such a thing?
But, according to her aunt, these men were practiced in this and entirely trustworthy. She said an important man led the whole thing. Why an important man would wish to get involved with ransoms, and kidnappings, and helping women escape their fates she did not know, but how angry it made her that there was such a need for this service.
She frowned to herself. If it could be called a ‘service.’ It seemed a little silly to name it such a thing but what else could one call it?
If only the masked man had stopped to tell her where they were going or how long they would be travelling. They had been on the road for at least three hours and the interior of the carriage was growing cold. A blanket had been provided but it was thin and threadbare. She hoped this was not indicative of the care she was going to endure over the next month. She was no prissy, demanding lady but she loathed being cold.
At least the rain had stayed away, she supposed. Gray clouds had hung over the day like an ominous sign. Wet roads would have made the travelling all the harder and presumably made their already long journey much longer. She only hoped they were nearing the end.
Hauling the blanket a little higher, she shook her head at Claude. “The least you could do is sit on my lap and keep me warm.”
Claude ignored her, apparently sleeping, though Grace was certain she’d seen one eye slide open oh so briefly.
Grace shook her head and gave the cat a quick pet then returned her attention to the road outside. Lines of barren trees passed by before giving way to open land. Fields stretched out for some distance with no sign of life anywhere. Everything was tinged a dark gray by the threatening sky so that even the rolling hills looked unwelcome. They passed a tall pile of stone, set at odd angles and with chunks missing, and she realized it must have once been an entrance arch. Perhaps they were nearly there.
How exciting.
She craned her neck to see ahead, pressing her forehead against the glass of the window. The road continued down a hill then curved up a little. It wasn’t until they reached the brow of the hill did she see the building ahead. A huge house sat nestled in the valley, silhouetted against the hills behind it.
A shiver ran down her spine. The dark windows looked like little demon’s eyes, all black and emotionless. Even from here, she could tell the house was not lived in. The grand building offered up an air of neglect with untidy lawns, scrawny trees and bare vines wrapped around stone.
Horrifying. Most Definitely Horrifying.
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About The Author
Samantha Holt
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Samantha Holt is known for fun, witty, and usually steamy historical romances. She's been a full-time writer for longer than she ever thought possible having originally trained as a nurse and an archaeologist. She's a champion napper, owner of too many animals, mum to twins, and lives in a small village near the very middle of England.
She's usually writing (or napping) but when she's not, Samantha is plotting (books of course!) with her husband, drinking coffee, climbing hills that are far too high for her fitness levels or visiting stately homes and pretending she's posh.
ke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 1)
Secrets of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 1) Page 22
