Wedded to the Wicked Lord: Historical Regency Romance (Wicked Warwick Wives Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  She shifted the meal aside. “I am not hungry.”

  Once she did this, she looked forward and blew out a breath.

  “Do not be so foolish as to want to starve yourself for the rest of the way,” snapped the man with an unusual hand.

  Rachael was struck again with that sense of familiarity. She tried to recall where she had heard that voice before.

  His voice was coarse and gruff, as though he had not spoken in a while. And although it seemed mostly strange to her ears, she was quite certain that it was a bit familiar.

  “I am not hungry. I would rather—"

  She was interrupted by the man on her other side.

  “You do not know how far we are from our destination, Your Grace. It would be better for you to eat now than to starve yourself ‘til then. Unless you wish to faint on the way there, then that is fine.”

  Rachael felt all her resolve die off when her stomach rumbled very lowly. She was indeed famished, but she was so furious about receiving any meal from these men who had taken her captive.

  The man on her right placed the meal in her hands again. “Eat, Your Grace. You are very much famished.”

  Rachael’s cheeks turned red. She had not known that the rumble of her stomach had been heard. Too ashamed to do anything else, she began to eat the meal.

  She ate as slowly as she could. She dreaded what would happen once she was done eating.

  Rather that attract furious reactions from the men for her slow eating, all she received was silence.

  When she was done, the man on her right poked his head outside the window of the carriage and said, “Ride on.”

  Before he did that, he covered her face like he had done before, tying her mouth and her eyes. She also felt him gripping her hands together to tie them. She sighed. She would have tried to make an escape when the men had left to get some food, only she had been tied by the leg at that time, which restricted her from taking such action. And now, again, she was put back in the same position.

  The rest of the ride was silent. Each bump the carriage encountered terrified her. Her mind raced as she heard the wheels of the carriage. She kept wondering where they were taking her. She kept hoping for some kind of miracle to intervene. She had done nothing wrong, except, of course, be wed to Loftus. Of course her traitor of a husband would have enemies that were now after her because he was gone.

  Her hands shook. Her body shook. There was fear buried deep inside her, but on the surface, all she felt was anger. She was angry at everything that was going on. Angry that she still had the stench of Loftus’s evilness while he lived. She was angry that it affected her life, affected who she was in the eyes of so many people. She was a disgraced Duchess. Even favour from the king could not redeem her after what Loftus had done.

  She wondered what these men wanted from her. And what they would do to her. She wished the cloth around her mouth was not there, so she could speak to them and make them understand that she had done nothing wrong.

  And to think that she had been planning to start a new life in Brighton with her friend Emma.

  Rachael stilled at the thought of Emma. Dearest Emma would be filled with worry. She would be bothered about her whereabouts. She wondered if Emma was worried now, for Rachael was supposed to have arrived. Brighton by noon, that is what she had told her friend. With everything dark, she saw nothing and could not tell what time of the day it was. But she did know that it was past noon.

  Rachael grew gloomier with each thought that graced her mind. She felt so distant and so away from where she truly was at that point in time.

  Her eyes began to feel drowsy beneath the cloth. She let out a low sigh and let her head move sideways. When she realized what was happening to her, she shook her head and forced herself to stay awake. She could not fall asleep under such circumstances. She shook her head rapidly and remained conscious.

  Rachael was not sure how long they had ridden for, but she knew it was long enough. She was exhausted. Her legs had begun to ache and her hands itched as well. But she endured all of this without making any sound. She did not want the men to know how extremely uncomfortable she was.

  The carriage soon halted. It halted abruptly, unexpectedly. And this made her body jerk forward at the sudden movement. Beside her, she felt the men alight from the carriage. Her heart began to pound.

  She wondered where they were.

  Soon, she began to hear voices around her. Whispers, harsh whispers, and discreet discussions.

  Rachael swallowed. She felt conscious of her environment then. Apart from the low voices she heard, she could hear nothing again. Not the chirping of birds or anything else, just utter silence. It seemed to her that night had come.

  Her heart pounded. Where was she? And what was going on?

  The door to the carriage opened suddenly. She felt a cold hand grip her leg and she screamed. Her scream came out muffled, but she kept on screaming. The hand began to untie the rope used to hold her legs together.

  When he was done, she heard him say. “Come on down.”

  Rachael could not bring herself to move an inch. She sat still, her shoulders high and tense. She was petrified.

  “Your Grace?” she heard again. But she was still.

  Suddenly she felt a hand grip her upper arm. She screamed again, but it did not matter. She was still pulled out of the carriage.

  She felt another hand grip her upper arm. It felt as though she was being passed around.

  Her eyes welled up with tears, for darkness did not let her see what was happening in her surroundings. She wondered if this was how she was going to live her last day, with strangers who bore a grudge against her.

  Rachael shook with fear now. Her rage was deeply buried as her fear surfaced.

  She wished the black cloth around her mouth was no more so she could plead with these men.

  She felt herself being led away and there was nothing she could do, the grip on her was too strong. The hand led her up some stairs. She almost stumbled as she walked on. Her reluctance grew when she had to climb another set of stairs. She found herself pulling back.

  “Lady!” the man who was leading her snapped. “The sooner you comply, the better for you. You certainly do not want to get harmed falling off these stairs now, do you?”

  The person who spoke to her seemed angry. But what right did he have to be so? She was the one being dragged against her will! She was the one in an unknown house. She was the one surrounded by strangers who had captured her for something she knew not.

  If anyone was to be angry, it was her.

  The hand gripped her again and began to lead her. A door opened and she was pushed into a room. She stumbled into the chamber and the door was shut.

  She could still smell the man close by. His scent filled the air. She moved back slowly, her face moving around. When she was stopped by something hard behind her, she turned to see what it was.

  Her tied hands began to move towards the area she had been hit. It was then she noticed that it was a bed. She was in a bedchamber.

  Rachael began to scream even though her voice was muffled. She began to scream so loudly that the hindrance around her mouth made her feel as though her breathing had become slow. But she did not care. She was in a bedchamber with a stranger and her hands were tied, her eyes and mouth covered. She began to move back, until she forcefully hit the side of the bed and stumbled onto it. She became silent after that, perhaps from the shock or tiredness, she did not know, but it made her silent.

  When Rachael sat on the bed, she realized that she was utterly alone in that bedchamber. There was utter silence. Her breathing calmed then, but her ears remained sharp, waiting for any sound at all.

  Her attentiveness was why she heard the doorknob turn so gently. But she heard it, nonetheless. She held her breathe when she heard footsteps walking into the bedchamber.

  A hand suddenly gripped her wrists and began to untie her. The same was done to her eyes and mouth. She opened her
eyes instantly. Her wrists hurt, and so did her mouth. She rubbed her wrists and looked up. One of the men from the carriage stood before her. His face was still covered. Behind him, she saw a footman holding her trunk. And a maid stood beside the footman. Rachael was surprised that only one trunk had been brought. But then again, she was not so surprised. She had been abducted; it was not as if she had ridden freely to this destination. Those bloody men had left the rest of her belongings in those woods. She pressed her hands against her temple and groaned.

  The man in black gestured around. “Set the trunk aside. Beth, attend to the lady.”

  The footman did as told while the maid walked up to her gently, her head bowed.

  Rachael turned to the man in black. “Who are you? Pray tell what it is you want from me?"

  The man inclined his head. “Best be quiet now, Your Grace. I advise that you keep your energy for now. The time when it shall be needed draws near."

  With those words, the man walked out of the bedchamber, the footman following closely behind.

  The maid spoke up. “Would you like a bath, Your Grace?"

  Rachael turned to the maid sharply, her anger having risen to its peak. “All I want is a way out of here!" she snapped.

  The maid said nothing. Rachael looked at her very closely. Her eyes narrowed as she did so. It felt to her then as though she was only seeing the maid for the first time. A small smile crept on her lips. She could use this maid to at least get some information on who had abducted her.

  "What is your name?"

  The maid looked up. Surprise marred her features. She seemed very young. Rachael was certain she was no more than one and twenty, if not less.

  "My name is Beth, Your Grace," said the girl.

  "Beth. A lovely name. Have you worked here long?"

  The maid cast her gaze away again. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  "How long?"

  "Years. Since I was a young lass."

  "Did you know I would be coming?"

  Beth looked up at her. She did not respond, but Rachael knew the answer. She had known. If Beth had been informed of her arrival, then it meant that her captors had plotted her abduction for a very long time. She found that information unsettling. Her skin prickled. These men had been watching her for a very long time. Which was how the men had known where to find her, and how to attack her. Surely they knew that she had been traveling alone.

  "I was called to care for you, Your Grace," said Beth. She looked up to gaze at Rachael very briefly and looked away. “Is there anything you would like me to do for you?"

  Rachael sat up. “Tell me, who is the master of this house?"

  The maid looked up then. Her shoulders sagged a tad.”You must pardon me, Your Grace. But I have only come here to see to your needs. I do not know anything you wish to know.”

  "You know not the name of the man who called you to work?"

  Beth shook her head. “I do not know, Your Grace.”

  "But your mother has worked here for years, no?"

  Beth simply bowed her head and said nothing. Rachael knew then that Beth would never give her any useful information. She must have been warned against it.

  Anger boiled inside Rachael. “Well, you must know that your master has brought me here against my will!"

  Beth was quite still. Rachael thought she had seen her flinch while she had been screaming. It really was no fault of the maid, Rachael thought. She was on doing her master’s bidding. She had no part in this. But Rachael was in no mood to do anything other than plot her escape from this place. All she wanted was a way to get out of here before it was too late.

  She felt dirty and tired from the day. What she needed now was to have her bath and be refreshed. It was uncomfortable for her in the dress she wore. Even her boots were all muddied underneath. There was no harm in her having a bath first, and then plotting her escape right after.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Prepare me a bath.”

  Beth curtsied. “Right away, Your Grace."

  Rachael looked around the bedchamber. She was calmer now, and she took the opportunity to look around.

  The bedchamber looked as though it had not been used for quite some time. But it was clean. There were no paintings on the wall, no jewelry on the mahogany table that sat across the bed. It was simply an empty bedchamber. But for her belongings, there was nothing else to identify anyone that could be found in that bedchamber. She closed her eyes and sighed.

  Beth returned not long after. “The bath is ready, Your Grace."

  Rachael was grateful for her efficiency. She did not take too long to soak herself in the bath. After, she slipped into bed while Beth asked if she needed anything else.

  "No, thank you,” Rachael responded. She turned away from Beth and stared at the wall, waiting until she heard the sound of the door click. Her heart pounded. She was petrified about the plan she had concocted in her head. Rachael waited a while, for much more time to pass. She waited until she was certain that everywhere was calm, until she was sure she would not be looked after like a child.

  She did not know how much time had passed, but she rose and walked over to her trunk. She slipped on a muslin dress and a cloak. Then, she made her way to the door and turned the doorknob, hoping that it was open. Luckily for her, it was. She poked her head out to see if there was anyone in the hallway. When she did, she saw that there was a man making his way over to her bedchamber. He seemed quite far. Seeing this, Rachael closed the door very gently, hoping that he had not seen her. She quickly took off her cape and slipped into the bed with the muslin dress still on.

  She covered herself with a duvet and stayed there for a while, waiting, heart beating rapidly. She heard the door of the bedchamber open, and she heard it close as well. Fear did not let her rise from bed anytime soon after that, for she thought that she would be easily caught, making the chances of her unplanned escape impossible.

  She did not know how long she spent, thinking about what to do, planning, wondering at the layout of the rest of the hallway, and where she was to go to. But she was unable to finish her planning before sleep pulled her in.

  Chapter Four

  It was a coincidence that upon the arrival of their carriage, the carriage that had taken Cecil to his barn also arrived. Cecil alighted with his cane in hand and a look of confusion. Edmund and George alighted as well, leaving the Duchess of Loringham—Rachael—in the carriage. Cecil looked between the two of them as they approached him. His focus shifted to Edmund after a while.

  "Edmund, did something go wrong? I waited at the barn as planned.”

  Edmund drew in a breath. “We have a lot to discuss. But I want us to do so when the lady is away from us."

  Cecil looked between him and the men behind him. Edmund could only imagine what it was that ran through his mind. But he stood his ground. His men would have to listen to what he had to say.

  After a while, Cecil nodded slowly. “Alright then.”

  "Good. George, lead her inside. Ask Gerald to call in Beth to tend to the lady. Meet us in the study when she is safely locked away.”

  George nodded and proceeded to do as asked. Edmund watched as George led Rachael out of the carriage and towards the house. He saw her struggle for a bit. It showed how terrified she was.

  A muscle twitched in his neck. It was best he stayed away from her for now, until he figured out what he planned to do. All he knew was that he did not want her to be in harm’s way. Her marriage to Loftus Allen had put her in harm’s way after all, he thought. He still could not understand why she had married such a crooked man. He wondered if he ever really knew her at all. Or perhaps he had, but along the line she had changed. There was so much that he was curious about. So much that he wanted to know. Questions that he wished to ask. Had she ever really loved him? Was she the lady he had known? Was she happy with Loftus, despite knowing who he was and what he was capable of?

  Edmund watched with his jaw twitching from his clenched teeth. He saw
that Rachael was taken away by George. He waited until they were far into the house and nowhere in sight.

  He signaled to his men. “Come, we shall sit in the study and await George. When he arrives, I shall begin what I intend to tell you.”

  Edmund led the way. By now, Rachael was ensconced in her bedchamber and was being tended to. He led the men to his study and shut the door behind him. Cecil and Eric took seats opposite him, while he took a seat behind the desk.

  "Brandy?" he asked the men, his brows raised.

  Cecil shook his head. “We are fine. We shall just await George."