The men separated, and Felix and he took turns calling her name. Here and there, jokesters would pretend to answer in falsetto voices, making them pause in hope. Over and over, Will turned and stepped forward, praying that they’d find her just around the next bend.
When they reached the rest of the group again, his heart felt as if it were in a vice grip. Cora wasn’t there.
Cora
For a minute or two I could see his head towering over the others, but then I lost sight of him. Only the view of the tunnel exit gave me hope. At the end was freedom. A place I could once again find my footing. Control my own path. Breathe.
We burst out and separated, all still running, frightened we’d be trampled by those behind us. I lifted my skirts and ran with the rest. But then people were pausing in groups, gasping, laughing, patting one another on the backs in congratulations for having escaped the potential goring and the more likely death at the hands of their fellow man. I didn’t have to speak French to interpret what they were saying.
Police were arriving, blowing shrill whistles. Injured people were tended to. I milled among the small groupings in the dark, still trying to catch my breath and slow my hammering heart, trying to make out faces. I was looking for Will, my family, anyone from our traveling party. I couldn’t see any of them. And there were hundreds upon hundreds of people about.
Two men came up to me, both tall. “Mademoiselle? Êtes-vous perdue?”
My eyes shifted from one to the other, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I wasn’t certain of what they said. They might’ve been asking if I needed help—but my mind flashed to the time in Paris when Will and I had been followed, pursued. Did the men seem familiar? In the dark it was hard to tell.
And then five young men, our young friends who’d sat in front of us in the arena, moved around me, separating me from the two newcomers, facing off with them, flicking out their chins, barking quick words in French and gesturing for them to be on their way.
Once the worrisome men were gone, the five turned to me, bending their heads, all asking rapid questions of me at once in broken English. “Mademoiselle, what are you…Where…your escort? Are you lost, my friend? We…help?” Their manner was solicitous, not threatening, and I melted in relief. Will wouldn’t like it, but I decided to trust them.
“Mansion Mantin?” I asked hopefully. I needed to get back to the mansion. It was the only place I could be certain I’d find the others, in time. Here by the arena it appeared hopeless, especially as it seemed that the bullfighting match had been declared over, and more people streamed out, grumbling and disheartened, but all curious to see what had transpired with those who had fled, as if we were the new choice in entertainment.
“Mansion Mantin? Oui, oui, Mansion Mantin!” said one of the young men, offering his arm.
Another came to my other side and offered his arm as well.
I cast one more glance around, wishing there were gas lamps alight nearby. What if Will had been hurt? Or another in our group? Would they panic when they could not find me within reach? But here…it was impossible. It was best for me to go to the one place I knew they’d eventually head—the mansion.
I sighed and took one man’s arm and then the other’s. “Mansion Mantin, mes amis.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cora
My companions sang on the way, pausing to do a few steps of a dance with me. I laughed, and the tension that had held me eased as I gave in to the moment, appreciating that God had made a way for me to get to safety here in this strange city, where I spoke precious little of the language. We turned one corner and then another, the crowds thinning to just a few people here and there.
I craned my neck, looking for the mansion, thinking we ought to have arrived by now. But the men continued to chatter at me, and their antics distracted me. We ended up at the doorway of a cabaret, and I paused in confusion, looking up and down the street as the men gestured me in. “No, no,” I said. “Mansion Mantin. You said you’d take me back to Mansion Mantin.”
Two gestured to the door and held up one finger. “Un verre du vin,” one pleaded. “Juste une.”
I sighed and frowned in frustration. Perhaps they were confused. Perhaps there was someone inside that spoke English who could better aid me. Or a taxicab driver…
I felt a warning wash through me. No. I needed to get back. Now. Will would be so worried.
“No,” I said, turning around and walking to the curb, looking one way and then the other, trying to find the arena or some other landmark to help me get my bearings. “Mansion Mantin,” I insisted as two of the men came to either side of me.
“Oui, oui,” said one resignedly. He said something over his shoulder, and the others went inside, leaving me with just the two of them. A shiver of fear ran down my back. Without the camaraderie of the group, the atmosphere felt distinctly different. “Mansion Mantin,” said the second man, pointing down the street. There wasn’t another soul in sight, only a lone motorcar driving away, in and out of the creamy circles of light cast by the street lamps.
I frowned, my trepidation increasing.
“No, merci,” I said, deciding that I’d be better off going inside and finding help there than trusting these two, whose easy smiles had faded to determined, intent expressions. I turned to enter the cabaret.
“Comme ça,” said one, turning to walk backward, away from me. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Mansion Mantin?”
“No, merci,” I repeated, reaching for the door handle.
At that moment, the other man covered my mouth with his hand, wrapped his arm around me, and carried me toward his companion. Together, they hauled me into the alley beside the cabaret and down into the dark recesses. I saw other men at the end in silhouette, and I redoubled my efforts to get away. But it was no use. The two had an iron grip on me.
When we reached them, one flicked a lighter and held it up to my face to see me, and in that moment, I knew what I thought I’d known as soon as we entered the alleyway.
It was the man from Paris and his companion. Our kidnappers.
He smiled and laughed under his breath, saying something to the men who held me without looking away from my face. He leaned closer to me and then perused my body from head to toe. He flicked his fingers, indicating that he wanted me brought along. Another man grabbed my waist and put a cloth over my mouth. I tasted the medicine in it before I realized I was inhaling…and then I was out.
I awakened later in the back of a motorcar and, realizing I slumped against a man, quickly sat up. I blinked heavily, dizzy from the remains of whatever they’d drugged me with. I tried to make sense of what I’d seen in the near dark.
Art Stapleton sat beside me.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice honey thick with concern.
“What—? Where—? Art, what happened?” I asked, putting my hand to my head.
“You were attacked,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder out the back window. “Luckily I’d caught sight of you with those men and was a couple blocks away when I saw you hauled into the alley.”
“How…how did you get me away?”
“I didn’t do it alone. Our driver helped me waylay them.” I saw him nod to the front seat and then give a shrug as we passed a street lamp. “My pistol trained at the head of the leader helped convince them.”
“I…I don’t know how to thank you.” Madly, I tried to figure out how he and the driver could’ve held off five men and managed to squire me away—unconscious. It made no sense. But I was so relieved to be away from them that I pushed away my confusion.
“No thanks are needed. I’m only glad I happened to be the one who found you first. Everyone was so worried, back at the arena.”
“Is everyone else all right?” I asked, thinking of the girls, Viv, the men….
“Yes, yes. Everyone is present and accounted for. They’ll likely return here any moment. Ahh. Here we are. See? Safe and sound.” We pulled u
p in front of the mansion, and my remaining mad fear—that Arthur was somehow involved with the kidnappers—dissipated. If he were involved, he wouldn’t bring me back. It made no sense. The only thing that made sense was that he told the truth…he’d saved me.
And for that I was sincerely grateful.
He got out, paid the driver with a wad of cash, and came around to help me out. “Can you stand?” he asked.
“Yes, yes,” I said, but even as I did so, I sagged against him, almost falling from a wave of dizziness.
“Easy, there. I have you.” He picked me up then and carried me up the stairs. We reached the front door just as Will and Claude were stepping out.
“Cora!” he cried. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“She’s all right,” Art said, carrying me past. “She was attacked. But I managed to free her.”
He carried me into the front parlor and laid me down on a settee. Felix, Hugh, and Andrew followed us in, all demanding to know the details of what had happened at once. Apparently, Viv was up with the girls, trying to settle their nerves after our trying night.
“It was the same men, Will,” I said, staring at him. “From Paris. They followed us here. Two of the men from the arena grabbed me and took me into the alley, where they were waiting.”
Will paced back and forth, listening to me. “We have to go to the police.”
“You could,” Art said, going to a crystal decanter and pouring himself a drink. “But it will do you no good. They’re more corrupt than the mob in this city.”
“No. No.” I knew what this tour meant to Will now. It meant his entire future—either continue as a bear, trustworthy and capable of leading other groups, or go back to school to become an architect after collecting his check at the end of the tour. It wasn’t his fault that he shepherded children of the copper kings—targets for determined kidnappers. It’s not his fault. I couldn’t tolerate it if we became the end of all hope for him. What would he do? Where would he go?
And what chance would there be for the two of us?
I gestured for Will to come to sit beside me, and reluctantly, he did so, as tense as a caged tiger. “Will, nothing’s changed.”
“Nothing’s changed?” he sputtered, a flush rising on his cheeks. “Cora, they nearly had you.”
“Nearly. But we knew they were there all along, right? We have proper guardians. Who could have predicted that things would go awry at the bullfight?”
“It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is your safety. And I wasn’t able to secure that tonight.”
I pursed my lips. “A hundred different things could endanger us. Our fathers know that. Heavens, we could be killed at home or anywhere, Will. Thrown from a horse. Drowned like those on the Titanic.”
His eyes narrowed, and he put his hands together as if praying and tapped his lips with them. “What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying that we tell the girls that I was lost and that kind men from the arena helped get me home.” I looked at each man in turn, ending with Art. “Which is the truth.”
“Of a sort,” Andrew said with a snort, running his hand through his hair.
“You want to continue this tour more than anyone, Drew,” I said.
“Not if it means Vivian is at risk.”
“Were they targeting you?” Will asked. “Did they come after you, specifically?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head, accepting a glass of water from a butler. “Honestly, I think they were seeking any of us alone, lost.”
“Not us fellows,” Felix scoffed.
“I don’t know. I assume they’re after ransom,” I said. “Why wouldn’t they take any one of us? I think if we are to continue, you fellows have to assume you’re just as much a target as we are.”
“I’d dearly love if they would give me another chance at them,” Andrew said with a snarl. “I’d show them what a university boxing champ can do if he’s not blindsided by cowards. The cretins, going after our girls…” His protective inclusion of me warmed me a little, even in the midst of his diatribe.
“I say we go back to that cabaret, see if those gents are still there,” Felix said.
“Yes!” Andrew seconded.
“They won’t be there,” Art said calmly. “They were likely gone before our Cora was even face-to-face with her would-be kidnappers.”
“They told us where they lived!” Felix said, pacing. He threw one hand forward. “They were cheering for that one bullfighter from…”
“Listen,” Art said soberly, “don’t you think it was all a lie? A setup from the start. I saw them pay off others in those seats as we entered, but I figured they only were after better seats than their own. But then they invited you home for a party afterward, did they not?” He shook his head and sipped from his glass. “I’m telling you, it smells of a setup.”
Will’s head was in his hands, his fingers rubbing his scalp. He looked up at me again, his hands rubbing his face, his eyes running back and forth, as if visualizing what could have happened to me.
“Will,” I said lowly, pleading with him. “Don’t end it here. I want to go on. Finish our tour.” I want to see what else there is for us. I hoped he could read my intent in my eyes. “If you send word that we’ve been attacked again, our fathers will only tell you to bring us straight away to Vienna, yes? They are already en route. Let us get there, and we can discuss what’s next, together with them.”
He took a deep breath. “Are you certain? The fastest route to your fathers’ sides,” he said carefully, “may be to return to Pierre’s. Richelieu could provide additional security. We could send word to your fathers to meet us there. They’ll likely be coming through Paris anyway, boarding a train en route to Vienna.”
Felix let out a groan. “I no longer wish to return to Paris. If we’re going to continue traveling, let us go on.”
“Agreed,” Andrew said.
Hugh considered them lazily and then searched my eyes. “I’m in.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and then looked to Will.
“Are you certain, Cora?” he asked, now silently pleading with me. “The last thing I want is to see you or any of the others come to harm.”
“I’m certain.” I swung my legs down and sat up straight. I knew I must look a sight, but I wanted him to see me stronger, more assured. “It’s really a sort of adventure, yes? A part of our tour. Seeing what lengths people might go to. I consider myself more educated because of it.” I cast them all a wry smile.
Hugh laughed softly at my words, as did Art. “Come now, young bear,” I said, fighting the urge to reach for his hand. “Lead us on?”
He shook his head and smiled in wonder at me. “Only if you promise me not to go anywhere without escort.”
“I promise,” I said. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew we were both thinking of that moment when the crowds parted us and there was nothing we could do about it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cora
Back in my room, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was in disarray, my careful knots gone. I glanced down and saw that the pocket of my jacket was torn and my skirt was smudged. I leaned forward to look into my own eyes, wondering if I’d just made a fatal decision. Memory of the man’s grimy hand over my mouth, the feel of his iron grip…I shivered, just as Anna entered.
“Help you change, miss?”
“Please.” Every muscle in my body ached as the maid hurried over to help me take off my jacket and then helped me slip out of my blouse and skirt.
“Miss?” she said, holding my arm, eyes wide with alarm. I looked down and saw what she did—the four bruising lines of a man’s fingers. “What happened to you?”
“Pay it no mind, Anna. Just part of my adventures this evening.”
“Are you certain?” she asked, still holding my arm, reaching for my face, apparently seeing something else there.
“I am.” I pulled away and turned to reach
for my nightgown. How many times were people going to interrogate me tonight? My decision to stay was made. Right? I threw the lace-trimmed gown over my head and yanked it down, wanting only to slip under the covers and try to dream away the worst of tonight’s memories.
Anna wordlessly helped me into bed and covered me. “Anything else, miss?”
“No, thank you, Anna.”
She turned and blew out the bedside lamp, stiff with obvious frustration that I hadn’t elected to confide in her. She made her way out of the room. I resisted the urge to call her back, to tell her every detail and make sure I was making the right choice. Was I endangering her life too? Memories of the dead butler back at Pierre’s chateau rose in my head. I turned over and closed my eyes tight. “Give me wisdom, Lord,” I whispered. “Is this the right way? Is there any other? Without harming Will’s future?”
But truth be told, I wasn’t ready to give this up either. When would I ever return to Europe in my lifetime? If I went my own way, and Wallace Kensington went his…if we parted now, as I wished, would I ever find out if there was something of merit growing between me and Will? Between me and my siblings?
What would my parents, Alan and Alma, tell me to do?
My stomach rumbled. From hunger or agitation?
I felt so confused…so lost. Thinking about returning to Pierre’s sprawling chateau. The danger in my kidnapper’s eyes. His glee at having me in hand. And wondering again how Art freed me… Then thinking of my parents again, of sitting down to a meal with them and taking part in quiet conversation, wisdom etched into their thoughtful words. I had to send them a telegram soon.
On and on my thoughts went, some connected, some not, until I was once again out of bed and slipping into my most comfortable gown. I brushed my hair, pulled it into a quick knot, and shoved several pins through it. I bent to loosely lace up my boots and then quietly stepped out of my room, well aware that it was past two in the morning.
Grave Consequences (Grand Tour Series #2) Page 13
