Rogue of the Isles

by Cynthia Breeding

  “Thank you,” Mari said and turned back to the window as her aunt left. Where was Seth? She’d given him a half-crown to deliver the message. Perhaps he had decided to stop at the market. After all, she hadn’t asked him to wait for a reply since he was not to know what was in the sealed envelope.

  Mari retrieved her embroidery only to put it down after she pricked her finger once again. Maybe she should read a book to take her mind off Jamie. The first book that came to mind was Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur. Did she really want to read about Sir Gawain right now?

  Givens appeared in the doorway just as she was about to go to the library. “This arrived by special courier,” he said and handed her an envelope.

  Mari forced herself not to grab it from the butler and hoped her eagerness did not show on her face. Jamie had responded. Then icy cold sluiced through her veins. What if he had turned her down? “Thank you,” she managed to say, surprised her voice sounded calm. Givens nodded and moved down the hall. Mari sank down on the sofa, her hands trembling. She took a deep breath and broke the seal.

  Dearest Mari,

  Your letter was a welcome surprise. Please meet me in Hyde Park near Ladies Mile at four o’clock this afternoon. Come alone, if you can, because I have much to say.

  Forever yours,

  Jamie

  Mari clutched the note to her heart, wanting to shout for joy. Jamie wanted her.

  She glanced at the words again. She had so much to tell him too. He wanted her to come alone, which probably meant he intended to kiss her in a very improper way. At least, she hoped so. She remembered her conversation with Abigail. Maybe she’d just take the initiative herself.

  It would not be hard to get there. She’d have the carriage drop her at Maddie’s, since the baron lived only a few blocks from the park, but instead of going in, Mari would wait for the carriage to drive away and then walk to the park.

  She practically danced up the stairs to change into a different dress. Soon. Soon she would be seeing Jamie and everything would be all right.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Mari watched the carriage drive away as she stood in front of the gate that led to Maddie’s townhouse. Guilt had niggled at her on the ride over and she decided maybe she should talk to Maddie first. They were best friends, and it was only fair to let Maddie know about Jamie.

  “I am so glad to see you,” Maddie exclaimed, giving Mari a hug as the butler showed her to the sitting room. “Whatever happened last night? Did you and Nicholas have a romantic tryst?”

  Mari shook her head at Maddie’s enthusiasm. “Nothing like that. Quite the opposite. I told Nicholas I could not marry him.”

  Maddie’s mouth dropped open. “Why on earth would you do that? Let’s sit down and you can tell me everything.”

  “I really cannot stay.” Mari hated to ruin her friend’s afternoon, but it was better the truth came out. “I am on my way to meet Jamie at the park. We are going to marry.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened and then her face paled. “When…when did this happen?”

  “I sent a note to Jamie this morning. He replied a short time ago, asking me to meet him in the park.” Mari hesitated and then decided to explain the hand-fasting that had transpired while she was in Scotland. “So you see, in a way we were already betrothed.” She took Maddie’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I am sorry. I know you liked him.”

  Her friend’s face flushed, and for a moment she did not reply. “I think I always knew he wanted you,” she finally said in a small voice.

  “Will you be happy for me?”

  Again, there was a moment of hesitation and then Maddie nodded. Mari hugged her. “I really need to go. I promise I will call on you tomorrow.”

  She felt strangely lighthearted as she walked down the street toward the park. The air had been cleared. Maddie understood.

  As soon as Mari passed through one of the gates to the park, she saw a barouche waiting near the start of Ladies Mile. The driver appeared a bit rumpled, and the livery of the footman waiting by the door looked a bit too big for him, but it was the only carriage not circulating around The Ring or Ladies Mile. Mari smiled as she walked toward it. Jamie rode astride so he would have had to hire this coach and men. How sweet of him to go through so much trouble. With the drawn curtains, they were sure to have privacy too. In just a moment she would be in his arms.

  The footman bowed as she neared, taking her arm to assist her, and then opened the door.

  Mari peered into the dim interior. “You,” she gasped and then felt herself being shoved into the carriage. The footman climbed in behind her and slammed the door.

  Agnes looked again at the folded note Effie had just given her and sighed. “I really wish I could impress upon Marissa the importance of having a chaperone along even if she just went to Madeline’s.”

  “I do too, mum,” Effie replied, looking somewhat like a belligerent bulldog. “She sent me on a fool’s errand to pick up satin ribbon for a bonnet and left while I was gone.” Her scowl deepened. “She is a stubborn one.”

  Agnes knit her brows. “Do you think she lied?”

  “I helped raise Mari. I have not known her to lie, but when she takes it into her mind to do something that I do not approve of, she can be quite cunning.”

  “Well, I intend to have a word with Marissa when she returns. She simply must be given to understand the implications of roaming about at will. There has already been enough scandal associated with her name this autumn.”

  “I would like a word with her as well,” Effie said grimly as Givens appeared in the doorway, his face ashen.

  “What is it?” Agnes asked.

  “It is young Seth,” Givens answered. “He just now arrived in the kitchen, soaked and covered in mud—”

  “Goodness gracious, why?” Agnes exclaimed.

  The butler’s face grew even chalkier. “He says someone has abducted Miss Barclay.”

  Mari tested the rope that bound her hands behind her and her body to the chair in the dingy flat and then stifled a gasp of pain from the rope’s pressure against her ribs. She’d tried to fight off the footman, but he’d laughed and slapped her hard enough that she’d fallen across the wooden bench, knocking the wind out of her.

  Mari tugged at the bonds again. She could smell the brackish water of the Thames and hear muffled shouts and thumping noises so she thought she might be in a seedy neighborhood somewhere along the docks, but she wasn’t sure. Once she’d been subdued, she had been blindfolded and gagged.

  Mari stared now at her captor, standing by a filthy counter in the small, shabby room, swilling whisky and grinning lecherously. A mantel clock ticked loudly on the other side of the room. “We thought you had gone to France.”

  Wesley Alton poured more whisky and saluted her. “We plan to do that soon.”

  “We?” Mari’s heart leapt to her throat. “Why would you take me to France?” Oh Lord, there was probably a ship readying to sail right now. By the time anyone realized she was missing, she might already be out to sea.

  Wesley laughed, only it sounded more like a snarl. “You would prove too cumbersome to take along. Your family owes me. I am sure that damn Highlander will be willing to entail Newburn to pay handsomely for your return.”

  “You want to send a ransom note to Scotland? That could take days.”

  “It could, but I had in mind sending the ransom note to the other Highlander here in town who has access to the Cantford and Newburn accounts. After all, Newburn was supposed to be mine.” A strange glint appeared in Wesley’s eyes. “But maybe I should request dear Jillian in exchange for you as part of the bargain. She would have been my wife if that damn MacLeod had not interfered. I know she loved me.”

  Mari opened her mouth and snapped it shut, remembering that Wesley Alton had been committed to Bedlam because he was delusional and dangerous. He confused Jillian with his young stepmother, Lorelei, who had also been his mistress until she mysteriously disappeared. “Jillian has
been too ill to travel.”

  A look of rage swept across Wesley’s face. “The damn bitch got pregnant.”

  How did he know that? A sliver of fear slid down Mari’s spine. Had the man been spying on them all this time? She could feel the anger radiating from him and looked away, hoping not to provoke him further.

  “Maybe your sister can make it up to me,” Wesley said softly, all trace of anger gone from his voice.

  Mari glanced at him. That odd gleam in his eyes was back. Her uneasiness increased as he pulled a chair over and sat down close enough that she could smell the liquor on his breath.

  He picked up one of her blonde curls that had come loose in the struggle to blindfold her. Mari tried not to wince as his hand bumped against the bruise she had on her cheek from being slapped.

  “You do not look like her, but it does not matter.” He dropped his hand. “I will get you pregnant and she will be the aunt to my son. That would be nice.”

  Cold terror sluiced through Mari. She had to do something. Would anyone hear her screams? Would anyone even be concerned if they did? The only women who came near the docks were harlots who sold their bodies for coin. “You…you do not want to do that.”

  Wesley raised an eyebrow, giving him a diabolical look. “No? Why not?”

  “Because…because…Ian and Jamie will pay the ransom. You will have your money and you can leave, but if you…you…you take my virginity, neither of them will rest until you’re dead.”

  “Um.” Wesley curled his lip. “Perhaps I will kill Ian MacLeod first. That would make his lovely wife a widow once more… She could come to France with me.”

  He rambled on, a vacant look on his face, and Mari prayed he would forget what he had just said. He lapsed into silence. Maybe she could distract him by playing along? “If you want Jillian to go with you, you need to treat me with respect. She will be very displeased if you do not.”

  Wesley gave her a sharp look, any element of madness erased. “Do not trifle with me. Don’t you think I know what you are trying to do?” A hint of amusement sounded in his voice. “In any case, you will not be a virgin for long. I just wish I had not promised my son he would have honor of taking it.”

  The ice that had replaced the blood in her veins made her feel rigid as a board, Mari frowned. “Your son?”

  “Why, yes. Nicholas.”

  The room suddenly began to tilt, and tiny points of grey flickered in front of Mari’s eyes. She struggled for a deep breath, ignoring her sore ribs, and tried to keep herself from swooning.

  “Nicholas?”

  “Yes,” Wesley said again as if speaking to a dim-witted child. “Since he is a talented painter and equally talented with the ladies, I asked him to come over from France with the express purpose of seducing you or abducting you. I did not care which. Dowry or ransom—the money would be the same.” He gave her a condescending look. “Stupid girl. You made the decision.”

  Mari took another breath as the room slowly stopped spinning. Other things were beginning to fall in place. Nicholas’s sudden appearance in London’s social Season and his seeming disinterest in anyone except her, how seemingly eager he had been to pay her court. The maneuvering he had done—trying to create scandal that would ensure her ruin, forcing her to accept his proposal. Mari remembered all his flowery phrases and flattering compliments. She had believed each and every one of them, while criticizing Jamie for not being the cultured, refined gentleman. Shame crept over her. She had been stupid to believe all of Nicholas’s lies. She had been even more stupid not to appreciate Jamie for what he was.

  Jamie. He had never gotten her message. He didn’t know she loved him.

  Wesley laughed as tears sprang to her eyes, and he stuffed the gag back into her mouth, tying a cloth around it before walking to the door. “I’m going to get more whisky,” he said, “but don’t worry. Nicholas should be here shortly. I understand he is a bit vexed, so I expect taking your precious maidenhead might be quite painful, and things might get rather bloody when he shoves his cock into your ass, but you did ask for such treatment, didn’t you?”

  He chuckled again when Mari tried to answer and only made a muffled sound. “Then it will be my turn.”

  Jamie drew his dirk when someone banged loudly on his door. He nearly dropped it in surprise when he saw Mari’s aunt with Effie and a young stable boy standing in the hallway. The hair at his nape stood on end. “What is wrong?” he asked as he stood aside to let them enter.

  “Marissa has been abducted,” Agnes said without preamble when he’d closed the door.

  “What? How? Has there been a ransom note?”

  Mari’s aunt blinked as rapidly as Jamie’s succession of questions, tears brimming. “There has not been a ransom note yet. I think Seth can better explain what happened.”

  Frowning, Jamie turned to the boy, who looked frightened enough to swoon, and forced himself not to bark a command. “Tell me what ye ken, son.”

  The boy swallowed hard, his eyes darting to Effie who nodded before he looked back at Jamie. “Lady Barclay paid me to bring you a letter.”

  “A letter? When was this?”

  “This morning, a little before noon.” Seth’s voice trembled, and he took a step backward. “A man took it from me before I could fight him. I am sorry, sir.”

  Jamie wondered if the lad was afraid of him. He squatted down to be on the boy’s level. “’Tis nae yer fault if ye were accosted. What happened?” Seth looked up at him doubtfully. Jamie forced himself to smile. “Go on. Tell me all of it.”

  When the lad finished, Jamie stood, the cold, calm concentration that took over in battle manifesting. Someone had hired two killers to attack him earlier, and apparently the townhouse had been watched if someone had followed the boy here to the boardinghouse and then seen fit to try and kill the young lad to silence him. Jamie’s every instinct told him the Frenchman was involved, although now that Mari had made her choice, there would be no reason for him to be. Mari had probably written the letter to let Jamie know of her betrothal, so why was it so important he not get it?

  “Have you notified Algernon yet?” Jamie asked Agnes.

  She shook her head. “Marissa told me this morning she had declined Mr. Algernon’s offer to marry her last night.”

  “What?” Jamie’s heart stuttered, and he was sure he had not heard correctly. Mari had turned the French bastard down?

  “She came home early from the ball and said she was not feeling well. Since I had a horrible headache, she waited until this morning to tell me.” Agnes’s eyes widened. “You do not think Mr. Algernon had something to do with this?”

  “I think the damn—excuse me—Frenchman has everything to do with it,” Jamie said as he checked the two dirks in his belt and the sgian dubh in his boot. Taking the huge claymore from a hook on the wall, he strapped the scabbard to his back while Seth’s eyes grew big and round. “I think I’ll pay him a visit.”

  He strode out, feeling more elated than he had been since their return to London. Mari had made her choice. Now Jamie was free to pursue any method of persuasion to convince her of his love. He could think of one beginning with finishing what they’d started that snowy morning in Scotland. Jamie touched the weapons on his belt. Come hell-fire or high water, he would find her.

  Mari was his.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mari stared at the door Wesley Alton had just locked. The filthy cloth in her mouth made her want to gag, and she tried moving it with her tongue to no avail. Forcing herself to remain calm, she tried to think. She had no idea how long it would be before Nicholas arrived. She had to get out.

  Mari looked around for some sharp object Wesley may have left. There were probably knives in the drawer, but she was bound to the chair, unable to stand or open a drawer. Her eyes rested on the empty liquor bottle sitting on the lopsided coffee table. It was about the right height for her bonds. Could she somehow break the bottle and use a piece of glass to saw through the rope on
her wrists?

  Desperately, she began to inch forward, a slow process since the chair was heavy and the floorboards uneven. The ticking of the clock grew louder—or maybe it was her own heart pounding—but the sound made Mari all too aware that time was passing much too quickly and her process was tediously slow.

  She glanced anxiously at the door. Nicholas had been angry last night, but she had not thought he would do something as drastic as arrange an abduction. But then she had not known he was Wesley Alton’s son either. Did madness run in families? Even if it did not, she knew Nicholas hated Jamie enough to make taking her virginity pure revenge. Mari shuddered. She had no misgivings about Wesley either, knowing Jillian had come close to being raped by the man as well. Ian had saved Jillian.

  Jamie had no idea Mari was even in danger.

  Her eyes stung with unshed tears, making her sinuses swell and threatening to close off her air supply. Mari stifled the sobs, having no time to waste on self-pity. She had been an absolute fool, but she would dwell on that later.

  Finally, after what seemed like long, long minutes, she made her way to the small table. Alternating trying to lift her seat and shuffling her feet, she managed to turn the chair around so her hands were in position. Craning her neck to look over her shoulder, she stretched her fingers toward the bottle.

  It was out of reach.

  Had she been able, she would have screamed in frustration. Mari tried maneuvering the chair closer to the table and caught her skirt on the splintered side. Drat it! She tried pulling away and then she stopped. Maybe she could use the splintered edge? She placed her hands alongside the fragmented piece, praying it would work, and began to saw at her ties.

  Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock droned on.

  Mari heard footsteps outside, and she stopped breathing. Had Nicholas arrived or was Wesley returning already? She had no idea how much time had elapsed.

  The footsteps moved on. Her breath returned and she kept working.