“And you should have a care with your words, Annabelle. You do not want to insult me, not when I hold your life in my hands.”
Another outburst bubbled up inside her, but she clamped her lips shut.
He laughed. “Very good! Obedience is a desirable quality in a wife, and it is rewarding to see that you already know its value.”
“I’m not going to marry you,” she said.
“You are.” He arched his brows, a nasty gleam in his eye. “Do you know what will happen to your reputation once word gets out that you spent the night alone with me on the road to Gretna Green? Or at my Scottish estate? Your reputation will be ruined.”
She shrugged.
“And if your reputation is in tatters, your mother’s will soon follow.”
She gasped. “Mama didn’t do anything!”
“Her good name would be tarnished because of yours, my dear. And then who in New York society would allow her to darken their door? No, she would be an outcast.”
She clenched her hands into fists in her lap. “I’m sorry I ever told you about that.”
“We all have regrets, my dear.”
Samuel walked into Nevarton Chase without knocking, Cilla on his heels and John behind her. A footman stepped forward to stop him. He grabbed the servant by his liveried coat. “Where’s Bailey?”
The footman looked as if he would not answer, but Samuel gave him a shake. “Upstairs with Mrs. Bailey,” he said.
“How is she, Jeffrey?” Cilla asked. “I was told she was injured.”
“Took a tumble down the stairs trying to catch His Lordship. Knocked her head pretty good and broke her leg.”
Cilla met Samuel’s gaze. “I need to go to her.”
“I’ll come with you.” He shoved the servant aside. “Bailey did send for me, after all.”
“Sent for you!” the footman burst out.
John stepped closer and loomed over the shorter man. “Sent for him,” he repeated.
Cilla let out a sigh of frustration. “We are wasting time.” Gathering her skirts, she spun away from them and hurried up the staircase.
Samuel bounded after her.
John remained, calling up to them, “I will stay here and keep the horses warm.”
Samuel reached the landing first, his longer stride carrying him more quickly up the stairs. He reached for her hand as she caught up with him, but she shrugged him off and raced down the hallway. Her rejection stung, but then he remembered where they were. There would be questions as it was about how Cilla came to be with him. They didn’t need to expose their true relationship to the entire household.
“Samuel!” She signaled to him from outside a bedchamber at the end of the hall. As he sprinted toward her, she went inside the room.
When he got there, Cilla was seated on a stool beside the bed, holding Dolly’s hand. The normally joyful Dolly looked like a pale reflection of herself, her hand limp in Cilla’s, a bandage on her forehead. Her blue eyes, normally full of kindness and good cheer, stared straight ahead, dull and lifeless.
Virgil paced by the bedside, throwing concerned looks at his wife. When Samuel entered the room, some of his tension eased. “Samuel, thank God. You need to go after them. You need to go get my Annabelle.”
“I will.” Samuel stepped up to the bed. “Mrs. Bailey, don’t you worry. I’m going to catch him. I’ll bring your daughter back to you.”
Dolly turned her head and stared at him, a flicker of hope lighting her deadened eyes. “Swear to me.”
“I swear. I won’t let him get away with this.”
“How could we not know?” Her eyes reddened as moisture gathered in the corners. “I thought an earl would be an honorable man. How could we not know of his evil?”
“Some men are very clever,” Cilla said, patting her hand. “Do not blame yourself.”
“I would go myself,” Virgil said, “but Dolly—”
“Stay with your wife,” Samuel said. “Leave Raventhorpe to me.”
“Cilla should go,” Dolly said.
“No, I will stay here with you,” Cilla said, leaning closer.
“No. Do this for me.” Dolly met and held Cilla’s gaze, her blue eyes glittering with intent. “Take care of my baby. She’s going to need a woman with her. Especially if he…if he…” Her voice broke, and tears overflowed.
“There has not been time,” Cilla murmured, patting Dolly’s hand. “He is in a rush to get to Scotland so they can wed. He will not risk stopping.”
Dolly looked at Samuel. “Tell her.”
“She’s right.” Samuel clenched his jaw. “A man can accomplish a lot of things in a moving carriage, and he might decide it’s better to assure that she’s ruined.”
“Samuel!” Cilla bit her lip, glancing with concern at Dolly.
“If I ever get my hands around that varmint’s neck…” Virgil muttered.
“He will pay for this,” Samuel vowed.
“Go with him, Cilla. Please. Take care of my baby. She might need a woman to comfort her, and I can’t be there, not with this stupid leg.”
“All right.” Cilla looked at Virgil. “Are you certain you do not want me to stay here with her?”
“I can take care of my Dolly. You just go fetch my little girl back.”
“Come on. We should leave right now. He’s already got a lead on us.” Samuel grabbed her hand and tugged her from the chair.
“But…should I not…”
“Thank you, Cilla,” Dolly whispered, her expression full of hope.
“Take anything you need,” Virgil said, clapping Samuel on the shoulder.
“I have my carriage, and John knows the way.” Samuel glanced from one to the other. “I will bring her back safely. Come, Mrs. Burke.”
“We will bring her home,” Cilla said. She followed Samuel as he quit the room. Hurrying down the hall to keep up with his long strides, she asked, “Are you certain John knows the way to Gretna Green?”
“Hell yes.” Samuel reached stairs and started down them at a pace that was almost too fast for her to keep up. “He got married there once.”
“Oh.”
Annabelle had come to the conclusion that she would have to do something drastic.
Richard had made one huge mistake in her opinion; he underestimated her. He saw her as a pretty, empty-headed doll like most debutantes. But she wasn’t like that at all. She was an American girl, born and raised to think for herself. But if he was foolish enough not to realize that, she wasn’t about to tell him. No sirree. If he wanted a feather wit, then that’s what she would be.
“I certainly hope you planned for this trip, Richard,” she said. “I simply cannot go without a change of clothing.”
He looked at her in surprise. “We will buy anything you need.”
“Buy! As in factory-made clothing?” She shook her head and clucked her tongue. “I’m an heiress now, and soon to be a countess if you have your way. I simply can’t wear factory-made clothing. We must visit a modiste as soon as possible.”
“Do not be a fool. You will take what I buy you and wear it with pleasure. Or I can keep you naked. It’s your choice.”
A shocked blush warmed her cheeks, but it went with the character she was trying to portray. “Richard! I can’t believe you said that to me!”
“Believe it.” He took in her body with a covetous gaze that made her want to cringe. She fought the urge to wrap the blanket even tighter around her. She had to play his game.
But when this was over, she would scrub her skin raw.
“I can’t imagine how you would explain such a sight to people,” she said finally.
“We would not see any people. Once we’re married, I’m taking you away to one of my other properties so we can be alone.” He chuckled. “I am looking forward to claiming my bride.”
She wanted to say something but could not think of anything suitably dim-witted that would fool him. Not when she wanted to tear into him with her nails until she drew bloo
d. She settled for looking out the curtain again at the passing countryside. The sky burned pink with the setting sun. Soon it would be dark. And Raventhorpe in the dark scared her more than anything.
She settled into her seat and prepared to wait for opportunity.
As the coach sped along the road, Cilla held on, trying not to remember another time when she and Samuel had been alone in his coach, the night he had taught her how to kiss him. So many memories, so many feelings. Would the simplest things always remind her so vividly of Samuel?
“We will catch up to them, Cilla.”
His voice sounded reassuring, but she could see the banked anger in his eyes. She had learned to read him so well. “I hope we are in time. Raventhorpe is unpredictable.”
“I won’t let him have her.”
She looked outside at the passing countryside. “At least it is reasonable to assume that she will not choose Raventhorpe as a husband after this.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
“We need a big favor today.”
“We’ll find them. And if he’s hurt her, he’ll answer to me.”
A gunshot rang out through the night.
Annabelle cried out and squeezed back against the seat. Richard leaned forward, flipping aside the curtain to look out at the road. A large dark object fell past the window, rolling away from the carriage as it sped along.
“That was the bloody coachman!” Raventhorpe leaned out the window, looking up toward the coachman’s box. Then he slid back into the vehicle. “Someone else is driving, and I’m going to find out who.” He pulled out a pistol and held it ready, then met her gaze. “Do not fear for my safety, my darling.”
“I won’t.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, then opened the door and eased out, gripping the side of the vehicle. Clearly he intended to work his way up to the coachman’s seat. Or was he just going to shoot the poor man? Surely that would be suicide for all of them!
She slid across the seat to the other side of the carriage and opened the window there, then stuck out her head. “Watch out! He’s got a gun!”
The driver glanced back at her, but she could not see his face in the dimness of twilight. She ducked back into the carriage and turned to see Richard glaring at her from where he clung to the coach on the opposite side. His sneer promised retribution, but at the moment she was willing to take her chance on the strange driver rather than the familiar earl. Good God, what if she’d married this lunatic?
A shot rang out.
Raventhorpe turned toward the coachman, his expression startled, then lost his grip and fell off into the road. The driver slowed the horses. Moments later the coach came to a halt. Annabelle looked around her but no weapon appeared. Clutching the blanket, she shrank back into the seat and waited.
The door to the coach opened. A man stood there in a black hat and coat, black driving gloves on his hands. He smiled at her, and only then did she realize he wore a mask.
“Well, hello there. You must be another one of Raventhorpe’s collection, destined for some rich pasha’s harem, no doubt.”
“What are you talking about?” She took pride that her voice quivered only a little.
“Raventhorpe. He captures innocent women and sells them as slaves overseas. I assume you are here against your will?”
She nodded, too aghast to speak.
“Then ’tis lucky I came along. Excuse me a moment while I go tie up His Lordship before he makes a nuisance of himself.”
“But…who…?”
“Who am I?” He tipped his hat. “Black Bill. Now stay right there while I take care of business.” He closed the door to the coach.
Annabelle stared at the place where he’d been. Black Bill. Maybe she hadn’t been saved after all.
She scrambled out of the coach. A few yards away, Richard had gotten to his feet and was searching the brush at the side of the road, cursing a blue streak that shocked even her, a girl raised around coal miners. Black Bill approached him at a rapid pace, pistol at the ready.
“Raventhorpe!”
Richard whipped around. Hatred twisted his features. “Black Bill. Damn you!”
“Hands in the air. Step into the middle of the road.”
“Will you murder me here?” Raventhorpe did as the highwayman bade him, then glanced at Annabelle. “In front of my fiancée?”
Black Bill never so much as glanced behind him. “Fiancée, is it? And here I thought she was another one of your victims.”
“I am not betrothed to him,” Annabelle called.
“Annabelle, do not lie simply because you are put out with me,” Richard said, his voice taking on a persuasive tone. “Do you not realize this brigand is going to kill me with the slightest provocation?”
“Annabelle, is it?” Black Bill said. Again, he never looked away from Raventhorpe. “Annabelle Bailey? I had heard you were engaged to this poor excuse for a human being.”
Annabelle lifted her chin and glared at Raventhorpe. “I broke the engagement only today, and that is when he kidnapped me.”
Black Bill laughed. “Ah, now that sounds like the Raventhorpe I know. Jilted you, did she? A smart woman.”
“What now?” Raventhorpe demanded. “Will you kill us both here in the middle of the road?”
“My dear Raventhorpe,” Black Bill said with humor heavy in his voice. “With all the times I have intercepted your victims, have I ever killed anyone?”
“Actually no.” A sly expression crossed Raventhorpe’s face. His hands lowered an inch or so.
Black Bill tensed. “Do not try it. Just because I have not killed you yet does not mean I do not dream of doing so every day of my existence.”
Raventhorpe froze. “What have I done to you that you would hate me so?”
“Someday I will tell you the tale. But not today. Miss Bailey?”
“Yes?”
“There should be some rope under the coachman’s seat. Do you think you can fetch it and bring it here?”
Richard jerked his gaze to Annabelle, and she smiled. “Yes.”
Raventhorpe’s mouth fell open. Black Bill laughed as Annabelle hurried to do as he requested. “Do you think this girl is a fool, Raventhorpe? If so, then you are even more so.”
“You speak like a gentleman,” Raventhorpe said, his eyes narrowing.
“So do you, but we all know what you are, don’t we?” Annabelle arrived with the rope. “Do you feel comfortable tying up His Lordship, Miss Bailey?”
“Absolutely.” Annabelle marched forward. “Put your hands behind you, Richard.”
Raventhorpe glared at her, and ice splintered through her as she caught a true glimpse of the evil that lurked behind his lordly demeanor.
“Do as she says,” Black Bill said. He aimed at Raventhorpe’s leg. “I am told a shattered kneecap is most painful.”
Raventhorpe stiffened, then slowly complied.
“Have a care, Miss Bailey,” Black Bill said. “He would not be above trying to grab you and use you as a hostage.”
“Thank you for the warning, sir,” Annabelle said. She quickly wrapped the rope around the earl’s wrists, then tied a knot and pulled the ends hard. The earl flinched. “Oh, did I hurt you, Richard? Good.”
Black Bill chuckled as Annabelle moved away from the earl. “She’s a feisty one, Raventhorpe. Too bad you did not realize the treasure you had in her while you had it. Now turn around.”
Raventhorpe shuffled around so he faced away from the highwayman. “Will you shoot me in the back, coward that you are?”
“Only if you do something foolish.” Black Bill examined Annabelle’s handiwork, then cast her a smile. “An excellent knot, Miss Bailey. Where did you learn to tie so well?”
“I lived on a farm my whole life, and I was engaged to a sea captain.”
“Excellent. Raventhorpe, down on your knees.”
The earl obeyed with some awkwardness. “I will have the magistrate on you, you bastard. You have made a grave m
istake treating me like this. Or perhaps you do not realize this is my land?”
“Of course I realize it is your land, my lord fool. I only work on your properties. That is the purpose of a vendetta.”
“Vendetta? Damn you, what have I ever done to you? I do not even know who you are!”
“As I said, someday I will tell you the tale. Perhaps at your hanging.” The highwayman approached Raventhorpe and put the barrel of his weapon against the earl’s temple with one hand while he searched Raventhorpe’s pockets with the other. “Let me see, where is it? Oh, I see. You’re still wearing it.” He slipped a ring from the earl’s finger.
“Bloody thief!”
Black Bill laughed. “I am a highwayman, you know.” Without turning away from his captive, he held up a ring. “Do you see this, Miss Bailey?”
“Yes.”
“Taking a page from the Borgias, are you, Raventhorpe?” Black Bill pressed the ring against Raventhorpe’s neck. A moment later the earl fell forward, unconscious.
“What have you done to him?” Annabelle cried.
Black Bill walked over to her and handed her the ring. “Have you seen this before?”
“Yes, it is Richard’s family insignia. A dragon.”
“He coats the claws of the dragon with a drug that induces sleep. It is how he takes his victims.”
Annabelle jerked with shock and dropped the ring. “He did that to me. Something pricked my arm and then I awoke in the coach.”
“The effects do not last long, apparently. Just long enough for him to transfer his captives.” Mouth pressed in a grim line, Black Bill picked up the ring and wrapped it in his handkerchief. Tying it safely with a knot, he slipped the bundle into his pocket.
Annabelle folded her arms around herself, realizing suddenly that she stood in the middle of the road with a thief who a few moments ago had seemed a better alternative than Richard, but now…well, he was a highwayman. “What do you intend for me?”
Black Bill grinned. “I mean you no harm, Miss Bailey. Truth be told, I knew who you were when I came after you. Your father sent a note around to Captain Breedlove’s inn to summon him, and word got back to me.”
Relief shuddered through her. “Samuel is coming?”
Tempting a Proper Lady Page 27
