A Scorching Dilemma

by Shereen Vedam

  “Why did they not take her, too? Or kill her?” Miss Wood asked. “She is a witness to a serious crime.”

  He sat a moment to think. Then he handed the reins back to Miss Wood and jumped out. A careful look at the pathway showed fresh tracks of another carriage, one that had sat ahead of the place where Faith’s carriage now rested.

  “What are you doing?” Mrs. Hutchinson asked, following him as he crouched to study the dirt road.

  Daniel ignored her. Footsteps showed two people had boarded the second waiting carriage. More importantly, those tracks told him that it was heading in the opposite direction, not toward Morton Manor as Mrs. Hutchinson had indicated.

  With grim purpose, he took her by the arm and drew her to the middle of the road.

  “Sir, I demand you not handle me in such a rude manner. I am not merely a servant, but the Duke of Burley’s relation. He will be displeased that you treat me so rudely.”

  “I wonder how pleased he will be to find out you played a part in his daughter’s abduction?”

  “How dare you say such a thing? I am devoted to Lady Faith. If I could have saved her, I would have.”

  Daniel pointed to the tracks. “Then why lie about the direction in which they left?”

  The lady hesitated. “I was confused, perhaps. It all happened so quickly. I might have been mistaken.”

  “And why did they not harm you?” He examined her hands. She wore a ring of gold with a sapphire that sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. “Or take that?”

  She snatched her hands back. “How dare you question me?”

  Daniel pulled the reticule off her arm. Against her vehement protests, he dumped its contents on the packed earthen road. A bound roll of bank notes fell out, along with some coins and a handkerchief.

  “How dare you, sir!”

  He picked up the notes before she could grab it.

  “For a paid companion, you do not seem short of the ready. Do you always travel with such a large sum?”

  “You have no right to question me.” Her voice shook.

  Daniel rose to face her. “The evidence suggests you may have been in league with these kidnappers. You will be lucky if you are not hanged for this. However, if you do not tell me where they have taken Lady Faith, you need not fear the hangman’s noose,” he finished in a quiet deadly voice. “For I warn you, you will not survive the hour.”

  She scrambled toward the Burley’s carriage. Her frightened gaze swung from Daniel to Miss Wood.

  The librarian stared up at the trees with great interest, as if she had not heard the implied threat.

  “On the Great North Road toward Scotland,” the woman said. “He takes her to Gretna Green.”

  Where a quick marriage could be arranged without the need for a license or the posting of banns.

  “Who is ‘he’?”

  “Mr. Charles Granger,” she whispered.

  The answer did not surprise him. From the first moment Faith mentioned that man’s name, he had known Granger lusted after her. Terrified for Faith’s safety, Daniel returned to his carriage and swung the horse around.

  As they passed Mrs. Hutchinson, Miss Wood called out, “I suggest you leave England promptly.”

  “But, how?” The woman ran after them. “I have no money. Give me back my notes and I promise to go.”

  “Consider the funds your donation toward helping us retrieve Lady Faith,” Daniel called back. Then he drove on, leaving the genteel woman screaming obscenities after them.

  FAITH GAVE UP trying to sit up on her seat after the fourth time she was tossed off. The carriage moved fast and, with her arms tied behind her, she was unable to balance herself. Instead, she remained crouched on the floor. Her shoulders and arms ached, and her jaw was taut from biting the rag Granger had stuffed into her mouth. A cloth wound tight around the bottom half of her face and knotted behind her head held the rag in place, effectively muffling her cries. She tried not to cry, because she could only breathe through her nose and crying made it difficult.

  They had traveled far enough that the roads were no longer cobbled. Now, the movement of the carriage on dirt tracks jostled her. It was an age since she had heard other carriages trundle past. They must be traveling through the countryside. The movement of the sun’s rays slanting in through a slit in the dark window curtains suggested they headed north.

  Granger rode up top and gave curt instructions to the driver about which road to take, how fast to go, and when to stop as they sped along rutted dusty country roads. Before each change of horses or a stop at a turnpike, he entered the carriage and rammed a loaded pistol against her temple while the coachman went about his business.

  He took great care to ensure he was never alone with her for long. Though Faith was grateful for his absence, she remained fearful about his intensions. If seducing her was not his plan, why had he captured her? And where was he taking her?

  Several hours into their journey and desperately needing a rest stop, she banged on the door with her booted foot. The carriage came to halt and he opened the door to glare at her. She gave him a stony expression. Even if she could speak, she was too mortified to mouth her request.

  He had the gall to smirk. He ordered the postilion and coachman to move to the other side of the carriage before he untied her hands and allowed her to descend and walk into the bushes to relieve herself. But the bounder stood nearby the whole time, pistol at the ready, to ensure she did not run away. He was quick to bind her hands again before he led her back to her seat, all without speaking a single word.

  Though cringing that she needed such a personal favor, Faith was glad to be able to finally travel with a modicum of comfort.

  The sun was setting, leaving the inside of the carriage in darkness. She had nothing to look at, but a great deal to brood over. The manner in which she had been captured rankled. How could Mrs. Hutchinson have betrayed her? Even if they had not been related, Faith’s parents had given the woman a home and a good position. That should have counted for something.

  Before leaving the house, Faith had asked her companion to inform her father that they were going to Morton’s estate. Obviously, that message had not been delivered. Thankfully, Faith had also sent a letter to Lady Roselyn with Elsie. Once news reached her friend that Faith was missing, Lady Roselyn would inform Faith’s father of his daughter’s plans. Then what? They would see the Duchess of Morton, who would quite honestly say that Faith had been there and left. Not that any of this speculation mattered.

  The carriage stopped and she overheard Granger say to the groom that they would use his family’s horses the next time. That surprised and worried Faith.

  It suggested that he must have arranged for horses to await their arrival here. If so, this abduction had been planned well in advance. But that made no sense. She had not decided to visit Morton until that morning.

  Unless this posting house was near a Morton estate. If so, horses might have been stabled here, in case they were needed.

  The door opened, letting in a gush of cold air. Granger stepped inside carrying a lighted lantern. She squinted at the glare of light and shuffled away from him, leaning against the opposite seat. She watched him warily as he hung up the lantern.

  As if the gag was not enough of a deterrent, he pointed his pistol at her temple and held a finger to his lips.

  Once the carriage moved, he gestured to the food basket. All day, he had offered her something to eat. But she adamantly refused to surrender to the distasteful experience of having him hand-feed her. He shrugged nonchalantly and took a bite of a chicken leg and chewed, thoroughly enjoying his meal.

  Villain. Faith ignored the enticing aroma, but a protest began to poke at her empty gullet. She would have to yield sooner or later. Later had not arrived yet.

  He licked his fingers, and Fait
h’s mouth watered. She bit her rag hard to keep herself from losing all pride and pleading with him for a bite of a chicken leg.

  The team exchange completed, the carriage trundled forward. Faith counted the minutes, waiting for Granger to leave. He finally did, taking the only light with him, but left the aroma-enticing basket behind. As they rolled forward, she released a gag-muted scream and kicked the food basket in frustrated fury.

  About an hour later, as the vehicle took a sharp turn, she glanced out the curtain slit and noticed a wavering light ahead in the darkness. Shortly after, the conveyance slowed and stopped. Had they arrived at another inn?

  Gates creaked open and the carriage continued along a darkened roadway. The wheels clattered as dirt road gave way to cobblestones and her heartbeat sped up. They were approaching a building. So why had Granger not come inside with his pistol?

  Had he forgotten? The carriage stopped and Faith raised her feet to bang on the door. But before she could do it, the door opened. At sight of Granger, Faith scrambled backward. He grabbed her feet and hauled her toward him.

  Faith kicked and squirmed, but the brute was too strong to fight off with her hands bound.

  “Stop struggling and I will release you.”

  In the process of kicking him in the shin, Faith stopped.

  He set her on her feet but held her at arm’s length, suggesting her repeated strikes had made their intended impact. Too bad her calf boots were not steel-tipped. Warily, she looked around. This was a country estate, not an inn. The surrounding hills were dark, with no lights to indicate any other houses nearby.

  Several liveried servants rushed outside. This was the first time since leaving London that she had seen another person besides her captor. She tried to catch their gazes but all the servants avoided looking directly at her. She might as well be invisible. Did their master arrive with a bound and gagged woman every day, that they could show such callous disregard?

  “If you hope to gain their sympathy,” Granger whispered against her ear, “you waste your time.” His breath was hot, moist, and smelled of alcohol. “They are loyal to the family and know that what I do is on their master’s orders.”

  She had stopped struggling, but he had not untied her as promised. He was obviously a villain and a liar.

  He dragged her to the front doors by way of a grand entrance bordered by iconic columns.

  An older man hurried outside to greet them.

  “Is her chamber ready?” Granger asked.

  The servant guided them up wide marble stairs.

  “Are you impressed with your future home?” After she stumbled on the stairs the second time, Granger swung her up in his arms. “This estate is our family’s pride.”

  Faith struggled, but her captor merely tightened his hold.

  “Come, Lady Faith. Is this any way for a bride to act?”

  Faith shied from that implied peril. Dear Lord, help me.

  Once inside a bedchamber, he set her on her feet and untied the cloth binding her mouth, but kept a firm hold on her arm.

  She spit out the rag and glanced around for either a possible escape route or a means of defense. The room was lavishly furnished, with a four-poster bed draped in velvet and two large scenic tapestries hanging on the walls. There were no swords or hearth tools lying about. In one corner, a settee and two chairs were arranged cozily together. The chairs looked small enough to wield. But what caught her attention, however, were the bars on the windows.

  “I hope you find your accommodation adequate?” he said, nodding to the bars. “When the late duke’s first wife became ill, my mother, her nurse, suggested those be added to ensure her mistress did not jump out during one of her deliriums. I am sure they will act as a similar deterrent for you.”

  “Be assured, sir, that your vile plan will fail.” With chin raised, Faith faced him. “I shall never marry you.”

  “Marry me?” His eyebrow rose with feigned surprise. “No, no, my dear. You mistake the matter.” Calmly, he turned her to face away from him and undid the knots binding her wrists. “It is Morton you are to marry, or had you forgotten?”

  Freed, Faith ignored the tingling in her shoulders, and ran across the room until a chair separated her from her captor. “I do not believe you. Morton would never force me. He is a gentleman. This is one of your schemes, sir, not his.”

  He shrugged. “I am my brother’s keeper. Can you blame me for seeing to his needs?”

  Another lie. “That is not what your mother intimated.”

  “Did she spill our plan?” His brow cleared and he smiled. “No, not mother. But you are a clever girl, Lady Faith. I can see you have worked it out.” His tone softened, along with his smile. “We should not be at odds. I mean you no harm.”

  His gray gaze slid down her figure. That hungry look brought her fears racing to the surface. “I will never agree to any debauchery of a marriage with Morton.”

  He raised a mildly inquiring eyebrow. “Even if your parents’ lives were at stake?”

  Faith’s blood chilled. “What do you mean?”

  “If your father sipped tea tainted with a drop from one of my mother’s plants, how long would he survive? I estimate, no more than a day. Mama’s poisons are most potent.”

  “You would not dare!”

  “No, I would not,” he agreed with a placating smile. “But my mother will. She is very protective of my interests.”

  Faith shuddered. “Despite what you or your mother say or do, Morton is a decent man. He would not marry me if I did not wish it. And even if you force this marriage upon us, he would never allow you to violate me.”

  He strode around the chair she used as her shield and she scuttled around another one.

  He tossed that across the room and it shattered against a tall floor vase, sending shards flying.

  Faith cried out and shielded her face.

  “Until you marry my brother, your virtue is sacrosanct.” He held her a breath away. “There must be no hint that your child is anyone’s but Morton’s. But, be not mistaken, my dear. After your marriage, you will spend every night in my arms until a son is born. For all intents and purposes, you will be my wife. And Morton will obey me in this regard. Else he will face the same fate as his father and he well knows it. He may hold the title, but I am the man in this family!”

  Hearing what she had only suspected defined so explicitly made Faith’s stomach churn and bile rise up in her throat, hot and acrid. With difficulty, she swallowed it down, reeling as a part of Granger’s threatening words registered.

  Face the same fate as his father? What could he mean? About to ask, Faith bit her tongue, unwilling to provoke this madman with questions. This was not the time for bravery.

  He smiled, as if he took her silence as acceptance of her circumstances. “You are tired. We shall speak again come morn, before continuing our trip to Gretna. Sweet dreams, Lady Faith.”

  He bowed and left. The key turned and his footsteps receded.

  Chapter Thirteen

  MISS WOOD MUST have realized that once Daniel found Faith, she would need to have a female companion on her way home. Because when he offered to arrange a ride home for her with a next stagecoach, she firmly refused. Daniel had not pressed the matter. He worried about any time taken away from following Faith and her abductor.

  At each stop at a turnpike or posting house, he asked about a carriage bearing the Morton crest. He also inquired about anyone matching Granger’s description or if someone had caught sight of Faith. No one had seen her. Or Granger.

  There was news, however, of a lone driver of a carriage with curtains drawn. Since the driver said he traveled alone, and no one else had disembarked demanding drinks or food, people took him at his word.

  Miss Wood was certain that this carriage, which was an hour ahead of t
hem, was most likely the one transporting Faith to the border. Daniel agreed it was their best lead. However, after two hours on that trail, there was no sign of the other carriage. Hoping he had not lost them, he stopped a foot traveler.

  The farmer said he had seen that shrouded carriage, but it had two men riding outside, not one. The second hefty man he described sounded a great deal like Granger. Daniel cracked his whip, anxious to catch up with his quarry.

  At their fourth stop since leaving London, a young postboy said he had been on a second closed carriage. This one bore the Morton crest and was a half hour behind the first vehicle. His description of the passengers fit the Duke of Morton and his mother.

  “I do not like it,” Miss Wood said once they traveled on. “Is the entire family behind this mad caper, or is the Duke of Morton attempting to stop his brother from running away with his bride-to-be?”

  “I pray it is the latter,” Daniel said in a tight voice. “But I fear Morton is easily cowed by his mother, who seemed to me much in favor of her elder son’s wishes.”

  She clasped her hands together, the knuckles looking white in the late afternoon light.

  Even with a fresh horse, Daniel was unable to gain on either vehicle, since both were drawn by two horses and his was pulled by only one.

  “At least we can be fairly certain that we are on the right trail, sir,” Miss Wood said.

  The possibility that Granger had forced himself on Faith was the unspoken fear in both of their minds.

  Hours passed. After two more changes of horses, sunset was painting the road ahead in vibrant hues.

  “Mr. Trenton,” Miss Wood said, “is there any hope we will catch them before daybreak?”

  How could he respond to that? In choosing to stay with him, Miss Wood now faced the same dilemma Faith did. She would not be able to return to Lady Roselyn’s townhouse until the morrow. Did she worry for her reputation as much as he did Faith’s? If so, it was the librarian’s kindness and his thoughtlessness that had put her in this situation.

  Miss Wood had a good heart. He glanced at her prim spectacles that always made him smile. Aside from her one sad propensity for reading, and then wanting to talk incessantly about whatever she had learned, she was not a bad sort. Her dark hair, normally neatly tied into a tight knot, had come loose, allowing a few wisps to dance in the wind.