Julian studied the woman, not quite sure how to take her. Although her words were what he’d expected from such a high-and-mighty woman, her tone of voice still lacked confidence, as did her gaze. Her eyes were downcast and she rarely looked at him.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but this cottage was supposed to have been stocked. I assure you, I’ll take care of the matter after I feed you.”
He turned back to the bread. Taking the pot from the fire, he slowly carried it to the cooking table, and placed it on top. He used a knife to cut out chunks of the bread, careful not to burn his fingers.
He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to his friend, Dominic Lawrence, Marquess of Hawthorne. The marquess was supposed to have a servant stock the small cottage in preparation for the kidnapping. Where was his friend now? If it wasn’t for Dominic, Julian wouldn’t have suspected Martin of killing his family—at least for a few months. The marquess had watched Martin since he took over his title, and Dominic had become suspicious of the newly awarded earl’s actions. Julian didn’t know what he’d do without his friend and the assistance he had offered in catching the murderous cousin.
“We’ll make do without dishes,” he grumbled, keeping his eyes on the bread. “Sit at the table and I’ll serve you.”
Silence filled the room. He couldn’t even hear the countess breathing. Panic gripped his chest and he swung around, looking for her. She was gone!
How long had it been since he’d last spoken to her? Blast it all! He couldn’t remember. But he shouldn’t fear because she wouldn’t have gotten very far.
He dropped the knife onto the table before rushing out of the room. The pain in his leg returned, and he gritted his teeth. Yet, he couldn’t worry about his injury now.
Keeping his ears in check, he listened for any sounds that would tell him where she’d gone. The front door was open. That was an indicator of where she was headed.
He quickly limped outside, stopped, and scoped his surroundings. His knee throbbed and he rubbed it, praying the pain would disappear soon. Where’s my horse? There was no way the countess would have had time to mount by herself in just a few minutes, and if she had, he would still be able to see her.
He whistled for his horse. By now, the animal knew when to come to his master. Immediately, he heard the animal’s neigh and he swung his head toward the sound. The horse was grazing in a nearby pasture...without the countess. Would she have been so foolish to try and escape on foot?
The fine animal raised his head and trotted toward Julian, stopping close by. He stroked the horse’s mane as he glanced around the area. Where could she have gone?
“Countess, you may as well come out now. It’s impossible for you to get very far. If you haven’t realized, we are quite a distance in the country.”
Slowly, he walked away from the horse. He looked behind each bush that passed him. Irritation grew inside him as the minutes ticked by. She really couldn’t have gone far.
“If you insist on making me look for you,” he said in a louder voice, “my anger will only worsen, and I can assure you, that’s not something you will enjoy.”
He stopped and waited, trying to adjust his hearing. Within seconds, twigs snapped behind him and suddenly, there was a sharp point jabbing the middle of his back. He stiffened.
“I haven’t gone anywhere. Yet,” she said roughly. Her voice was almost foreign. “But I have a knife and I know how to use it. I suggest you take me back to the estate immediately.”
Inwardly, he groaned. This just could not be happening!
FOUR
Even though Julian didn’t think she stammered as she’d done so far since meeting her, the tone of her voice shook. Her words were strong, but obviously, she was still one very frightened young lady.
This wasn’t the first time someone had held a knife to his back, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Releasing a heavy sigh of defeat, he raised his hands in surrender. “It appears you’re in control now, Countess. I suppose I have no choice but to comply with your demands.”
He gave her only three seconds to experience the powerful feeling she thought she held. Because he’d been in this situation before, he knew her arm would relax and she’d lower the knife from his back. Just as he figured, the pressure from the tip of the knife lessened. Taking advantage of the moment, he swung around and grasped her wrist. She screamed and the knife dropped. He yanked her against him. As the front part of her body touched his, she gasped. His leg throbbed with pain, but he tried his best to ignore the discomfort.
Her wide, frightened eyes stared at him, framed by a pale face. He shouldn’t have scared her, yet he must let her know who was in control...and it wasn’t the high and mighty Countess of Linden. The lesson he was teaching her was one he was sure she’d never forget. By the look of her expression, he highly doubted she’d be pulling this stunt on him again.
For a split second, guilt streaked through him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have treated her as the other people who had tried to pull a weapon on him. She was a naïve woman who had been protected all of her life. He needed to keep that in mind in case of future incidents. She was as delicate as a flower, and smelled just as delectable. For some odd reason, she fit remarkably well in his arms and against his body. So soft—even though she was trembling.
Silently, he cursed. He could not have these feelings for his cousin’s wife. He’d kidnapped her for one purpose only, and lusting after her was not on that list.
“Now, my little countess,” he said in a softer voice, sweeping a finger across her pale cheek as he pushed back a stray lock of hair, “shall we return to the kitchen and feed you?”
Her body quaked, and she nodded.
He kept her in his arms as he led her into the house and into the kitchen. She stumbled a couple of times, but he suspected she wouldn’t gain her full strength for a few more minutes. “Let’s sit you down right here before you end up on the floor.” He helped her to the table, continuing to hold both of her wrists in his large hand. “Now, if I let you go, will you be a good countess and stay seated?”
Her head nodded quickly.
“Very well then.”
He released her and stepped back to the baker’s counter. He picked up the knife, turned back to the bread, and cut a chunk out of it. Using the kettle’s lid as a plate, he brought it to the table and set it down. Pointing to the bread, he said, “Eat.”
He turned from her again and moved to the kettle heating the water. At least there was a tea kettle and cup—but only one. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t hungry, anyway. He swiftly prepared the tea and placed the cup in front of her, noticing she had eaten half of the slice of bread already.
Standing back, he folded his arms and scowled. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long before she confessed what her husband was up to. Julian didn’t really blame her for wanting to be Countess of Linden—most women coveted that title and had tried to seduce his older brother just to get it—but this woman would soon discover she’d married the wrong man. Martin would not make a good earl, and as long as Julian was alive, he’d make certain his cousin would never kill another person again.
It would be difficult to convince the duchess that she needed to tell Julian the truth. He suspected she didn’t know her husband was a murderer, but she would be able to tell Julian what he needed to know: where Martin had been during the days of his brother’s and father’s death—and of Julian’s accident—and what men Martin had met with and paid off for assisting with these deaths. The countess had married Martin before he stepped into his new title, so she ought to know something about her husband’s crooked lifestyle.
Julian prayed she’d give him the answers he needed soon. He’d never lowered himself to kidnap anyone before, and he could tell already that this particular woman would sorely try his patience.
It took several minutes, but soon she’d eaten her chunk of bread and finished her tea. Slowly, she stood and squared her shoulders.
“I...th
ank you for the food,” she said, her eyes downcast as she clasped her hands against her middle.
Julian arched an eyebrow. She was thanking him? What game was she trying to play this time?
She took a deep breath and brought her gaze up to meet his. “Now, would you please tell me why you have kidnapped me?”
“No, not yet. I need some time to think, and you need some time to worry about what I’m going to do with you.” He motioned to the hall. “Shall I show you to your room now?”
Her face paled and she nodded. He escorted her up the stairs and to the room that would serve as her bedchamber as long as he held her prisoner.
As they walked inside, she held a grim expression, just as she’d done when they’d first entered the kitchen. Julian realized this room wouldn’t compare to her bedchamber at Linden Hall, but at least he had provided her with a bed, a decent mattress, and a few blankets. There was one small end table to hold a lamp.
After he adjusted the lamp and brightened the room, he pointed to the bed. “Forgive me, Countess, for not having more accommodations for you, but this will just have to suffice.”
She nodded and quickly wiped away a tear he hadn’t noticed before. Another wave of guilt swept over him, and he pushed back the feeling, reminding himself that he was not at fault for any of this. She was, as well as his cousin, Martin.
Julian left the room, closed and locked the door, before returning downstairs.
The cottage had been abandoned for several years, but Dominic had promised Julian it would be in tip-top shape. He didn’t have a problem living in squalor, only because when he had first moved away and became a police inspector, there were days that he was forced to camp out under the stars at night, and hunt for his own food. He realized that these times had given him skills—skills he’d need for this very occasion.
Though his leg pained him, and he should sit and try to relax, he couldn’t. His thoughts were in turmoil, his body restless. He moved around the small living room and kitchen, straightening things and getting it as clean as possible.
He was thankful for his friend, Dominic. Lord Hawthorne had been a godsend of late. As young lads, they weren’t very close, but they seemed to frequent the same socials before Julian went off to be a police inspector. Right after his father and brother were killed, Julian received a letter from Dominic informing him of his family’s deaths and about the peculiar activities that Martin had been up to before assuming the role as the earl.
If not for Dominic, Julian wouldn’t be here right now trying to find proof against his cousin. It had been the marquees’ idea to hide out on the estate and keep watch over Martin and his wife. Julian knew without a doubt that between the two of them, they’d find the evidence necessary to put Martin away and let the magistrate deal with him.
Julian finished with the cleaning and stood back to study the two rooms again. They looked much better, but he still needed to find dishes for the kitchen. He had no idea how long they would stay here. It all depended upon the duchess and how much information she would give him.
Julian moved to the stairs and glanced up, listening for any sounds. The longer he stood concentrating, the more he heard the woman’s soft sobs. Just as before, guilt clenched his chest. Perhaps it was time he brought her back down and grilled her about her husband.
He hurried up the stairs and opened the door. She was lying on the bed with her back toward him. Surprisingly, she didn’t move. For some reason, he’d expected more from her—more anger, and definitely more of that viper tongue he’d heard so much about.
“I’m ready to talk,” he said. “Come downstairs and I’ll tell you why I’ve kidnapped you.”
She rolled off the bed and stood. Wiping her moist eyes, she walked straight past and down the stairs, not even bothering to look at him. He followed closely behind her.
She entered the room in front of the cottage and stopped nearby the fireplace. Her attention swung toward him for only a second before she shifted her eyes to the slow burning embers in the hearth.
Irritation ran through him. Why didn’t she want to look at him? How could he carry on a conversation with her if she wouldn’t meet his eyes? It would be nearly impossible to study her reactions otherwise.
“There are only a few answers that I need from you,” he began. “If I’m satisfied with what you tell me, I’ll return you back to your home. It’s as simple as that.”
Finally, she brought her gaze up to him, her eyes wide. “That’s all I have to do?”
“Indeed, that is all.”
“Then pray, please ask these questions so we can soon be on our way home.”
He almost chuckled from her response. She seemed to think it would be that easy. She was definitely in for a rude awakening.
“Fine.” He took another step toward the fireplace since she made no move to sit on the couch. “I want to know...” He paused, carefully placing his words so he made sense. “Where was your husband this past March, on the thirteenth day?”
Her head tilted slightly. “My husband?”
“Yes. Martin Hinsdale.”
A smirk grew on her mouth, and surprisingly, her sapphire eyes sparkled with humor. “I’m afraid you are mistaken, Mr. Grey. Martin Hinsdale is not my husband. He’s married to my sister.”
He waved his hand. “I’m not Mister Grey, just Grey.” Then it struck him what she’d said after that. “And don’t try lying to me, Countess. I know Martin married Miss Templeton.”
“Yes, he did. He married Joanna Templeton. I’m Alexandria, her younger sister.”
Studying the woman, panic grew inside him. No! He couldn’t have taken the wrong sister. She was exactly how his friend, Dominic, described her. Blonde hair, slender, lovely, but with the tongue of a viper. Well, the lady he’d taken had most of these traits, although he still questioned the sharp tongue.
“I don’t believe you.” He shook his head. “If you are the younger sister, then what are you doing living at the estate with your sister and her new husband?”
The woman shrugged, holding up her hands. “I came with the marriage deal. Joanna didn’t want to leave me behind because I had no other family to stay with.”
Julian shook his head. “Martin would have never agreed to something like that.”
Her expression quickly turned to one of sadness. He liked it better when there was a hint of a smile on her face instead of the frown and misty eyes.
“That would probably explain why earlier this morning he had told me he was going to find me a husband who would take me off his hands.” Her throat jumped in what appeared to be a hard swallow. “When you found me in the group of trees, I had been crying, correct?”
“Uh...yes, I believe I did hear you crying.”
“Because Martin had just given me the startling blow.”
“Impossible.” Frustrated, Julian ran his fingers through his hair and paced the floor. He wouldn’t accept this possibility. If he had stolen the wrong sister, then he wouldn’t get any answers at all...and he wouldn’t believe he’d done all of this for naught. He stopped his pacing and looked at her again. “Why are you lying to me? You are the woman my friend described to me. You are Martin’s wife.”
“I do resemble Joanna quite a bit, but if it’s Joanna you’re after, she’s been in her room for the past five days. She’s been extremely ill and hasn’t moved from her bed.”
“Five days, you say?” His hopes dropped even lower. He’d only been spying on the estate, trying to figure out a way to kidnap the countess for the last three days. Perhaps this is the reason he’d only seen this woman.
“Yes. Five days exactly.”
Groaning, he scrubbed his hands over his face. If only he had waited for Dominic to join him, but no, Julian was too impatient and needed to kidnap the woman immediately. He certainly had a mess on his hands now. For once in his life, he didn’t know how to fix this mistake.
ALEXANDRIA WRUNG HER hands as she watched Grey closely. Her captor was o
n the edge of admitting defeat, she could feel it. Apparently, he’d meant to kidnap Joanna. That could be why he’d referred to Alexandria as Countess, or My Lady. Well, now that the truth was out, would he return her back to the estate? She didn’t dare hope, but she needed to encourage him to do so, nonetheless. If anything, her sister needed her, especially since Joanna was so ill.
“Mr. Grey...I mean, Grey? What is it you need my sister for? To ask her questions as well?”
He dropped his hands as his stare stuck to her. “Yes. I need answers from your sister, unless, of course, you know them.”
Her mind went back to the question he’d asked her about March thirteenth. Could she possibly remember where Martin had been on that day? Probably not, but she was willing to try. “Do you want me to try and recall Martin’s whereabouts on March thirteenth?”
Slowly, he nodded. His eyes grew wide and stayed on her. It was uncomfortable to have the close scrutiny of such a handsome man, but if helping him was the only way he would take her back home, she’d do it.
She turned her head and stared into the fireplace again. She could think better without looking into his mesmerizing green eyes.
“Martin would have probably been gone a sennight,” he said.
Sometime in the middle of March was when Martin would have been gone. Her sister married the man the last part of January. Martin had stayed at their small country estate until the end of March when he took over as earl...
Inhaling quickly, she swung her head to Grey. Excitement bubbled in her chest in remembrance. “Martin was indeed gone a sennight. Joanna had told me he was trying to locate them a house to live. That would have been in the middle of March.”
A whoosh of air escaped Grey’s mouth and a smile stretched across his mouth. “Splendid.”
“Is that all?” she asked.
“No, but it’s a good start.”
She wondered why this man was so interested in her brother-in-law. It was obvious that her captor didn’t like Martin very much, either. Another thing she couldn’t understand was whether or not she should fear Mr. Grey. Obviously, his issue was with Martin and not her. “Sir? May I ask what crime Martin has committed against you?”
Stealing the Duchess Page 3