Regency Hearts Boxed Set

by Jennifer Monroe

  “Whatcha wanna drink?” the man asked as he rested his hands on the counter.

  She cleared her throat. “I am here to collect a letter for Jane Covington,” she said, remembering to add the gruffness to her voice.

  The landlord snorted. “Sorry. Don’t know what you’re on about. Besides, you don’t look like no Jane to me.”

  Caroline was unsure what to do. She could not give away who she was, but what else could she do? She moved the hat back on her head and moved in closer so he could see her face. Then she lowered her voice, keeping out the gruffness this time. “I am Jane Covington,” she said. “And I would like my letter.”

  His eyes went wide, and then he let out a boisterous laugh. “I get it now,” he said. Then he reached under the counter and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which he placed on the counter in front of her. With trembling hands, she managed to open the letter only to find the paper blank. Was this some sort of game? Had Oliver already been taken away, or had the kidnappers changed their mind?

  Then hot breath on her neck made her heart congeal. “Good disguise,” a voice whispered in her ear. “Ye fooled me.”

  She went to turn, but he placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Not so quick,” he said, the menacing tone in his voice making her shiver. “Ye got the money?”

  “Yes,” she replied, surprised at how calm she sounded. “Where is my son?”

  “Close. Now, listen here. This is what yer gonna to do. Yer gonna head right in a moment through that back door.”

  Caroline glanced around until the door came into view.

  “I left my horse waiting, and ye and me’re going to ride out to your son. Don’t look back at me or try’n call out for help.”

  “I will obey,” she said. “I just want my son.”

  He chuckled. “Smart woman. Now, get going.”

  She made her way to the back door, and she could sense the man behind her. No matter how hard she tried, she could not still her pounding heart, and she wondered how she could move on sluggish legs. They walked past a man who gave her a glance, and for a moment she hoped he would see the fear on her face. However, he walked past her without so much as a greeting, and her heart fell.

  When they walked through the door, the sunlight blinded her, and she stopped and blinked.

  He pushed her forward. “Get on with ye,” he hissed.

  She nodded and walked up to the only horse tied behind the building, a black stallion.

  The man tossed a young boy, who was sitting on a barrel playing with a cat, a coin. “Ye ain’t seen me, ye hear?”

  The boy eyed the coin and gave the man a smirk. “No, Mister. I ain’t seen nothing or no one.”

  Seeing the boy brought about thoughts of Oliver. “Is my son nearby?” Caroline asked and then nearly cried out as a hand grabbed the back of her neck and squeezed hard.

  “Don’t speak unless I tell ye to,” the man growled. “Now, get up there!”

  She managed to mount the horse, and the man pulled himself up behind her after he tied the bag of money behind the saddle.

  “Right. It’s time to go.”

  With a flick of the reins, he set the horse in motion. She glanced toward the tree where she was supposed to meet Philip, although she could not see it, and fear gripped her. Would he wonder where she was when she did not arrive as planned?

  “Money and a Duchess,” the man said in her ear. “I think I’m gonna have some fun tonight.”

  Caroline could only force down the fear inside her and trust that Philip would find her. And soon.

  ***

  As they made their way out of the village, Caroline no longer noticed the warmth of the day, or anything that was around them for that matter. Fear gripped her as they entered the forest. They were on the opposite side from where she had left Philip, and that scared her more than ever, for Philip would have no idea where she was. Would he somehow learn that she had been taken? Yet, how would he have known? The landlord of The Silver Sickle knew she was a woman, but not he, nor any other man in the tavern, had taken notice of what had transpired between her and this man. Or they had ignored it.

  In her heart, she knew her son would not be where they were going. This man meant to kill her and take the money. What would happen to Oliver?

  That single question cleared her head. She could not count on Philip to find her, or Oliver, in time, so it was left up to her to keep her wits about her. If she was unable to escape the clutches of this man at this moment, she would keep her eyes open for the most opportune time to steal away. The man had to sleep, did he not?

  “Ye sure are a pretty one,” the man said in her ear. “And yer a Duchess?”

  Caroline raised her chin. She would not allow this miscreant to win. When it came to her son, she would fight with any means possible. “I am,” she replied with as much regal air as she could muster. “And I have money, more money than you could ever imagine. If you see that my son and I are released without harm, I will see that you are given twice—no thrice—what I have in that bag.”

  The man snorted.

  “Do you prefer jewels? Or works of art? Name it and you shall have it. Just let us go.”

  This caused the man to laugh. “This money’ll do just fine,” he said. Then he leaned in, his breath scorching her neck. “And maybe a kiss from you.”

  She could not stop herself from cringing, which only made the man laugh that much harder.

  After some time, the horse came to a stop in a small clearing, and the man dismounted. Caroline looked around, but all she could make out were trees and grass in all directions. If she had not been taking note, she would not know in which direction she needed to go to return to the village. One thing was certain—no matter how loudly she screamed, no one would hear her.

  The ruffian pulled her from the horse, and if he had not caught her by the waist, she would have been on the ground. That was not what she needed at this moment, a twisted or broken ankle. Any injury to her feet or legs would make escaping all the more difficult, and she was determined to get away to safety. Her life would not end in the hands of this scoundrel if she had anything to do with it.

  “Now, let’s see here,” he drawled, yanking the hat off her head. He looked her up and down with an unsettling glint in his eye. “Yes, quite a lovely one ye are.”

  Caroline was finding every minute in this man’s presence more and more difficult to stomach. She had to find a way to appeal to…. She almost laughed. This man would not have a good nature. Yet, she had to try regardless.

  “Please, Mr. …”

  “Ye can call me Pete. I ain’t no mister nothing.” The man snorted and then spat a large wad of phlegm into a nearby bush. No, the man was not anything close to being a mister anything.

  “Very well, Pete,” Caroline said, making every attempt to be appeasing. “I can see you are an…intelligent man. I am certain we can come to some sort of agreement. There does not have to be any reason for us to leave on bad terms. As I said before, I have plenty of…”

  “And didn’t ye hear me say that I don’t care nothing for what ye have?” His eyes roamed over her again. “Well, maybe one thing…”

  The air around Caroline seemed to dissipate, and she had to fight to keep herself from fainting. Fainting was not something she had ever done, nor would she allow herself to suffer it now. She had endured the wrath of Reginald for so many years; therefore, she could deal with this man without acting the weeping willow.

  “Where is my son?” she asked.

  “Far away, love,” Pete replied. He ran a calloused finger down the side of her neck to the top of her left breast. “And truth be told, ye ain’t gonna ever see him again.”

  Try as she might, Caroline could not keep the tears at bay, and they ran down her cheeks in easy rivers. She did not cry for herself, for she had lived a full life. No, she wept for the life of her son, for he was still so young. Oliver would never understand what it meant to be grown, to go on his
first hunt, or to find his first love.

  “Please,” she said, now pleading. “There is no need to hurt me. There must be some shred of decency in you.”

  This made Pete guffaw as if what she said was of the greatest of humor. He patted the bag containing the ten thousand pounds and said, “Only decency there is, is cash, Duchess.” Then he licked his lips. “Now, before I kill ye…” He leaned in toward her, his lips puckered as if he meant to kiss her, and the panic set in. She would fight to the death to keep this man from ever laying a hand, or a lip, on her!

  However, he was much too strong. He pulled her against him, but she fought him with a strength that came from her core. This man would not have her! She pushed, hit, kicked, bit, clawed, but the man only laughed and tried all the harder to place his lips upon hers.

  As terror blanketed her, she lifted her knee into the man’s groin. “Let go of me!” she screamed.

  With a grunt, Pete released her as he bent over and grabbed between his legs. “I’ll kill ye!” he grunted, the words coming with effort.

  Caroline glanced around her in all directions. She had to get away! However, in the struggle, she was now turned around. The horse had moved away, as if to keep itself from harm as she and Pete had scuffled, and she no longer recognized from which direction they had come.

  Oh, Philip! she thought, willing him to hear her cry. Then his words came to her.

  This blade can pierce a man…

  The knife he had given her before they left Blackwood Estates!

  Reaching into the pocket of her coat, she retrieved the knife, removing it from its sheath, which she threw to the ground. Narrowing her eyes at the man and making every attempt to keep her voice from shaking, she raised the weapon at him and said, “I will ask you only once more; where is my son?”

  Pete, still doubled over, smirked and then looked past her. “Been behind ye the whole time.”

  Without thinking, Caroline looked over her shoulder, soon realizing her error. She was a true fool for taking that bait. Before she could stop him, Pete grabbed her wrist, twisting it and making her drop the knife as if she were a small child caught with a stolen sweet.

  “Now, yer really gonna pay,” he snarled as he pushed her to the ground and began to remove his coat.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Philip knew something was wrong. Caroline should have made her way to the tree he had indicated by now, but he had not seen her as of yet. He cursed silently, debating with himself whether or not he should go out in search of her. He had no doubt he could trust her to follow his directions, but he also did not trust the men who had taken Oliver. It was clear they were scheming men, who would go to any lengths to get what they wanted. However, if it was not the money they wanted, what was their desire?

  He clicked his tongue and urged the horse toward the main street, attempting to appear at ease. There was no sense in bringing attention to himself if she was in trouble. Unfortunately, he saw no sign of Caroline anywhere by the time he arrived at the tavern, and his concern rose.

  A boy peeked from behind the building, and Philip called out to him. However, the boy’s eyes went wide, and he slipped away. Philip cursed as he jumped from the horse and ran after the boy. It did not take long before he had the youngster in hand.

  “Did you see a woman leave here? She would have been dressed in men’s clothing.”

  The boy shook his head adamantly. “No, Mister, I ain’t seen her.” Something in his darting eyes told Philip he was lying.

  Philip reached into his pocket and pulled out two silver pieces and held them up in the tips of his fingers. “Are you certain?”

  Licking his lips, the boy eyed the coins.

  “You know,” Philip said as the boy seemed to weigh his options, “that lady is a mother looking for her son. Surely you would not bring harm to such a woman?”

  This made the boy widen his eyes. “No, Mister, I sure wouldn’t,” he said. “She left with a man on a black horse; they headed that way, into the woods.” He pointed off to the other end of the village.

  “Good lad,” Philip said, tossing the boy the coins. Then he reached in and took out another coin and threw it in the air. The boy caught it easily. “For making the right choice.”

  “Will she be all right, Mister?” the boy asked as he squinted up at Philip. “I didn’t mean her no harm. The man told me not to tell anyone.”

  “She will be, so do not worry. You did not know.”

  With that, he urged his horse in the direction the boy had indicated. He had expected some sort of trickery, but now with Caroline and the money both gone, only one explanation could be made. They wanted her dead.

  He came to a stop at the edge of the woods, searching for any clues as to which direction they would have gone once they entered the trees. One set of tracks led out of the village at that point; luck was on his side.

  He glanced up at the sky. The sun was close to setting, thus the woods would be dim. He had a short amount of time to find her before something dreadful happened. Mounting his horse, Philip rode into the trees, keeping his eyes open for the continued signs of where the horse had gone. Few people used this track, so he read the way with ease.

  At one point, he had lost the trail only to find it again past a rocky hill. He could only hope and pray that he was not following the wrong tracks, for if he was, the chances of him finding Caroline alive would dwindle to nothing.

  After scouring the ground for the fourth time, he rose abruptly when he heard a woman scream.

  Caroline! his mind shouted, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

  He left the horse untethered and raced toward where he had heard the scream. He hoped the villain who had taken her had not joined his friends. Yet, if he had, then Philip would simply have to fight all the harder to get her free.

  Scuffling sounds led him to a clearing where Caroline struggled with a large, unwashed man with matted hair and ragged clothing. No one else was about; luck was on Philip’s side once again.

  Where is her knife? he wondered. She should at least…

  Then he saw it, on the ground as if tossed aside. It was as he thought; she had produced the knife but had it taken from her. What had he expected from a woman not accustomed to wielding a weapon? She was fortunate the man had not used it against her.

  The man pushed Caroline to the ground and what he intended was clear. Philip could wait no longer; he had to pounce now!

  And pounce he did. The man stared at Philip in surprise when Philip came racing from the forest edge and slammed into him with such force that the man went flying several feet before landing on his back.

  Stunned, the man lay there for a moment, and Philip used this chance to free Caroline. “Go!” he shouted. “You must leave!”

  Caroline screamed and Philip turned just in time to see the kidnapper barreling toward him. Philip grunted as the man’s head plunged into his stomach. Breathing became difficult, and Philip lay stunned as he attempted to draw air into his lungs.

  With effort, he forced himself to stand and caught sight of Caroline staring at him with wide eyes and her hand covering her mouth.

  “Leave! Now!” he managed to croak once again and nodded with satisfaction when she did as he asked. Although anger still remained, he felt a sense of relief that she had escaped.

  Lord grant her the path to return safely to the village, he thought.

  Now that Caroline was safe, Philip glared at the man who stood opposite him with a ready stance. This man knew how to fight, but Philip had had his fair share of brawls in his life. As far as Philip was concerned, this man deserved what was coming.

  “You dare hurt a Lady?” Philip growled. “You are nothing better than a beetle on the ground!”

  Before Philip could react, the man hurled himself at Philip once more, but rather than feeling the pain of being winded, a pressure in his side caused him to stiffen, as if he had been cast in hot iron. Everything around him stood still; the leaves on the tr
ees failed to flutter in the light breeze. The sun halted its descent. The air around him congealed, and Philip himself stood as a statue, his arms wrapped around his opponent.

  Then, in the expanse of a breath, a piercing pain erupted in his side, a pain hotter and more excruciating than anything he had felt in his life.

  “Now, you die,” the brute hissed as he pushed Philip away, a malicious sneer on his lips.

  Philip reached for his side and felt a wet stickiness. It was then that he noticed the knife he had given Caroline in the criminal’s hand. When had he retrieved that?

  The man cackled an evil laugh. “Ye think yer some great hero,” he sneered. “But you ain’t any better than any of us.” Then he leaned in close to Philip’s ear. “And that ‘Lady’? I’m gonna make a lady out her all right.”

  He laughed again with such depravedness, Philip’s stomach churned. In his mind’s eye, he saw that which the man intended to do to Caroline, and anger rose inside him, a rage so great that Philip thought he would explode into a thousand pieces. However, rather than shatter, Philip grasped that anger as a man grasping for a log while drowning. He pushed aside the pain and drew strength from deep within himself, and in one swift movement, brought his knee up into the man’s chin, sending him reeling back. Philip heard a distinct crack, and the man groaned.

  Philip picked up the knife the villain had dropped and stumbled over to where the man lay. Pressing the weapon to the culprit’s throat, he said, “Where is the boy? Tell me now or you die.”

  The man shook his head. “If I tell ye, then you kill me.”

  “As my name is Philip Butler, I swear to you that you will live. Now, tell me where the boy is.” He was finding breathing difficult, but he drew his attention away from his wound and focused on the man before him. “I have sworn on that name to allow you to live. Speak! If you do not, you die anyway.”

  With a sigh, the man said, “He’s being held in Chudleigh. You know the place?”

  “I do,” Philip growled. “How do I find him?”

  “Outside of town, up in the hills to the east, there’s a house. It’s got an old tree that fell over in a storm. The boy’s there. Now, are ye gonna let me go?”