Her confidence began to seep away from her, and she looked around the room again for anything that might give her an advantage.
Nothing.
Along the wall were piles of discarded items, and she found herself wondering if there were rats here as well.
Of course there were. This was a warehouse by the river, and there were always rats. She really hated rats. Mice she could handle, but rats made her skin crawl.
A dank pile of discarded sailcloth sat near the door, and she briefly considered hiding there. It would provide scant cover, but there were few other choices.
Perhaps a swift attack would be best. If she could break Daniel free, the odds would shift in their favor.
She glanced back out the door, watching the carriage as Stansbury pulled open its door. She held her breath, waiting for a glimpse of her husband.
Instead, another man came lurching out, almost losing his balance as he tried to negotiate the steps with his hands tied behind his back.
Charles Attwood? Why was he tied up? Had Stansbury kidnapped him too? How did Stansbury know him?
Stansbury pushed the door of the carriage closed. Where was Daniel? Was he still inside?
A sinking feeling caused her heart to falter. What if Stansbury had already killed him? What if she was too late?
If Daniel was dead, she’d make Stansbury pay the price for his treachery.
Catherine slipped her hand inside her fencing jacket, pulling out the knife she’d hidden there. Had it been foresight or dumb luck that had compelled her to bring it along? Neither, she realized. She’d wanted it with her because Daniel had given it to her. It had become a talisman.
She clenched the handle, holding it so that the blade was tucked behind her forearm, just as Daniel had taught her. Stansbury pulled a knife from his boot and began to saw at the ropes binding Attwood’s hands. The two chatted as he worked. Catherine couldn’t hear their words, but they didn’t appear contentious.
They were cordial.
A thought struck her with a stark chill. What if Stansbury and Attwood were in collusion? If she attacked now, she wouldn’t be saving Attwood, but revealing herself to them.
They began to saunter slowly toward her door in a relaxed and friendly manner. Catherine darted to one side, moving as fast as she could toward the pile of moldy sailcloth. With a shudder of revulsion at the thought of rats, she twitched the cloth out, seeing little bits of debris go flying, but no rats. She buried herself under the rotting cloth and held her breath as it settled in place over her.
Perhaps this wasn’t the best plan, but what else could she do?
She heard one of the men push open the door, slamming it wide so that it banged against the wall.
“I was afraid she might get here first,” Attwood said.
“We had a good lead on her,” Stansbury said. “She and her brother could be here any minute, though. We need to watch the gate. This plan is sure to keep them out of the action.”
The two men stood silently for a time, watching the courtyard gate through the open door of the warehouse.
“You’re certain this will work?” Attwood asked in a tone that suggested it wasn’t the first time he’d posed the question.
“Of course I’m certain,” Stansbury snapped. “When we were driving away in the carriage, I made sure to look her in the eyes. She definitely recognized me. Wentworth’s out of the competition, as are Spencer and Lady Catherine. Huntley will be so rattled when they don’t show up that he’ll be in a panic.”
Catherine caught her breath to keep from making a sound. Daniel was alive! She tried to make sense of everything else she heard. It sounded as though Stansbury had concocted some elaborate plan.
The men stood quietly for a few more moments, and then Attwood broke the silence again. “Where’d you get the blunt for the wager?”
Stansbury grunted. “I sold my newest carriage and the matching pair of bays. I was having trouble paying to stable them anyway,” Stansbury said. “But at these odds, it will be worth it.”
“Twenty to one. That’s worth quite a lot. Even kidnapping.”
“How about you?” Stansbury asked. “Where’d you get your stake?”
“Here and there. A bit of wheedling and a bit of stealing. I was able to pull together nearly five hundred.”
“Pounds?” Stansbury sounded surprised.
“Yes, m’lord.”
“Well done.”
“Couldn’t pass up a sure thing.”
They lapsed into silence again, and Catherine risked a peek out from under the sailcloth. The two men stood framed in the open warehouse door, watching the courtyard gates. Catherine’s grip tightened on the handle of her knife.
What on earth were they gambling on? And why were they so certain they’d win?
She heard a rustling nearby and tensed.
A rat? Please, no.
Something brushed against her foot, and she jerked it back instinctively, stifling a scream, but a gasp still emerged.
She glanced across at Stansbury and Attwood and found them staring at her pile of rotting sailcloth with startled faces.
She might as well have screamed after all.
As the two men approached her hiding place, she scrambled to stand, preferring to face them on her feet. A mouse scurried out from under the rotten sailcloth toward them, and then it turned and dashed toward the wall. Stansbury’s eyes followed it and then darted back to her face.
She let them see the knife she held, but they hardly took notice. Attwood merely pulled out one of his own.
A much larger one.
“Lady Huntley,” Stansbury sneered. His gaze raked her body, lingering on her legs and leaving her feeling unclean. “She’s a tempting little slut, don’t you agree? It’s a wonder Huntley lets her go out in public showing off her limbs in such a degrading manner.”
The trembling, gasping tone in Stansbury’s voice sent a ripple of fear down her spine. Something was wrong with him. He seemed wound very tightly, as though he were going to explode and send little bits of himself flying off at the slightest touch.
She watched him warily.
Stansbury rubbed his palms against his thighs, and with a rush of nausea, she realized his hand brushed against his private parts. She could see the bulge beneath his trousers.
When Stansbury saw the direction of her gaze, he grinned at her. “Do you like what you see, Lady Huntley? Do you hunger for a real man? You seem to like exposing your body in public. Maybe you’re hoping someone will come along who can make you behave as a lady ought. Someone who can bend you to his will. Your husband doesn’t seem to be up to the task.” He touched himself again. “But I assure you, I am.”
Catherine could hardly believe her ears, or her eyes. Was he suggesting... he couldn’t be, could he? She took a step back as the men began to move closer to her. Then another step back. Her foot became tangled in the old sail and she stumbled, falling backward.
“Well done, Lady Catherine. Too bad your penchant for screaming about mice finally did you in.”
“I didn’t scream,” she snapped back, fear making her voice shrill.
“In that you are correct. But you will, and quite soon.”
The two men rushed forward in unison, pinning her arms behind her back and overwhelming her so quickly that she never had time to react. Her malachite weapon clattered to the floor as Attwood dragged her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her neck, holding his knife to her throat.
“I’ll lock the gates,” Stansbury said. “We don’t want be interrupted by anyone.”
Attwood gave a nod, and Stansbury turned and trotted from the building.
Daniel and Charles would come. They had to. She just hoped they would be in time.
54 - Locked In
Daniel recognized John Cunningham among the spectators gathered to watch the tournament and sauntered across the fencing salon to join him.
“Huntley, my man. How good to see you. Congratulations
again on your marriage,” Cunningham said by way of greeting. “Are you here to support your new brother-in-law, Lord Spencer, or your old friend Wentworth?”
“It’s a difficult choice, and one I won’t be forced to make. I’ll be taking part in the tournament as well.”
“Oh? I thought perhaps you’d withdrawn since you aren’t yet dressed for the event. The odds-makers have you coming in fourth. It doesn’t sound as though either you or your friends will take home the trophy. They have a young man by the name of Gray as the likely winner.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said, pride welling within him. “I’ve watched him. He’s quite talented with a foil.”
Cunningham pinned him with a sharp gaze, and Daniel shuttered his face, returning the look with cool equanimity. That flicker of pride had been a foolish slip.
Hearing a commotion near the door, they both turned toward it, but could see nothing past the throng of spectators.
After a few moments, Daniel saw Mr. Winston making his way through the crowd blocking the entrance to the salon, his gaze fixed on Daniel. There was a look of urgency in the secretary’s eyes that sent a shiver of foreboding down Daniel’s spine.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he murmured as he walked away from Cunningham.
He crossed the open central area of the salon and joined Winston near the entrance.
The man quickly sidled close to him. “Your presence is required in Maestro Bernini’s office,” Winston murmured, turning on his heel and leading the way. The smaller man slipped through the crowd, but as Daniel followed him, the men blocking his path made way for him, stepping to one side lest they be trampled.
Daniel followed Winston around the tall desk and toward the door beyond. He could hear the murmur of voices from within, and Lord Spencer’s stood out from the rest. He couldn’t make out the words, but the emotion came through clearly. The man sounded distressed, and Daniel’s feeling of foreboding intensified.
Stepping through the doorway, Daniel scanned the room. A man was lying on the sofa, and another man in a black coat leaned over him, blocking his face. Charles sat on the edge of a large wing-backed chair, looking tense as he watched them. At the sound of Daniel’s footsteps, Charles looked up, and as their eyes met, the younger man jumped to his feet, his jaw dropping in astonishment.
“You’re here,” Charles said. “I didn’t believe it when Winston told us. I thought he must have been mistaken.”
“Where else should I be?” Of course he was here. Exactly where he said he’d be. “What’s going on? And where’s Gray?”
Charles took a step forward, revealing the identity of the person on the sofa.
Wentworth. And he was injured. His face covered with blood.
“What happened?” Daniel demanded.
“Wentworth was attacked.” Charles described the events that had taken place over the past fifteen minutes, including Stansbury’s claim to have kidnapped Daniel. “Gray took off on his horse to reconnoiter at the warehouse.”
“Gray’s alone?” Daniel’s mind raced. This didn’t make sense. Why would Stansbury attack Wentworth? Could Stansbury have intended to draw Catherine away from the tournament? With Daniel already here, oblivious to the danger, and Wentworth incapacitated, that would have left only Catherine and Charles. If Stansbury had lured her away with a lie that he’d been kidnapped, she would have been certain to follow. But that still didn’t make sense. Why not simply knock out Charles and kidnap Catherine? Why attack Wentworth at all?
There must be something more to this.
“Is Gray alone?” Daniel repeated.
Charles nodded.
“Get my horse!” Daniel shouted, sending Winston, who had been lingering near the door, scurrying away to do his bidding. “I have to go. I have to save... save Gray.”
If he hurried, he might still be in time to stop Stansbury from whatever he planned. Because whatever it was, it boded ill for his wife.
“I’m coming with you,” Charles said.
“No, I’ll be better off on my own.” His eyes scanned the room for a weapon. He needed something more deadly than a fencing foil. Among the gentlemanly weapons displayed on the wall, he spied a pair of dueling pistols. With two great strides he was across the room, yanking them from the wall.
“I’m not staying behind,” Charles said, his voice angry. “We’re family. We need to stick together.”
Family. The word brought Daniel up short. He glanced at Wentworth, lying injured on the sofa. The man had been his only family for years. But now he had more. Charles, and Catherine, and even young Sarah.
Maestro Bernini entered the room, and his gaze moved directly to the weapons Daniel held. “Those are only for display,” Bernini said. “I wouldn’t trust my life with them. You can use my new Colt. And listen to your brother-in-law. Don’t go charging in there alone.”
Daniel glanced back over his shoulder, staring at Charles in silence. Then he nodded.
Bernini moved to his desk and unlocked it, pulled out a wooden box, flipped it open, and angled it to show Daniel the pistol it contained.
“But if you’re here, whom did Stansbury kidnap? We definitely saw someone inside the carriage,” Charles said, stepping between Daniel and Bernini.
The sharp smell of metal and gun oil hit Daniel’s nostrils as Bernini loaded the Colt. “I don’t know,” Daniel said. “My biggest concern right now is getting to Gray in time. Stansbury is cunning, and I have the feeling he’s sprung some sort of trap. In fact, this may all have been an elaborate ruse to get her alone.”
“Her?” Bernini asked.
Damn. “Did I say her? I mean him, of course. I must admit, I’m concerned about my wife, since she’s home alone. It was a slip of the tongue. I’m afraid the rumor I’ve been kidnapped will get back to her.”
“I’ll send a message to her that you’re safe. I wouldn’t want your bride to be unduly alarmed,” Bernini said. He handed the loaded pistol to Charles. “Find Gray,” he said, revealing the depth of his concern through the tremor in his voice. “I couldn’t bear to lose that boy.”
Daniel nodded. He turned and tore out of the room with Charles on his heels
He just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.
§
As they approached the closed gates leading to Stansbury’s offices and warehouse, Charles blanched. “That’s her horse.” Daniel spotted her black mount and scanned the area, trying to catch sight of her, hoping she’d burst out from some alleyway. But he didn’t see her anywhere.
His stomach sank. She was already inside. He was certain of it. That damned impetuous nature of hers was going to get her killed.
Daniel jumped from his horse and tied it next to hers. With a grim look at Charles, he turned toward the large wooden doors leading to the courtyard. Would they be locked?
He lifted the latch and simultaneously pushed against one of the large doors with his shoulder. To his relief, it moved. He glanced back to see Charles tying his horse next to Rajah.
Daniel stepped inside, rounding the edge of the large door and entering the courtyard. He raised his eyes to see Stansbury less than two feet in front of him, holding a key.
With a rush, Stansbury threw himself forward, and Huntley danced to one side to avoid the blow. Stansbury rammed his shoulder into the door, but slid his key toward the lock so quickly that Huntley suddenly realized that locking the door had been the man’s goal all along.
Stansbury slid the key into his waistcoat pocket and turned to face Huntley with a broad grin. “Excellent timing, Huntley. I’m glad you’re able to take part in my afternoon’s entertainment.”
“What entertainment? What are you talking about?” he asked, his chest tightening. Why had he let Charles keep the pistol instead of taking it from him? He was defenseless without it.
“Why, I plan to bring down the great Lord Huntley in many, many ways. I’ll make sure everyone knows that your famous Midas touch was just a ruse to disguise your underhanded sch
eming. I know you started asking questions about me. You ruined my partnerships. You’re the one who told them all to come to my warehouse that day so they’d meet each other. It had to be you. And you’ll pay. You and your wife.”
“Where is she?” Anger made his voice shake.
Stansbury’s face darkened with fury. “That little slut? Why do you even want to claim her? She’s an aberration. An abomination!” Flecks of spittle flew from Stansbury’s lips and landed on his lapel. “She prances around town dressed as a man, showing off her limbs and her hindquarters for everyone to see. Who knows to what depths she’s descended in her degradation? She’s even entered the gentleman’s changing area at Bernini’s Academy.” His eyes gleamed with a sick light. “She’s perverted, but I’ll teach her a lesson. And you, too.”
Huntley took a threatening step forward, curling his hands into fists. Stansbury danced backward, keeping distance between them.
“Lord Huntley has arrived!” Stansbury shouted in a singsong voice. “Would you both be so kind as to step outside? I think he’s anxious to see his whore of a wife!” He looked back at Daniel with a broad grin.
Daniel’s head snapped around to face the only open door leading into the warehouse. He detected a flicker of movement and saw two forms emerge from the darkness.
55 - Don't Trip
Attwood shoved Catherine into the courtyard while keeping the edge of the knife pressed against her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut. The feel of the metal against her throat sickened her. This was nothing like the knife practice session with Daniel.
What if one of them accidentally tripped?
Her eyes flew open.
One stumble and she could wind up with her throat slit.
Don’t trip. Don’t trip.
She scanned the courtyard, searching for Daniel. There he was. Unharmed.
Attwood pushed her forward. Her shoulders were pressed against his chest, but she kept her back arched away from him, wanting as little contact with his body as possible.
Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 32