by Vanda Vadas
‘We must keep our heads about us,’ said Wentworth. ‘Tomorrow we’ll set out again. We’ll search the village and neighbouring estates. Travellers will be stopped and questioned. We’ll leave no stone unturned.’
His wife broke down in his embrace. ‘Why would anyone take our Eloise?’
Julian gazed out the window, staring into the dark of night. His fists clenched and unclenched at his side. Again, he’d failed to protect his sister. His head hung in disgrace. He’d have risked his life before letting the highwaymen anywhere near her.
Catherine laid a comforting hand on his arm.
He kissed her palm and whispered, ‘My love.’ It pained him to see his anguish reflected in her doe-like eyes.
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ she entreated. ‘We cannot change what already is. She’ll come back to us.’ A wicked glint lit her eyes. ‘If I know Eloise, her stubborn nature will wear away at those who carried her off. They’ll soon reconsider whether their cause is a worthy one.’
He smiled. ‘You do well to placate my conscience. And yes, Elly can be the most trying of people. Yet, whatever their game, those miscreants are not to be underestimated.’
Catherine beckoned her mother. ‘Come. We both are fatigued. I think it best we retire for the evening. It has been a most trying day for all.’
‘Yes, my dear. I fear my nerves can take no more. We’ll leave the men to further discuss the matter.’
Wentworth assisted his wife to her feet. He kissed her still-supple cheek and bade her goodnight.
No sooner had the door closed behind them than Gareth asked, ‘Shafford, have you considered that this highwayman and the masked intruder are one and the same?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you’ve no inkling as to a motive?’
‘None whatsoever.’
‘Money!’ sputtered Wentworth. ‘I suspect you’ll soon be receiving a ransom note.’
Julian sank into a chair. ‘How did this happen? Let’s go over it again. Perhaps we’ve missed a vital clue. Arlington, tell us again exactly what happened, word for word, between you and the highwayman.’
Gareth took them through the events as they occurred once the carriage had rolled to a stop. ‘When he ordered Maisy to stay inside the carriage, I begged the scoundrel to leave us be. To take our coins and valuables. His henchman took me away from Eloise and … well! You saw what a fool he made of me.’
Despite the duke’s visible humiliation, Julian gestured for him to continue.
‘The next I saw of your sister, he had her seated on the horse with him. Poor girl was unconscious. Fainted from the shock of it all.’
‘Did he make any demands?’ asked Wentworth.
‘No.’
‘Well, did he indicate why he took her?’
‘No!’
Julian paced again. ‘What of his parting words?’
Gareth slumped back against his chair. He heaved a sigh and took a handkerchief from his pocket to dab perspiration from his brow. ‘What an ordeal. Her abduction is on my head and believe me, I find the burden impossible to bear. I’m sorry, gentlemen.’
Wentworth waved off his apology. ‘We were not to know this would occur.’
‘Indeed. The highwayman said, “I look forward to our next meeting, Your Grace.”’
Julian homed in on this point. ‘Then he intends to make contact. But … why with you, and not me?’
Gareth shrugged.
Wentworth gesticulated with his hands. ‘Do you not see? The miscreants believe Eloise is spoken for. By a duke, no less. A man of excessive wealth!’
The room fell silent. Wood crackled in the grate. The ormolu clock’s ticking marked precious time.
Of course! Not once had Julian considered Eloise, or anyone for that matter, would be in danger simply through their association with Gareth. On the contrary, if she did become duchess, shouldn’t that guarantee her a safe and secure future? Financially safe, perhaps, until some such devious criminal thinks to make off with her.
He would sell his soul to get his sister back. What would Gareth sacrifice for her return? If ever there was reason to test loyalty, friendship and his devotion to Eloise, then this was it. An unsettling thought struck him.
‘What is it?’ asked Wentworth.
Julian shook his head, eager to bring the evening to a close. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how my sister suffers. Tomorrow will require our wits and energy.’
Gareth stuffed the handkerchief in his coat pocket and pushed himself out of the chair. ‘We’ll set out at first light with as many tenants as we can muster.’
‘No! My sister’s honour and reputation is at stake. The mere mention of her name in the same breath as highwaymen will forever ruin her.’
This stark fact affected Gareth’s manner. He rubbed his chin and frowned. His gaze fell to the floor. Was he reconsidering a future with Eloise?
Julian put him on the spot. ‘Your thoughts?’
‘You’re quite right. Let it be known, dear friend, that current circumstances have not altered my intentions towards Eloise.’
He’d sounded sincere. ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Julian replied. ‘After all, at the time of her capture, my sister was in your care, and under your protection.’
Gareth hesitated a moment before he inclined his head in understanding.
‘I’ve men whom I can trust with our search. Leave that to me. Should anyone enquire after my sister, tell them she convalesces at home, adjusting to her delicate condition. Callers to the house will be turned away with the same explanation.’
‘Very good. Well, gentlemen. Until tomorrow. Julian, thank you for the hospitality of a bedchamber this night.’ Gareth closed the door behind him.
‘What’s on your mind?’ asked Wentworth.
Julian beckoned him close. ‘What I have to say, stays between you and me.’
‘Naturally.’
‘Elly’s abduction. It’s the nature of highwaymen to rob their victims and be on their way. Why burden themselves with a hostage? A blind one at that. Where, confound it, would they seek shelter and food without being discovered?’
‘I see your logic.’
‘And yet,’ Julian’s brows rose, ‘the highwayman expects to meet with His Grace again.’
‘No doubt to collect the ransom money in exchange for Eloise.’
‘Then we are not dealing with a simple rogue, a man out to make quick coin. This … highwayman is someone who would have to possess a certain confidence and considerable skill and cunning in masterminding Elly’s abduction, and subsequent ransom rendezvous.’
‘Hmm.’ Wentworth pursed his lips. ‘You’ve a point there. If what you say has any truth to it, then what type of man are we dealing with?’
Julian glanced briefly over his shoulder towards the door. ‘A man who moves among us. Rather, a man known to His Grace. Someone who moves in the same circles as he.’
‘Be more specific.’
‘I’ve known His Grace since childhood. He is my close and most trusted friend. He has some eccentric ways about him. That aside … had it not been for him, I would have perished in the fire with my parents.’
‘Indeed.’
‘I can’t say I have intimate knowledge of his business matters. I do not wish to think ill of him, but perhaps something untowards has occurred in his private affairs which has provoked the kidnapping of Elly.’
‘He harbours a dark secret?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Good Lord! Eloise’s birthday ball. Do you think the highwayman is the same masked man who approached her that night? That she struggled and screamed enough to frighten him off?’
‘No. I don’t believe these men are one and the same. Although they both chose to wear a disguise. The scoundrel at Elly’s ball warned her to go inside, to forget she saw him. That he’d seen and heard what he’d come for.’
‘Which was?’
‘Apparently, he believed one of the guests to be a thief.’
&n
bsp; Wentworth scratched his thinning scalp. ‘I don’t like it. Something does not sit quite right. If it helps, I’ll make enquiries. I’ve contacts in London, people who are adept at spying on others.’
‘You must be discreet. I would not have His Grace think I intend to discredit him, for if I’m wrong …’
‘I shall be prudent.’
‘When the opportunity presents itself, I’ll question Gareth’s coachmen. Perhaps they’ve a different account of Elly’s abduction. They might have heard or witnessed something their master did not.’
‘What of Maisy, Eloise’s companion? Was she able to shed any light on this matter?’
‘No. Poor woman is badly shaken by the ordeal.’
‘Naturally.’
Wentworth retired for the night. Julian collapsed into a chair, Eloise on his mind. She might be strong-willed, yet what if her abductor had taken advantage of her? Julian couldn’t bear thinking on it. Being blind would intensify her terror. It tore at him not to be out there now, in the dead of night, searching every square mile of countryside and knocking on doors.
Catherine slept upstairs, heavily pregnant, cherished and safe. Did the highwayman have her and Julian’s unborn child in his sights too?
He surged to his feet with the need to enfold his wife in a protective embrace. Tomorrow, he’d pursue his sister’s rescue with galvanised determination.
Chapter Six
Zach set foot inside the bedchamber, eyes transfixed on the glorious nakedness of his captive indulging in a bath.
When Lily had handed him the breakfast tray, she’d given him no warning of what he would find. He should turn on his heel and leave the lady to her privacy. God help him, he stepped closer. Quiet. Aroused.
Though familiar with the seductive curves of the female form, he took a moment to suppress the bolt of desire. Only then, with mind over matter, did he indulge in the exquisite vision of feminine perfection.
Long wet hair fanned out about her shoulders. Wayward strands hung seductively over her forehead. Moisture beaded on her cheeks, lips and eyelids.
His gaze feasted on firm creamy breasts. Roseate nipples stood teasingly erect above the still water. Travelling leisurely south, tracing the contours of a narrowed waist and the swell of rounded hips, his eyes came to rest upon the auburn curls between her thighs. His suppression shattered.
Her bandaged foot hung languidly over the edge of the bath. For a fleeting moment, he imagined those lithe limbs wrapped around him. That thought shredded all self-control. His hands trembled. The china tea set rattled on the breakfast tray he held. The lady stirred.
‘Lily?’
Zach set the tray down and, with great effort, attempted a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Good morning. You slept well?’
Her eyelids flew open. Horrified, and with a rush of movement, she sat up, swiftly drawing her knees and hands to her chest. The water sloshed over the bath’s edge.
‘How dare you … you canaille. You bâtard! You …–’
He gave her no time to utter another expletive and grasped her upper arms, lifting her out of the bath. ‘Your French is impressive, mon cherie. However, I resent the attack on my character. Do not presume to know either my nature or my heritage. Me comprenez-vous?’
‘Do not presume you may take such liberties with my modesty!’
Zach stared into her visionless eyes. How did the woman manage to crawl beneath his skin so quickly, so easily? When she took a deep breath as if to continue her tirade, he silenced her with a kiss, deliberately shocking her with the bold invasion of his tongue. He kissed her deep and thoroughly. She stood stiff against him. When he broke the kiss she gasped for air.
Contempt for his actions showed on her face. She insinuated her hands between their bodies in an attempt to push him away. He wouldn’t risk her safety and so held her at arm’s length, mindful that if he let her go, she would doubtless fall near the bath and injure herself further.
He retrieved the linen robe on the stool beside the bath. He dressed her in it and cinched the belt around her waist. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Not nearly as well as if I’d occupied my own bed!’
Her sharp remark made him smile. ‘Then perhaps I could have accommodated you in mine.’
Her cheeks reddened. ‘Nothing could tempt me to do that!’
‘Nothing?’ He held her firm when she tried to shake free of him.
Her stare challenged him. Her body obediently relaxed beneath his hold. Doubtless she would rather yield to his questions than his kisses. The thought disappointed him.
He guided her to a seat at the table where he’d placed the breakfast tray. ‘I’m here to examine your foot.’
He knelt before her and unravelled the wet bandage. In his large hand, her foot appeared delicate and small. He used a towel to pat the skin dry and gently inspected the cut underfoot. ‘The wound is healing nicely. I’ll have Lily bring a fresh bandage to rebind it.’
Zach’s gaze lifted to her face, to the way she chewed her bottom lip as if biting back a retort. Did she keep her anger in check to avoid having him kiss her again? What a shame. He enjoyed the ensuing results when they verbally sparred.
He eased her foot to the floor. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast. Later, you and I shall have ourselves a little tête-à-tête.’
‘You will not force me to say anything you have no business knowing!’
Zach admired her strength of will and stubborn pride. ‘You are my business and you will tell me all I need to know.’
She shivered as if he’d doused her with a bucket of cold water.
In her night shift, Eloise lounged on a chaise by the window of her bedchamber, having endured the day’s tedium in solitary confinement. She was yet to face his questions and so spent the day scheming, thinking how best to extract from her abductor information about his identity. Understanding who might explain why. If she could be clever enough, she might be able to negotiate her own release.
Whilst she valued intelligence above appearance, she resigned herself to using the only tools available to her in achieving the desired result. Her looks.
She could shamelessly pander to a man’s physiological weakness and exploit his ego. And she wouldn’t be the first woman on earth to do so.
Free of the eye bandage and with the curtain drawn wide, Eloise imagined she was staring up at a starlit sky. Night air sifted through the slightly ajar window, giving her a taste of the outside world.
Lily had made routine visits, offering no conversation other than talk of meals and refreshments. He wouldn’t visit her now, given the late evening hour.
Unlike last night when he’d invaded her dreams. She’d been wickedly pleasured by a faceless man. Upon waking, her heart had raced, her breathing shallow. She’d known his voice. Her abductor.
The only activity to ever set her heart racing was riding her mare at a gallop across the fields, or engaging in vigorous swordplay against any who dared challenge her. If, in reality, intimacy between a man and a woman reached exhilarating heights such as in her dreams, then she’d be branded a wanton for embracing it.
Never had a man affected her so. Self-discovery could be so intriguing. Eloise willed her heart to beat at a more even tempo.
She’d been grateful that morning for the soothing hot bath with piquant aromatic oils Lily had prepared. Left alone to luxuriate in its warmth, tension had seeped from every muscle. So lost in her lassitude, she hadn’t heard the door open.
Hadn’t been aware of him standing there watching her. For how long? Her outrage had earned her something more devastating. She hadn’t expected to be lifted from the bath and held firm against lean, hard muscle. He had not seemed to care that her wet body dampened his shirt and breeches.
Even now, heat pooled in her stomach and between her thighs at the memory of such intimate contact.
The clock’s hammer struck its bell nine times and was closely followed by three knocks on her door. ‘Lily? Is that you?
’
‘No.’
His voice startled her. She was not dressed appropriately to receive a man, and in her bedchamber of all places. Silly to feel vulnerable dressed in flimsy night clothes after having been plucked naked from the bath. She rallied her thoughts, recalling her brazen idea. A woman’s body beneath a see-through shift would work its own magic. Employ the right words and actions and make the enemy her ally. She counted to three, braced herself, and feigned a fearless, ‘Come in.’
The door sighed open, then closed. Did she hear his breath hitch in his throat?
‘How was your day?’ he enquired.
She turned her head towards his voice. ‘Long. And lonely.’
‘Do you pine for anyone in particular?’
Eloise ignored the baited, cynical undertones and employed a different tack. One she’d spent the day formulating in the hope of learning something of her captor. Now that the opportunity presented itself, she’d not let her scheming go to waste. She struck a casual air of indifference. ‘You have me at an unfair disadvantage.’
She stood and ventured several steps from the chaise. As predicted, he’d moved swiftly to her side, one hand stayed her arm. ‘Careful.’
He stood exactly where she’d hoped. Directly in front of her.
‘Unfair? How so?’
She laughed. ‘Come now, do you not see the irony of this situation? I’m blind. You’ve held me against my will, exploited my vulnerability, and still you’ve not explained yourself or your actions. You’ve kept me, literally, in the dark. What do you want? Who are you? At least give me your name.’
‘The less you know about me, the better.’
She’d predicted his guarded reply. ‘Best for whom? You, or me?’
He kept silent.
She pressed him further. ‘Had we been acquainted prior to our encounter on the terrace?’
‘No.’ His response came almost too quickly.
‘Tell me of your appearance without the mask.’
She’d anticipated his next move and latched onto his arm before he could step back out of reach. Though he could easily wrest free from her meagre restraint, she was pleased he made no attempt to do so.