Mr. Holmes had repaired both the window and the door with surprising speed, as well as with material that was much sturdier than she was used to. In addition, he had secured her front door and window. She was not sure where he’d obtained the materials, but she was grateful for it for it helped her sleep much more soundly at night.
Alas, the odd sounds roused her suspicions. Alexandra listened carefully and soon heard it again. It was a rustling, coming from the kitchen. She rose and made her way into the back of the house where she stood still, ears alert.
Ah! There it is! It is coming from the crate with the potatoes! Faith, I hope it is not a critter!
She rushed to the crate and removed the lid. Almost instantly a rat jumped out at her. She screamed out in terror, as she hated creatures little more than rats.
Oh, you beast! I shall show you the error of coming into my house!
She chased the rat around the kitchen with a broom and opened the back door. Hitting its body with the end of the broom, the rat scurried outside. Alexandra followed it to ensure it did not attempt to get back inside. Satisfied that the intruder was well and truly out of the way, she walked back inside the kitchen.
Well and truly exhausted, she decided to take the opportunity to rest for a while. She did not have another engagement until the following day but had planned to visit with Mr. Holmes that evening for a game of cards. Alas, she had several hours, and a short nap would do her good.
* * *
By the time she rose again the sun had begun to set and the house was gloomy. She looked forward to spending the evening at Mr. Holmes. His house was comfortable, and he kept the drawing room well-lit with many candles. She would prepare some tea for their evening of card games and then call on him.
She was on her way downstairs when she heard a sound from the kitchen again.
Not again! As if one rat is not enough in one day!
She returned to the kitchen with haste but this time, it was not a rat she encountered. It was a man wearing a mask. Alexandra screamed out and turned to run for the front door but did not get far. Another man was behind her and she ran into him the moment she turned.
“I told you we would be back,” the man said as he roughly twisted her around, so she was facing his companion. She recognized his voice. He was the same man who had come to see her the previous week. His companion shoved a piece of cloth into her mouth and tied it so she could not scream. Alexandra shook in terror.
Why where they here? She had done everything they had asked her to do. She struggled with all she had, fearful of being tied to a chair again. Alas, they did not tie her. Instead they placed a sack upon her head, taking away what remained of the light.
“Are the neighbors occupied?” the man behind her asked. She was certain he was the same man as before, but the other man she did not recognize. From the brief glance she’d been able to get of him, he was taller and when he spoke, he did so in a London accent.
“Yes, our men have engaged the jeweler and the elderly lady next door. We shan’t be seen.” Why did her neighbors require distraction, she wondered? What were these men planning to do to her?
“Open the door,” the man who had a hold of her said as she struggled. She heard the back door open as she was pushed forward.
“Move it!” The man hissed into her ear as she dug her heels in. She would not move. Not of her own free will. Where did they intend to take her? She began to breathe heavily in panic as she intensified her resistance to her capture.
“Stubborn mare,” the man shoved her forward, causing her to stumble and fall. She hit her knees on the cold, stone ground and grunted in pain.
“Now, now–no need to be so gruff,” the other man said. “They said nothing of roughing her up.” She heard footsteps coming her way and felt herself being lifted up. “We shall simply carry her.” She felt herself being lifted. A sudden gust of air upon her face alerted her to the fact that they were outside.
“Hurry now,” the man whose arms she was presently in hissed to the other. She struggled as hard as she could, but the man had a tight grip on her and she could not free herself. The pain in her knees was excruciating. A horse neighed and suddenly the man stopped.
“Hurry, hurry.”
A flurry of activity occurred around her and there were a number of footsteps now. A door opened and the distinct smell of manure rumpled her nose.
“Toss er’ in, why don’t ye?” The fake Scot! She recognized him at once.
“Must you insist upon that dreadful accent?” The man she had not met before said, annoyance in his voice.
“Shhh, shut yer mouth!”
“She would not recognize you anyhow, fake accent or not,” the man said as he tossed her rather gruffly into the back of a carriage. Her hip hit the floor and she winced.
“Sorry, luv,” the man apologized just as the door was being slammed shut.
Alexandra was disoriented and attempted to sit up. Just as she’d struggled upright, the carriage was set in motion and she fell sideways again. Muffled voices drifted her way from the front of the vehicle, but she could not make out what they were saying. She felt straw beneath her hands.
Where are they taking me? And why? Have I not done all I could to discourage the Duke? To ensure the match goes ahead? They must have seen the Duke call on me the other day, but that is not my fault. I did not encourage him.
Fear consumed her for she recalled their threats well. If they had come after her, what were the chance of the Duke being safe? Alexandra let her head drop against the straw beneath her and waited, as there was nothing else that she could do.
* * *
They rode over a number of bumps, which only further aggravated the pain Alexandra was experiencing. Time moved slowly.
She listened to the rhythmical sound of the horses’s hooves until they suddenly stopped. She heard someone exit from the carriage and the footsteps fade away. Seeing a chance to free herself, Alexandra immediately forced herself upright and began to kick with her feet against the side of the carriage. Surely, if she created enough noise, she would alert someone to her predicament.
Indeed, she did attract attention. However, not the attention she had intended to, for the carriage door flew open.
“Hold still, you insufferable wench!” She recognized his voice. It was the Scottish man, minus the fake accent. He entered the carriage as she continued to struggle and ripped the cloth bag from her head. She noted that the carriage was small and dirty. There were cracks in the wood. Behind the man, she saw what appeared to be a barn of some sort.
“Come now, get up!” He hauled her up by the arm and dragged her from the carriage. “We’re staying here for the night.”
Where is here, I wonder. It is a barn for sure, but it seemed to be used for storing carriages.
The man led her into a back door and up a narrow staircase. They entered a room at the back of a hallway that was utterly bathed in darkness. He pushed her onto a bed and tied her arms behind her so she could not move. For a moment, fear of his intentions consumed her, and she struggled. To her great relief, he seemed not interested in her beyond to keep her still for he soon left the room, leaving her behind in the dark, bound and gagged.
Chapter 32
Maxwell sat in his office early after having received an early morning call from James, his steward. There were issues involving a recent drought that had caused problems with the crop which naturally lead to hardship for his tenants. Maxwell did not really care about the matter at hand, nor did he pay attention, something that did not escape James’ attention.
“Your Grace, I understand this is not a good time to discuss the matter. However, time is of the essence for the farmers. They cannot pay their tithe due and…”
Maxwell blinked and shook his head. “I understand James, and I am sorry. By all means, give the farmers more time to pay. Make arrangements as we have before. You know what to do. This is not the first time.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I si
mply wanted to bring the matter to your attention, for your mother has been rather vocal about wishing to take matters into her own hands and removing certain tenants from your lands.”
Maxwell sighed in a rather dramatic fashion.
“My mother has no say in the running of the property, as you well know. I do understand your predicament. My mind has been otherwise occupied, leading my mother to believe she is in a position to take over.”
James pressed his lips together. “She has. It is my hope that His Grace will be able to have a more direct involvement in the running of the estate.”
“I will, James. I will. There is a problem I must resolve first, however.”
The man cleared his throat. “The matter of the matchmaker.”
Maxwell raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I did not know you were aware.”
James averted his eyes, unwilling to look directly at him.
“The staff talk. I was told you had gone by her house a number of times since arriving here. Perhaps I can be of assistance in locating her. I have a number of contacts in the city, as you know.”
Maxwell nodded. “That would be helpful. In fact, would you mind accompanying me to her house now? I had hoped perhaps if I went at a different time of day. We can continue to discuss the drought on the way.”
James stood and straightened his jacket. “Yes, Your Grace. I will.”
Maxwell found an odd sense of relief to have the man come with him. He had found himself going more and more out of his mind each time he found Miss Evans not at her home. Having someone with him would certainly be helpful, if for no other reason but to keep him calm.
* * *
Half an hour later, they arrived at Miss Evans’s home. Maxwell knocked on the door, but once again found no answer. He sighed in frustration.
“Why is she never home? It is exasperating.”
James thought for a moment, and then clapped his hands together.
“Your Grace, let us ask the neighbors. They may have an idea when the lady will return. Perhaps this fellow can assist us, given he is right next door.” Maxwell glanced up at the sign and recognized the name at once. Holmes’s Fine Jewelry.
“Of course! He is a friend of hers. The night she hastily departed was the night she received a message informing her Mr. Holmes had taken ill. If anyone knows where she is, it will be him.”
The two men entered the shop and found the shopkeeper behind a counter, cleaning an assortment of pocket watches. He looked up at them with a kind smile upon his wrinkled face.
“My Lords, how may I assist you? Can I interest you in some of my finest pocket watches?”
Maxwell cleared his throat “I am not in need of jewelry. I am in need of information. I have been attempting to make contact with your neighbor, the matchmaker. I wondered if you would know when I might find her?”
The old man frowned and glanced outside at the carriage the two men had arrived in. Recognition spread across his face.
“You are the Duke of Gatterlen.”
“I am indeed. Have we met?” Maxwell asked.
The old man shook his head. “We have not had the pleasure, Your Grace. I recognize your coat of arms. As for Ms. Evans, I am not certain where she is. In fact, she was to meet with me last night for a game of cards and did not present herself, which is rather unusual for her.”
This concerned Maxwell greatly “When did you last see her?”
The old man tilted his head. “It was yesterday in the morning. I was going to check on her later on today to ensure she is well. If you would like to accompany me, please do so.”
Maxwell and James exchanged a glance.
“We just knocked on her door and she is not home, Mr. Holmes.”
“I understand. I am in possession of a key. Now, let us check on the young woman.” He started around the counter, but then stopped. He took a long look at Maxwell, the lines on his forehead deep.
“It is not my habit to involve myself in personal affairs of the ton. However, Miss Evans is a dear friend of mine and I should not like to put her in an awkward position. Thus, I’d like to enter the house alone. Should I find her, and find her in good disposition to talk, I shall ask her if she’d like to see Your Grace. Should she decline I would expect you to honor her request and depart, post haste.”
Maxwell stood still. He had not expected a lecture from the old man. He was not accustomed to such a tone. James nodded at him to agree.
“My concern is only for her safety. Should she be in need of assistance, I shall be willing. Should she require me to depart, I will.”
Of course, should she be home he would simply wait outside, around the corner in view of the house and wait for her. At a favorable moment, he’d take the opportunity to speak with her. For now, he followed the old man out the door.
* * *
They proceeded to walk the few steps to her door where the jeweler once again knocked and waited. When no answer was given, he produced an old, rusty looking key and opened the door.
In keeping with their agreement, Maxwell and James waited outside while the old man entered.
“My dear?” he called out. There was silence for a few moments when suddenly the old man yelled out, panic in his voice.
“Your Grace! Your Grace! Come quickly!”
Maxwell dashed into the house, followed by James. They located the man in the kitchen where he stood in the middle of the room and pointed at the back door, which sat ajar. Maxwell glanced around the room. There were signs of struggle. A chair was upended, a window broken, and cutlery was strewn on the floor. The old man walked outside and inspected the door and lock. The lock had been forced open.
“I just repaired this. It was sturdy. And they broke yet another window. I should have been more vigilant.”
Maxwell took a step toward the man. “More vigilant? What do you mean?”
The old man slumped against the wall. He shook his head, evidently racked with guilt over something.
“Come on old fellow, if you know something, you have to tell us.” James implored him.
He looked from James to Maxwell, uncertainty in his eyes. Finally, he gave a nod.
“You are right, Your Grace. I advised her to tell you when it happened, but she chose not to, and I respected her decision. Alas, it appears as though it all did no good.”
“What did no good, man? Do not speak in riddles. The situation is dire!” Maxwell worked hard to control his anger. What was this man talking about?
“About a week ago, two men broke into the house. They threatened our dear Miss Evans.”
“Threatened her?” Maxwell’s eyes grew wide and his hands balled into fists.
“Yes indeed, Your Grace. They told her that if she did not excuse herself from the courtship, and remove herself from your presence, the repercussion would be dire. For both of you. She was to never see you again, nor speak to you. For if she did, they would return and harm her and you.”
Maxwell’s mouth dropped open.
“What? Who would do such a thing? Why would she not tell me?”
The old man shook his head, his chin hanging low to his chest. “She was fearful for your safety, Your Grace. She would not have been able to live with herself should something happen to you.” He paused for one moment, then spoke up again. “She told me she saw Your Grace a few days ago, waiting for her. She hid. It is conceivable that she was in fact here each time you visited and simply pretended not to be, out of fear of endangering Your Grace.”
Maxwell could not believe his ears. She had been here and had seen him. Why did she not confide in him? If he had known, he would have protected her. But because he had not, his actions might have put her in even more danger.
“Perhaps it was my coming here that caused her to be taken. If she was told to remove herself from my presence, certainly the goal of the perpetrator was to further my courtship with Lady Frances. I have been careless with my display of affection for Miss Evans.”
He fell silent, h
ating himself for endangering her.
“Your Grace is right. If I was aware of Your Grace’s intentions toward the lady, and of your repeated visits here, whoever was behind the threats may have been as well.”
The jeweler agreed with James. “I believe she was taken to remove her from the equation completely. Perhaps they are keeping her in order to force your Grace into a marriage with Lady Frances.”
Maxwell exhaled harshly. “I do not wish to wed her. I wish I had never become involved with the courtship. It has caused nothing but heartache and trouble, and now the woman I love has been taken!”
Perfectly Mismatched With The Duke (Historical Regency Romance) Page 22