By Love Undone

by Suzanne Enoch

  “What does Eloise know about this?”

  “Apparently she’s been working from the beginning to keep you and Quin apart. I suppose—”

  “That’s enough of that,” Charles interrupted. “You know, Bancroft, you’ve made this whole thing quite a bit stickier. You won’t vanish nearly as easily as Madeleine, I’m afraid.”

  “No one’s vanishing, Dunfrey. Except you, when they send you to the gallows.”

  “Charles,” Maddie put in, trying to keep Dunfrey distracted so that he wouldn’t shoot one or the other of them, “why would you do this? You have nothing to gain.”

  “Except five thousand quid.” Rafe folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

  Maddie wished she could look so calm. “I don’t have five thousand quid.”

  “Eloise does,” Rafe said, already looking half asleep.

  Charles smiled and, one-handed, slid the rapier back into the cane. “Actually, it’s more than that. By my reckoning, Lord Halverston should be willing to part with at least that much again to get you married respectably.”

  Abruptly a great many things began to make sense. “You only wanted to marry me for the money?” she asked, anger beginning to edge out her fright. She’d suspected, of course, but this was too much.

  “It’s the way of the world, Maddie. And be grateful for it. If not for the extra blunt from your father, I would likely throw both you and Bancroft down a well. Now I’ve only one to worry about.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” Rafe murmured, so quietly Maddie could barely hear him.

  She turned back to the window so Charles wouldn’t see the sudden anticipation in her eyes. And she hoped desperately that she would see Quin at least one more time.

  When Lady Highbarrow returned home for afternoon tea, a note awaited her. Beeks, looking even more stoic than usual, bowed as he handed it to her.

  “From Lord Warefield, Your Grace. A messenger delivered it several hours ago.”

  “Thank you.” Now her sons were reduced to conversing with her via messenger. At the butler’s continued dour expression, she paused. “Is something wrong, Beeks?”

  “I couldn’t say, my lady.”

  “I see.” Curious, she headed up to her private room, where a fresh pot of tea awaited her. Pouring herself a cup, she unfolded the missive—and rose so quickly, she tipped the entire tea tray onto the floor. “Lewis!”

  The duke appeared a moment later. From his expression, her uncharacteristic shout had completely unsettled him.

  “What is it, Victoria?”

  “What did you do?” she demanded, stalking up to him, the note clenched in one hand.

  He assumed his normal stubborn, imperturbable expression. “I set things to rights.”

  “Oh, really? Then tell me what you make of this.” She unfolded the note again and read it.

  Rafe and Maddie on their way to Gretna Green. Am following.

  Q.

  The duchess looked up at her husband. “So I repeat, Lewis, what did you do?”

  “That damned fool!” the duke exploded. “Both of them! We’ll be the laughingstock of London. Two Bancrofts chasing after a whore!”

  “What concerns me, husband,” Victoria said, in a quiet and controlled voice, “is what will happen when Quin catches up to them. ‘Set everything to rights,’ indeed. They’ll kill one another.”

  The Duke of Highbarrow stared at her for a moment, the color slowly draining from his stern face. “Good God,” he hissed, and turned on his heel. “Damned, damned fools.”

  If Maddie had left in a carriage, and Rafael on Aristotle, then logically they intended to meet somewhere along the way. If Quin had been thinking clearly, he would have asked Claire whether the coach had any identifying markings, but he hadn’t seemed to be able to do much but ride at top speed along the north road and curse his brother in half a dozen languages. It was easier to focus on Rafael, who had taken her away, rather than to admit that Maddie had left him.

  He had always prided himself on being reasonable and fair in his dealings, on being in control of his emotions, and on honoring the responsibilities of his title. As he traveled the busy road, dodging hay wagons and shepherds and stopping every closed carriage he passed, he didn’t give a damn about any of that—or about the ruckus he was causing. Rafael had taken Maddie away, and Rafael would give her back.

  It was past noon when he came upon the first clue. Just off the road, a group of young boys surrounded a horse and unsuccessfully tried to grab hold of its dragging reins. Quin looked at the animal more closely, and then sharply pulled up his own mount.

  Aristotle dodged nimbly around his would-be captors, at the same time staying within the same small clearing rather than running off, where they would have had no chance of catching him. Quin kneed his gelding toward the group, stopping at the fringe of the trees.

  “Aristotle,” he called, though the horse had never listened to him before.

  To his surprise, the gelding whinnied and trotted up to him. Quin leaned down and picked up the reins.

  “He wouldn’t leave you behind,” he told the horse, his mind racing in a hundred different directions. “Not now. He ordered you to stay here, didn’t he? Why would he do that?”

  “Hey, milord, that horse yours?” one of the boys called.

  “My brother’s,” he answered. “Have you seen him?”

  “That beastie’s been here for over an hour. Never seen nobody.”

  Angry as Quin was, the presence of Aristotle actually made him stop and think for a moment. And when he did, the idea of Rafe and Maddie running off together and leaving Aristotle behind to mark their trail made absolutely no sense at all. He looped the bay’s reins around the cantle of his saddle and turned north again. Whatever was going on, he was bloody well going to find out what it was.

  “You’re going to kill that fine pair of horses of yours, if you insist on running them like this,” Rafael noted calmly.

  “Shut up,” Charles snapped.

  He’d become increasingly short-tempered all afternoon, and as satisfying as tormenting their captor was, Maddie wished Rafael would let up on him a little. Her own temper was becoming very fragile, and her bottom and legs were cramped from sitting in the ill-sprung coach all day.

  “If you’re going to kill me,” Rafe began again amiably, “you might as well tell me where we’re going.”

  “Rafe,” she whispered, looking sideways at him, “do quit reminding him about that.”

  “No, he’s quite right, my dear,” Charles countered. “You’ll figure it out eventually, anyway. We are going to Gretna Green, so that Maddie and I can be married.”

  She stared at him. “I am not going to marry you, in Scotland or anywhere else. So you may as well stop the coach right now, and let us—”

  “Maddie, Maddie, Maddie,” he chastised, shaking his head. “Please understand. I receive five thousand quid for taking you out of London. An additional sum will be mine when you are mine. If you make that idea too unpleasant, I will settle for the initial payment, and I’ll bury you in the same hole as Bancroft here.”

  “Kidnaping is one thing,” Maddie said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Murder is quite another. I hope you realize that. You’re setting a price on the worth of your own life, as well as ours.”

  “Thank you for your unasked for bits of wisdom, my dear, but allow me some credit.” As he had been for the past twenty minutes, he glanced toward the window, pushing the curtains aside with his free hand. “Randolph!” he called in a louder voice. “The eastern road, if you please.”

  “Aye, Mr. Dunfrey. I see it.”

  Dunfrey sat back again, the pistol still aimed at Maddie. She supposed that was to discourage Rafe from attempting any sort of rescue or escape, but she wished Charles would stop looking at her as though the idea of shooting her didn’t trouble him in the least.

  “Once you turned down my proposal, Maddie, I planned this little contingency. Of course, I
didn’t expect you to run out your front door and into my carriage with your bag all packed, but you have to admit, it did make things a bit easier on me.”

  The coach lurched as the road beneath them became steadily more rutted. Finally they rocked to a halt, and Randolph jumped down from his perch to pull the door open. Dunfrey gestured with the pistol. “Please follow my coachman, Bancroft. Maddie, you’re to stay right behind him.”

  With a last, angry glance at their captor, Rafe jumped to the ground. Maddie followed, her long skirt catching on the carriage steps and nearly tripping her. The sun was already behind the tall elms to the west, and in both directions the muddy, rutted road was empty of other travelers. Directly before them stood a small inn, a single lantern hanging above a bench by the dark, scarred door.

  They seemed to have the inn completely to themselves. The coachman led them into the deserted common room, which at least had a fire going in the stone fireplace. Obviously someone had lit the fire, thank goodness, and Maddie looked about for a friendly innkeeper—or at least, one who could be bribed.

  The man who walked in through the kitchen door, though, with a tray of bread and fruit in his arms, didn’t look the least bit friendly. He also looked extremely familiar. Maddie blanched, stopping in her tracks, and Dunfrey ran into her from behind, the muzzle of the pistol bruising her spine.

  “Ouch! That hurt.”

  “Sit down,” he grumbled.

  “But—”

  “Sit down in the chair there, Maddie, before I find a more accommodating position for you,” Charles said in a darker voice, and pushed her toward the chair set before the fireplace.

  Maddie did as he said, her eyes on the tall gentleman setting the food down on the table. He turned to face her and smiled.

  “Good evening, Maddie. Haven’t seen you for a while. You look more lovely than ever.”

  “Spenser, that’s right, you know Maddie,” Charles said more amiably, sitting at the long wooden table, “and this, unfortunately, is Rafael Bancroft. Don’t worry, we’ll kill him before we move on.”

  Benjamin Spenser eyed Rafael as the coachman dragged another chair over beside Maddie’s. “Bancroft, as in the Duke of Highbarrow’s kin?”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Rafael said, and held out his hand. “You’re Benjamin Spenser, I presume? The ass who ruined Maddie?”

  “Sit down,” he ordered, picking up a coil of rope from the bench. “I’ve no objection to killing anyone, Dunfrey, but you think splitting a thousand quid is worth the risk of murdering a Bancroft?”

  Charles glanced up at him. “It’s twice that now.”

  Rafael snorted. Dunfrey rose and hit him hard across the face with the pistol. Rafael grunted and fell backward into the chair. Charles leaned over him. “I’d kill you for nothing, Bancroft.”

  “Charles, stop it!” Maddie protested, shooting to her feet. He shoved her back down into the chair.

  She looked from her former betrothed to the man who had ruined her. Now that she saw them together, and now that she’d realized how highly Charles valued her dowry, quite a few things made sense.

  “Why so sour-faced, Maddie?” Charles cajoled, while Randolph and Spenser tied Rafe to the chair before he could regain his senses.

  “You never cared for me at all, did you?” she said quietly, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “All you wanted was money for marrying me. As much of it as you could get.”

  “Why else would I want to marry you?” Dunfrey asked, finally dropping the pistol in one of his coat pockets. “Though I have to admit, if I’d known what you’d end up looking like, I might have been willing to settle for slightly less currency.”

  “It’s a bit late to try flattering me, you ape,” she retorted.

  Spenser moved behind her with another stout section of rope, and Maddie tensed again. Balling her fist, she surged to her feet and slugged Charles Dunfrey in the chin as hard as she could.

  Not expecting the blow, Dunfrey rocked backward and lost his balance. He gripped the edge of the table, blinking. Attempting to take advantage of his momentary surprise, Maddie crashed into him, and they both fell to the floor.

  She grabbed for his pocket, trying to recapture the pistol, but he threw her off. She landed hard on her back, the breath knocked out of her. With a curse Dunfrey pounced on her, pinning her by the shoulders with his hands and the weight of his body on top of her.

  “This gives me an idea,” he snarled, blood welling from a cut lip. Shoving his knee between her legs, he leaned down and kissed her wetly.

  “Dunfrey!” Rafael roared, pulling against the ropes that bound him securely to the chair. The coachman gagged him with a rag.

  “I warned you not to push me, Maddie,” Charles continued. Laying his body harder against her, he kissed her again.

  It was foul, wet, and disgusting. And, even worse, she could feel his growing arousal between their bodies. “Get off me,” she demanded frantically.

  Spenser knelt at her head and grabbed her flailing hands. He grinned down at her. “Share and share alike, I always say,” he leered, pinning her arms above her shoulders.

  The last of her anger slid into pure fear as Charles, his hands free now, ripped at the front of her dress. “Future husbands first,” he said, licking her neck.

  The door burst open. “That would be me,” Quin snarled, white-faced and disheveled.

  “Quin!” Maddie sobbed, relieved.

  Quin leaped at Dunfrey. Twisting, Maddie grabbed Spenser’s ankle as he scrambled to his feet, sending him sprawling. Dunfrey toppled off of her as Quin plowed into him with a furious growl.

  The coachman standing behind Rafe looked as though he didn’t know what to do, so Maddie yanked off one of her shoes and hurled it at him. It struck him in the shoulder and he jumped, then broke and ran for the door.

  She tried to grab Spenser again, but he regained his feet and dived into the fight. Realizing she wouldn’t be of much assistance to Quin against the two big men, Maddie scrambled over to Rafe to untie him. One wrist was already bloody, and the knots were slick and tight. “Stop pulling, or I’ll never get you loose,” she snapped, and he relaxed his arms a little.

  Finally she had him free. He yanked the gag off and slammed into Spenser, knocking him away from Quin and Dunfrey.

  Trying to recover her breath, Maddie staggered to her feet. As she watched in horror, Dunfrey scrambled away from Quin and dug into his coat pocket for the pistol. Her frantic gaze lit on the discarded cane, and she snatched it up.

  Dunfrey stood and leveled the pistol at Quin. With a shriek, Maddie pulled the rapier free and stabbed it into Dunfrey’s back. “No!”

  Charles swung around and hit her in the face with the pistol, knocking her hard to the floor. Blurrily, she saw Quin grab the weapon and shove Dunfrey away from her. And then the Duke of Highbarrow, together with a dozen footmen, burst into the room, weapons drawn.

  Maddie shut her eyes as the room spun drunkenly. Then someone knelt beside her and lifted her into his arms. “Maddie,” Quin breathed, his voice shaking. “Maddie, can you hear me? Open your eyes.”

  She looked up into his beautiful jade gaze. Breathing a sigh of relief, he pulled her tightly against his chest. Maddie wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder, and began to sob. “Quin,” she said, over and over again. “Oh, Quin.”

  “Shh,” he murmured into her hair. “It’s all right. You’re all right, Maddie.”

  “She’s not hurt, is she?”

  The muscles across Quin’s back tensed, and she looked up to see Rafael squatting down beside them, though there seemed to be two or three of him. “No, I’m fine, Rafael. Really.”

  “Excuse us,” Quin said brusquely, and lifted her in his arms. With a warning glance at the Duke of Highbarrow, who actually stepped aside, he carried her outside into the moonlit darkness. He sat on the bench beneath the lantern, and cradled her like a babe. “Why did you leave, Maddie?” he asked quietly. “Yo
u said you would wait for me.”

  She tried to focus her eyes on his lean face. “I’ve been enough trouble, Quin. Don’t you understand, you and Eloise—”

  “Eloise and I are nothing,” he interrupted fiercely. “I have already told her my intentions. What about you and Rafael?”

  She furrowed her brow. “What about us?”

  “You were going with him to Gretna Green.”

  The muddiness in her head cleared a little. “No, we weren’t. Charles was kidnaping me for my dowry. Rafe found out, and came to rescue me.”

  Quin glanced back toward the open doorway. “Some rescue,” he said grudgingly. He looked back at her, holding her gaze for a long time as he stroked her cheek with gentle fingers. “Do you love me, Maddie?” he asked softly.

  “Quin, I—”

  He shook his head. “Do you love me?”

  A tear ran down her cheek. “Of course I love you,” she whispered.

  Quin closed his eyes for just a moment. “Then marry me.

  “I can’t. I’m ruined. Twice now.”

  “At least,” he smiled, and leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips. “Marry me.”

  “You came after me,” she said, for the first time realizing exactly what had happened. “You came after me!” The dark, lonely knot in her chest finally broke apart and melted away.

  “Of course I did. I love you.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean,” she argued, wishing the dull ache in her head would go away so she could speak coherently. “No one came after me the last time.” She started crying again. “But you came.”

  He looked at her for a long time, his expression unreadable, then gathered her up and stood again. “That settles that, Miss Willits.”

  “Settles what?” she asked, twining her hands in his lapels and wondering that he could lift her so easily.

  Quin walked back into the inn, Maddie still in his arms. “Your Grace,” he said, and the duke turned from glowering at his captives to eye his son.

  “What is it now, boy?”

  “Maddie and I are continuing on to Gretna Green.”