Lord Brynwood shook his head. “She should have come to me if there was anything to fear!” he whispered hoarsely. He had been speaking with constables and town officials all day. “If there had been any cause for distress or fear, she should have come to me immediately!”
Lord Sutton’s lowered his brandy and leveled a look at his friend. “Do you perhaps think this had been her plan all along?” he asked quietly, speaking the unspoken question. “Do you think she might’ve planned to leave from the beginning?”
Lord Brynwood stopped mid-pace. Colette’s face had paled at the question. It looked quite as if Lord Brynwood was entertaining the thought of striking his friend. His body tensed and his fists curled into themselves. Colette prepared herself to jump in to prevent any unnecessary violence. But just as suddenly, Lord Brynwood’s body relaxed and slumped. He shook his head tiredly.
“If that had been her plan from the beginning, then she is a finer performer than Colette,” he said. “I felt her affections to be real and sincere. I had been under the impression that she understood I reciprocated those feelings. Colette as well. If I was mistaken....” Lord Brynwood’s expression took on the strained look of pain.
Lord Sutton shook his head firmly. “No, my friend. I believe you and I too saw the truth of her love. She adored both you and Colette.” He leaned back in his chair and glanced over at the exhausted singer. “But it needed to be said. All doubts had to be cleared amongst us.”
Colette nodded, her face still quite pale. “I just fear for her safety. She is just so delicate,” she whispered.
Lord Sutton leaned forward and gently squeezed her hand. She looked down at his grasp as tears gathered at her lashes. “Remember, my dear,” he said gently. “She had lived on the streets before she came into your lives. Although we must find her quickly, she may have strength that we do not give her credit for.”
Lord Brynwood shook his head. “I will—”
But he was cut off by a swift knock at the door. A sharp intake of breath was taken by all three as they immediately stood up at the sound. “It must be a constable!” Colette whispered, desperate with hope and fear.
Lord Brynwood immediately strode out towards the door, motioning the other two to stay. Taking a breath and pushing back fears of any of the worst possible outcomes, Lord Brynwood opened the front door. But instead of a constable, he was greeted with the cool night air. Stunned, Lord Brynwood scanned up and down the street but he saw no one. He was sure he had heard the knocking. After all, Colette and Lord Sutton had acknowledged it as well.
Lord Brynwood was about to shut the door when he caught glimpse of the dull glow beneath his feet. A letter. The folded paper was dirty and had only barely caught his eye. Warily picking it up, the earl gave a final look down the street before closing the door.
Entering the den again with the letter, Lord Brynwood was greeted with Colette’s anxious eyes. “Well?” she asked, her long tapered fingers gripping her skirts. Lord Brynwood shook his head. His heart nearly broke when he saw his fiancée slump forward in defeat.
“What is that?” Lord Sutton asked, his eyes honing in on the letter.
Lord Brynwood broke open the sloppy blob of wax. “I don’t know. I found it on the doorstep,” he replied quietly, feeling the hairs on his arms rising with some kind of unknown fear. As he unfolded the letter, something slight fluttered to the carpeted floor.
“What was that?” Colette asked, her voice pitched a bit higher than normal.
Lord Brynwood bent to pick it up. Pinching his two fingers, he picked up the small bit of flutter. He felt a cold trickle of fear run down his spine.
“It is a lock of Abigail’s hair.”
My dear good Prince Brynwood,
I hope this missive finds you in goodly health and wellness. Please forgive my forwardness in introducing myself through letter but I fear a meeting shall be most difficult to arrange between us.
I write to relieve you of your distress, good sir! Little Abigail is good and well. Rest easy and know that she is in excellent care. But her comfortable situation may be temporary, good sir, depending on your response.
To have the little lady released into your custody again, I expect a payment. She was, after all, one of my best thieves (you do realize she was a prolific criminal before your acquaintance, I hope?) and for you to, so to speak, rob me of my best thief is tantamount to leaving me destitute and without means. I must be recompensed.
Once I have been satisfied with my payment, Abigail will be free to join you and your loving home once more.
Unfortunately, as we are not acquainted, I cannot fully trust that you will not turn to the law for conniving assistance. Prove your gentlemanliness. Drop off a small sum of a hundred pounds to the scrap collector at the end of market street tomorrow afternoon. Have no one followed or arrested. Once I am satisfied that the payment has safely reached me, I will contact you with an appropriate sum for our pretty little Abigail’s head.
And know that if you cross my wishes or instructions, that is exactly what you will be left with—her pretty little head.
X
Lord Brynwood slowly lowered the letter as he finished reading aloud. So Abigail had been kidnapped somehow. It was hard to imagine a common thief barging his way into The Hall unnoticed on such a busy night yet somehow the bastard had managed to hook Abigail into his grasp.
“What should we do?” breathed Colette, a hand resting over her stomach. She felt a wave of nausea overcome her as she thought about the danger Abigail must currently be in. Oh my poor sweet girl! she thought. “Should we notify the constables?”
Lord Brynwood said nothing as he stared into the fireplace, the ransom letter held loosely in one hand, the lock of Abigail’s hair held in the other. Finally, stirring to the question, he lightly flicked his gaze towards Colette. “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think we will.”
Lord Sutton regarded his friend carefully. “They have more men,” he said calmly. “The constables will have greater physical resources than we.”
The earl nodded. “I understand but I don’t think that we should notify them just yet. Abigail must have had genuine belief in this bastard’s threats else she would not have left. Those clumsy constables will be spotted following a suspect from miles away and I will not risk her neck with their bumbling.”
Quite swiftly, Lord Brynwood folded up the letter and placed it on Lord Sutton’s desk. “I will pay the hundred pounds for now. And then we will see what happens next.”
Colette and Lord Sutton finished their drinks and soon left for bed. It was late and they had all had a long day. Colette had not had a night’s rest since Abigail’s disappearance.
Lord Brynwood remained in the study though. Reading the ransom note, he felt shaken. It brought him back to the night when he himself had been captured by a mercenary ship. They had boarded the Royal Navy’s ship and had fought viciously against the crewmembers. Lord Brynwood had been the only one left standing and once they heard his elegant speech and saw his noble manner, they quickly deduced he would be worth more alive than dead. And so he had quickly been taken onto the Bruja, a large pirate ship that had been successfully trolling the waters of England.
If he closed his eyes, Lord Brynwood could remember the smell of the salt air and the feel of the ocean breeze. He also remembered the sharp-featured face of Raul Cédon, captain of the Bruja and his captor.
The men of the ship had been cold and distant yet they made sure Lord Brynwood never had a moment’s comfort. Captain Cédon was quite particular in his torment of prisoners and Lord Brynwood never forgot his hatred for the pirate. Even after he had stabbed Cédon and left him on an abandoned stretch of beach.
Lord Brynwood remembered the uncertainty of capture. He remembered the desperation and the exhausting levels of adrenaline that kept pumping through him. He also remembered the cruelty of his captors and the freedom they felt in tormenting him.
Lord Brynwood’s hands fisted till his
knuckles turned white. He would get Abigail back. He would make sure that every gutless blackguard who dared to touch her would have his throat ripped out by his own hands.
Of this, he was dead certain.
Four
The next day, Lord Brynwood quickly found the dirty scrap collector. Without any rancor, he gave him a small leather wallet containing exactly one hundred pounds. The thin little man glared at the earl with beady eyes, suspicious of his every move. But as soon as the money exchanged hands, Lord Brynwood turned and walked away without even so much as a second glance back. He wanted to make sure that all involved knew that he would do as the instructions said.
Returning to Lord Sutton’s house, he found Colette and his friend sitting down to lunch. Colette looked quite pale and her plate was untouched. He brushed her shoulder gently as he walked passed her to his seat. Colette looked up and gave him a faint smile.
“Well?” Lord Sutton asked, waving over a maid to make a plate for Lord Brynwood.
Raking a hand through his dark hair, Lord Brynwood gave a slight shrug. “It went as expected. I suppose now we can only wait.”
A maid set down a plate brimming with exquisitely prepared food in front of him. He took a few bites to encourage Colette to eat some more but he had no appetite. He only felt the humming energy that buzzed through his body, crying out for action. But for the sake of Abigail, he needed to be patient. He needed to wait.
Looking at Colette’s dark curls sweeping across her slender neck, Lord Brynwood knew what else he needed. Standing, he offered his hand to Colette. “I think an afternoon rest would be welcomed for us both, don’t you agree, my love?”
Colette’s eyes warmed and a grateful smile wreathed her face. “Yes,” she said softly. “Most welcomed.”
They both fell into each other’s arm as if they were clinging to a lifesaving raft. Though they shared the grief of their loss, they also harbored their own private sadness that swept them up like strong current waves.
Colette took quite a bit of effort to make submissive. She was a naturally dominant person which was why so many men had fallen under her spell yet none had been able to tame her. Until Lord Brynwood.
As he took her lips, molding them to his own, biting the pouty flesh, he could feel her body rising against his. She squirmed underneath him, dodging his touches, urging him to violence. He knew what she needed. She needed him to help push her away from her thoughts. She needed him to peel back the layers of her pain and grief till all she was left with was raw animalness.
Grabbing her wrists he pinned them above her head. By reflex, she jerked against him, tangling the sheets beneath her but Lord Brynwood held firm. Lowering his head, he lapped at a bunched nipple. He heard her quick intake of breath. Knowing he couldn’t hold back for much longer, Lord Brynwood closed his teeth down on the tender bud, biting down hard enough to send a shiver of pain and pleasure down Colette’s back.
Throwing her head back against the pillow, she cried out, heedless of who might hear out in the hallway. She again pulled at her hands but got nowhere. Lord Brynwood’s grip was inflexible and merciless.
Putting both her wrists into one hand, Lord Brynwood reached down with his other and cupped Colette’s waiting and wet pussy. No gentle fingering to awaken it, no teasing licks to coax it. Grabbing the already swollen clit between thumb and forefinger, Lord Brynwood gave her a cruel and unforgiving pinch.
Colette screamed again. The pain burst through her, sending shuddering aftershocks of something akin to ecstasy. The pain had somehow burst the protective bubble around her. She suddenly felt quite naked. Raw.
Lord Brynwood felt his fiancée’s juices slip down his fingers. Feeling her readiness, he wedged himself between her knees and in one swift thrust, plunged the entire length of his cock into her warm hole. Before Colette could cry out again, he took her lips, absorbing her moan.
They stayed locked in that position for a heartbeat. Both of them feeling anchored by one another. Giving into the master of the bed, Colette slowly wrapped her long lean legs around Lord Brynwood, shifting her pussy and seating his cock even deeper into her. She shuddered at the pleasure of the movement.
And together they rocked into each other. They felt the even stretch of her pussy as he thrust his cock rhythmically into her. Lord Brynwood grunted as his balls immediately began to tighten. He bent over Colette’s neck, biting her, owning her.
And with only a handful of thrusts, they came together in shuddering breaths. Lord Brynwood sprayed his hot seed deep into Colette’s womb while they both shook with the force of their orgasm.
As Lord Brynwood wrapped an arm around Colette in preparation for sleep, they nuzzled closer, both not wanting to say out loud how exquisitely felt the absence of Abigail’s sweet body was to each other.
Colette woke a few hours later to find Lord Brynwood looking into the mirror, dressed and straightening his jacket. Sitting up and letting the sheet slip down her ample breasts, she asked, “Where are you going?”
Lord Brynwood crossed the room and kissed her forehead. “I am going with Tony to meet with a constable today to see if any progress has been made. Sleep some more, Colette. You are tired.”
He left her still in bed. Lord Brynwood quickly step down the stairs and saw Lord Sutton leaving his study. Nodding to each other, both men headed towards the front door. As Lord Brynwood opened the door, he nearly tripped over a huddled little boy. Instinctively he grabbed the panicked little street urchin.
He had originally wanted to ask if the child was all right but he noticed the dirty letter, sloppily waxed, in the boy’s hand. His grip tightened on the child’s arm until the boy yelped in pain. Lord Brynwood relaxed his hand but maintained a firm grip.
“What is this? What is going on here?” Lord Sutton asked as he peered around his friend’s shoulder.
Snatching the letter out of the boy’s hand, Lord Brynwood waved it at Lord Sutton. “Apparently a little messenger has brought us our next ransom letter,” he bit out as he glared at the boy.
Rail thin and filthy, the boy flinched under the glare. He pulled and pulled at the earl’s grasp but was no match. “Please, sir, I was only s’pose to knock and drop it off,” he whimpered.
“Well, you’ve dropped it off, all right,” Lord Brynwood said coldly. “And you will stay right here while I read it.”
Lord Sutton stepped forward and grabbed the boy by the arm. Just as tall and broad as Lord Brynwood, the boy trembled under this new captor.
With hands now free, Lord Brynwood cracked the seal and opened the letter.
My dear good Prince Brynwood,
All your business acquaintances must adore working with one who is as prompt and precise with payment as you are yourself, good sir!
I have received the hundred pounds in good health and since my collector has not been molested or followed, I am in better faith about now releasing our dear little Abigail into your custody. You are a very honourable man, I can see.
Now to take away my most reliable employee, I must ask for the price of￡50,000. Truly a bargain, good sir! With such a sweet face and an even sweeter body, why at even a￡100,000 this deal would be a steal! But as you can see, sir, I am not a greedy man. I do not ask for such outlandish sums. Only the more than fair price of￡50,000 for our little Abigail.
You can drop it off with a tall man in a blue vest who will be waiting at the scrap collector’s stall. I expect the exchange by tomorrow evening. Once the sum is safely delivered into my hands, I will release Abigail and you will once again be reunited with your sweet one.
X
At the bottom crease of the letter, there was another curl of Abigail’s hair. Seeing these dismembered locks made Lord Brynwood’s blood run cold. His body nearly spasmed with need for immediate action. But the moment was close and he couldn’t make any mistakes now.
Should he follow this boy at least? He seems easily scared enough to do his bidding. No. No that wouldn’t do. Someone would most
certainly catch them and it would only bring harm to Abigail in the end. But a better idea occurred to him.￡50,000 was a large sum of money and to have a common criminal demand such an amount spoke volumes of his desperation.
Straightening himself to his full height, he looked down at the terrified boy. Whatever misfortunes had led the poor boy into the hands of his master was none of Lord Brynwood’s concerns at the moment. He could only see the delicate line of Abigail’s face.
“Now listen carefully, boy,” Lord Brynwood said quietly in a voice cold enough to freeze water. The boy nodded frantically. “You tell your master that I have received his missive and that you were allowed back into his house without molestation or detainment. But make sure you also tell him that I will pay him his sum only if I pay it in person. That is the only way. Do you understand?”
The boy nodded quickly again, nearly biting his tongue off in the process.
Lord Brynwood nodded. “Good. Then run and deliver my message.”
Lord Sutton let the boy go. As the men watched the little thief run down the cobbled street, Lord Sutton murmured, “Do you think that is wise? We are unsure yet as to the conditions your little one is held in.”
Lord Brynwood nodded. “This is the moment to strike. He has demanded his final sum.” Turning to his friend, his face grew harsh with the seriousness of his plan. “Tony, I will have to further intrude upon your offer of help.”
Lord Sutton’s eyes softened. “Jeremiah, you know I am at your disposal.”
“Good,” the earl countered. “Then we must hurry and speak with the constables. There is much to plan and very little time to plan it in.”
Five
“Oh he said that, did he?” Pinzer asked, his eyes narrowing in displeasure.
Disciplining The Thief - Complete Series (Historical Victorian Forbidden First Time Steamy Romance) Page 10