Dora had chosen a white muslin dress embroidered with sprigs of tiny lavender flowers and mint leaves. She slipped it over Josie’s head, fastened the back, and puffed up the tiny sleeves.
Josie checked her image in the cheval mirror and was satisfied to see she didn’t look as exhausted as she felt.“And isn’t part of being prepared knowing what is scheduled to happen?”
“Yes.” Dora wrapped a narrow dark green ribbon sash around Josie just under her bustline and tied it in a bow at the back.
“Then how can you send me out that door totally ignorant of what Lord Waite has planned?”
“But it is sooo beautiful. I’m sure you’ll like it.”
Josie sat at the dressing table and picked up her brush.“I’m sure I will. But I would like it better if I had an idea of what was coming.”
The maid’s shoulders slumped.“Instead of breakfast on the terrace, I’m to bring you to the folly.”
“What’s a folly?”
“The building in the garden. Halfway down the drive there’s a path that leads through the grove. Oh, miss, his lordship wanted to surprise you. Don’t tell him I told you.”
Josie didn’t see what the big deal was.“All right.”
“We’ve all been up since the wee hours to make everything perfect. Cook has prepared special dishes and the gardener picked dozens of his most fragrant blooms to decorate the folly like a rose bower, and the footmen moved furniture, the table and chairs and the chaise, and lots of pillows and...”
“Whoa!” Josie jumped up. Sounded more like Dev was planning a seduction rather than breakfast. As far as she was concerned, walk in the garden was not a euphemism for sex. She spun around and marched toward the door.“Come along, Dora. His lordship is going to get a piece of my mind.”
“But, miss! Your bonnet? Your gloves?”
“Whatever. Bring them along if you must, but hurry.” Josie wanted to confront Dev before her indignation cooled. She left the maid scurrying around the room in a panic.
“Wait, miss.Your shawl,” Dora called as she followed down the hall.
Josie marched down the main stairs. How dare that man make such a big deal out of a simple breakfast meeting. Did everyone in the castle have to know about it? Did everyone think she and Dev were going to walk in the garden?
She passed the surprised butler and didn’t pause for him to open the door.The heavy portal moved easily on oiled hinges and smacked the side of the house as she sailed through.The crushed shells on the drive crunched under her feet. “Ouch.” She moved to the side of the road and into the soft grass.The morning dew quickly soaked her shoes, but she did not slow down.
“Please, miss,” Dora called.“Wait for me. I have your parasol.”
Josie did not bother to turn even though Dora sounded farther away than before. At the clip-clop and jangle of approaching harness horses, she moved another few feet into the lawn to give them wide berth.When the carriage stopped a few feet behind her, she glanced over her shoulder to see Hargrave leap down. She picked up her pace, hoping he would take the hint and leave her alone. She wasn’t in the mood for more of his inane conversation.
“Miss Drummond?”
She knew he followed her but didn’t slack off her pace. She was beginning to feel like a drum major leading a parade. “Not now, Mr. Hargrave. I’m late for an appointment.”
Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back off her feet. She heard a scream but knew it wasn’t hers because a hand covered her mouth, cutting off her air. Her shoes slipped in the slick grass as she struggled to stand. She clawed at the hand covering half her face, but the thick fingers would not budge.
“Eager for your little tête-à-tête with Waite, are you?” Hargrave hissed in her ear. “Just like a bitch in heat.”
He lurched to the side, pulling her with him.
“Let her go, you beast,” Dora cried from nearby.
She must have jumped on his back, because Josie caught glimpses of a folded parasol swinging wildly overhead.
“Let...” Crack. “Her...” Crack. “Go!” Crack.
“Get this lunatic off me,” Hargrave shouted. Seconds later he spun Josie around.The coachman dragged an inert Dora into the nearby stand of trees. Blood seeped from her nose and stained the front of her apron. Josie said a quick prayer that the maid would be all right.Then she added her own name to that very short list.
“Hurry up,” Hargrave said to the coachman. “And pick up all those things she dropped on your way back. I don’t want to leave anything to sound the alarm.”
While the hulking coachman did his bidding, Josie continued to struggle. Hargrave may have been only inches taller than she, but he was built like a barrel and had a grip of iron.
“Get her feet,” Hargrave said when the coachman returned moments later.
Josie kicked and kicked with all her might, catching the villain on the chin at least once, but to no avail. The two men lifted her and shoved her into the carriage. She scrambled to the other side, shook the door handle, and pounded on the panel, but it would not open.
Hargrave leaped inside behind her, and the carriage jerked into motion. He lurched onto the seat across from her and then straightened his lapels and smoothed back his hair. “You may as well make yourself comfortable. I assume you’re smart enough not to jump from a moving carriage, and it’s a long drive to Gretna Green.”
She scooted as far away from him as she could and crossed her arms. “Why are you doing this? What could you possibly hope to gain?”
He laughed.“Everything. Once we are married, your inheritance will buy me back my life, the life I was born to lead.”
“You can’t actually expect me to marry you after...this?”
“With your reputation in shreds, you will have no choice.”
“Read my lips. I will never marry you.”
“And if you don’t agree to cooperate...”
“Killing me would defeat your purpose.”
“Nothing so barbaric.” He withdrew a tiny vial from his breast pocket. “One dose of this drug and you will agree to do anything I say. I’ve found it quite handy.” He returned the bottle and patted his coat into place. “Now if you will excuse me,” he said, slouching into the corner and propping his boots on the seat next to her.“It’s been a long night, and a man should look his best for his wedding.”
“There will be no wedding.”
He grinned and then tipped his hat down over his eyes.Within minutes his snores rattled louder than the wheels.
Josie could not have slept even if she wanted to. How long would it be until she was missed? How long before Dora regained consciousness? If she regained consciousness. If she didn’t,how would anyone know what had happened? How long would Dev wait for her in the folly before he came looking for her? That is, if he even bothered to look for her.
Stop it! No use worrying about that. She had better concentrate on her current predicament.
As long as the carriage was in motion, especially at this clip, she dared not jump. But it would have to slow down sometime. Stop to rest the horses or even change to another team. How long could the poor beasts keep up the present pace?
Dev paced the folly. He didn’t bother to check his watch yet again. The sun had climbed well above the horizon, the coffee had cooled, and the egg soufflé had collapsed into a disgusting lump.
Josie was not coming.
Not that it mattered.A bit of wasted effort, that’s all. Insignificant. He picked up the bouquet of deep red roses that he’d personally selected.
And threw them across the room.
Damn. That aggravating woman had reduced him to childish temper tantrums.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened his cravat. A moment of foolishness, that’s all.
He grabbed the no-longer-quite-so-chilled champagne and poured a generous portion. Brandy would have been preferable, but the bubbling wine was the acceptable choice for breakfast. He drained the glass and took up
the bottle again. Rather than refill the glass, he tossed it after the roses and took a long swig straight.
Josie deserved a proper setdown for her rudeness. And he was just the one to do it. He spun on his heel and descended the four steps down from the folly in two long strides. As he strode along the path through the trees, he whipped up his indignation to cover his disappointment.
Just before he stepped onto the lawn a strange noise gave him pause. He listened. What sounded like a painful moan came from deep in the brambles. Josie? Could she have been hurt?
He bullied his way through the underbrush and discovered one of the maids lying facedown beneath a tree. He knelt, gently turned her over, and propped her head on his arm.
“Dora? Are you all right? What happened?”
She appeared to be breathing normally if a bit noisily. Using his free hand he awkwardly withdrew his handkerchief, poured a bit of the champagne on it, and wiped her face. Her eyelids flickered open. “Oh, your lordship. It’s you again. Are you going to sing to me some more?” Her eyelids drifted shut.
The woman had obviously suffered a head injury.“Drink,” he commanded, holding the bottle to her lips.
She took a healthy swig. She reached out to touch his arm, and her eyes widened to saucers. “Oh, my, you’re real,” she cried and sat up. “Oh, my.” She grabbed her head with her hands and swayed.“Oh.”
“Slowly,” he said. “Can you tell me what happened?” She seized his arm.“You’ve got to help her.”
“Who?”
“My miss.That horrible man took her.”
As hard as it was to keep his voice calm when his gut was churning, he knew he would get more information if Dora did not slip further into hyste-ria.“ Do you mean Josie?”
“Yes, yes. You’ve got to find her.”
“Take another drink,” he said, handing her the bottle.“Now take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”
“We were on our way to the folly,” she began and managed to relate the incident with only a few tears.“Why would anyone want to hurt my miss?”
He had a pretty good idea of Hargrave’s motivation. Dev could kick himself. He’d seen the determined look in that villain’s eye the night before. When he’d told Hargrave to back away from Josie, the man had looked like a gambler who thought he held a winning hand and was too desperate to fold when the stakes were raised above his purse. Dev should have insisted the man leave the premises.
He stood.“I will find her,”he promised.He looked down at the poor maid, still seated and hugging the bottle of champagne to her breast. She sniffed and wiped her tears and nose with her bloody apron.
“Do you trust me?”
She nodded.
“I want you to go to the folly, finish that bottle, and then take a nice long nap. When you wake, clean yourself up and go back to the house as if nothing had happened. If anyone asks about the stains on your apron, say you walked into a door and got a bloody nose.”
“You’re not going to raise a hue and cry? Rouse the servants and neighbors to help you look?”
“Your mistress will be better served if no one knows Hargrave took her off. Wait in her rooms for her return. She’ll want a hot bath and a long rest. Don’t worry. I think I know where they’ve gone. I’ll bring her back safe and sound.”
If he’d guessed the right destination.
If he picked the same road.
If he was in time.
Josie fought the drowsiness caused by the swaying coach, monotonous view, and boring company. By her reckoning three hours had passed and the horses had not slowed significantly at any point. If she was going to have a chance to escape, she would have to make it happen.
“Hey, Hargrave,” she said.When he continued to snore, she poked his foot a couple of times with the parasol that had been thrown in behind her along with her bonnet and shawl.“Hargrave.”
He raised his hat and glared at her.“What?”
“Is there an inn on this godforsaken road? I’m starving.”
He sat up, put his feet on the floor, and twisted in his seat to open a panel behind his head, revealing a small storage compartment. He took out a half loaf of bread and a chunk of cheese and threw them on the seat next to her. Right where his dirty boots had been.
She wrinkled her nose.
“Have you ever seen Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew?Yes? Then you should take the bard’s advice to heart.” He again tipped his hat over his eyes.
He’d obviously missed the whole point of the play and the fact that it was supposed to be a comedy, not a blueprint of admirable behavior. He was no Petru-chio, and she was no Katharina, but she was willing to play the part of a shrew.
“Hargrave.”
“What?” He didn’t bother to remove his hat.
“Do you also have a chamber pot in there? I have to pee.”
He sat up.“My, my. Such a fine example of delicate womanhood. After we’re married I expect you to watch your language.”
She bit her tongue.
He knocked on the panel behind him, and immediately the carriage began to slow. If she’d known that was all it took, she would’ve done it hours ago.
“I could do with a bit of leg stretching myself,” he said.
The carriage stopped at the side of a deserted road, the coachman opened the door, and Hargrave alighted first. He stepped away, waving his arms and doing knee lifts. Josie was left to clamber down as best she could. As she sidled around the back of the carriage, she noted the coachman was already busy seeing to the horses. If she could just get out of sight in the woods, she could take off. Surely she would come across some sign of civilization sooner or later.
“Stay with the horses,” Hargrave said to the coachman. “And keep your eyes to yourself.We have private business.”
She glanced back and saw her captor unwinding a length of rope.
“Can’t have you going too far away,” he said to her.
She ran. But the hours seated in the carriage had not been kind, and her leg muscles protested the sudden activity. An imminent cramp burned down the back of her leg. She continued to hobble as fast as she could.
Hargrave grabbed her. Even though she stomped on his toes and kicked his shins, her dainty shoes had little effect on his thick, knee-high boots. He soon had her immobile, her right arm wedged against his side and his left arm wrapped over her shoulders. His left hand gripped her just above the elbow and pinned her other arm.
With his hand he reached for the vial of drugs. “You’ll be sorry you caused me so much trouble.” He flipped out the cork with his thumb and raised the nasty-smelling bottle to her lips.
She twisted her head away.
He was forced to turn her toward him, and when he did, she resisted until he pulled harder. Then she reversed her bearing and used the impetus of his uncontrolled reaction to add extra impact as she bent her leg. She kneed him in the groin.
Hargrave immediately released her and fell into the dirt with a pained groan.
Her self-defense teacher would have been so proud.
He moaned and whined like a baby.Okay, a foulmouthed baby. His words were indistinct, muttered between his gritted teeth, but she caught the drift.
Pleased with herself, she grabbed the rope and tied Hargrave up while he was still incapacitated. She was concentrating so hard on tying him securely, she failed to notice a horse and rider galloping down the road until they were practically on top of her. She dove out of the way, cursed the careless rider under her breath, and continued her task.
As she secured his legs, she remembered the coachman and glanced up to check on him. He was out of sight in front of the carriage about eighty yards down the road.
Was that all the distance she’d managed to run? She really was going to have to get serious about going to the gym regularly.
As she secured Hargrave’s wrists, the sound of a single horse walking toward her caused her to look up.
Dev pulled the beast to a stop. He cro
oked one leg over the pommel and propped his elbow on his knee. “I’d offer my services, but you seem to be doing rather well.”
Josie stood up and dusted off her hands. After smoothing her dress, she retrieved the stuff she’d dropped when Hargrave had tackled her. She draped the shawl over her arm and plopped the bonnet on her head, not bothering to tie the ribbons. Her first inclination was to leave the parasol, but then she thought of a good use for the silly thing.
She poked Hargrave with the pointy end. “Let that be a lesson to you.”
Another string of invectives spewed out of his mouth.
She turned to Dev.“May I have your handkerchief?”
He held it out to her. His mount shied at the white flag flapping in the breeze.
“Easy, Galahad.”
Even though Dev kept the enormous horse under control, the beast’s withers twitched and he pawed the road with his front hooves in apparent annoyance with the sudden inactivity after the freedom of a long gallop.
“Toss it to me,” she requested, not wanting to get any closer to Dev’s stallion than necessary.After catching the large square of linen, she stuffed it into Hargrave’s mouth and secured it by wrapping the last of the long rope around his head.
Suddenly she remembered. “Ohmigod. I forgot the coachman.” She spun around.
“He should wake up in a few hours with a pounding headache,” Dev said.
“Good.”
“Vengeful little wench, aren’t you?”
“You don’t know the half of what I’ve been through.”
“Well, it hasn’t been much of a rescue...”
“I really do appreciate your help.”
“But if you will return to the carriage, I shall be honored to drive...”
“I’m not getting back in there. Not ever.” She turned and headed away from the coach.
Dev followed along, keeping his horse to a sedate walk beside her. She moved further to the side of the road, but there was no soft green lawn to cushion her steps. Only rocks and twigs and sticks and more rocks.
“Would you like to ride? Galahad can handle double...”
“No, thank you.” She did not slow her pace, but she couldn’t keep from wincing as her feet and leg muscles protested. “Ouch. It’s not that I’m, ouch, ungrateful for your help. I’m not fond of riding.”
Laurie Brown Page 15