by Wendy Vella
“No one speak again.”
They walked through a silent house, and Primrose tried to wriggle, but the man who held her had a hand clamped over her legs. She didn’t know where they were going as she couldn’t see, and the jostling upside-down position was making her nauseous. Inhaling through her nose, Primrose tried to stay calm. She would need a clear head to deal with what came next.
The cool night air hit her minutes later.
“Take her to the carriage, quickly.”
How was she to stop them and raise the alarm?
She was jostled as they started running, and her stomach rolled. Primrose had never been able to cope with a rolling carriage like her brother had. On the rare trips she had accompanied them, they had stopped to accommodate her travel sickness. Yet another difference between her and her family.
“Open the door.”
She was thrown onto a seat, then two men joined her.
“Move, Miss Ainsley, and I will simply shoot you.”
In the dimness, her gaze sought the owner of that voice. Mr. Sanders was staring calmly down at her from the opposite seat.
“You have made my situation extremely uncomfortable, Miss Ainsley. I need a moment to work out what it is I will do with you.”
“I say kill her.”
Primrose’s eyes shot to the other man, but she did not recognize him. She tried to dislodge the rag in her mouth, but it was wedged tight. She made a gagging sound, but no one removed it.
“No. It is bad enough that we have riled the Duke of Rossetter by stealing his prized book. I have no wish to rile more people and have them chase me down.”
“Then what?”
“Perhaps she will have to come with us for a while. We will leave her somewhere to be released in a few days. By the time she can get word back to Rossetter , we will have left these shores.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Yes.” Mr. Sanders leaned closer, so close his face was only a few inches from hers. He smiled down at her, and looked nothing like the man she knew. This one had a sinister cast to his face that made her shiver. Primrose closed her eyes and tried to think. She would have to get herself out of this, as no one knew she was being taken. But that was nothing new for Primrose; she was always alone.
Ben wandered through the gardens and down the drive toward the stables. He couldn’t sleep… again. It was becoming quite a habit, and he blamed it all on her. Miss Primrose Ainsley was destroying his peace, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about that.
Once the ten-piece orchestra tuning their instruments inside his head after the pie and pint run had moved on and he could think rationally again, he’d remembered what he’d felt like when he’d seen her on the finish line. The drunken euphoria he’d experienced just because she was near had been very real. His usual self-preservation filter had been lowered, and the instinct to go to her, hold and kiss her, had been strong. Instead he’d made a fool of himself, and she’d run for the hills.
He’d realized when his head had cleared that he could no longer deny she had somehow slipped under his usually impenetrable defenses. However, Ben had no doubt that he could dislodge her; it would just take time and dedication to the cause.
He’d tried to itemize all her flaws, but that didn’t make her any less appealing. She was irritating and opinionated, but only with him. In fact, with others she was all that was sweet. The staff loved her, as she was constantly smiling or offering them a kind word. She talked too much and didn’t seem to care overly what he thought of her, but he found those traits charming. What did that say about him?
He’d reasoned that she was attractive, but no more so than others; in fact in some cases a great deal less. That hadn’t worked, as all he could think about was her lovely body and soft lips.
Avoiding her had made him wonder where she was, but he’d stuck to that as best he could over the past two days, and even spent time with other young ladies at the house party. He’d been bored as stiff as his shirt points in no time, but he’d kept up the façade of disinterest in Primrose. Not that she appeared to mind. She’d been spending a great deal of time with that idiot Sanders.
The sound of a horse snorting dragged him from his disturbing thoughts, alerting him to the fact that either one had broken free from the stables, or someone was up ahead.
Moving to the left, he blended in with the trees and walked slowly forward. This part of the drive was hidden from the house and could be accessed from the side of the garden through a series of paths.
“Did you get it?”
“It’s inside. You’ll have to ride up there with Bob, John, as we have another package to carry now.”
They spoke in hushed tones, but their voices carried in the still night air.
“What is it?”
One of the voices was cultured, the other not. Ben moved closer; his curiosity was piqued. The meeting appeared to be of a secretive nature.
“A lady saw us when we stole the book. I had to bring her before she alerted someone.”
Ben’s heart dropped to the soles of his feet. Why did he believe the lady they referred to was Primrose? Surely she was tucked up in her bed dreaming of him, and if not him then at least her cuttings.
“What lady? Don’t tell me it’s one of them toffs. That’ll bring trouble down on us, it will.”
“It’s no one important, only Miss Ainsley. No one will be overly worried about her disappearance for a while. They’ll be curious as to what’s happened to her, of course, but not as worried as if it was one of the others.”
What? Of course people would be worried if Primrose went missing! How dare someone suggest otherwise!
“Get up with Bob and hurry about it, or someone will see us!”
Ben had no time to return to the stables for a horse. There were crossroads not far from Two Oaks; if he delayed to saddle a mount, then took the wrong road, he may never see Primrose again. A sharp pain in his chest told him that would haunt him forever.
Moving out of the shadows, he saw a large, lumbering carriage start rolling down the driveway. It had yet to pick up speed and was obviously trying to make a quiet getaway.
Ben started running. It had a rear seat, and he saw no shape in it to suggest it was occupied. When he was close enough, he jumped, catching the edge of the seat. Pulling himself up and onto it, he tucked himself down low as the carriage began to pick up speed.
He knew Primrose would be terrified inside, distressed, and wondering if she’d ever see her friends and family again, but he couldn’t confront anyone yet. If he did and the driver panicked, the horse may veer out of control and the carriage could crash with Primrose inside. Ben could not allow her to be hurt. No, he was best to wait and see where they stopped. He would rescue her then.
He wondered who the man with the cultured voice was. He couldn’t put a face to it, but he would, and then he would be made to pay. No one was abducting Primrose and getting away with it.
When would someone realize he was missing? Would he rescue Primrose and be back before the sun rose? Ben thought about the knife he usually carried that was still in his rooms at Rossetter . Unarmed, with only his wits, he lay between Primrose and whatever these men intended to do with her.
At least he always carried money. Finn had instilled this in the twins. ‘You must always be prepared to bribe someone.’
He worked through plans inside his head as the miles passed. Ben was good at that, better than Alex. He was the rational twin. Looking for landmarks, he soon realized they were headed to the coast; he just wasn’t sure where or why.
Thinking back over the conversation he’d heard, Ben guessed the Clipper book was inside the carriage. It was extremely likely that if Primrose had seen them attempting to steal it, she would have taken action and not given a thought to her well-being.
Bloody fool.
He was now the only person who could ensure her safety.
Ben soon fell into a doze with his cheek pressed to the c
arriage, so he wasn’t sure how long they’d been travelling when it began to slow. From the cramping in his thighs and the glow of approaching dawn, he guessed it was some time.
As the carriage slowed to roll into a courtyard, Ben took the opportunity to climb off the back. His legs didn’t want to work, and he landed on his backside. Hitting the ground hard snapped his teeth together and jarred right through his body, but he was soon up and running until he was concealed by the stables.
Moving as close as he could, he stopped within hearing distance of the carriage that had now halted before the two-story inn. The door opened, and out stepped two men. Primrose was still inside.
Sanders! The man had fooled them all. He’d come across as easy in his manners, and almost awkward. But what he’d been doing was infiltrating the house with the purpose of stealing the book.
“I’ve given her a healthy dose of a sleeping draft, so she’s slumbering.”
“What’s that wrapped around your hand?” the other man, who Ben didn’t recognize, said.
“The bitch bit me.”
Ben heard a muffled chuckle.
“Yes, well, I taught her respect.”
Anger had his fists clenching, but he made himself stay hidden. He could not help Primrose if he charged in and got captured himself.
“Right. Bring the book and her. I have already paid the proprietor a great sum of money, so no questions will be asked.”
“You go on and rest easy in your soft bed, your majesty,” Ben heard the other man mutter as Sanders walked away.
Creeping closer, Ben watched as he reentered the carriage, then appeared with Primrose in his arms.
Seeing her defenseless, arms hanging and head lolling, had his anger climbing. He wanted to charge over there and grab her, but knew again he had to show patience, no matter how desperate he felt to reach her.
Slinking back into the shadows as someone led the horses away, he moved behind the stables and waited.
Chapter Twenty-One
Her head felt thick and her body lethargic as she struggled to open her eyes.
“Wake up, Primrose.”
“C-can’t.”
Something cool was laid over her face.
“You must; try harder.”
“C-can’t.” She closed her eyes and fell back into sleep.
“God’s blood, you are a trying woman.”
Cracking her eyes open, she tried to find the owner of that voice, but his face swam.
“Up you get.”
He was whispering in her ear, and his breath tickled, making her laugh.
“Sssh! You have to be quiet now, Primrose, while I untie you.”
“’Kay,” she managed to get out. Her tongue felt ridiculously large inside her mouth.
She was lifted then, and they were moving.
“F-feel bad.” Her head started to swim.
“Hold on.”
Scrunching her eyes tight, she breathed through her nose in an attempt to battle the nausea. She felt them going down, and then relief as cool air brushed her face. They walked for a few more minutes, and then she was lowered to the ground. Managing to get to her knees, Primrose tried to shake the fog from her head.
“I’m sorry to have to do this, but it is a necessity.”
Before she could draw another breath, her head was plunged into cold water. Spluttering, she tried to scream, but she was submerged again.
“Don’t scream; they’ll hear us.”
Now awake, Primrose glared up at Benjamin Hetherington.
“You’ll still be woozy, but at least you’re awake now.”
“Was that absolutely n-necessary?”
“Absolutely.”
Primrose bit her lip to keep from shrieking at him. Her face was wet, as was the front of her dress. Looking skyward, she saw the sun just beginning to rise.
“The book!” Primrose tried to regain her feet, but a large hand stopped her.
“We are not going back in there for a book.”
“It’s not just any book, but the book.”
They were crouched beside a horse trough, the one she’d just been dunked into. He was close, so close she could smell his scent. Until that moment, Primrose hadn’t even realized she knew it so well.
“Why are you here?” Scrunching her eyes shut several times, she fought to clear her vision. When that didn’t work she cupped the water and drank deep.
“Horses have been drinking out of that.”
“They have excellent taste.” She drank another handful.
“I saw the carriage and heard that you had been captured and were inside, so I jumped on the back.”
“That was terribly brave of you.”
“Wasn’t it, though. You’ll be forever in my debt now.” His eyes were on the inn they had just left. He was on one knee, one hand braced on the trough. Primrose thought he looked wonderful.
“It’s hardly chivalrous to expect payment for your good deeds.”
He laughed, just a soft snuffle, but it made her lips twitch.
“Perhaps we can leave this discussion for another time. Are you feeling all right, Primrose?”
“My jaw is a little sore, and my head is still fuzzy, but otherwise I am well.”
Gentle fingers lifted her face and studied it.
“Who struck you?”
“Mr. Sanders.”
The fingers tightened briefly and then fell away. She watched him pull off his necktie and lower it into the water. He then pressed it to her jaw.
“I’ll kill him for you.”
“I-I don’t think that will be necessary.” She wasn’t entirely sure if he was serious or not.
“No one should strike a lady.”
“Benjamin, I’m all right… really. Thank you.”
His jaw was clenched, the muscles bunching and releasing.
“There are too many of them for us to do anything anyway,” Primrose said. “However, I think it best we hide and then follow them when they leave.”
His eyes were suddenly focused on her.
“We are leaving now. Returning to Rossetter .”
“No, we cannot do that.”
“I’m not arguing about this, Primrose.” He regained his feet and started to walk, towing her with him. As she was stumbling, he held her pressed to his side. They were soon out of sight, nestled in some bushes. Primrose sat once more, as her legs were still unsteady. “I will steal a horse, and then we’re leaving.”
Primrose grabbed his lapels to stop him moving.
“We have to get the book back.”
“Don’t be foolish, we cannot do that. Our best course is to leave and set the authorities on to doing so.”
“No, Benjamin, don’t you see, it has to be us. If The History Of Plants leaves here, it will never be seen again.”
“For heaven’s sake, woman, it’s a book!”
She could see he was frustrated, but Primrose had to make him understand.
“But not just any book. If it is lost, then we shall never benefit from it again, because if it goes offshore it will sit in some private collection in some dark, dingy room.”
“You don’t know that!” His whisper was hissed in fury. “It could be going to a school for all you know. Besides, the duke keeps it in a dark, dingy library.”
“But he lets people who wish to see it do so, and that is the point here. We will never again learn from its many wonderful pages if it leaves these shores. Don’t you see, Benjamin, we must do this. It is our duty to Lucian Clipper and those who came after him.”
“You cannot actually be serious?”
“Historians and botanists regularly visit Rossetter House to read that book. Some of the workings in there are taught at universities and schools. You must try and understand its significance.”
“I am not a fool,” he snapped in a tone that suggested she’d hurt his feelings. Surely not. The man was so confident in everything he did or said, respected by his peers and adored by women.
> “I understand that, and that is why I am appealing to you. We must get that book back.”
“Primrose.” He sighed her name. “It is too dangerous. If you insist, I will follow them and send you back on horseback or in a hired carriage, but I cannot allow you to get hurt again.”
“You would do that?” Something warm and heavy settled inside her chest.
“If I did not, I fear I will never get you to return to Rossetter .”
“I will not be going, but it is a very generous gesture.” Primrose could do nothing to stop the yawn that overcame her.
“You will be going back to Rossetter , make no mistake on that.”
Primrose struggled to her feet, determined to make a stand. Unfortunately, her legs did not obey her. She fell in a heap on her backside.
“My legs don’t appear to be working.”
“Whatever sleeping draft they gave you will take some time to dissipate.”
“I’m not leaving, Mr. Hetherington.”
He was looking out from their hiding place beyond the stables, his eyes going from left to right and back again.
“You called me Benjamin before. I would like you to continue to do so, especially considering the circumstances we find ourselves in.”
She didn’t say anything, just hid another yawn.
“Come, we will find somewhere more comfortable for you to sleep, then be ready when they are to leave.”
“No. I have no wish to leave this place for fear of missing them, or fear of you letting them go.”
His hesitation told Primrose her guess had been correct.
“We need to move further down the road. Once there we can get a horse, and hopefully food. Besides, that carriage will not be leaving anytime soon.”
“Why?”
“I managed to disable it, but that will only be a brief respite.”
“That was very clever of you.”
“You sound shocked.”
“No, I’m not. I know you are an intelligent man when you wish to be.”
“I don’t have time to lock horns with you over that comment right now.”
She was lifted with ease into his arms.
“I can walk.”