His Obsession (30 page)

“But there may yet be a happy ending. You
see, there was a rumor that before the young woman died, a child
was born to her.”

Charles stared at Kate, nodding at her with
determination.

Kate frowned, shaking her head at the lord’s
implication. “No. You can’t think that I -”

“Of course! She’s you!” Charles happily
cried.

“No. That’s impossible,” Kate protested,
whirling toward the doors.

“Is it?” Charles questioned, reaching for her
gloved hand. “Then tell me why you look so much like her
grace.”

Kate had a difficult time believing Charles’
fantastic tale. However, there was a small shred of truth which
rang true. Kate had not been born into the Overton family. Her past
was shrouded in mystery, a tale of mistaken identity so incredible
that it had to have some basis in fact.

“I – I think we should return to the party
now,” Kate firmly replied.

“I have a portrait of her.”

“Where?” Kate inquired, turning back toward
Charles.

“It’s at my home here in London,” Charles
explained. “If you’d care to accompany me, I can show it to you
tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” Kate called over her shoulder.
“Perhaps another time.”

“What are you afraid of, countess?” Charles
demanded.

Charles had said the one thing that could
keep Kate on the terrace in the rain. Kate abhorred cowardice in
anyone. She frowned at Charles, drawing herself up to her full
height.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Kate replied,
proudly lifting her chin.

Charles grinned. “Good. My carriage is on the
other side of the garden. We can be there in a few minutes.”

Kate glanced back at the welcoming glow
streaming through the double doors to the ballroom. Perhaps she
should alert Elizabeth and Aunt Lydia that she would be gone for
half an hour or so. Still, the appeal of the lord’s tale had her
quite spellbound.

Was it possible? Could she really be the
granddaughter of the Duke and Duchess of Hawksbury, whom she had
never met? Slowly, Kate rolled the signet ring around her finger.
Such a ring might very well belong to such a fine house.

She certainly would never learn the truth if
she returned to the ballroom. Kate would, no doubt, spend the rest
of the evening chatting with her friends and dancing a few waltzes
and quadrilles, but her one chance to learn who she really was
might be denied her. No, she had to be brave, braver than she had
ever been in her life.

“Very well,” Kate finally responded. “Lead
on, my lord.”

Charles grinned and extended his arm to Kate.
The mysterious lord led Kate toward the steps at the side of the
terrace and Kate clung to the man’s arm as he descended the
slippery stone stairs. The winding path through the gardens wasn’t
much better, either. The drizzling rain had made the pavers
slippery and Kate had no choice but to steady herself on Charles’
arm.

Small droplets of rain dripped from Kate’s
hair onto her forehead and nose, too. Kate found herself regretting
that she hadn’t stopped to fetch her cloak before embarking upon
her adventure, but it was too late now.

“How much farther?” Kate complained.

“Just through here,” Lord Lawton assured
her.

Charles proceeded her through a small opening
between the hedges and drew Kate in after him. The dark greenery
swallowed her up and Kate had to lift her skirts to avoid some of
the puddles on the worn paving stones on the other side.

Suddenly, Charles dropped her hand. A moment
later, a heavy cloth bag was thrown over her head and torso. The
burlap smelled like musty straw and horses. It was difficult to
breathe and Kate cried out, struggling to free herself. Two
muscular arms immediately surrounded her body, drawing the bag
lower to subdue her flailing arms.

“Quickly, Sykes!” Charles hissed. “Before
someone sees us.”

“I’m trying!” his accomplice complained. “But
she won’t be quiet.”

Kate rammed the heel of her shoe down hard
and heard a satisfying yelp as she apparently connected with Sykes’
foot. While the man was hopping about on one foot, Kate grasped the
bottom of the burlap bag and pulled upward.

In the shadows, she saw a plain black coach
and four horses standing in the side street. The coach had no
distinguishing markings, nothing to identify it in any way. That
wasn’t good. There had to be dozens of coaches just like this one
at the ball. Even if someone did see the coach racing away, it
would be almost impossible for anyone to tell one from the
other.

Charles stood off to one side, fiddling with
a bottle and a rag. With an evil grin, Sykes wasted no time in
subduing Kate, imprisoning her with his long arms. Kate screamed
once, but Sykes quickly covered her mouth with his dirty hand. She
tried kicking and lashing out with her arms, too, but Charles’
accomplice was very strong. Now that Sykes had been forewarned,
Kate couldn’t seem to connect with anything vital.

“Hold her!” Charles hissed through his
teeth.

Suddenly, Charles pressed a rag firmly over
Kate’s face. Kate smelled something sickeningly sweet and her
senses soon began to dull. The world was spinning and it was
difficult to maintain her balance. Every time she breathed in, she
got another whiff of the foul smelling gas and her struggles became
weaker and less coordinated. At last, Kate finally hung limp in
Sykes’ arms.

Back in the crowded ballroom, Richard paused
at the open doors to the terrace and gratefully breathed in the
fresh, rain washed air. The ballroom was a hothouse of human
emotions, populated by a bevy of eager young females anxious for
another dance. Richard thought he’d seen Kate dance onto the
terrace with Lord Lawton, but the terrace was apparently now
unoccupied.

Richard frowned. If Charles Lawton thought
he’d coerce Kate into the gardens to steal a kiss or anything more,
he was sadly mistaken. Could his wife be encouraging the young
lord, Richard wondered? That prospect made Richard’s blood
boil.

Braving the rain, Richard stepped out onto
the wet paving stones and approached the terrace railing. Quickly,
he scanned the well-manicured gardens below for some sign of his
wife and Lord Lawton. If they thought that they could steal away
for some sort of assignation, he would certainly rid them of that
notion.

At first, Richard saw nothing out of the
ordinary. Every hedge loomed like an enormous black beast in the
fading light. Some of the white and yellow flowers glowed in the
darkness with a kind of eerie, pale light and the stone benches
strategically placed along the paths lurked in the shadows like
huge black panthers, waiting to pounce on any who ventured near.
There was no sort of shelter where a couple might find some
sanctuary. The gardens appeared deserted.

At last, Richard caught a glimpse of
something moving near the west garden wall. Whether it was a face
or one of Kate’s pale shoulders, Richard couldn’t say. Hastily, he
plunged down the steps and hurried into the garden. Ignoring the
muddy earth, Richard pushed through some of the flowerbeds, cutting
across country to save time.

Richard reached the garden gate and frowned
at what he saw there. Two men were attempting to lift an
unconscious woman into a horse drawn coach. The larger of the two
assailants was dragging her into the conveyance while Lord Lawton
assisted by pushing her legs inside.

Richard was furious. He couldn’t stand by
while a helpless woman was abducted in front of his eyes. The woman
might be Kate or one of her friends. Although Richard had seen
nothing to identify the female, he couldn’t help wondering if Kate
was hidden beneath the heavy burlap bag covering the woman’s head
and torso.

Richard strode forward and grasped Lord
Lawton’s shoulder from behind. Immediately, Charles dropped the
woman’s leg and turned toward the new arrival.

“What the --?” Charles gasped.

Richard planted his fist into Charles’ face.
With one blow, Charles toppled onto the wet gravel, sliding on his
back through a deep mud puddle. The furious lord sat up, shaking
his head in an attempt to clear it. Wet, sticky mud dripped from
his hands and arms as he struggled to rise.

Seeing that his master was in trouble, Sykes
momentarily dropped his burden and turned on the adversary. Sykes
stood well over six feet in height and his massive shoulders nearly
blotted out the light gleaming from the coach’s side lights. His
legs were the size of tree trunks and his upper arms showed he was
used to hard manual labor. Richard realized that if the man ever
connected with one of his punches, he’d go down immediately.
Obviously, battling the man-mountain would take some skill.

Slowly, the two combatants circled each
other, searching for a weakness in the other’s defenses. Sykes
might have sheer brawn on his side, but Richard had speed and
cunning. If he could tire out Charles’ accomplice, the earl
realized he might stand a chance.

Without warning, Sykes suddenly charged.
Richard barely moved aside in time to allow the ruffian to rush
past him, where he unfortunately embedded himself in one of the
tall garden hedges. Recovering quickly, Sykes picked himself out of
the greenery and returned to the gentleman waiting by the
coach.

Richard kept his fists raised hear his chin,
ready for the big man’s attack. Sykes swung with a massive right
hook, but Richard neatly ducked the blow. The large man tried to
strike Richard again, this time arcing up with his left fist.
Richard allowed the punch to go wide, then wove back to punch Sykes
instead.

The henchman’s jaw was like iron. Richard’s
fist smarted a little, but he nonetheless prepared himself for the
next blow. Once again, the large man swung at Richard’s face, but
the earl neatly ducked the punch, bobbing up again in
readiness.

Behind the two combatants, Lord Lawton slowly
staggered to his feet. His ears were ringing, his jaw felt as
though it was dislocated and he was soaking wet. His best suit was
ruined. He also realized that if he didn’t get rid of Richard
quickly, the capable earl might very well thwart the kidnapping
completely. Smiling at Sykes, Charles approached Richard from the
rear. Sandwiched between the two adversaries, Richard stood little
chance of escape.

Seizing his chance, Sykes swung with his left
fist, aiming for Richard’s head. Richard ducked and kicked Sykes in
the shin. Now off balance, Sykes’ arm plowed forward over Richard’s
head, connecting with Lord Lawton’s jaw. The impact was so severe,
Richard could swear that he heard bones break.

For a moment, Charles Lawton stood where he
was, his arms dangling uselessly by his sides. A few seconds later,
his pale eyes rolled toward the top of his head and the lord fell
to the ground, unconscious.

Distantly, Richard heard voices approaching
them through the garden. Apparently, they’d raised enough of a
commotion that some of the other guests and servants had come to
investigate.

Desperate now, Sykes swung wildly. The large
man was like a human windmill, flailing left and right in a
determined attempt to knock Richard to the ground and make good his
escape.

Out of the corner of his eye, Richard saw the
woman’s body begin to slide back through the carriage door.
Apparently, when Sykes had been interrupted, he hadn’t succeeded in
carrying the lady completely inside the vehicle and gravity was now
helping the woman’s silk clad body to slide through the narrow
opening.

Sykes grabbed the whip from the front of the
coach and began to beat Richard with it. Richard attempted to dodge
as many of the blows as he could, but some of them connected all
the same. He felt blood oozing from a cut on his right cheek. Sykes
had managed to graze the back of Richard’s left hand, too. Sykes
grinned as Richard raised a hand to his face and his fingers came
away bloody. First blood belonged to Sykes. It seemed to be a very
good omen.

Ever so slowly, the woman’s body continued to
slide through the carriage door. As she did, the burlap bag
retreated up her torso, revealing more and more of her slender
body. Richard crossed to the carriage and abruptly shoved the
female back inside. Unconscious as she was, she was of no help to
him, but he couldn’t very well allow her to slide out of the coach
into the muddy street. She might be trampled or run over if that
occurred.

While Richard was otherwise occupied, Sykes
saw his chance. Raising his right arm high, he cracked the whip
with all of his might. Fortunately, Richard lurched out of the way.
The tip of the whip sailed over his head and struck one of the
horse’s flanks. The mare reared in pain and fright and the other
horses became agitated.

“No!” Richard gasped, hurrying to catch the
horse’s bridle. “Easy, girl. Easy.”

In his efforts to save the woman in the
coach, Richard had inadvertently disclosed a weakness to Sykes.
Apparently, the elegantly dressed gentleman cared for the female.
He was distracted and his attention couldn’t be everywhere.

Sykes grinned. Quickly, he took advantage of
the earl’s momentary lapse and swung the whip at the horses. Once
again, the tip of the whip connected with the horse’s right flank
and the injured mare reared. The other horses picked up on her
panic and galloped away, dragging the unconscious woman in the
coach behind them.

Richard swore.

Suddenly, one of the servants appeared
through the opening in the hedges and held his lantern high. The
golden glow illuminated the two combatants as they battled in the
muddy street.

By now, rain cascaded off Richard’s face and
nose. His elegant clothes were soaked through with a combination of
rain and sweat and the prospect of having his brain matter
rearranged by Sykes was rapidly becoming tiresome. Richard had to
dispose of Sykes quickly, then go rescue the lady in the speeding
coach.