Sally MacKenzie Bundle (259 page)

George nodded. “Philip and I had taken Harry out to the park in the square. We saw Anne come out of the house and step toward the road—and then a black carriage flew round the corner and stopped in front of her.”

“We couldn’t see who they were, sir,” Philip said, “but there were at least two of them.”

“One man had his hat pulled low and his muffler pulled up to his nose,” George said. “The other fellow must have been riding inside the coach.”

Philip nodded. “There wasn’t a crest on the door, at least not on the side we could see, but the man in the coach—the one who actually grabbed Anne—howled how Brentwood needed to pay him more.”

George grinned and said with definite pride, “Anne bit him, sir. She’s pluck to the backbone, isn’t she?”

“She most certainly is.” The ice in his veins dropped about twenty degrees. Anne was now in a carriage with an angry man, likely from one of London’s worst stews. He could only hope the rogue was enough afraid of Brentwood that he wouldn’t harm her. There was clearly no time to waste. “Did you see which way they went?”

“Down Upper Brook Street.” Philip shook his head, looking thoroughly disgusted with himself. “We gave chase, but the coach was too fast. We lost it at Park Street.”

“We wouldn’t have lost it if you hadn’t kept me from dashing across in front of that curricle.”

“The curricle would have hit you; you couldn’t help Anne if you were run over.” Philip glared at George, and then looked up at Stephen. “That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it, sir?” The boy looked completely miserable.

“Of course it was.” Stephen put a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “You both did exactly as you should have. George, it was valiant of you to want to keep after the coach, but you would have lost it in any event. A carriage moves much faster than your legs can.”

George sighed and nodded, but brightened quickly. “We did see it turn right on Park Lane.”

“Splendid. I’ll—”

“What’s going on?” Nick burst into the room. “The footman said something about Lady Anne being abducted.” He caught sight of Evie. “Zeus, Evie, don’t cry. We’ll find your sister.” He sat down next to her and likely would have snatched her out of Clorinda’s arms if he hadn’t had an audience.

“Brentwood has taken Anne, Nick. I want you to stay here and lend the ladies your support.” He knew better than to mention the twins, but they also needed a sensible fellow like Nick around.

Nick frowned. “Don’t you need help?”

“I believe I’ll do better on my own, but I’ll be sure to send word if I can use your assistance. I’ll tell MacInnes when he gets here to check all Brentwood’s holdings to see if he’s gone to ground at any of them. I somehow doubt it, but we need to be sure.”

Nick nodded. “MacInnes was right behind me. He should—”

Hobbes appeared at the door. “Your valet and horse are here, sir.”

“Splendid. Then I’m off to have a very thorough chat with Lady Noughton.”

“God-speed,” Clorinda said. “We’ll be waiting to hear you’ve found Anne safe and can bring her home.”

Stephen nodded and left, hoping he’d be able to do exactly that, but with the head start the miscreants had—

No, he would not entertain such thoughts. He
would
be successful—he had to be.

Anne’s heart raced. She tried to throw open the window and scream for help, but it was nailed shut. Damn. What could she—

The vehicle careened around a corner; she grabbed a hand strap to keep from being thrown from her seat. If she were lucky, they would crash and, if her neck wasn’t broken, she could escape.

“Ye may as well sit still; yer not goin’ anywheres.”

Her abductor glowered at her from the other side of the coach. He’d removed his muffler and hat; it was not an improvement. A scar ran through his right eyebrow, and his nose resembled a cauliflower. He must be a former pugilist.

He held up the hand she’d bitten. “Yer lucky ye didn’t draw blood, ye know.” He crossed his arms. “That and Brentwood said he wants ye in good order.”

She nodded—there really wasn’t anything to say to that—and stared at the window. She couldn’t actually see out it, since the curtains were nailed down, too, but it was better than staring at her captor. She busied herself praying for a broken axle or a herd of cows to block the road.

Unfortunately, nothing occurred to detain or delay them. The coachman appeared to be skilled with the ribbons. They avoided capsizing and had now settled into a fast, steady pace—too fast for her to try leaping from the carriage.

She tightened her grip on the hand strap. “Where are we going?”

“To Brentwood, o’ course.”

“To Lord Brentwood’s estate?” She relaxed slightly. Brentwood’s estate was not so far from Crane House. She could—

“No.”

Her heart sank. “Then where?”

“Ye’ll find out when ye get there.”

She forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply. She couldn’t panic—she had to come up with a plan.

Eww. The carriage smelled of old vomit, sweat, and dirt. The squabs were so flattened they might as well not have been there and the springs—they hit a bump, and she felt the jolt from her seat to her head.

It would be nice to know where she was going, but it wasn’t essential. “Away” was the only direction that mattered once she arrived at wherever Brentwood was. Surely she could find some soul to take pity on her and offer her sanctuary until Stephen could come fetch her. And he would come—his honor, if nothing else, would demand it.

She regarded her companion again. Could she convince him to assist her? “Neither my father nor my fiancé will be happy you’ve abducted me. If you take me back now, I promise no one will be the wiser.”

The man spat into a corner. “Brentwood will.”

She swallowed and tried not to show her revulsion. “My father will deal with him.”

“Yer father ain’t in England.”

Too true. “But my fiancé is.”

The villain finally looked uncomfortable. He shifted on his seat. “Brentwood said Parker-Roth would be happy to get his freedom back.” He looked her over. “Stands to reason. Why would the King of Hearts want to marry a scraggy female like ye?”

Why indeed? She pushed her own doubts aside. “Perhaps he wishes to marry an earl’s daughter.”

The man snorted. “Crazy Crane’s get? I don’t think so.”

“My father is very wealthy.”

“Parker-Roth is richer.”

The man was impossible. “Mr. Parker-Roth despises Lord Brentwood. He would not like it if the marquis stole an old boot from him, but to steal his betrothed . . .” She shook her head. “He’ll be furious.”

Did she see sweat on the villain’s brow? It was too dim in the carriage to be certain.

He fidgeted. “Brentwood says—”

“Lord Brentwood knows nothing. He is not in Mr. Parker-Roth’s confidence.” Was she swaying him? She would dangle money before him. That should work. “And I assure you, my fiancé will be most appreciative. He’ll pay you as much or more than Lord Brentwood has offered you if you return me now, unhurt.”

“Ye think so?” The man was definitely wavering.

“I am certain.” Surely, no matter what Stephen’s true feelings, he would help her in this?

“Well . . .” The man scratched his head. Anne bit her lip to keep from shouting at him. “I gotta ask Gus.”

Gus must be the coachman. “Pray do so at once.”

He reached to give the signal to stop, but the coach was already slowing. “Looks like we’re here.” The man shrugged. “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. His lordship will pay us now, and we’ll be done with this.”

“But you can’t give me to Lord Brentwood.” Anne grabbed the man’s arm. “My father or my betrothed will pay you double what he’s offering, I swear it.”

“And Brentwood will shoot us now if we don’t give ye to him.” He picked her hand off his arm and went to open the door, but it was already opening.

Anne clutched the carriage strap. It was a futile effort; her abductor easily pried her fingers loose and then shoved her out the door. She tripped and fell—straight into Brentwood’s arms.

“Ah, my dear Lady Anne, how lovely to see you again.”

“Her ladyship is not at home, Mr. Parker-Roth.” Maria’s butler looked slightly alarmed to see Stephen on the doorstep.

Stephen shoved past him into Maria’s entry hall. It was decorated in the Egyptian style; he hadn’t realized just how much he hated it. He grimaced at a chair that had two sphinxes supporting its arms. “Now Wentwood, we both know Maria never leaves her bed this early in the day.”

“But sir . . .” Wentwood wrung his hands, obviously recognizing Stephen would not be nay-said. “My lady is not at home to visitors.”

“I’m not precisely a visitor. I have urgent business with her; I cannot wait.” Stephen started up the stairs. “I expect I’ll find her still abed, won’t I?”

“Mr. Parker-Roth, sir, please . . .”

“Don’t worry, Wentwood. I can find my way.” He’d no time to argue with the butler; every second wasted increased Anne’s danger.

He pushed Maria’s bedroom door open without knocking. As he’d expected, she had a companion. The man—boy, really; one of Nick’s friends—saw him and dove under the covers.

“Why, Stephen.” Maria sat up, treating him to a view of her naked breasts. “Have you come to make this a threesome?”

“Not at all.” He addressed the lump under the covers. “Don’t worry, Puddington. I won’t tell your mother where I found you.”

“My thanks,” the lump replied in a wavery voice.

Maria cupped her breasts invitingly. “Since you’re here, the least you can do is join us.” She smiled in what she must imagine to be a sultry fashion. “You can give young Thomas a tutorial. I’m sure he’d like to observe the King of Hearts at work.” She patted the lump beside her. “Wouldn’t you, Thomas?”

The lump shook; poor Thomas was likely terrified by the notion. “No, thank you, madam.”

The “madam” obviously hit a nerve. Maria scowled and looked on the verge of kicking Tom out of bed.

“Maria.” Stephen had no time for this. The clock was ticking. “I am in a great hurry.”

“Then be about your business. I certainly did not invite you here.”

He couldn’t very well strangle her, though he was sorely tempted. “I will leave as soon as you answer a question or two. Thomas, you are not to repeat any of this.”

“I would never, sir.”

Maria scowled at the lump and then at Stephen. “Why should I help you?”

“Because I alerted you to the fact Brentwood hasn’t a feather to fly with. And because I know a variety of secrets you wouldn’t want society to learn.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“You can call it that if you wish, just know I’m not leaving until I get my answers.”

For a moment, Maria looked as if she was considering defying him, but then she shrugged. “Very well, ask your questions, but I don’t promise I’ll answer them.”

She would answer if he had to shake the answers out of her. “Did you have a little chat with Brentwood after I left you at the ball last night?”

“Of course I did.” She patted the lump. “I brought Thomas home to help me forget that unpleasant tête-à-tête.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, he is like most young men. Splendid to look at, all eagerness, but in and done far too quickly. Perhaps I should take him on as a pupil. Would you like that, Thomas?”

Thomas mumbled something. Stephen couldn’t distinguish the words, but the boy’s tone did not indicate enthusiasm. It would be damn amusing, if he wasn’t in such a hurry.

“Did you tell Brentwood I hold his vowels?”

Maria yawned. “I believe I may have.”

He hadn’t thought Mags had lied, but he’d had to confirm her story. He couldn’t afford to be wrong. At least now he was quite confident, especially given what the twins had overheard, that Brentwood was behind Anne’s disappearance.

“Where would Brentwood take someone he’d abducted from London?”

Maria smiled maliciously. “Oh, my, did evil Lord Brentwood steal your betrothed, Stephen? How sad.”

He reminded himself he did not strangle women. “Where did he take her, Maria?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.”

He did
not
strangle women, but perhaps just this once...

He forced his anger under control. “Don’t you want Brentwood to get his just deserts, Maria? I would think you’d be eager to see him taken to task after the way he deceived you.”

“True,” Maria said, “but I’d also like to see Lady Anne suffer for stealing you from me.”

What was this? “Maria, you and I parted company in February. Ours was a pleasant, but temporary affair.”

Maria shrugged and finally reached for something to cover her nakedness. “You may have thought it temporary; I did not.”

Was she serious? “Think about it, Maria. If we wed, I would want you to have children and to give up London most of the year to live with me in the country. You would not like that.”

“No, but I know I could persuade you to stay in Town.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“But—” Maria was staring at him as though he’d suddenly turned into an exotic beast.

“And I would expect fidelity, Maria.” He gestured to the lump. “You like variety. You’d be loathe to give that up.”

“Well . . .” She patted the lump again. Poor Puddington must be getting very warm under the blankets.

“Lady Anne has done you a favor.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Perhaps.”

“So will you tell me where Brentwood has taken her?”

She sighed, looking suddenly older. “I really don’t know.” She stroked the lump while she pondered the possibilities. “He wouldn’t take her to his town house, of course—Lady Brentwood is in residence. I suppose he could go to one of his estates, but I don’t think he would. Most are too far from London, and the servants would not approve of such behavior. From what I’ve gathered, they are still very loyal to Lady Brentwood and don’t much approve of her son.”

That made sense. “So where else might he have taken her?” He wanted to shout, but he restrained his impatience. At least Maria was seriously considering the question.

The lump mumbled something. Maria lifted a corner of the blanket. “What is it, Thomas?”

He mumbled something again.