Blackthorne's Bride (32 page)

Alarmed, Maddie rushed inside. Timms was leaning against the bookshelf to the left of the door, and she went to him immediately. "Sir, what is the matter?"

He looked up at her, his blue eyes filled with sadness. "I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't want to, but—"

"Oh, shut up already," barked a high-pitched voice.

Maddie turned toward the door, but it slammed shut, revealing the Duke of Bleven and two of his men.

Her heart lurched into her throat and she backed away from the Black Duke. She wondered briefly if anyone would hear her scream.

"Your Grace." She tried to keep her voice from wavering, while her mind raced for an escape plan. The inside door, leading to the dining room, was locked, and she didn't have the keys with her. The window to the garden? "How kind of you to attend my fund-raiser," she continued in a light voice. "The auction is in the ballroom." She bumped into Jack's desk and reached a hand back to steady herself.

Bleven sneered at her. "I didn't come for the auction, Lady Blackthorne."

Maddie swallowed. Her hand closed on something cold and metallic—Jack's letter opener— and she palmed it, hiding it in her skirts.

"What did you come for?"

"You."

He signaled his two men, and the thugs advanced on her. One carried a large sack and the other a gag and rope.

Maddie slipped the letter opener into the inside pocket of her dress just before the men grabbed her.

"One hundred pounds! Going, going ... sold to the Marquess of Blackthorne."

The room erupted in applause, and Jack, smiling, bowed. Lady Wiggleswade glowered at him.

Old bat.
As though he wanted to wager a hundred pounds for an afternoon with his own bear. He should have let her win. She probably would have fainted at the first sight of Blackjack.

Lord Addison approached, holding out a hand in congratulations. The baron was saying something about making other arrangements for his young son to meet the bear, but though Jack accepted the man's hand, he barely heard Lord Addison. He glanced around for Maddie, wanting to see her sweet smile, her approving gaze.

He saw her cousins, but the spot Maddie had occupied earlier beside Lady Valentine was still empty.

Jack scowled.

"Excuse me, my lord." Knowing he was being rude to Lord Addison, and not caring, he turned his back on the baron and stalked toward Maddie's cousins.

"Congratulations," Lady Westman said when he neared. "Maddie will be pleased her item raised so much."

"Where is she?"

Lady Westman's brow furrowed. "She said she was going to the kitchen to request more tea cakes. I'm sure she'll return in a moment."

"I'll go check on her."

But Maddie wasn't in the kitchens. And his cook hadn't seen her. Jack climbed the stairs and strode quickly back to the ballroom, scanning the room for Maddie. The auction was over now, and the guests were standing about, making it difficult for him to find his petite wife.

He saw Lady Valentine, looking equally anxious. As soon as she spotted him, she rushed over. "My lord, did you find her?"

"No. She hasn't returned?"

"No."

"Fire!" a shrill voice carried over the din of voices.

"What the devil?" He'd just been in the kitchens. There was no fire. But panic had overtaken the guests and it was too late to soothe them.

"Fire! Run!"

There was a screech and then a momentous clatter as the hundred or so guests stumbled over one another to reach the exit doors.

"Devil take it!" Jack grabbed Lady Valentine's hand and yanked her to his side. He bent to help an elderly lady, who'd been knocked to the floor, back to her feet and handed the woman to Lady Valentine. "This way."

Pulling Lady Valentine behind him, Jack carved a path to the doors, slamming them open and pushing Lady Valentine through. There were only two sets of double doors, the doors to the dining room having been locked, so he ran to the sash windows that overlooked the side garden. One by one he threw them up, opening the house. One set of windows was stuck, and he kicked the glass, breaking it in an effort to provide more escape routes.

"Slow down!" Jack ordered, grabbing a man elbowing his way through. "Go slowly."

Next he headed back toward the inside doors. As he moved, he scanned the crowd for Maddie, stopping several women with hair the color of hers to peer at their faces as they rushed by. Where the hell was she?

And that's when he smelled the smoke. Dear God, there really was a fire. The crowd seemed to realize it as well, and their pushing and shoving became more frenzied and vicious. Torn between keeping order and finding the source of the fire, he chose the latter, ducking out of the ballroom and into the crowded passageway.

Smoke burned his eyes and nose. Disregarding instinct, he turned toward the source of it. The smoke billowed from the back of the house, from his library.

"Maddie!" he yelled. "Maddie!"

Past the ballroom there was no crowd, and he only had to fight the smoke to find his library. But the damn door was closed and locked, and he had to jam his shoulder into it. "Maddie!"

The door was warm. He felt its heat even through the thick material of his tailcoat.

Please God, don't let her be inside. Please don't let me be too late.

Jack moved back and ran at the door, ram-ming his shoulder into it. The door shuddered but the thick wood held. Swearing, he rammed it again. This time he heard a crunch and the door gave way. Flames, bursts of searing red and orange, licked at him. Coughing, he stumbled forward.

"Maddie?"

No answer. He bent low, groping blindly along the floor. His hands grazed the edge of his bookshelf and then something else.

A foot?

"Maddie?"

He fell to his knees, forcing his eyes to open in the smoke, to peer more closely.

"Oh, God."

* * * * *

Maddie had given up fighting.

In the library, Bleven's lackeys had bound her hands, gagged her, and thrown her in the canvas sack. Then they'd opened the library window and handed her out of the house.

At least she thought that was what they'd done. She couldn't see anything through the thick canvas, and the heat inside was stifling. Better to remain still, she thought. Fighting made it hard to breathe.

Now she was inside a carriage, tossed on one of the seats as the conveyance wound its way leisurely through London's streets. Someone was across from her—Bleven, she supposed—and he didn't appear to be in a hurry or even to be worried that his treachery would be discovered.

Jack would come after him. Of that, Maddie had no doubt. She only hoped it wouldn't be too late.

Jiminy! What was wrong with her? If ever there was a time to think positively, now was it.

Concentrating hard, she felt the edge of the letter opener prick her thigh. All she had to do was convince Bleven to untie her and then get close enough. She knew the letter opener would slide cleanly into Bleven's pale skin.

She only needed the opportunity. And the courage.

"You're awfully quiet over there, Lady Blackthorne." Bleven's high-pitched voice floated across the carriage. "I hope you haven't tired yourself out. I have big plans for you, and I shall find my games so much more enjoyable if you have a bit of spirit left."

If she hadn't been gagged, she would have cursed him.

And then, as though he had read her mind and was granting her wish, the bottom of the sack was loosened and removed. As it whooshed over her head, cool air rushed over her. Maddie took deep breaths.

When she'd had her fill, her gaze found Bleven. He was seated across from her, and even in the dimness of the carriage she could see he was smiling. But she took solace in the knowledge that he'd taken the precaution of closing the coach's drapes. He wasn't as confident as he appeared if he showed some measure of concern at being caught.

"Oh, I'm not going to be caught," Bleven said.

Maddie could only blink at him. Did the man read minds, too?

"I don't imagine you're much of a card player, are you, Lady Blackthorne? Your face gives all away."

Maddie glared at him, hoping he could read exactly what she was thinking at that moment. Bleven chuckled.

"There's the spirit I was hoping for."

And that was as much as he was going to see of it. Jack would find them any moment, and then Bleven was going to be very, very sorry.

"Your husband won't be coming after us," Bleven told her, his tone blase. "Not right away, at any rate. By the time he realizes you're gone, it will be too late. He'll never find where I've taken you."

Maddie shook her head. Let Bleven believe what he would. She knew Jack would come for her.

"Oh, you think so, do you? Do you not agree that a fire can be a powerful distraction? Surely, your husband will have to deal with that small inconvenience before coming after you. If he's even realized you're gone."

Maddie stared hard at Bleven. Hating him, yet needing the drips of information he gave.

Fire? What on earth was he talking about?

Bleven grinned. His teeth were small and even. He reminded her of a small spaniel that growled and barked to make a show but ran away at the first sign of danger.

"Oh, that's right," Bleven said, baring his puppy teeth. "You didn't see us start the fire in the library, did you?" His face was overcome with mock sadness. "I do hope none of your guests was injured in the blaze."

Maddie didn't want to believe what she was hearing, but looking at the duke's face, she knew it was true. How dare he? How dare he come into her home and—

With a scream of anger, she launched herself at Bleven. Her hands were bound, but her feet were free, and she kicked at him. One foot landed in his soft belly before he wrestled her to the floor, pinning her legs.

With the duke's considerable weight on her, Maddie struggled to breathe, and her own gasps and the noise from the carriage wheels just below her were so loud at first that she couldn't hear the duke.

He was laughing.

* * * * *

Jack pulled Sergeant Timms out of the library and dropped him on the back steps. Lord Valentine was standing nearby with his wife.

"Don't let him move," Jack demanded. "Hold him. I'll be back for the bastard."

Without waiting for a response, Jack turned away and gathered his servants. "Grab every pail and container you can find," he ordered. "Dip them in water from the water butt and make a chain to extinguish the fire."

When the men and women rushed to do his bidding, he sent other servants to the nearby houses to warn his neighbors of the fire danger and to solicit more aid.

And then he went back inside. The library was now engulfed in flames, and he forced himself to rush by it. Instead he searched the ballroom, the dining room, and the upper floors. He heard Blackjack bellowing behind Maddie's bedroom door, and he flung the door open, hoping that Maddie was with her bear.

But the beast was alone, panicked by the fire. Jack threw a blanket over the animal's head and led it downstairs and out the front.

He handed the animal over to a wary Ridgeley and scanned the milling crowd for Maddie again.

She wasn't there. Damn it.

Rushing to the back of the house again, he saw that the fire in the library was receding, falling victim to the chain of servants and their full water buckets.

Valentine raised a hand and motioned him over. "Did you find Maddie?"

Jack shook his head. "She's not inside."

"You'd better talk to him." Valentine gestured to Sergeant Timms. The man's face was blackened with soot, making his blue eyes appear brighter. Jack was reminded of another pair of blue eyes, and his anger surged.

He grabbed the sergeant by his collar and hauled him up. The man weighed practically nothing, and Jack easily dragged him over to one of the outer walls. "Where the hell is my wife? If you know anything, speak now, or I swear on all that's holy that I'll kill you where you stand."

"I didn't want to do it," the man blubbered, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Didn't want to do what?"

"Forgive. Forgive. Forgive."

"He's been saying that for the past ten minutes," Valentine said from behind Jack.

"What did you do?" Jack tightened his grip. "Where is Lady Blackthorne?"

The sergeant shook his head. "The Black Duke has her now."

Jack's heart stopped and everything around him seemed to lose color and sound. He swayed on his feet for a moment, then let out a howl, slamming the sergeant hard against the brick. Once. Twice.

Valentine grabbed Jack's shoulder and jerked him back. Jack's grip on the sergeant's neck loosened, but he turned on Valentine, rage roiling through him.

But Valentine held his gaze steady. "Kill him now and we'll never get any more information."

Jack was breathing hard and murder pulsed in his blood. But he knew Valentine was right. He turned back to the sergeant, now slumped against the wall. "If you want to save yourself, speak now. Where is my wife?"