Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval (5 page)

BOOK: Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval
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“Of course. I am residing here with the duchess. Would you like me to have a quiet word with her also? She can set her servants to search.”

“Yes, please do that. Nate, find our mother. See if she has seen Anna. Try not to alarm her. We don’t want Anna’s temporary disappearance to become public knowledge.”

Clarence nodded his approval, aware Winchester was thinking of his sister’s reputation. He was responsible for this farrago, damn it! Lady Annalise had been in his care, but once again duty had interfered with a rare attempt to enjoy himself. He deserved the murderous looks being sent his way by all three Sheridans and accepted them as his due. They could not possibly make him feel any worse than he already did.

“Vince, take the supper rooms. Romsey, the card rooms, although I can’t imagine why she would have ventured in there. I shall scour the ballroom. Meet back in this position everyone when you have completed your searches.”

The gathering dispersed, reassembling less than half an hour later with the disquieting confirmation that Lady Annalise was nowhere to be found. Clarence wanted to express his regrets, but knew better than to try. Now wasn’t the time.

“Nate,” Winchester said. “Take our mother and Portia home and stay there with them. If Annalise should happen to appear at Sheridan House, send word at once. The rest of us will remain here and continue the search.”

“Search where?” Clarence asked. “There is nowhere left to look.”

“There must be,” Winchester replied. “Anna is somewhere. We just haven’t found her yet. Could she have fallen over the balustrade into the gardens below?”

“Unlikely, but we have explored all the most likely possibilities.”

“Come along. No, not you, Lady St. John. Remain here. We shall return directly.”

Winchester took the lead as he, Vince, and Clarence headed for the terrace.

“She’ll freeze to death if we don’t find her soon,” Vince said, an urgent edge to his voice.

“She was wearing a thick shawl,” Clarence replied as the three men found the door to the grounds hidden at the end of a corridor behind the ballroom. “It belonged to Frankie.”

“Well, that’s something I suppose,” Winchester replied tersely.

Winchester grabbed a lantern from a table beside the door and held it aloft as they searched the ground beneath the terrace. Snow was falling, dusting the ground like sugar. Clarence didn’t imagine Lady Annalise, wherever she happened to be at that moment, would be enjoying the sight quite as much as usual. This was all his fault. One of his many enemies had seen them dancing together, then strolling on the terrace. One of his reasons for not showing too much interest in any particular lady was for fear of what had just happened. Lady Annalise had been taken by an opportunist to get back at him. He just knew it. In these uncertain times, he had as many enemies amongst the upper classes as he did elsewhere. A lot of them were present tonight. Count von Hessel sprang to mind. He recalled now how he had looked so closely at Lady Annalise when they passed one another on the dance floor. Clarence hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Any man with eyes in his head couldn’t fail to admire what he saw. She was more than worth looking at. Damnation, he had let his guard down, and Lady Annalise was paying a heavy price for his momentary lapse. It made his blood run cold to think of the indignities she could be suffering at that very moment.

“Here!”

Vince’s voice drew the three men’s attention to a patch of ground where footprints indented the snow. Immediately beyond them, caught on the spikes of a bush, was a torn piece of brightly coloured shawl.

“Someone has taken her,” Winchester said, turning to hold Clarence in a glare frostier than the conditions.

Chapter Four

Annalise was thrown into a carriage, still with the vile-smelling sack over her head. Someone bound her hands and feet so tightly she thought it might cut off her blood supply. She felt lightheaded, frightened, and angry at the same time, as well as completely helpless. She was given a push and fell full-length onto a tatty seat.

“Stay down and don’t move,” a gruff voice commanded.

Then the door slammed, and the carriage moved off. At first Annalise remained where she was, waiting for her head to stop spinning and her heart to cease pounding so violently. Then she realised what she had been told to do—or rather, not to do. Don’t move, indeed! She had never been good at taking orders, and had no intention of starting now.

Annalise eased her aching body into a sitting position, unable to dislodge the sack since her hands were bound behind her. Even so, sitting up, that small act of defiance, gave her some satisfaction and helped overcome her terror. She had never admitted it to anyone, but she was afraid of the dark. Not being able to see, as well as not knowing where she was going and what fate awaited her, caused that fear to intensify.

Breathing deeply, even though that action brought the vile sacking closer to her mouth and forced her to suck its fumes into her lungs, she endeavoured to calm down and reason the matter through. She was still alive, and presumably that situation would endure, otherwise why the carriage and the sack to prevent her seeing her captors and where they were taking her?

She thought back to the terrace, and Lord Romsey. Was that only a few minutes ago? It seemed like another age. She had been momentarily too shocked to react when she felt herself falling, but it quickly became apparent her unfortunate
accident
was actually a carefully contrived kidnap. Had she been specifically chosen or did these ne’er-do-wells simply assume any young lady in attendance at such an auspicious ball would have a well-placed family prepared to pay handsomely for her safe release? If that was the case, they were sadly misinformed about the pecuniary situation of many of the country’s leading families. It occurred to her that Lord Romsey and Zach were right to be concerned about the state of law and order in England if rogue gangs had become desperate enough to infiltrate a major society occasion.

All of those thoughts had spun through her head, while she herself tumbled through the air in an ungainly ten-foot fall. Never one to embrace passivity, she fought like the devil against the rogue who caught her. Her actions appeared to take him by surprise. He had probably expected her to swoon, not fight like a tigress. But Portia wasn’t the only female member of her family not given to swooning. Ann struggled so violently she almost managed to scramble out of the man’s abhorrent grasp, but he recovered quickly and easily subdued her.

“Unhand me, you oaf!”

“Shut up and keep still, or it’ll be the worse for you,” a rough voice replied.

Nothing could be worse than this. If this…this reprobate thought she would calmly permit him to abduct her, he clearly didn’t know she had grown up with four brothers who permitted her to join in their rough and tumbles without making any allowance for her supposedly weaker state. But it had been some years since she had behaved thus, and she was clearly out of practise. The man became tired of her trying to gouge his eyes and restricted her hands by pressing one against his horrible body, and painfully grasping her other wrist.

Fine, but her feet were still free. Annalise was petrified, but fear and anger lent her superhuman strength. She aimed her heel in the area of the man’s groin, pleased when she heard him emit a low hiss of pain. Unfortunately, her blow wasn’t debilitating since she was wearing flimsy satin slippers. Oh, what she would have given to have her sturdy half-boots on her feet at that moment! The man slapped her face so hard that her neck snapped painfully backwards. She cried out, feeling her lip split and the tangy taste of blood fill her mouth.

“She’s a live one,” said another voice, chuckling. “Reckon you won’t be much use to Meg for a few nights now.”

“Shut up, you fool! No names.”

Yea gods, there were at least two of them! Annalise went limp in the man’s arms, aware she wouldn’t be able to get away from them both. Better to let them take her wherever they planned to, wait for them to let their guard down, and then assess her situation. It did not sit well with her to be so passive, but what other choice did she have?

She felt herself being lifted up into the arms of another man. They must be taking her over the garden wall. Of course. That would be how they had got in. They could have simply headed for the mews at the back of the mansion, but carriages belonging to guests would be clustered there, along with their drivers. They would be bound to notice a woman with a sack over her head being carried out. But how the devil did they intend to get her over the wall and down the other side? She had no intention of co-operating.

No co-operation was needed, damn it. They had thought this out well. Kidnappers with brains. Just her luck. The original man pulled himself over the eight-foot wall, stood on something they had obviously left on the other side and his partner-in-crime handed Anna down to him.

“Let him take you and don’t make a fuss,” the man passing her down said. “Make a noise and it’ll be all over for you.”

Anna believed him and abandoned all thoughts of struggling. If she fell with her head still covered, she could do untold damage to herself. If her abductors didn’t kill her first, that is. Besides, her head was still ringing from the heavy blow the first man had delivered to her face, and she was in no fit state to run for her life.

She heard her captors grunt with satisfaction when they negotiated her over the wall. And now, here she was, trussed up like a chicken in a carriage that was being driven slowly through the falling snow. Anna thought of Lord Romsey’s warning about the dangers to vehicles in snowy conditions and half wished this one was being driven a little faster. If they had an accident, then surely she would be rescued? Except, if they were taking her to a poor part of town, her situation might actually go from bad to worse. Not that she could imagine anything worse than this, but still…

Anna tried to pay attention to the sounds and smells along the route they took, as well as the direction they headed, but there were so many twists and turns she became hopelessly muddled. She was fairly sure they had left the better part of town, but that didn’t help her much. Any noise from other vehicles was drowned out by the snow. Because she couldn’t see, and because she was so uncomfortable with her hand and feet bound so tightly, she found it hard to focus on their route. She was near freezing to death in her flimsy ball gown and had lost Frankie’s lovely shawl. She would have to apologise for that, she thought inconsequently.

Anna counted down the seconds inside her head, by that means, trying to work out how far they travelled. The horse was moving at walking pace and, by her calculation, they had been on the road for about thirty minutes when the carriage finally came to a halt. As soon as the door was thrown open, she smelt dank river air, which was definitely not good. They could hide her in the docks for months with its labyrinth of warehouses, alleyways, and slums, and no one would discover her whereabouts.

A blanket was thrown over her body. She was lifted by the same vile-smelling man, and someone else wrapped the blanket around her, trussing her up like a mummy. Presumably, they didn’t want a lady in a silk ball gown to be seen in the district. Not that anyone would be about at this hour, but she had already decided these rogues were a cut above the average criminal, and they were taking no chances.

She heard a door being dragged open. It sounded heavy, and the man grunted with the effort it took him. The second man carried her inside a building and up some stairs. He too complained since the stairs were clearly steep. With great good fortune, he might put his back out. Unfortunately, he did not, and they reached the top of the wooden stairs without mishap. Anna heard a key turn in a lock, and she was carried into a room.

“There’s a chair behind you,” the man said. “Sit.”

Anna wanted to tell him she was not a dog. Instead, she sat, but only because her legs were too weak and too tightly bound for her to be able to stand. She wanted to tell the man that, but decided to save her breath. In fact, she decided not to speak to them at all. A dignified silence might well be the best course of action.

“Now, I’m going to remove the bindings on your hands and wrists. When you hear the door lock behind me, you can remove the sack. If you do so before I leave, and get a look at me, it’s the last thing you’ll ever see, m’lady. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Anna saw no point in arguing. She could tell from his steely tone he meant what he said. Besides, she wanted the use of her hands and feet to be restored to her.

“You can’t escape from here, so just be a good girl and make yourself comfortable. Someone will be along to speak to you later.”

Anna showed no reaction when the man knelt to cut the bindings on her ankles, audaciously running a hand up one calf as he did so.

“Very nice,” he muttered. “Such a shame we have orders not to touch you.”

Orders? Orders from whom?

Her hands sprang free when he cut the rope binding them. Anna circled her shoulders, tingles running down her arms as the blood flowed freely again and feeling came back to her limbs. Her wrists were sore, probably chafed, from where she had tried to free her hands. She could hear the man standing over her, breathing heavily, and she willed him to leave so she could remove the sack and assess her situation.

Eventually, she heard his footsteps, heavy on the boarded floor. The door opened then closed behind him, and a heavy key turned in the lock. Anna reached for the sack, pulled it from her head, and threw it aside. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to…to nothing. The room was in complete darkness. They hadn’t even left her a candle, and that was more frightening for Anna than her actual situation.

***

The duchess had already been told by Frankie what had happened. She was understandably distressed, but also wise to the need for discretion.

“This is most unfortunate,” she said. “I wish I knew what happened. How it happened, for that matter. I mean, how did people get into my grounds undetected and pluck a lady from the terrace?”

BOOK: Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval
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