Mistress by Marriage (19 page)
“We shall miss you, Lady Christie.” Mrs. Hazlett wiped a tear with the corner of her apron. Mr. Hazlett’s eyes were suspiciously damp as well.
“I hope you both enjoy your retirement. I’ll never forget how kind you were to me these last five years.”
Ben shuffled behind the little crowd and stepped forward. “I thank you fer invitin’ me, but Lunnon’s me home. I don’t hold with the country and cows.”
Caroline chuckled. “I haven’t any cows yet as far as I know, Ben, just my cat. But you behave for the Hazletts. They have need of a big, strong boy like you. And don’t neglect your studies.”
Ben rolled his eyes but said nothing else. Ben was perhaps not Caroline’s most successful project, but he was the Hazletts’ problem now.
Mrs. Hazlett handed her a hamper that had been at her feet. “Don’t forget to eat your lunch and drink every drop of wine I packed for you. I know you don’t hold much with spirits, but it will help to settle you bouncing around on the road. You don’t want to be stopping at dirty posting houses for bad food. There’s a flask of tea, too. Drink it all. It’s just the way you like it—plenty of sugar.”
It was the third or fourth time Caroline had been admonished to eat and drink the contents of the wicker basket. As she had no interest in sitting all by herself in some inferior inn, she had no objection. It was quite scandalous that she was traveling alone, but Edward’s plans for a chaperone for her had fallen apart at the last minute. The maid he had hired became ill and there wasn’t time to find anyone else. Caroline didn’t mind. She had done for herself for years as Caroline Parker and expected she could do so as Caroline Christie.
It would take several days to deliver her to her new home. Just as she had requested, a hired coach was parked at her steps. Caroline didn’t want to attract unwelcome attention with Edward’s handsome crested carriage. It was past time to leave.
After another round of hugs and a bold kiss on her lips from Ben, Hazlett handed her into the carriage where Harold yowled a welcome. “Remember this, my lady. We have your best interests at heart. May you find all the happiness you deserve.”
Touched, Caroline leaned down to give the old man a kiss on his cheek. She hoped the last two kisses of her life were not to be to a scruffy boy and an elderly butler. “Thank you, Hazlett. They don’t make butlers like you anymore.”
“I should say they don’t. Now, you be careful. And keep in mind not everything is as it seems.”
“Excellent advice. Good-bye! I’ll write as soon as I am settled.” She waved as gaily as she could manage, then settled back into the squabs of the coach.
“Hey there!”
Caroline looked out the window. All the current Janes, even the thieving Lucy Dellamar, had come out at the early hour, some wearing more clothes than others. They clustered around the sentry post at the iron Jane Street gate and tossed flower petals in her direction.
“Good luck! Be good, but not too good!” they cried in unison.
Caroline laughed. Then she cried a bit along with Harold as the carriage wound its way around the early morning traffic, missing her unlikely friends already. No doubt it was just nerves. She hadn’t slept well and spent much of the night staring up at the big mirror over her bed. Without most of the furniture, the bedroom had seemed a bit spooky, so she’d let a lamp burn. Silly of her.
But she was leaving the bed behind, with its wicked naked caryatids. Too much had transpired in that bed to bring her any luck. Edward had written the cottage was partly furnished. She hoped so. She wasn’t taking all that much with her.
Caroline loved to decorate. She was good at it. She’d transformed her family home on a shoestring once Nicky and Andrew had turned it into a hotel. But Edward hadn’t let her change a thing at Christie Park or his house in town, one of the things that had stymied her so much during the year of her marriage. She was looking forward to assessing her new abode and improving it. There was plenty of money now. Edward’s allowance was generous, and she still had her savings from the book sales.
Harold had stopped glaring at her and had curled up in a corner of his cage to sleep. Smart cat. But she wanted to keep her wits about her on the road. One never knew what might happen, although the coachman and postboy looked to be sturdy and dependable Yawning, she lifted the basket lid and took out the flask of tea. She unscrewed the top and drank directly from the container. With the rocking of the carriage, she didn’t dare try to pour the liquid in the pretty china cup Mrs. Hazlett had packed. She wouldn’t want to spill any on her new cherry-red travelling costume—which Edward would never see.
The tea tasted especially delicious, perhaps because she drank it straight from the flask. Caroline had always liked to break the rules. In fact, it was so good, she drank it all before they hit the London line.
Chapter 16
The fearsome footsteps came inexorably closer. Bound and blindfolded, Barbara knew her life was about to be altered forever.—The Return of the Rogue
W
ho could imagine he had that rogue Garrett Marburn to thank for this brilliant plan? Edward had been beyond irritated when Marburn had the gall to come to Christie House to complain that Caroline had quit writing forever and was retiring to the country all because of him. The man went on and on how he’d miss Caroline, that she was his most successful author and an invaluable friend. She’d even given expert romantic advice! If her maid Lizzie didn’t agree to marry Marburn soon, he was just to sweep her off her feet and drag her to Gretna like in some silly book she’d written. Caroline had assured Marburn all women liked the grand romantic gesture and a bit of mastery.
ho could imagine he had that rogue Garrett Marburn to thank for this brilliant plan? Edward had been beyond irritated when Marburn had the gall to come to Christie House to complain that Caroline had quit writing forever and was retiring to the country all because of him. The man went on and on how he’d miss Caroline, that she was his most successful author and an invaluable friend. She’d even given expert romantic advice! If her maid Lizzie didn’t agree to marry Marburn soon, he was just to sweep her off her feet and drag her to Gretna like in some silly book she’d written. Caroline had assured Marburn all women liked the grand romantic gesture and a bit of mastery.
Edward had no need to carry Caroline off to Scotland. They were already married. But it was the ideal opportunity to get her out of town, to begin their marriage anew, with a set of clearly-defined rules. Alone. There would be no children to interfere—the boys were finally at university, and Beth had promised to keep a steadying hand, or perhaps two, on Little Alice.
It had taken Edward a few weeks to set the grand romantic gesture in motion, but once he set his Christie precision to it, things fell into place. First, he’d begged a copy of
Lord Farringdon’s Fickle Fiancée
from his sister Beth. He locked himself in his study and read the thing straight through. Alternating between being appalled and fascinated, Edward took copious notes. Caroline was a much more worthy adversary than that nitwit Felicia, so he took it upon himself to alter the plot slightly.
Lord Farringdon’s Fickle Fiancée
from his sister Beth. He locked himself in his study and read the thing straight through. Alternating between being appalled and fascinated, Edward took copious notes. Caroline was a much more worthy adversary than that nitwit Felicia, so he took it upon himself to alter the plot slightly.
Edward had no intention of sending Caroline to Dorset. Dorset was too far away from London, and he might be called back for some damned parliamentary emergency or other. No, Caroline was going to a perfectly charming borrowed manor house in Kent, not all that far from Christie Park in case the emergency was in the other direction. One never knew with Little Alice. He’d spent the last few weeks bribing, berating, and bullying the necessary people and was satisfied he’d be successful. Caroline had no idea what she was in for.
He smiled down at her on the seat cushion. His wife was blindfolded and gagged, curled up on her side. Her arms were tied up from wrist to elbow in front of her. And the best part? She didn’t even know it. The empty flask of tea rolled on the carriage floor.
True, his approach was rather risky. But if he’d simply accosted Caroline on the road like some dashing masked highwayman as Farringdon did to Felicia, she would have recognized him immediately and talked his ear off once again on their unsuitability for each other. She would have been
reasonable
, when everyone knew it was up to a Christie to be the reasonable one.
reasonable
, when everyone knew it was up to a Christie to be the reasonable one.
She must have acquired a touch of reason by marriage. If he had to sit through one more lecture like the one that last night in her Jane Street garden, he’d commit himself to Bedlam. This time, she would listen to
him
. He had a whole week to convince her.
him
. He had a whole week to convince her.
So here she was, quiet as a mouse. If she awoke, he’d give her the wine and that would keep her quiet until they got to his friend’s property outside Ashford. The house sat on over one hundred walled acres. Caroline had appreciated the extensive gardens, Dutch arches, and Jacobean architecture on their previous visit. The Hazletts and Ben were already on their way to prepare her welcome. He would serve as lady’s maid himself, and was relishing the task ahead.
But first they had to get there. If it had been up to the blasted cat Harold, he’d be streaked with blood and half dead. When Edward stepped into the carriage at the arranged spot, the cat had made an unruly commotion throwing himself against the bars of the cage, hissing and yowling, guarding his mistress with alarming fervor. Edward worried Caroline would wake up, but she was still his Sleeping Beauty. He had taken meticulous care in the arrangements, but he hadn’t counted on the cat.
At least cats couldn’t talk. It was imperative he not reveal that
he
was her kidnapper until he got her safely to Bradlaw House. He was wearing itchy new second-rate clothes from the skin out and had splashed a great deal of bay cologne all over his person to disguise the feel and scent of him. He’d practiced his villain voice for a week in case it was needed. He couldn’t make himself shorter or less handsome, but as long as she didn’t see him, she’d never know he had lost his mind and snatched his own wife. Once he installed her in their bedchamber, reasoned with her and then freed her, all would be well.
he
was her kidnapper until he got her safely to Bradlaw House. He was wearing itchy new second-rate clothes from the skin out and had splashed a great deal of bay cologne all over his person to disguise the feel and scent of him. He’d practiced his villain voice for a week in case it was needed. He couldn’t make himself shorter or less handsome, but as long as she didn’t see him, she’d never know he had lost his mind and snatched his own wife. Once he installed her in their bedchamber, reasoned with her and then freed her, all would be well.
The thought of keeping her tied up was very appealing. He pictured Caroline spread open for him, her plump white limbs tied to the bedposts. If he were smart, he’d leave her gagged, for she was apt to make a fuss—
As she was beginning to do right this minute. He’d consulted his physician in a rather veiled interview to determine just how much of the drug should be added to the tea. Mrs. Hazlett had apparently erred on the side of caution.
Caroline gave a violent twitch and gurgled.
He swatted her backside. “Oy. See yer wakin’ up. Do what yer told and no harm will come to ye.” Edward thought he sounded quite ferocious. He hoped Caroline would, too.
Her scream was muted, but ear-splitting nonetheless. Harold joined right in.
“ ’Ere now. Ye ain’t got no cause for fussin’
yet
. You must be thirsty. Lie still and I’ll get ye somethin’ to drink.”
yet
. You must be thirsty. Lie still and I’ll get ye somethin’ to drink.”
Caroline’s response was to flip on her back and kick him in the balls. How on earth did she know where to aim? Perhaps it was just luck. Not his. He bit his tongue and doubled over on the seat.
“Unh! Unh un uhn, oo unh!”
Her feet were flying at him. Clearly he should have tied them as well. It was not too late. Fighting nausea, he fought off her feet, too. When he had recovered sufficiently, he pulled a length of rope from the pocket of his coat, grabbed her ankles and wound them up tight.
“Unh! Unh unh unh unh!” She continued to tumble about like a furious red caterpillar.
“Shut up, ye little b-witch.” It was imperative he get the wine into her as soon as possible. He felt as if he was wrestling with a bag of cats led by the redoubtable Harold. “I’ll just take yer gag off, ye hear? If ye say one damned word, I’ll slap it back on. Slap yer pretty arse too, see if I don’t.”
“Unh oo.”
Edward was pretty sure she’d just asked him to do an anatomically impossible thing. Mindful of his fingers, he untied the fabric around her mouth. It was new, silk and clean, save for the drool.
“What is the meaning of this?” she asked, her voice unnaturally calm.
“Ain’t got no meanin’, missus. I got my orders. Now be a good girl and drink yer wine.” He took the bottle and a glass out of the basket. If it weren’t drugged, he’d be tempted to have some himself to kill the pain.
“I don’t want any.”
“Aye, ye do.” He poured some into the tumbler and held it to Caroline’s lips.
“It’s poisoned, isn’t it? Like the tea.”
“Poisoned!” Edward scoffed. “If it was poisoned, ye’d not be talkin’ now, would ye? Ye’d be buried in a deep ditch I dug. Wormfood. C’mon, drink up.”
Caroline took a sip, then spit it in his general direction. His reflexes were better this time around.
“Missed me, missus. Have it yer way.” He fastened the silk back over her mouth in a trice.
“Unh unh unh, uh unh unh unh uh uh.”
“Sorry. Can’t unnerstand a bloody word.” He picked up a sandwich and unwrapped it. “Umm-umm. This here’s a good lunch. Don’t suppose yer hungry either.”
Caroline said nothing, her body deceptively still.
“Don’t know where the next meal will come from, or when.” He wasn’t really hungry, but it was the only way he could think to pay her back for the vicious kick. He chewed loudly, smacking his lips, as he imagined one of the lower classes might do. Edward could only manage three bites before he quietly shoved the sandwich back in the picnic hamper, but not before risking his fingers to toss a slice of ham to Harold to shut him up.
“If I was in yer fix, I’d lie back. Have meself a nap.”
Silence. Excellent. Perhaps she’d recognized the futility of trying to do him further harm. It was all for her own good. Once he’d convinced her to give their marriage another go, she’d thank him.
They’d been on the road all morning. Edward knew it was not much farther. He had hoped to carry a comatose Caroline into the house, but even if she was protesting in some form, no notice would be taken. The hired driver and his postboy had been paid well to turn a blind eye to any irregularities—a woman trussed up like a Christmas goose, for example. Edward had given a false name at the outset and they were to be left at a coaching inn in Ashford. His own coach had gathered up the Hazletts and Ben immediately after Caroline left Jane Street. They’d passed him a while back, where he transferred Caroline’s small valise to them. There would be time to get the servants in place and for his coachman Munson to collect them.
He’d thought of everything except for the damned cat, who still glared at him malevolently despite the ham. Perhaps the creature would get lost in Bradlaw’s deer park. Be gored by a wild boar. Carried off by an eagle.
Hm. There was something to be said for violent fantasies. No wonder Caroline had enjoyed her writing so. It must be powerful to make people behave in just the manner you wished. Lord knows, despite Edward’s every effort, he’d not been entirely successful with his own family, and certainly not with Caroline. Well, that was about to change.
It was time to dress Caroline in the heavy black cloak. She was as unyielding as a block of wood, but he eventually covered her and pulled the hood down over her face. When the coach clattered into the yard, Edward climbed out, dragged her over the seat and threw her over his shoulder as though she were drunk. The innyard was empty save for Munson, who had scared off all comers and was idling in wait for him.
Edward dumped Caroline onto the leather seats, making sure her pert nose poked out between the blindfold and the gag. Deciding it would be safer to ride up top with his coachman, he left his wife and her cat and their seething fury securely locked below.
Pope and Douglass
. Either one, the other, or both. They weren’t foolish enough to accomplish the deed themselves—oh, no—they had hired the basest villain who stunk like a
Pimenta racemosa
tree to drug and kidnap her. The criminal smelled just like one of her brother’s house party guests, a planter from the Caribbean islands. Caroline had never seen him, but his scent had lingered everywhere. It had taken a full three weeks to air out the room he stayed in.
. Either one, the other, or both. They weren’t foolish enough to accomplish the deed themselves—oh, no—they had hired the basest villain who stunk like a
Pimenta racemosa
tree to drug and kidnap her. The criminal smelled just like one of her brother’s house party guests, a planter from the Caribbean islands. Caroline had never seen him, but his scent had lingered everywhere. It had taken a full three weeks to air out the room he stayed in.
Caroline lay flat on her back thinking, perspiring from the heavy cloak that had been bundled over her. Good-quality wool if she hadn’t lost all sensation. The new vehicle was considerably better sprung than the first, not that it made any difference to her. Her kidnappers might be rich, but no matter how much money they had, they would be sorry.
The knots were fiendishly well tied. She hadn’t a hope of escaping. She couldn’t see or move or scream, but she could still hear. She’d concentrated on every word the bastard had said to her. She wasn’t to be harmed if she behaved.
Hah
. That’s what all her villains said, and they never meant it.
Hah
. That’s what all her villains said, and they never meant it.
If she was being held for ransom, they’d contact Edward. If they simply wanted to torture her—or anything else, like kill her—she’d better start saying her prayers. There was a great dark spot upon her soul.
Edward would surely pay. He’d gone to a considerable amount of discomfort when he moved into her house after the first threat. Throwing money at a problem was much simpler than sleeping on the floor like some shaggy watchdog.
Edward.
She might never see him again. Not that she’d planned to. Their break was absolute. She’d made that perfectly clear in her garden weeks ago.
She might never see him again. Not that she’d planned to. Their break was absolute. She’d made that perfectly clear in her garden weeks ago.
Once she was taken to her destination, she would explain to Pope and/or Douglass that she’d already given up her writing, that she’d never harm a gentleman’s reputation again by revealing any embarrassing or egregious truths. She was going to become a recluse in the country with her cat. Harold purred in solidarity across the way. At least her abductor had not left the cat behind. Thoughtful of him really. Harold had done nothing but growl and spit at her abductor, bless his brave little heart.
Caroline hoped her accommodations would not be too Spartan or spooky. One of her heroines had endured bats in a cave (
The Midnight Marchioness
), another, giant spiders in a dungeon (
The Baron’s Bride
). She had nothing against bats or spiders, but didn’t care to share her nights with them. She’d never get a wink of sleep, and she was so very tired. The drugged tea had yet to lose its power over her.
The Midnight Marchioness
), another, giant spiders in a dungeon (
The Baron’s Bride
). She had nothing against bats or spiders, but didn’t care to share her nights with them. She’d never get a wink of sleep, and she was so very tired. The drugged tea had yet to lose its power over her.
Other books
Death of an Aegean Queen by Hudgins, Maria
The Longing by Beverly Lewis
HUGE X3: A MFMM Menage Stepbrother Romance by Stephanie Brother
Sky Strike by James Rouch
Many Lives by Stephanie Beacham
Dream Girl by Kelly Jamieson
The Body in the Bonfire by Katherine Hall Page
Handel by Jonathan Keates
Katherine O’Neal by Princess of Thieves