Rebecca (41 page)

“He dares to use her to threaten me?” Rage etched his face.

She reached up and took his face in her hands. “Don't be foolish enough to chase after them when you are this upset. All you will do is force them to murder Rebecca. I don't think he wants to do that. He doesn't seem interested in killing her.”

He glanced involuntarily at the corpse on the top of the coach. “It seems they have some interest in murder. Why did they shoot Sims?”

“Rebecca tried to escape.” She shivered as the memories became reality again. Tears rolled down her cheeks faster as she looked at the murdered coachman, then away again. “He hit her, Nicholas. He hit her hard. You know how fond Sims is—was—of Rebecca. When he saw what the man did, Sims was going to shoot him. His comrades shot Sims first. It made the man really angry. I don't think he wanted them to kill anyone.”

Nicholas controlled his wrath. It was the time for clearheaded thought, not taking off in a worthless search that might endanger Rebecca more. Her abductor obviously had plotted this out well and had waited his chance when Rebecca was traveling the lonely country roads with no protection other than her young sister-in-law and a middle-aged coachman. Her abduction had not been by a highwayman who had stopped the carriage for jewels and money but had discovered someone far more valuable. If that had been the case, there would have been a demand for ransom. This kidnapper did not want wealth. He wanted something else, and Nicholas was sure his life would be the price of Rebecca's deliverance. If that was what was demanded, he would be sure his wife was guaranteed safety before he died.

“Which way did they go?” he asked in soft resignation.

“Toward Foxbridge Cloister.”

On the trip out, he had seen no signs of the road being traveled by a troop of men. It was too dark to do any tracking. The first thing in the morning, he would do a little discreet checking. He did not want to endanger Rebecca, but he did not intend to sit idly for two days and let those men do as they wished with her. His face paled under his permanent tan. It did not take much imagination to know the violence she might face while in the far-from-tender care of her jailers. How pretty Rebecca had looked when she had left with Eliza! How enticing she would appear to any man! A man who abducted a woman and shot a man would not have any remorse about a form of abuse as relatively minor as rape.

“Come on, Eliza. I'll take you home on Donar. I'll send someone back for the coach.” He took her hand and lifted her onto his horse. “There's nothing to be gained from standing here in the twilight. You should go to bed. Curtis is due back this evening from his business in London.” He smiled darkly. “I'm glad he will be here to watch over you and Mother, because I won't have time to do that.”

“What are you going to do, Nicholas?”

He mounted and turned the horse toward Foxbridge Cloister. “I'm going to find her. If I haven't before Saturday night, I will do anything they want to get her back. It doesn't matter what it costs. All I want is Rebecca returned unharmed.”

As she heard the grimness in his voice, Eliza knew her brother meant exactly what he vowed. He would trade anything, including his own life, in exchange for his wife's release. She wondered if Curtis would do the same for her. She hoped she would never have to find that out.

When they arrived home, he left her sitting on the horse while he spoke quietly to the stablehands. Glum expressions were on their faces as Lord Foxbridge told of Sims's murder. Only when he mentioned that Lady Foxbridge had been kidnapped did the rigid visages turn to fury. Nearly as much as their lord they were outraged at the audacious behavior of the unidentified man and his gang. Two went running to bring the coach to the estate. The rest were cautioned to be calm and speak to nobody of what they knew.

Eliza was helped from the horse by her brother, but her knees were so weak she could barely walk. Nicholas simply scooped her up and carried her into the house. He did not pause in the hallway to answer Brody's questions, but took her to her bedroom. Setting her on the bed, he tugged on the pull to call Collette. He knew Rebecca's maid would be much calmer than Eliza's vaporous servant.

“You want me, m'lord?” Collette asked, bafflement on her round face.

“Will you help Eliza?”

“Yes, m'lord.” Glancing at the young woman's colorless face, she dared to ask, “What has happened?”

Nicholas had been about to storm out of the bedroom to wait in the sitting room, but he paused. Rage pulled his lips so tight that white puckered around his mouth. “Rebecca has been kidnapped. Sims is dead.”

In horror, she crossed herself and whispered a prayer. She listened as Lord Foxbridge tersely told her what he knew and ordered her to help Eliza change from her traveling clothes. Although the maid's face grew pale, she simply nodded. On Lord Foxbridge's face she could see his suffering, which would be far deeper than any of the rest of them could feel. As much as the staff loved Lady Foxbridge, to this man the blue-eyed woman was the source of his life.

He paced as he had before he had gone to search for the carriage. His fingers itched to be at the throat of the man who threatened his wife. He would take great pleasure in choking him slowly while the criminal begged for a mercy he had not afforded Rebecca. Over and over in his mind, he could hear Eliza's words that the man had struck Rebecca viciously. Her captor would never beat Rebecca into submission. Her stubbornness would bring her only more pain. Such treatment would make her perversely more intolerant of her captivity. He had to find her before she destroyed herself like a wild bird beating itself to death against the bars of its cage. Rebecca would be no more accepting of her prison, wherever and whatever it was.

Without knocking, he returned to his sister's bedroom. Collette was assisting her back into bed. Quietly, he ordered, “Tell me again what the man said, Eliza. Try to remember his exact words.”

She trembled as she drew the blankets around her lacy nightcoat. “I will try, but I was so terrified that much of it is a blur.” Although she wanted to forget, she was the only witness. She must remember every detail to help Rebecca. She repeated the words that the man behind the domino had told her to convey to her brother.

Nicholas nodded with a grim smile. “It's as I thought. Rebecca's abductor must be one of the guests. I still don't understand why this has happened.”

“There have been rumors that Rebecca is working for the government of the United States and that she wants to see the monarchy deposed here, Nicholas. That is the reason, it is rumored, that she wanted her school. To indoctrinate the children with her ideas of democracy.”

He stared at her in astonishment, then laughed. “Rebecca? Trying to topple the British government singlehandedly? That's absurd! No one would believe that!”

Softly she said, “I think someone has. Why else would they kidnap her? They must think that you agree. There is no other reason why they would abduct Rebecca. She is Lady Foxbridge, but if it was money or favors they wanted, they would not risk waiting until Saturday before they contacted you. They would want to make the deal quickly.”

Although he yearned to scoff at her words, she might be correct. All it would take was one craven fool to convince his friends that Rebecca Wythe was a threat, and she would be easy prey. In these strange days, such idiocy could be believed. If Rebecca was in the hands of a madman, then it was all the more reason to find her as swiftly as possible.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. He opened it to see his mother's pale face. She was unsteady as she stepped into the room, so he took her arm comfortingly. “Is it true, Nicholas? Is Rebecca gone? Where is Eliza?”

He nodded. “Eliza is here. Someone disguised as a highwayman stopped the carriage, killed Sims, and rode off with Rebecca.”

“Killed Sims?” she repeated in shock. The coachman had been at Foxbridge Cloister when she had arrived as a young bride. She could not imagine him being murdered on these quiet country roads.

“He was trying to protect Rebecca.” His calm was splitting to show the pain beneath his normally unbreachable facade.

She shook off his hand and crossed the room to gaze down at her daughter. “Are you unharmed, child?”

“Except for my nerves, Mother. It's Rebecca we need to worry about.” Eliza's voice cracked as tears began to slide along her face again. “It was horrible. The man had a gun which he held to her head. Those horrible men took her with them. They are going to hurt her more.”

Lady Margaret looked at her son compassionately. She sat on the bed and held her devastated daughter in her arms. “What are you going to do, Nicholas? Is there anything I can do to help?”

In astonishment, he stared at her. Less than an hour ago, she had been defaming his wife. His eyebrows arched with typical insolence. “What do you think I plan to do? I intend to find her. Do you think I am going to leave my wife in the hands of those men?”

“Don't look at me like that. Although I truly wish you had married someone other than a Yankee, I never wished Rebecca ill fortune.” She sighed as she finally accepted the inevitable when it might be too late. “As you said, Nicholas, she is your wife. We will do whatever is necessary to get her back safely. What do they want? I hope they aren't too anxious. It will take a couple of days for us to have the solicitors bring gold from London.”

“They don't want money, Mother. Certainly they are in no hurry. They won't be contacting me until Saturday night at the ball.” He paused in his pacing to stare directly at the two women. “What they want is me, although I have no idea why. Those who I know are my enemies would not be so ungentlemanly to attack me through Rebecca. They would confront me directly. If only I had some clue as to who they were, I might be able to find her before—” A second knock halted him. Irritably, he demanded, “Who is it?”

“Curtis. Brody told me you were all up here. May I come in?”

As soon as the door was opened, Eliza propelled herself off the bed into the arms of her sweetheart. He pulled her tight to him as he tried to comfort her. She sobbed with the same strong emotion as she had wept when her brother had discovered her in the coach driven by a dead man.

Over her head, Curtis glanced at the haggard faces of the other Wythes. “What's wrong? Where's Rebecca?”

“She has been kidnapped,” replied Nicholas shortly.

“Kidnapped?” His brow furrowed as he regarded the lord with an uneasy half smile. “You're joking, aren't you?”

Viciously, the distraught man turned to him. “Do I sound as if I am joking? My wife is in the hands of some madman. That is no reason to joke, Langston!”

Curtis took a step backwards when facing the fury of the taller man. For a moment, fear shone on his face. It was replaced by sympathy as he looked at Eliza, who clung to him. He took a deep breath before saying, “Excuse me, Nicholas. That was an unforgivably crass remark. It's just that this situation is hard to believe. Why Rebecca?”

“I have been asking myself exactly the same thing. I would guess it is to get to me. Rebecca has no enemies who would be involved with something like this.” He did not need to clarify his statement. He considered his wife's only enemy to be a jealous Clarisse Beckwith. Suddenly his shoulders sagged. The pressure was growing too intense. “I'm going to our rooms to do some thinking. I must get Rebecca home safely. If you will excuse me …”

Margaret came over and put her arms around her son. Tears bubbled from the corners of her eyes. “She'll be all right, Nicholas. Rebecca is strong. She will fight them.”

With horror blatant on his face, he asked, “But don't you see that is what I fear most? Rebecca will fight them, and they will retaliate by hurting her.” He paid no attention to his sister's strangled gasp. “Don't wait supper for me.”

“Rest, son. She will be in our prayers.”

He nodded. Silently, he went down the hall to the suite which belonged to the lord of Foxbridge Cloister and his lady. He closed the heavy door and gazed across the sitting room toward the fireplace. By the chair where Rebecca sat in the evenings were her papers and books she used to prepare lessons for her little school, which had fueled rumors leading to this insanity. Her slippers peeked from under a chair. She had kicked them off last night when their kisses had lured them into bed.

With a moan, he walked into the bedroom. On the bed, her nightgown waited. His hands wrapped around the massive upright of the tester as he leaned his head against it. If he closed his eyes, he could hear her light laugh and see her sparkling eyes as she ran to embrace him. He could visualize her face below his lost in the passion they shared. Another image flashed through his mind as he recalled her sleeping next to him, her dark hair a cloud upon the white pillowcase and her body curled against his.

For the first time since they had consummated their marriage and discovered the depth of their love, he would sleep without Rebecca at his side. He sighed as he tried to keep the sorrow deep inside him. At first light, he would be searching for the woman he loved. He would be wide awake at dawn, for he would not be sleeping at all tonight. He could hope only that clues to Rebecca's whereabouts would be less elusive than sleep through this tortured night.

Chapter Twenty-One

Rebecca was not surprised that her captor returned the next morning soon after the waters receded from the mouth of the cave. She did not know whether to be pleased or not when he came with another. For a moment, she had to be happy simply because he had come back. It would have been so easy for him to abandon her. Easy, but she knew he wanted to enjoy her torture. She was less fearful of the upcoming interview with another to watch. Surely he would not abuse her so violently when one of his men witnessed it. Then she was not so certain. These animals most likely would enjoy seeing one of their number hurt her.