Wicked Designs (The League of Rogues) (40 page)

Tanner cleared his head as he stole up on the sleeping girl. He pocketed his bloody knife before he leaned down and scooped the girl up into his arms.

She shifted restlessly, murmuring to herself. “No more…please…no more.”

Tanner breathed a sigh of relief when her dreams did not wake her. He didn’t want her screaming or fighting. If she slept all the way down to his carriage, she’d be his easiest job yet. Far easier than the spaniel, his boots still had teeth marks on them.

He walked down the stairs, kicked the body of the man he’d attacked for good measure and proceeded out the door he came in. Once outside, he flagged down his hired carriage. The girl started to wake as the carriage rattled loudly up to them. Tanner told the coachman where to go as he hopped down and opened the carriage door. She finally awoke as Tanner dropped the girl onto the seat opposite him.

She gasped and scurried into the corner, putting as much distance between them as possible. “Who are you?”

He pulled his blade out of his pocket, leaned forward, and pointed it at her chest. Her pretty little eyes fixed on the blade’s tip, still splashed in crimson. “I would say I’m your worst nightmare, but considering whom I’m taking you to—that wouldn’t be entirely true.”

He expected the girl to cry, to beg for her freedom, to bargain. She didn’t. Slowly, she combed through the tangles in her hair with her fingers, fixed her dress and assumed a look of grace and dignity.

“Then you must be one of Blankenship’s thugs.”

“Thug, Madame? I am not some lowly cutpurse.”

The woman shrugged. “You are no different than the others I’ve encountered.”

Tanner was rattled by her tone. She seemed unconcerned, as though the abduction were commonplace. Such self-control. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or concerned for her mental health, for clearly the woman was mad.

Emily focused on slow, steady breaths. She wouldn’t scream if she kept calm.

She refused to think about how this man found her, or who he might have hurt in the process. If she knew she’d lose herself to her terror, and Blankenship would win. She forced herself to study the man, taking in his dark eyes, unkempt brown hair, footman’s clothes and the sneer etched into his features.

He looked to be around thirty or so in years, and radiated with a survivor’s sharpness, a razor’s edge balance of sanity. This man was a professional, and dangerous.

Fear threatened to consume her, but unlike her first abduction, she had a better grasp of how to handle the situation. After her encounter with Evangeline she believed she could emulate the other woman’s confidence and possibly act her way out of this peril. It was a chance if nothing else, one she had to take.

“Is he paying you well?” she asked.

The man nodded. “Five hundred pounds to deliver you to his doorstep.”

Emily feigned surprise. “Only five hundred? He offered the last man he hired double that.” The lie came easily as she tried to emulate Evangeline’s imperious tone, albeit without the French accent.

“What last man? He never mentioned anyone else.”

“Of course he wouldn’t. He killed that man to avoid payment.” Emily plucked at her gown by her knees as though her words didn’t concern her.

“You’re lying!”

“Lie?” She met his gaze with innocence. “Why on earth would I lie? You’ll deliver me regardless. I just thought I should warn you. He got blood everywhere, ruined my best muslin gown and it took simply
ages
for the man to die. I merely don’t wish to witness such a thing again. It’s unsettling and ruins my appetite.” Emily’s voice was almost flippant, as she pretended that she’d experienced gruesome murders with disturbing frequency.

It was useless to expect this man to let her go, but if he and Blankenship argued, then she might have a chance to escape.

The rest of the carriage ride passed in silence. The man studied Emily and she studied him back. The silent battle of wills ended when the carriage reached Blankenship’s townhouse. He gripped her arm roughly, dragging her out of the carriage with such ferocity that she stumbled and fell against him. She had clearly struck a nerve.

Blankenship’s ancient butler answered the door after her kidnapper beat it for what felt like several minutes. He pulled Emily into the hall and shouted for Blankenship.

The butler gave a heavy sigh and left.

Blankenship appeared the top of the stairs, dressed and alert despite the late hour. His beady eyes rested on Emily’s face then skimmed down her body. His whole air, from his eyes to the straightness of his spine, glittered with a malevolence that terrified Emily. It felt as though a thousand beetles scuttled over her skin.

“Well done, Mr. Tanner, well done. Did you have to kill anyone to get to her?” Blankenship didn’t come down the stairs. He waited for her at the top, like some high and mighty sultan whose harem girl groveled before him.

Emily’s nails dug painfully into her palms. Something inside her began to burn. She was tired of being at the mercy of others, especially a man who meant her harm. Tonight she would fight. He’d regret ever looking at her.

“Possibly one. I was in a hurry and murder was not my task.”

Tanner’s pronouncement made her heart stop beating. Possibly one? Which one? Dear God…her vision swam and she fought to stay on her feet.

“A pity, but it’s true, murder carries its own complications.” Blankenship smiled at Emily. “Bring her up to me.” The smile lasted as her abductor dragged her up the stairs.

“On your knees, girl,” Blankenship barked.

Emily glared and raised her chin.

Tanner gripped her shoulders from behind and shoved her downward. She fell onto her knees. Blankenship’s eyes darkened.

“My, my Miss Parr, I quite like you on your knees.” Blankenship reached down to stroke her hair with his fingertips. “Perhaps that is how we shall begin tonight?”

Emily wanted to hide her rage, but failed.

He jerked her chin up. “So defiant. I see the fire inside you. I will enjoy beating that rebelliousness out of your screaming body. I couldn’t have your mother, but I will have you.”

“My mother?” she choked out. What did her mother have to do with this?

“I suppose you wouldn’t know,” he mused. “I almost married her, but she chose that fool you called a father. She broke my heart and so I damaged their business. I hurt them in a thousand little ways, but never enough.” He continued to study her as he talked, as though enjoying finally revealing his schemes.

“You ruined my parents?” She remembered the finances always being tight, and the whispered conversations between her parents. Blankenship had caused it.

“Not just them. Your uncle too, naturally. It was the only way I could get to you.”

Stale cigar smoke and brandy wafted off him, in addition to his other unpleasant smells. His fingers dug deep into her face, nails leaving curved imprints. All this time, all the heartache she’d suffered…her parents had gotten onto that ship to go to America to try and restore their company and had died. Blankenship had killed her parents. If she’d had a gun at that moment, she would have shot the man between the eyes.

“Does my uncle know you’ve taken me?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“He no longer matters. You are mine, per his agreement, and as far as I am concerned his debts are settled.” Blankenship turned her face to the side, as though admiring her profile, while he spoke to Tanner. “Have you ever seen anything so deliciously innocent? Look at those lips.”

“Yes, sir, she’s a decent looking chit. But I’ll have my money now, if it’s all the same to you and be on my way.” Tanner’s eyes followed every move the other man made as though he didn’t trust him. Good.

Blankenship released Emily’s face and turned his fury onto Tanner. “In good time. The banks do not open till morning.”

“Pay me or I take her back.” Tanner latched a hand around Emily’s right wrist, jerking her up to her feet, just as Blankenship coiled a hand around her throat. Both men tugged on her. Pain flashed through Emily’s body and her vision blurred. Black spots dotting her eyes.

“You dare threaten me?” Blankenship, with surprising strength, flung Emily away. She stumbled, rolled and then crashed against the wall.

Stars burst behind her eyelids. The scene blurred as she tried to catch her breath. The two men grappled with each other. Emily tried to crawl away, but Tanner grabbed her by the back of her neck and once more put her between him and Blankenship. He withdrew his blade and pressed the tip of it into her neck. “One more step and I end her life.”

Blankenship took another step. Emily winced, stifling a cry as the blade pinched deeper. “Be still,” Tanner whispered in her ear.

“She doesn’t matter to me! You want her? Take her.”

“Five hundred pounds for something that doesn’t matter? I suppose that might be true…if you had never intended to pay.” Tanner took a step back from Emily, then shoved her forward towards Blankenship. Blankenship backhanded her across the cheek with whip-like force and she fell to the floor, scrambling out of the way just in time as the two men dove towards each other. Tanner’s blade fell during the scuffle as the men turned to beating each other with fists. Emily gathered her strength, biting back the tears as her fingers curled around the blade’s worn wooden handle and she hastily got to her feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Blankenship whirled on her, barely dodging a blow from Tanner.

Emily acted without thinking and slashed at him, the blade cutting across his chest. He bellowed like a wounded bear and lunged at her, prying the blade from her hands and with a devil’s fire in his eyes plunged it high into her chest. Tanner shouted in a rage and kicked Blankenship from behind. “I didn’t bring her to you so you could cut her to pieces! Our bargain is ended!”

Emily staggered, shocked by the pain, as the world spun and she lost her footing. She screamed in panic as she tripped backwards down the stairs. She fell, rolling down the stairs until she reached the cold marble at the bottom with a sickening thud.

Godric came out of Cedric’s study shortly after the clock struck midnight. His temper had finally cooled, and he would speak to Emily. She didn’t trust him to not control her. Her immediate safety had made him take measures he never would have in normal circumstances. Now that he understood that he could explain it so she could see it from his point of view. She was a little fool, his darling little fool, for thinking he didn’t love her. Godric planned to spend the next few hours in her bed, proving just how foolish her fears were.

In the dim light that came in from the street he spied a crumpled body at the foot of the stairs. He froze. Had someone fallen?
Cedric
. His heart skipped a painful beat—blood coated his friend’s body. Cedric groaned, moving a few inches. Godric ran over and helped his friend up. The man’s nose was bloody and there was a deep gash along his arm. “What happened?”

“Attacked!” Cedric pointed a shaky hand towards Emily’s room. The door was wide open.

“Help! Someone help!” Godric yelled.

Ashton and Jonathan were the first to arrive, pistols drawn.

“Get a doctor, Ash. Emily’s been taken.” Godric tore out the main door and into the street followed by Jonathan. A lone lamplighter rode to check on the next street lamp nearest them.

Godric ran up to him and grabbed the man’s leg, dragging him to the ground. He gripped the saddle and pulled himself up on the man’s horse.

“See that he’s compensated, Jonathan,” Godric shouted at his brother as he rode off into the night, straight for Blankenship’s home. He was never more thankful that he’d asked Lucien and Ashton where the vile man lived.

Jabbing his heels into the horse’s sides, he urged it go as fast as possible. He didn’t care if he lamed the beast or it threw a shoe, only Emily mattered. How could he have left her alone? God, he couldn’t let himself think of her being hurt, or worse.

When he reached Blankenship’s townhouse, Godric launched himself off the horse and, through the open doorway, only to stumble upon a horrifying sight.

Blankenship, at the top of the stairs, plunging a knife into Emily’s chest.

A footman took up the fight with Blankenship, but Godric could only watch helplessly as Emily staggered back, lost her footing on the stairs and…

Godric couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cry out. Terror immobilized him as his Emily tumbled down the stairs, bleeding. She didn’t move. Blood oozed from her body, slowly pooling around her on the floor.

The footman had lost the upper hand, distracted by Godric in the open doorway. He screamed something about their agreement and threw himself at Blankenship bare handed, but Blankenship still had the blade. With one swift flick of his wrist he cut the footman’s throat. The man fell to his knees, blood spurting down the front of his shirt and coat.

Godric found the ability to move and knelt down beside Emily, his own body trembling so violently he could no longer stand. He collapsed next to her before he gathered the strength to turn her onto her back.

His shaking fingers brushed over her cheeks. “Emily, sweetheart, please open your eyes.” He pled with her like a dying man. “My last words to you were cruel and cold. I wish to God I could take them back.” His insides churned, roiled, threatened to explode. Godric had to keep talking or he’d go mad with grief. “Why didn’t you believe I loved you? You changed me, Emily. When I was with you, I didn’t just want to be a better man. I
was
a better man because you were in my life. How will I endure without you?”