Clara pulled a ribbon from her hair and laid it over the back of the chair. If their plan didn’t work, she wanted someone to know they were there. She took a deep breath, and both she and Abigail assumed their positions. As they waited, the room was shockingly quiet. Abigail kept looking over at her as if to reassure herself Clara was there. Finally, they heard a horse whinny outside. Clara closed her eyes, willing herself to have the courage to follow through with the plan. She heard the metal bar being pulled away from the door, and nodded to Abigail who looked terrified. This was their opportunity.
The door swung open, and the massive man walked through. Clara gulped at the sight of him. Abigail leaned back and swung the wooden broom handle with all her might. He cried out but unsurprisingly didn’t seem fazed.
“You wench!” he howled. Clara pushed the large wooden door shut and swung at the back of his head with the iron pan. He shrieked and spun around. The fury on his face was terrifying. She held her ground and swung again, this time hitting him in his knees. He crumpled to the ground.
“I will kill you,” he yelled.
“Not today,” Clara said before swinging the pan at his head one more time. The sound of the impact echoed off the walls and the man fell to the ground. Abigail let out a moan. Clara dropped the pan and said, ‘There isn’t time for that. Come.”
She wrenched open the wooden door and saw the horse waiting out front. She grabbed Abigail’s hand and darted towards it but was immediately halted by a hand grabbing her shoulder yanking her back. She gasped and looked into Dolan’s amused face.
“Where do you think you are going?”
She tried to pull herself away, but he grabbed her, throwing her to the ground. Abigail yelled in horror, falling with her. She covered Clara’s body and said, “Please don’t.”
Dolan peeled his gloves off slowly and reached down, grabbing Abigail’s chin. “I think you need to teach Mrs. Kincaide here how to behave.”
Abigail nodded, quickly agreeing. "Of course, my lord."
Clara glared up at him, not so submissive. He smirked at her and said, “You will learn your place.”
The massive man stumbled out of the stone building looking murderous. Clara swallowed, the fear trying to overwhelm her. He looked as if he wanted to pound on her and Abigail, but Dolan grabbed him. “You are not to touch them. You are here to do a job and that is to escort them where I say.”
“They attacked me.”
Dolan looked at him with contempt. “I pay you well and if you can’t handle them, then I will need to find someone else.”
Clara despised him. The way he spoke of them only emphasized his lack of decency. Dolan leaned down and yanked her up. “Time to go.”
Clara looked at him with confusion and tried to pull away. “Where are we going?” she asked.
He scowled at her. “That is none of your concern.”
He pulled her towards a carriage. The driver avoided eye contact with her, and she said, “He is taking me against my will.”
The driver ignored her and continued to stare straight ahead.
“Abigail now,” Dolan snapped.
Abigail quickly scrambled into the carriage. Dolan pulled Clara along as she fought him. He squeezed her arm tightly and said, “If you fight me on this, Abigail will pay for your disobedience.”
Clara stopped resisting and as he helped her into the carriage, she asked, “How do you think this will end?”
He grinned at her, menacingly. “Don’t worry, I have a plan.”
Clara shivered at his evil delight. She would get away. She had to.
Chapter 33
They arrived at the mill and Sam knew immediately that Clara and Abigail were not there. Desperation clawed at his throat. He had no idea what to do next or where to turn. It must have been evident on his face because Jack squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. “We will find them.”
Sam swallowed. “We don’t even know where to look.”
“We will find a way,” Jack reiterated.
They all headed to the stone building and Miller lifted the iron latch. Sam pushed his way in the door, hoping he was wrong and that they would find Clara and Abigail inside. He quickly looked around the stone room. His eyes settled on a blue ribbon hanging over a chair so much like the ones Clara used in her hair. He clutched it in his hand and a wave of nausea hit him. She had been there. He swore and kicked the chair across the room, angry that they had missed them.
“Who would know the most about Dolan?” Miller asked, walking around the room.
