CHAPTER1
The rear door at the Earl of Worthing’s town house, which connected the stables to the main house, had been left unlatched, just as Eugenia had promised it would be. Torrie slipped inside through the familiar halls, a customary routine whenever Worthing was otherwise occupied, leaving his significantly younger wife alone. Fortunately for Torrie, Eugenia’s loneliness could be assuaged in any number of ways—all of them infinitely pleasurable—and he was more than eager to accommodate.
Anything to distract him from the demons inhabiting his skull.
Which was why he had come to her tonight at this late hour, dressed in black, bearing the accoutrements for a kidnapping. All in the name of indulging her most unusual whims for the evening.
But then, what better way to celebrate being risen from the dead than drowning oneself in vice? With the fragments of Torrie’s lost memory gradually returning two years after the phaeton accident that had nearly killed him, he was all the more in need of distraction. In desperate need to escape everyone who had known him before.
Because he was different now, and even with the pieces of his old life filtering into his mind like sunlight through attic slats, he would never again be the Torrie he once had been. But those who knew the old Torrie were having a damned difficult time accepting that. His sister, for instance, and his mother, too. His old friend Monty, the Duke of Montrose. Every chum and passing acquaintance he’d been forced to face without knowing their mutual history, what he might have said and done in the past, and what terms they had last parted on.
Being with Eugenia was easy in comparison. Comforting, in a sense. She hadn’t known him then, the man he had apparently been. A man who was a stranger, even to himself. Quite naturally, it helped that she had an insatiable appetite in bed. A lusty nature was the one part of himself, aside from his physical appearance, which he hadn’t lost.
No servants were about on account of the late hour, and he made his way through the quiet halls with ease, finding the staircase which led to the first floor where he knew the library dwelled. Halfway down the hall, he located his quarry. Beneath a partially closed door, the light of a lone taper flickered, calling to him like a lighthouse beacon.
Torrie paused at the threshold and reached into his sack to extract the rope he’d brought to bind Eugenia at her request. She wanted to feel the fear of being swept away from her lavish town house and carried off to her captor’s carriage. Wanted to be ravished as they traveled through Mayfair.
He’d never kidnapped a woman before. At least, he didn’t think he had. The past aside, he was ready. The notion of kidnapping her didn’t titillate him the same way it did Eugenia. Rather, it was the result when they were safely ensconced in his carriage that did.
He heard the creak of a floorboard within, heralding a footstep. Movement. Knowing Eugenia, she was likely growing impatient as she awaited him. He took another moment to sort out the mechanics of what he was about to do. And then he remembered the cravat he’d brought to gag her. A quite ingenious stroke, he’d thought. Feeling about in the sack, he retrieved the cravat as well.
And then, he pushed into the room just as the occupant blew out the candle, cloaking the chamber in darkness.
“Is someone there?” whispered Eugenia, a convincing tremble in her voice.
She sounded oddly vulnerable and unlike herself. Perhaps she was taking this little kidnapping notion of hers seriously.
Should he say something? No, he decided hastily. That would ruin the illusion for her. Instead, he strode toward the sound of the voice. Moonlight shone through the bank of windows, illuminating her silhouette. Showing him where to find her. She truly had thought about every last detail.
He swooped into action, moving behind her and swiftly wrapping his cravat around her mouth, stifling the sound of startlement she made, and tying it in a stern knot. Another low, unintelligible sound of outrage rumbled from her, the cravat doing its work. She tried to spin toward him, but it was futile. He was far stronger, and he caught her with ease, wrapping his rope around her wrists behind her back.
“Unnnhnnnd mrrrrrr,” she protested, her words comically muffled as she tugged at her bound wrists, attempting to free herself, to no avail.
Next came the sack, which he draped over her head.
The action appeared to have a quelling effect on her fight. She went still for a moment, and he wondered if he’d gone too far with his preparations. Well, he’d only been aiming to please.
“You can breathe properly, can you not?” he asked softly.
“Mrrrr nrrrr rarjera,” she said, her voice now going high-pitched, as if she were truly terrified.
If she was speaking, one could reasonably assume she could also breathe, despite the cravat and sack.
“Another moment,” he said, for he had to admit that now that he’d begun this business, it had significantly lessened his ardor.
His cock, hard for the duration of the ride to Worthing’s town house in anticipation of another night with Eugenia, had gone distinctly limp. But he reckoned she could restore it to its former glory when they were ensconced in his carriage and the “kidnapping” was at an end.
She launched herself at him suddenly, taking him by surprise. But with the sack over her head, she was effectively blinded. She stormed to his left, and Torrie simply bent, catching her over his shoulder. Much to his aggravation, she continued her struggles.
Eugenia ought to have recalled the injuries he’d suffered in the accident, which had left him with a back that chose to remind him of his follies with alarming frequency and any change of the weather. He swatted her rump for good measure.
“Damn it, Eugenia,” he said, taking care to keep his voice low to avoid any lingering servants overhearing and raising the alarm. “Cease wriggling, if you please.”
His warning seemed to only heighten her frenzy. More muffled sounds of protest emerged.
“Mmmmmrrrr, mrrrrrrrrrrr, mrrrrrrrrrrrr!”
This was growing tedious. On the next occasion Eugenia sent a note to him telling him her husband would be away for the evening, he was going to bloody well suggest they simply fuck in her bed in the ordinary fashion. He was growing too old for such nonsense.
