At first, Bridget didn’t understand what had happened. She thought he had simply stopped speaking, though she couldn’t understand why. “We should be what?” she asked.
Then she realized something was wrong. His eyes had slowly rolled back in his head, and as she watched, he crumpled to the ground in a heap.
Bridget let out a cry and ran toward him, dropping to her knees, heedless of the snow. She laid her fingertips on the side of his neck and felt his pulse, strong and sure. He was alive, then, thank goodness—but what had happened?
She got to her feet, about to run into the inn and seek help, when a hand closed on her arm.
Bridget spun around, her heart in her throat.
The person behind her was a tall, burly-looking man, but his face was covered by a cloth, and she couldn’t tell who he was, or even if she would have known him by sight. She pulled against his grip, but he held on tightly.
“You’re not going anywhere,Bridget,” he growled.
She opened her mouth to scream for help, but he must have anticipated that, for he clapped his free hand over her lips, blocking her cry. “None of that,” he hissed. “You keep quiet, or you meet the same fate as him.” He jerked his head toward the driver, prone in the snow.
Panic, bitter and sharp, rushed through Bridget’s veins. She had no idea what to do. She couldn’t allow this man to take her. That would only end horribly. Who knew what he had in mind? It couldn’t be good—men who snatched women from carriages in the night were the very worst sorts of criminals.
If only I had stayed with Reeves, none of this would be happening.She couldn’t help the thought. She would be in the warm manor right now, perhaps conversing with him about the day’s events. Maybe they would be reading Emma a story together…
The man began to drag her away from the carriage.
She struggled against him, but it was no use. He was much stronger than she was. He kept his hand firmly pressed over her mouth, the other arm wrapping around her waist, and no matter how hard she fought, she was powerless to break free of his clutches.
He pulled her around to the back of the inn and through a rear door. Her fear was so potent now that she was having trouble breathing, and his palm over her mouth wasn’t helping. As he threw her into a darkened room, finally releasing her, she fell to her hands and knees and gasped for air.
“You stay here,” he bit out. “I’ll go deal with that driver of yours.”
Her panic spiked—was he going to kill the driver?“What are you going to do to him?”
“I’d be more worried about yourself if I were in your shoes,” the man said darkly, and then he was gone, slamming the door behind him.
The room was pitch-dark now that the door was closed. Bridget felt her way into a corner, her whole body shivering with pain, fear, and cold. She knew in that moment that she would do anything to get away from this horrible man and to get back to Reeves, but he had taken her captive…
She gasped, making the connection.
This is the kidnapper.
Of course it was. Who else would stop a carriage that belonged to the Duke of Greystone and take the occupant captive? It was possible that this was simply a random attack, but Bridget doubted it. The man seemed too unsurprised by who he had found. It was as if he had been expecting her personally. He had even used her name. He knew who she was.
Bridget didn’t have any enemies. The only people she even knew were the people she’d met through her work at the orphanage, and none of them had reason to hate her.
But Reeves certainly had an enemy, even though they had never been able to figure out exactly why. There was someone who meant him harm and who tried to cause that harm by kidnapping the people Reeves cared about.
First Emma. Then he had broken into the house and tried to take Emma again. And now he had come after her.
Well, that’s good. If this kidnapper is going to attack someone, I’m glad it’s me and not Emma,she thought firmly as she sat in the dark, her arms wrapped around her knees.It’s good that this has happened. Whatever comes next, I’ll just have to remember that. It’s a good thing. I’m glad I’m the one it’s happening to.
The thoughts were fierce. They gave her strength as she sat in the darkness, waiting. She was able to beat back her fear. Whatever this was, it would no doubt be bad, but she would bear throughit, armed with the knowledge that by being here, she was sparing Emma.
Whatever happens now, I can trust that she’ll be all right. This man, whoever he is, will focus his attention on me.
She would do all she could to make sure that she absorbed as much of his attention as possible so that he wouldn’t turn back and try to attack Emma again. Even if it was the last thing she ever did.
The door opened once more, allowing a crack of light into the room. The man came back in. She saw his hand lift to his face and begin to remove his mask, but then he closed the door, and she was in darkness once more.
“What do you want with me?” she managed and was relieved to hear that her voice had grown much steadier in the face of her resolve.
“It isn’t you I want,” the man growled.
