He struggled to free himself, to no avail. Ransom’s footmen had expertly bound the ropes around his ankles, knees, and wrists.
Think, Kent. You have to get to Tessa.
He needed something sharp to slice through the thick cords.
A knife—in the kitchen.
He tried to rise to his feet, but his bound legs made him fall backward. He grunted as the impact jarred his pounding head and bruised ribs. He waited to catch his breath, then, using his feet and tied legs, propelled himself awkwardly toward the closest wall. The journey seemed to last forever.
Finally, he got there. Propping his back to the wall, he managed to push himself to his feet. Breathing heavily, he estimated the distance to his destination: a dozen yards. He would jump there, get to a knife.
He took the first hop. His entire body shouted in protest.
Gritting his teeth, he repeated the motion.
The door flew open, two figures silhouetted in the doorway.
Ambrose and Strathaven.Thank God they hadn’t heeded his instructions to stay away.
“Harry?” Ambrose exclaimed. “Bloody hell, what’s happened?”
Relief poured through Harry as his brother came over, yanked off the gag.
“The Duke of Ranelagh and Somerville has Tessa,” Harry blurted.
His brother-in-law was working on the restraints. The instant the knots loosened, Harry tore free and shook off the ropes.
He headed to the door in a run. “I’ll explain everything on the way back to London!”
“Do you not find the meal to your liking, my dear?”
Tessa paused in the act of pushing her food around her plate. “It’s fine.”
Ransom dissected his quail with a precision that made her feel a bit queasy. In fact, so did everything in the opulent dining room of his townhouse. They were having a late supper, having driven all day to get back to London. During the ride, her shock and fury at Bennett’s betrayal had slowly faded. Now she felt heartache and despair…and realized that she may have jumped out of the frying pan and into the fires of hell.
Ransom had been pleasant enough, but she didn’t trust him. His elegance, sensual good looks, and sophisticated ennui: all of it seemed like a mask. She had no idea who this man truly was or what he wanted, other than her dowry.
She pushed her plate aside. “I want to go to my mama.”
“We’ll fetch her tomorrow. On the way to our marriage ceremony.” His golden hazel eyes had a predacious gleam. “She can bear witness.”
Why, oh why, had she agreed so rashly to marry him?
“I cannot possibly marry you until my grandpapa is safe,” she said quickly. “I want all of my family present at our wedding.”
“Finding your grandfather will take resources, my dear. Alas, my coffers are empty,” he said ruefully, “which means I will need access to your dowry in order locate him.”
“I’ll sell my jewelry,” she said.
“Quid pro quo, Tessa.”
Ransom’s words were cool but hard. Much like the man himself. Which proved her theory that aristocrats were as ruthless as cutthroats; the only difference was the weaponry they preferred. The duke wasn’t above using her family’s safety to force her into submission.
Which made her wonder: what else was this man capable of?
“How did you find out that Bennett is Harry Kent?” she said suddenly.
“A little bird told me.”
