“Granger is dead,” Case said flatly. “We found him with his throat cut.”
“There is more you should know,” Carston said urgently. “What I am going to say may sound unbelievable had I not seen it with my own eyes. Granger was on the ship that went down and he wasn’t the only survivor.”
A knot began to form in Justin’s stomach.
“Lord Penroth did not perish as was assumed. He and Granger survived and managed to return to England some months ago. Granger, acting under the orders of the earl, began stalking Lady Penroth, and I assume he was also behind the attempts on her life.”
“Oh my God,” Justin breathed as he and Case exchanged looks of horror. “I must get back to Jillian. I left her at the ball with Lady Bea.”
He and Case sprinted down the alleyway back to Justin’s carriage. The ride back to Lady Bea’s seemed interminable. Case looked no less worried. “Christ! What are we going to do, Justin? This certainly changes everything.”
“This changes nothing,” Justin said flatly. “I won’t let that bastard near Jillian. I’ll kill him first.”
The carriage had not come to a full stop before Justin bolted from it and ran up the steps of Lady Bea’s house. It was eerily quiet and oddly devoid of guests. He had only been gone two hours. The festivities should still be in full swing.
Then Lady Bea appeared before him, her tear-stained face sending his heart plummeting into his stomach.
“I tried to stop him,” she said tearfully. “But he took her away. He’s alive. Her husband isalive.”
“Where did he take her?” Justin demanded, panic threatening to overcome him.
“I don’t know, your grace,” she said shakily. “He carried her to a carriage.”
“Carried?”
“She fainted when she saw him, and he carried her out.”
Justin swore and turned to Case. “Where would he go? Where was his London home?”
“Begging your pardon, your grace,” a nearby footman broke in. “He was in a hack.”
“Come on, Case, we have to find the driver of that hack,” Justin said urgently. “If he’s hurt her—” He broke off, choking on the words.
“We’ll find her,” Case said firmly.
###
Jillian slowly opened her eyes. Had it been a dream? Awareness of her surroundings began to dawn. She was lying on the seat of a carriage, the rocking and swaying telling her they were in motion.
She closed her eyes again not wanting to alert him to the fact that she was conscious. Hot tears pricked her eyelids and a feeling of despair threatened to overwhelm her as she digested the events of the last hour. How quickly things had changed.
Such a short time ago, she had made the decision to marry Justin and tell him she loved him. Now it didn’t matter. In one instant, her entire life had been upended. Gone were the dreams of a life with Justin. She may never even see him again and she had never told him she loved him. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
“Crying for your lover?”
She flinched. The voice she had prayed never to hear again assaulted her senses. Searing pain gripped her scalp as his hand wrapped around her hair and yanked her upwards into a sitting position.
He was more evil-looking than ever. His ordeal at sea had weathered his features and hardened his face. The face that had charmed her so easily so long ago.
“What have you to say for yourself?” he demanded, his eyes glittering in anger.
She remained silent, staring back at him, refusing to be cowed.
He raised his hand and backhanded her viciously across the face. “Answer me, bitch!”
Her head snapped back and she let out a cry of pain. She cupped her injured cheek in her hand and looked at him with all the hatred she had never allowed him to see before.
“Breaking you will be much more gratifying this time,” he said, a satisfied gleam in his eye.
