Julia stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Have you come to take me back to school?”
He ignored her. His eyes rested on Thea with an ugly smile.
Thea fought a shiver, noting his implacable expression. “Let Julia go. The earl’s men will be here shortly. You’ll never get away.”
“That’s just it, Miss Tothill. I always check before I act. The gamekeeper is miles away. No one is in the vicinity to hear you.” Farnborough waved his gun at her. “My coach is over the river. You both have a walk ahead of you, so move.”
The beefy, tough featured man who had yet to say a word slapped their mounts on their rumps and sent them galloping away. The horses would eventually turn up at the stables. Then the earl would know something had happened to them. He would send an army of servants out to look for them. Her shoulders slumped with the realization that hours could pass before that happened.
“Did you hurt Phillips?” she asked bitterly. “You are a monster.” Icy panic filled her veins. Was the groom lying unconscious, or had Farnborough murdered him?
“Be careful what you say. I can easily kill you right here and toss your body in the river.” Farnborough’s stony gray eyes gazed at her with the utmost contempt. She was in his way, but there was more to his dislike. Thea had rebuffed him and wounded his conceit. He looked vicious, and she wondered why he didn’t kill her. But she refused to dwell on what he had in store for them. She would wait for her chance to outwit him.
Released from the man’s clutches, Julia ran to Thea, who put a comforting arm around her. “Best we do what he says.” She was afraid Julia might act rashly and make Farnborough angry. “Let Ash deal with these rogues.”
“You put a great deal of trust in Grainger.” Farnborough distastefully stamped the mud off his top boots. “He was not able to save Spencer, now was he?”
Fury heated Thea’s cheeks, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of responding. She took hold of Julia’s hand, and they crossed the narrow wooden bridge only wide enough for two people or a man on horseback. There was no chance of escape as they walked behind the ruffian while Farnborough, leading his horse, followed behind. Lush green meadows sprinkled with black-faced sheep lay ahead of them where a road wound its way west, which Thea imagined would lead to the estate boundary.
Thea looked back to search the trees, hoping for a sign of Phillips, but nothing stirred.Please, God, don’t let him be dead, she prayed. Farnborough’s hard push on her back sent her stumbling to the end of the bridge and onto the soft ground beyond. Julia ran after her and took her arm to steady her.
Responding with a bracing smile, Thea attempted to reassure the frightened girl, but they were in terrible danger. Farnborough had some destination in mind. But wondering about his purpose threatened to make her knees buckle, so she thought instead of what she might do to save them. She must leave clues for Ash to follow. They set out along a rough track through the meadows, the damp grass wetting the hem of her habit. Julia wore one of Thea’s other habits of rifle green wool. It touched Thea deeply and saddened her when the girl held up her skirts to keep them dry.
A coach waited on the road, the coachman, a thin man with a pock-marked face, standing at the horses’ heads.
On reaching it, the big-muscled man pushed them inside.
Farnborough mounted his horse. “Take them to the lodge, Bertram. You know what to do. We’ll meet up tomorrow.”
“We’ll need some blunt to be going on with,” Bertram said. “Fred and I are taking all the chances.”
Farnborough glared at him. “You’re coming into more money than you ever dreamed of in your miserable life. Don’t forget that. I expect you to carry out my orders. And when I have the proof, you will be paid.”
A shudder of fear raced through her as she watched Farnborough ride away. Had he hired these men to kill Julia and her?
Bertram climbed into the coach with them. He took a roll of twine from his pocket and eyed her coldly. “Hold out your hands.”
She cried out as the twine bit into her skin. “Not so tight,” she admonished him.
“Keep still, or you’ll be sorry. It’s worse than trussing a live chicken.” He scowled as he pulled hard, bringing tears to her eyes. Beside her, Julia whimpered.
Ash found nosign of Farnborough at his usual haunts. No one had seen him at his clubs or the gaming house he frequented in Bury Street run by an unscrupulous black legs called Captain Midnight. A few minutes in that establishment watching young gentlemen falling into serious debt sickened Ash, and he left as soon as he made sure Farnborough wasn’t there.
After a sleepless night, he rose to breakfast early. His impatience to see his great-aunt got the better of him, and he rode to Chelsea at an unreasonable hour, hoping to find her at home.
He was in luck. Walking into the drawing room, Clara greeted him. She patted the sofa cushion beside her. “Just the person I wished to see.”
“You have news?” He lent down breathing in her perfume, Attar of Roses, and kissed her powdery cheek.
“You can thank me later, Ashton. I am exhausted. A lady of my age should never travel! I have ordered tea.” She gazed at him shrewdly. “Can you guess where I’ve been?”
“No, but I confess to being very interested.” Ash wasn’t in the mood to play games, but he bit his tongue and waited as his great-aunt took her time rearranging her shawl.
“To Bath, of course,” she said, gazing at him shrewdly. “I stayed with Marianne Kent. We spent a pleasant afternoon playing loo with friends. I would have liked to stay longer, but I had to return straight away.”
“Oh?” he asked, fighting his impatience.
“For you, of course.” She laughed. “I shan’t tease you further, Ashton.” She rummaged in her reticule and drew out a piece of paper. Handing it to him, she said dramatically, “The address of the lady you seek.”
