“Thank you, my lord. You are very good,” she said tearfully, her handkerchief balled in her fist.
He hesitated, wondering if he should mention her daughter’s whereabouts, then decided more was needed to be done to find her, and the poor lady had enough to contend with.
Hugh left the room with Luke.
“Surrounded by forest, eh?” Luke said. “So, somewhere near Epping Forest, then?”
“It’s all we have to go on,” Hugh said despairingly as he stalked the carpet. “That would mean close to Chigwell, Chingford, or Epping, which narrows it down to several villages.” Had he attacked her? That bloody monster, Rattray! He’d throttle the man with his bare hands.
Chapter Fifteen
Lucy gently investigatedher aching chin. Her head ached as well. Aware of a rocking sensation, she opened her eyes. She was back in the smelly carriage again. The sky beyond the window was gray and tinged with gold and pink as the sun rose. Mr. Rattray sat opposite, watching her. Her stomach lurched, and she feared she might be sick. She lifted the rug over her lap and saw she was wrapped in her dressing gown.
“I haven’t touched you, Miss Kershaw,” he said, as if he should be applauded. “I won’t until we are married. If you mind your manners.”
She stared at him. “You think I’ll marry you? Are you mad?”
“Not at all. I have planned this to perfection.”
“Where is my aunt? Have you hurt her?”
“Merely a little laudanum. It would have given her a good sleep.”
She clenched her jaw in anger and then winced. He’d bruised her when he’d hit her. “You are a scoundrel. I always knew it.” Lucy looked around for something to hit him with. Her feet were bare. Where were her shoes? She must get away somehow. But there was nothing within reach, not even her luggage. She would have to bide her time.
“We will arrive within an hour or two,” he said. “You’d best rest until then.”
“Cambridge? So soon?”
He shook his head with a sly smile. “Epping Forest, my dear. I have rented a cottage near there.”
“You are a fraud,” she said. “You’re not wealthy at all. This carriage is the best you can afford. And I’m sure you have no country estate.” She sagged back against the squab. This was all her fault. He believed her lie and thought her wealthy. If she insisted she wasn’t, would he believe her? Or might he kill her? Chilled to the bone, she tightened her lips, lest she say something wrong. If only she could think, and plan, but she was still woozy.
He leaned forward, with a menacing expression. “You’d best watch yourself. It’s not wise to anger me.”
Lucy glared at him but fell silent. Best not to fight with him now. She would wait until they arrived. But her hopes faded at the thought of escaping through the forest with no one to turn to for help.
Another hour passed in silence. Finally, the carriage slowed, then turned onto a rutted drive deep within trees and dense shrubbery. They rocked along from pothole to pothole until Lucy became queasy. Then the carriage emerged into a clearing and stopped before a wooden cabin. It looked like a rudimentary hunting hut with shutters over the windows. No smoke came from the one chimney on the moss-covered roof.
Lucy gasped. It was even worse than she’d expected. Who would ever find her here? And who was searching for her? She feared no one. Had her aunt returned to London and gone for help? She wished she was confident of that. But even if they came after Rattray, how would they find them?
The groom opened the door and put down the step. “Out you go,” Rattray said, giving her a push.
Lucy glared at the groom, who merely shrugged. The muddy ground had no discernable path to the front door. Lucy’s toes squished in the icy puddles, her feet freezing. She shivered as herkidnapper followed her out of the carriage and took her by the elbow, urging her along toward the cabin.
She pulled away from him and turned to speak to the coachman, who had remained on the box. “This man is abducting me against my will!” she yelled at him. The groom sniggered while the coachman shrugged.
“We want our twenty pounds, Rattray,” he snarled. “We got you here by dawn, as promised. Pay up if you want us to take you the rest of the way.”
Rattray cursed and pulled bills from his pocket. “Here’s half. That’s enough for lodgings for the night. You’ll get the rest at the end of the journey,” he said as the groom came to snatch them up. “Change the horses and don’t get drunk at the tavern. We leave tomorrow at first light,” he warned. “And we have a good deal farther to go.” His hand tightened painfully on Lucy’s arm as he dragged her toward the door. She blinked tears away as she stumbled along.
The groom dumped Lucy’s belongings inside the door.
The cabin was every bit as bad as she’d feared. Thick dust covered everything, even the wooden walls. The soot-laden air smelled of damp. Shivering, Lucy looked longingly toward the fireplace. A pile of ashes filled the grate, an iron cooking pot hanging above it. She’d tracked mud over the bare boards, which hadn’t been swept or washed in years, with her cold, bare feet. There was only a soiled sofa, two threadbare chairs, and a table with a pair of candlesticks and a tinder box.The one other door must lead to the sleeping quarters, she thought as a shudder passed down her spine. No light entered through the shuttered windows. Perhaps the other room had a window without shutters. She could climb out during the night.
“The shutter is bolted shut in there too,” Rattray said, as if guessing her thoughts. He locked the door and tucked the key in his waistcoat pocket. He gestured to the sofa. “Sit down, and ifyou give me no trouble, I’ll let you dress, and we’ll keep the peace until tomorrow.”
“You can’t marry me. I won’t agree to it,” Lucy said, sitting gingerly on the sofa. It sagged beneath her.
