“My luggage,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“Anything my betrothed wishes,” he said with a chuckle, holding out the bowl to her. When she took it, he dragged her bags inside the room but was out again as she moved toward the front door, planning to ditch the water and run.
“I wouldn’t do that.” He growled. “Don’t make me angry.”
Lucy silently went into the room and shut the door.
*
Without wasting time,Hugh left London within the hour and took the road to Chigwell with Luke beside him. He refused to think of it as a wild goose chase. He wasn’t about to give up until he found Lucy but admitted they had very little to go on. He didn’t want to waste time putting up somewhere for the night, but the night was cloudy, and he had to consider the safety of his passenger and his horses.
“The clouds are blowing away,” Luke said when Hugh had asked him what he thought. “I say we stop for dinner, water the horses, then go on.”
Hugh nodded gratefully. “An excellent suggestion. Mrs. Grayswood’s directions to the inn where she and Lucy spent the night will be helpful. Too much to expect the innkeeper to know of Rattray’s direction, I suppose, but we’ll stop there to dine and ask him a few questions.”
Darkness fell as they reached the inn. It was a shabby establishment, and if they’d toyed with the idea of a meal, they quickly discounted it. Even the aromas from the kitchen didn’t invite investigation. But the innkeeper was happy to talk about his recent guests and show them the bedchamber Mrs. Grayswood and Lucy had shared. It kept its secrets close, with no more than a delicate perfume lingering in the air. With a pang, Hugh recognized it as lily of the valley, Lucy’s scent, which he’d found so appealing. Breathing it now sent a rush of anxiety flooding through him, along with the fierce urge to get back on the road in search of her. An inquiry of the stable staff was more enlightening. The groom had heard Rattray say to his coachman that he expected them to arrive at daybreak, or they wouldn’t be paid. “They carried the girl into the coach, milord,”the groom said with a sad shake of his head. “She seemed deeply asleep. I realized when morning came and the girl’s aunt was so distraught that I should have done something to stop them, although they were armed. I did help the poor lady find a carriage to take her back to London.”
Hugh wrestled down another bout of fear. He had to keep a clear mind. It wasn’t time for speculation.
They were soon on the road again, the cool night wrapping around them. Would they be able to find Lucy in time?
“We’d best discuss how we’ll go about this rescue,” Luke said, showing remarkable confidence in their success. “It might be better if I handle Rattray, and you see to his servants, only two, according to the groom. By your expression, I fear you’ll kill the fellow.”
“Very likely,” Hugh said through gritted teeth. “But allow me the pleasure of dealing with him.”
Chapter Sixteen
There was nolock on the door. Lucy dragged the table over against it. It wouldn’t keep Rattray out, but it would give her time to prepare herself. She washed her face and then her feet, drying them on a petticoat. Then, watching the door, she quickly stripped off her dressing gown and nightgown.
She drew on her shift and tied up her stays, then sat to pull on stockings. Donning her warmest gown, a lavender-gray wool with a high neck, she slipped into her half-boots. They would be best if she had to run through the forest. She’d left her hairpins on the dressing table at the inn and could only manage to brush and braid her hair. Then, feeling a little better, she peered into her reticule and withdrew a small notebook and pencil she carried. Resting it on her knee, she wrote about what had happened to her, what Rattray had done and said he would do, then slipped it into her stays. It appeared she was valuable to Rattray, so she doubted he’d kill her, not intentionally at least, not until after their marriage and he had the money. But should she die, she wanted whoever found her body to learn what he had done. She wanted her father to know what had happened to her and warn him that he was in danger of being suspected of murder. Hopefully, the note might be found. If Rattray told the truth and the marquess and both of his sons would die, her father would become the new marquess. But he would be left burdened with a heavy heart. She must try to escape.
The door opened and banged against the table. “What do you want?” she demanded.
“I have a roll for your breakfast.”
“I don’t want to eat it.”
“But I insist.”
It wouldn’t suit him for her to die yet. But he wasn’t above hurting her. At Rattray’s hard shove, the table slid away, and he opened the door. “Come and sit by the fire. It’s warmer there.”
“I am perfectly comfortable here.”
“Do as I say.” He growled and came over to lean threateningly over her.
Lucy decided she’d have a better chance of escaping from out there and rose from the bed. She followed him through the door and took a seat on the ghastly sofa.
“Ahh, that’s better.” Rattray moved one of the chairs to sit closer. “I like to see your pretty face.” He studied her while she stiffened with revulsion. “You’ve plaited your lovely hair. It’s an invitation for a man to unravel it.”
“Touch me, and I’ll scratch your eyes out.”
“My, my, such virulence. You’re a spirited miss. I like that about you. I’m not about to seduce you. Not in this dirty place. It will be somewhere much more to my liking.”
Her stomach turned over as she wondered where that was, and how long before they got there.
He rose and thrust a bun and a piece of cheese at her. “Eat.”
Not wishing to anger him further, she took a bite. The bread stuck in her throat, making her gag. She coughed.
