The idea ofthatdiscussion made her want to dive into the bed and pull the coverlet over her head. But she was no coward. As soon as he returned she’d say what she had to say, and pray he’d listen to her this time.
If he everdidreturn. Why hadn’t he returned?
He’d said he’d be back soon. In Lucy’s opinion “soon” meant in less than half an hour. She wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been gone, but it had been long enough for her to bathe, drink a cup of tea, take a few nibbles of toast and dress herself.
Lucy paced around the room for a while, then forced herself to resume her seat in the chair. He’d promised he’d return soon, and she trusted him. For once in her life she was going to do just as she’d been told, and wait patiently.
Five minutes passed, then another five, then Lucy was up from her chair again, pacing from one end of the room to the other. Perhaps she’d just slip out—just for a tiny moment, mind you—just to see if any of the servants happened to know where Ciaran had gone. She wouldn’t venture beyond the hallway outside the bedchamber.
Except there wasn’t anyone in the hallway. It was deserted. She’d dismissed the maid Ciaran had sent to attend her, and the girl had promptly vanished.
Very well, then. She’d go just to the top of the staircase. No farther than that. Someone must be stirring on the floor below. She’d call to them, ask her question, then return to her room at once.
But when she got to the top of the stairs, she didn’t see anyone below. There was no sign of either Ciaran or Lord Vale anywhere.
Well, there was no help for it, then. She hurried back to her bedchamber, snatched up her cloak, and ran back into the hallway. She didn’t intend to go far, of course—no, indeed—but if Lord Vale was still here his carriage would be in the drive. It wouldn’t do any harm to creep down to the ground floor and have a peek outside the window.
Right, then. She’d just tiptoe down another flight of stairs, and have a bit of a look around the innyard. It wouldn’t do to venture any further than that, though. She’d promised Ciaran she’d stay—
“Begging yer pardon, miss.” The maid who’d attended her earlier was coming up the stairs.
Lucy paused on the landing. “Yes?”
“I’ve a message fer ye.”
At last, a word from Ciaran! “Yes? What is it?”
“A lady who says as she’s your cousin is in the yard in her carriage, waiting to speak to you. She says it’s important, like, and ye must come at once.”
Lucy’s heart dropped right into her stomach.
What was Eloisa doing outside the Swan and Anchor in Uncle Jarvis’s carriage? ? It didn’t make sense. How had Eloisa managed to escape Portman Square, and with the carriage, no less? It would have taken a near-miraculous stroke of luck. Uncle Jarvis would never have permitted her to leave the house.
Had something happened to her uncle then, or God forbid, her aunt? Had something happened with Lord Vale? Lucy had hoped Eloisa and Lord Vale would have peacefully concluded their tumultuous courtship with a happy betrothal by now, but perhaps they’d quarreled and Eloisa had followed Lord Vale here.
One thing was certain. If Eloisa was here, then something must be wrong. All at once Ciaran’s prolonged absence took on a more sinister cast. Ciaran was missing, and Lord Vale with him, and Eloisa had suddenly appeared at the Swan and Anchor.…
Lucy gathered her skirts, flew past the maid and down the stairs to the front door, her heart racing. As soon as she stepped outside, she saw it. Her uncle’s carriage, and perched on the box, her uncle’s coachman. She hurried down the steps and without any hesitation darted across the yard.
She was out of breath by the time she reached the carriage. She snatched the door open without a second thought, and—
“Oh!” Lucy let out a faint cry as someone inside the carriage grabbed her arm in a merciless grip and hauled her roughly into it with one vicious tug.
It wasn’t Eloisa.
Lucy scrambled instinctively for the door, ready to leap out and fly back across the yard, but before she could so much as twitch a heavy arm wrapped around her neck, and a low, threatening voice muttered in her ear. “Not happy to see me, niece? I’m certainly happy to see you.”
Lucy’s blood went cold.
No. It couldn’t be her Uncle Jarvis. He hadn’t any idea where she was, and no reason at all to look for herhere, of all places. He couldn’t have found her. No, it couldn’t be him. This couldn’t be happening—
“What a pity you’re not pleased to be back in my company. I’m afraid you’ve no choice but to tolerate me, however, because we’re going on a bit of a journey together, you and I.”
A panicked gasp left Lucy’s lips and she struggled in earnest to get loose. She clawed at the arm pressed to her neck, her fingers digging into flesh until she felt a smear of blood against her fingertips. Uncle Jarvis dropped his arm, cursing, and for one breathless moment, she was free. She kicked out wildly and made another leap for the door. She managed to tear it open, but by then carriage was already moving.
Her uncle had her now, and he had no intention of letting her go. “No, no. Can’t have that, can we? You could get hurt.” He reached across her and slammed the carriage door closed. He wrapped his arm around her throat again, pressing hard enough to make it difficult for her to breathe. He shoved his hand over her face, pressed his palm against her nose and held it there until her head began to go fuzzy.
Lucy opened her mouth with a gasp, desperate for air, but as she sucked in a breath she felt something cold against her lips. She instinctively jerked her face away, but her uncle grabbed her hair with his other hand and held her still. “Open your mouth, damn you.”
