“Easier, Uncle?”
“Oh, yes. At first, I thought the easiest thing would be for you to marry Godfrey, but once I had a chance to reflect on it, I realized it’s far better this way.” Uncle Jarvis picked a bit of lint off the sleeve of his coat. “Why should I settle for the paltry ten thousand Godfrey was going to give me when I can have the whole lot?”
Have the whole lot?
He meant her fortune, of course. Uncle Jarvis would hardly exert himself to a kidnapping for anything less than the entire sixty thousand pounds.
Lucy waited in silence. Her uncle was in a chatty mood, so she’d let him talk.
“Itisgratifying when things work out, isn’t it, Lucinda? I confess I wasn’t sure they would until I saw you emerge from the Swan and Anchor this morning. It all fell into place after that.”
Lucy remembered his arm pressing into her throat, and then…nothing. Not for a while. By the time she came back to herself, they’d left London behind.
“Laudanum’s a fine thing, isn’t it? I never thought I’d see the day when your aunt would prove useful, but here we are.”
Lucy ran her tongue over her dry lips. He’d forced her to drink from a brown bottle several times over the past few hours. She’d obligingly feigned a collapse each time, but thanks to Dr. Digby’s Calming Tonic, she’d remained awake and alert for most of the drive. She shuddered, thinking how much worse off she’d be now if he’d really given her laudanum.
Unfortunately, consciousness hadn’t done her much good. She hadn’t gleaned any information aside from a general impression they were moving south. “Where are we?” Lucy’s voice was so hoarse she hardly recognized it as her own.
She didn’t expect him to tell her, but to her surprise, he answered readily. “In Kent, near Maidstone. Nice county, Kent. Lovely countryside. I think you’ll like it here, Lucinda.”
A rough laugh scraped over Lucy’s abused throat. “I don’t intend to stay, Uncle.”
“But you won’t have a choice, my dear. I’m afraid Dr. Willis will insist on it. I’ve been writing to him for weeks now, since I learned of your troubling behavior in Brighton. He’s heard your entire sad history.”
His smile made the hair on Lucy’s neck rise.
“Madness so often runs in families, doesn’t it?” Uncle Jarvis went on in a low, satisfied purr. “Such a pity the daughter should suffer from her father’s illness, but hardly a surprise, really.”
Madness…
Lucy went still, her blood turning to ice in her veins. She could only stare at him, frozen with horror. He was taking her to a madhouse, leaving her there so he could retain control over her fortune. Lucy’s throat worked, but she was so shocked at his perfidy she couldn’t produce a sound.
From the first moment she’d met her Uncle Jarvis she’d known he wasn’t a good man, but this…this was far, far beyond any line she’d ever imagined he’d cross. To lock her away, knowing full well she was perfectly sane—dear God, she could hardly credit such treachery.
“There’s a flaw in your plan, uncle.” It was an effort to keep her voice steady and meet her uncle’s eyes, but Lucy managed it. “Rather a fatal flaw, I’m afraid.”
He shifted his weight, settling himself more comfortably against the squabs. He looked as if he were enjoying himself. “Is there, indeed? What’s that?”
“I’m not mad.”
He waved a desultory hand. “That’s neither here nor there.”
“I’m afraid it is. You need two doctors to testify I suffer from madness before you can have me committed.” Lucy had made it her business to discover all there was to know about madhouses and commitment, given her father’s situation.
If Uncle Jarvis had relied on her ignorance, he’d made a mistake.
But any hope Lucy might have had vanished when she saw the smirk on his face. “No need to fear, my dear. Dr. Willis is prepared to declare your wits well addled, and I’ve no doubt his colleagues will follow suit. In his last letter he expressed himself very concerned about your sanity, and urged me to bring you to him as soon as the thing could be managed.”
Lucy didn’t move or answer. She kept still, waiting, but desperation was clawing at her, its talons growing sharper with every word out of her uncle’s mouth.
He leaned across the carriage and fixed his cold blue eyes on her face. “He could hardly think otherwise, could he? You see, Lucinda, I felt it my duty to explain your recent erratic behavior to him, in some detail.”
“I don’t…” Lucy swallowed. “What e-erratic behavior?”
He shrugged, but those hard eyes were gleaming with satisfaction. “That business in Brighton, sneaking onto the beach every morning at dawn. The fainting fits at balls—half of London witnessed those. Your unreasonable aversion to Lord Godfrey.”
Lucy pressed a hand to her mouth. Every pitch and lurch of the wheels over the rough roads made her stomach twist with nausea.
