Page 77 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

“How do you know that?” Percival asked, surprised. “I came here looking for her. How do you know that she had been taken?”

“I saw it myself,” Diana said, her voice strangely steady now as she straightened to her full height. “I was close to your manor when it happened. I had hoped to visit her to inform her of my engagement to Owen,” she added in a rush.

“Owen? Wasn’t he Louisa’s previous suitor?” Duncan asked, perplexed. “Do not tell me he has decided to jump from sister to sister. It has not been that long since his courtship with Louisa was canceled.”

“It is nothing like that, I assure you. We are in love with each other. This last month since Lou left afforded us a lot of time to meet whenever I went for walks. We talked, and I realized that he was a fine gentleman who was probably vilified because he was taken at face value,” Diana said defensively.

That had just eliminated one of the suspects. If Lord Pemberton was busy trying to woo Diana, then he was less likely to kidnap his ex-fiancée, especially when she was the sister of his new flame.

The match between the fiery Diana and the rather tepid Viscount was quite unlikely, in Percival’s opinion, since they were direct opposites. But then opposites have been known to attract—probably for novelty and curiosity’s sake.

Later, they might explore the motivation behind this match, but right now, they had more important matters at hand.

“Anyway, that’s not the main issue,” Diana continued, echoing his thoughts. “I went to Lou to tell her the news when I saw a plain hackney behind your manor and two burly men dragging her out of the house and throwing her into the vehicle. She was so still,” she said, her voice cracking. “I guess they must have drugged her to keep her docile. After forcing her into the hackney, they got in and drove off swiftly.”

“Did you see their faces?” Percival asked, eager hope in his voice.

“No,” Diana replied with a shake of her head, pity flickering in her eyes when Percy deflated in disappointment. “They were masked, and they were too far away for me to make out their features. Thankfully, they did not see me. I was able to follow them discretely, thanks to Felix, the family driver—he was excellent. We followed them into the woods where they are holding her.”

She stopped to catch her breath, exhaling through her mouth.

“Where?” Percival asked, his voice hard.

He was already walking towards his horse, forcing Diana to run back down the stairs and follow him.

“There is an abandoned cottage in the woods, south of your estate. I guessed it was probably used by game hunters during hunting season. They are holding her there.”

“Take me there,” Percival said, already mounting his horse.

Whoever it was that had kidnapped Louisa, he planned to torture him in a thousand unimaginable ways. He was going to kill him, and he would do it as slowly and as painfully as he could, just as soon as he found his wife and confirmed her safety.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Louisa had often been at the receiving end of people’s malice. The moment she got injured and became scarred as a consequence, she had a first-hand experience of just how malicious people could be.

Members of the ton who had hated her and thought her a snub had relished the opportunity to sneer at her under the guise of sympathizing with her, so much so that she was almost consumed by the thought that she might have become worthless, since her only asset—which, in their opinion, was her beauty—had been taken away from her, reducing her chances of making a good match.

She thanked the good Lord that she had her family’s support in those moments. Her mother had wrapped her in her arms while she wept, on those nights when their barbs had hit vulnerable places in her heart. Her family had helped her heal and come back stronger, allowing her to ignore people while consoling herself with the thought that they just needed her as a scapegoatto take out the pain and hatred that was eating them from the inside out.

That much was true because she had come to realize that most members of the ton carried terrible wounds that were invisible to the eye. They hid them behind heavily powdered faces and fans, and most of them had taken up malicious gossip as some kind of entertainment to fill the gaping holes in their souls. Of course, it did not justify their cruelty, but it helped her not to take their barbs to heart.

The thought that she also had her family to welcome her after such exhausting encounters helped her stand strong in the face of their malice.

When she agreed to marry Percival, she understood that the marriage would be one of convenience, but she had at least hoped deep in her heart to gain a new family.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that one day, she would be betrayed by a relation. She had heard tales of some ladies of the ton being kidnapped by bounders in retaliation for crimes—real or imaginary—that were committed against them by their victims’ spouses. But then even those crimes were hardly committed by close relatives and friends, so her confusion and denial were valid when she realized that her captor’s voice was familiar.

Too familiar for comfort.

No, it cannot be.

“I am afraid it is true, Your Grace,” the familiar voice replied as if reading her thoughts, his tone brimming with smug amusement. “Are you surprised?” he asked, walking to the window and slowly raising the shutter until sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating his features and confirming her suspicions.

His tall frame leaned carelessly against the wall beside the window, the sunlight glinting off his pale skin so he looked even paler. Those familiar grey eyes smiled back at her, glinting with dark amusement. But they were also shadowed and swollen, as if he had gone several nights without sleep, and she swore she could smell the alcohol on his breath even from where she was.

The Baron of Gillingham, why?

“But then I guess you should not be, especially considering what you have done.”

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