Page 54 of My Demanding Duke

“Cheapside,” Lewisham stuttered, as he realised that the cavalry would not come to save him. “He’s taken a room at a boarding house there—The Grand, I believe. He asked a few of us to join him at five o’clock for a lark of some sort.”

A lark? Disgusted, Hugh released the young man from his grip, shoving him so hard that he went careening back into the chaise, spilling brandy all over the rug.

“My apologies, you can send me the bill,” Hugh addressed his friend, as a dark stain spread across the pale carpet.

“I never liked it anyway,” Nate gave an amused grin, then his expression turned deadly. “Come, there’s no time to waste.”

He turned and Hugh followed him, desperately hoping that they would be in time to save Anna.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ANNA LAY ASstill as she could manage on the coarse straw mattress. Her wrists ached from the tightness of the ropes binding them, a gag cut into the corners of her mouth, though all this was tolerable when compared to the fear she felt. She tried not to think of what might come next when Gravesend returned. Lord only knew what the madman had planned for her.

Despite her current discomfort telling her otherwise, Anna still could not quite believe that Gravesend had kidnapped her. His note asking to meet at Green Park to discuss news of her father had seemed innocent enough. Perhaps, if she had not been so determined to be angry with her husband, she might have felt some vague suspicion when he insisted he needed to speak out of earshot of Josie. Gravesend had thusly manhandled her into a waiting carriage, even waving a pistol at her when she had put up a fight.

She now found herself tied like a hog and deposited in some cheap boarding house room in Cheapside, all because she had refused to believe that her husband wanted to protect her.

She scoffed inwardly at her own stupidity.Well done, Anna.

To quell her nerves she began to pray that someone—anyone—would find her, but she soon gave it up as a lost cause. The boarding house was far from respectable and she doubted that anyone within its walls might feel inclined toward saving her. The landlady had barely raised a brow when Gravesend had stumbled through the door reeking of brandy, dragging Anna in his wake like a sack of coal. Any woman with decency would have demanded an explanation. The proprietress had merely jerked her chin toward the stairs.

Perhaps Gravesend paid well. Or perhaps she had seen worse. She tried not to imagine what scenes the woman had seen that were worse than her current predicament.

Anna swallowed around the cloth in her mouth and tried not to weep.

She had been so determined to mistrust Hugh, yet now she could see how right he had been. Abouteverything, even the danger her father’s reckless behaviour posed to her. Though she still would not conceded that he had gone about marrying her the proper way. She might be tied up and potentially might be murdered, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he could even have made anattemptat courting her.

The door creaked open.

Gravesend entered with the swagger and scent of a man who had bathed in alcohol. His waistcoat was unbuttoned, and his cravat hung askew. Anna could not believe that she once thought the sweating lord a member of the Romantic set.

“Well,” he drawled, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, as if this were a lover’s tryst and not a grotesque parody of one. “You look positively tragic, Your Grace.”

Anna maintained a dignified silence, almost glad of the gag in her mouth. She could think of a few choice things she would like to say abouthisappearance.

He crossed the room in unsteady strides and leaned down to untie the gag.

“If you scream, I shall be most displeased,” he informed her as his fingers tugged at the knot.

Anna nodded, though the second the cloth fell from her lips, she drew a deep breath and let out a piercing shriek for help.

Gravesend reeled back, momentarily stunned, before lifting his arm to slap her sharply across the cheek. The sound cracked through the room like a rifle shot.

The pain was not hard enough to knock her senseless, but enough to sting, to humiliate. The shock of it silenced her far more effectively than the gag had. Any sense of bravado that Anna might have clung onto fled quickly; Gravesend truly meant to do her harm.

“You little bitch,” he hissed. “That was unwise.”

Anna tasted blood—her lip had split—but nevertheless she met his gaze.

“Why?” she gasped, wriggling at the rope that bound her wrists. “Why do this?”

Gravesend straightened and ran a hand through his hair, which had begun to curl with sweat.

“Why?” he repeated, as if surprised by the question. “Because your husband saw fit to tarnish my reputation. He humiliated me. He took away a lucrative source of income from me. We were not all born to inherit profitable estates like he. Now, Falconbridge will watch you fall, and be forever tormented by knowing your ruin is his fault.”

Anna blinked—what did he mean by watch her ruin?

“Hugh will never believe you,” she countered, surprised by the faith she felt for the husband she had just this morning disparaged.

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