Page 4 of A Captain For Clarissa
Panic tightened Edward’s throat. Desperately, he searched for some way to mollify the dangerous man standing before him - and then an idea came, so repulsive it made him feel physically ill even to contemplate. But if it would save him…
“Perhaps there is another way,” he said hesitantly, forcing himself to meet the moneylender’s eye. “Lady Clarissa is the daughter of a wealthy earl, and her sister is married to a duke. If something were to happen to her…” He swallowed hard. “She might be worth more in ransom than in dowry.”
He could hardly believe what he’d just suggested, but it seemed to have the desired effect. The moneylender’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment Edward dared to hope his desperate gambit might work.
“Go on,” the man said, a dark gleam in his eye.
“Her family would pay anything to see her safely returned,” Edward said, although his voice was barely above a whisper. “And if you were to deliver her…”
His implication hung in the air between them. The moneylender was silent, his eyes fixed intently on Edward’s face.
A trickle of cold sweat ran down Edward’s spine as he awaited the Greek moneylender’s decision. The air felt heavy, pregnant with a sense of impending doom.
“Is she pretty?” the moneylender asked at last, breaking the tension.
“Wh-what?” Edward stammered, caught off guard by the question.
“Lady Clarissa,” the man said impatiently. “The English girl you are putting forward as collateral. Is she pretty?”
Baffled, Edward hesitated. Why did it matter whether Clarissa was attractive or not? But he dared not refuse to answer. “Yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “She is.”
“Good.” The moneylender smiled, a chilling expression that sent a shiver down Edward’s spine. “Then I find your offer acceptable. But remember this, Mr Dalton,” he leaned in close, his breath hot on Edward’s ear, “if you betray me, you will live to regret it.”
With that dire warning, he turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Edward to bear alone the weight of his terrible choice. He felt as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, legs shaking and ready to collapse beneath him. What had he done? Desperate to avoid bankruptcy, he had delivered Clarissa - sweet, innocent Clarissa, who trusted him implicitly - into the hands of an unscrupulous stranger.
Sinking down onto a nearby bench, Edward buried his head in his hands. The cold stone seeped through his britches, but he barely noticed. Wrapping his arms around himself, he tried to still the shivers that ran through his body. It felt as though the darkness that had swallowed the moneylender was closing in on him now, drowning him in guilt and despair.
“God help me,” he whispered brokenly. “What have I done?”
The full enormity of what he had just done crashed over him, and Edward doubled up, wrapping his arms around his ribs as fear gripped his heart. He had delivered Clarissa into the hands of the unscrupulous moneylender, ruined her reputation, almost certainly condemned her to death... all to save himself from financial ruin. And now, there was no going back. The decision was made, and all Edward could do now was wait for the consequences to play out.
It was the middle of the night, the hotel cloaked in heavy silence. Flickering light from the lantern cast eerie shadows on the walls as the Greek moneylender led a party of men through the darkened hallways. With every step they took, their looming presence grew more threatening, like a noose tightening around the necks of the unsuspecting guests slumbering behind closed doors.
When they reached Clarissa’s door, the moneylender withdrew a key, the metal catching the lantern light. Inserting it into thelock, he turned it with a soft click that echoed in the quiet hallway. Slowly, carefully, he pushed the door inwards, and his men slipped inside, silent as shadows.
Clarissa lay sound asleep in her bed, unbound curls framing her face. Her breaths were slow and even, her dreams undisturbed by the menace creeping ever nearer.
She came awake suddenly, starting up in bed as rough hands grabbed her, a cloth covering her mouth before she could scream. Her eyes went wide with terror as her heart raced, and she struggled against her captors. Their grip was strong, though, and within moments she was bound hand and foot and deposited in a sack like so much livestock.
“Let me go!” she cried, but her voice was muffled by the thick fabric. She kicked out, trying to scream again, but the ropes around her wrists and ankles held her fast.
Her cries for help went unheeded as one of the men slung her over his shoulder and carried her outside. The cool night air made her shiver, but it wasn’t just from the cold: she was terrified. Whatever was happening, her life had been turned upside down in an instant.
As they moved away from the house, Clarissa tried to make sense of what was happening, her thoughts racing. How had they gotten into her room? Who were these men, and what did they want with her? But the biggest question of all was: What was going to happen to her now?
As scared as she was, Clarissa knew she couldn’t let herself give in to despair. If she gave up, she would be lost; the only chance she had was to keep her wits about her and to watch for an opportunity to escape. If she could get free, she’d be able to find help and get back to safety.
“Think, Clarissa, think,” she whispered to herself, the words inaudible over the men’s footsteps and heavy breathing. “You need to figure out a way to get out of this.”
It seemed impossible, of course, but she had to consider her options. However long the odds, she refused to accept that there was no hope.
They’re not Greek, she suddenly realised as the men spoke to each other. She had lived in Athens long enough to recognise the language, even if she didn’t understand much of it. These men were speaking a different tongue, though, and while she couldn’t identify it, she was certain it wasn’t Greek.
The sound underfoot changed from boots on stone to boots on wood, and the man carrying her stopped. Clarissa thrashed against him, and received a hard hand against her leg for her trouble, making her cry out in pain. An angry voice shouted something at her, the words unintelligible but their meaning clear.
Clarissa’s heart pounded as the voice continued angrily. She had no idea what was coming next, but she knew it wouldn’t be good. She tried to look around, but the thick fabric of the sack over her head blocked out all light, leaving her in complete darkness.
Suddenly she was tossed onto a hard surface. A moment later, the sack was pulled from her head, and she found herself blinking against dim lamplight. After a few seconds she was able to see properly.
