Page 94 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
By ten o’clock, Harriet was dearly worried. Something was wrong—she could feel in her soul. Nevertheless, Harriet decided to wait another hour, feeling that the day was turning out to be the longest of her life. When eleven o’clock came, she stood, donned her coat and asked the proprietress if there were local hackneys around.
The lady offered to send for one, and after another grueling fifteen-minute wait, boarded the hackney and gave him Daniel’s address.
Rushing to the door, she knocked and soon was taken in. The look on the footman’s face made her feel ill. “Is Daniel here?”
“No, Miss Bradford,” he said. “His Lordship’s coach was disabled last night on the road coming from Spitalfields. His coachman was killed, and he was taken.”
Harriet’s knees gave way under her and the man grabbed her before she hit the ground. The footman helped her to a chair in the next room and Harriet caged her face with her hands. Her mind felt scattered to the four corners of the world and horror turned her stomach bitter.
“Have…” she swallowed over bile, “have the constables been notified?”
“This morning, yes, Miss,” the man nodded. “They think it’s a case of mugging gone wrong.”
“If they had come to steal, they would have left him be,” Harriet said weakly. “No one would have taken him. If they come back here, I think I know who to tell them to look into.”
“You might have to wait a while, Miss,” the footman said. “If you need, a maid will assist you.”
Left to worry, Harriet began to debate with herself in sending for her brother but knew she could not stay there alone. She was not going home to Carrington Manor, as there was another problem she could not face yet, and even if Ben tried to force her, she would not go.
Retreating into the room, she asked a maid for tea and prepared herself to tell the constable about Dawson. Thirty-three minutes to the time she had sent for Ben, he came charging into the house, his face set with anger.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he declared. “I am taking you back to Canterbury.”
“I am not going,” Harriet said. Annoyance flashed in her gaze as she lifted her chin high. “The love of my life has been taken and I am not moving an inch until he’s found.”
“Harriet—”
“No, Ben!” she snapped. “I am staying right here until we find Daniel.”
He raked his hand through his hair, “Why did you leave the Manor in the dead of night? We came to look for you but neither you nor Raster were here.”
“That’s because he went to arrange for our wedding,” Harriet said, ignoring Ben’s cry of outrage. “Carrington found that it was Dawson who was behind my embarrassment, and now, he’s missing. I suspect he is the one who took Daniel.”
“You’d get married behind our backs?” Ben demanded.
“Yes,” Harriet said ruefully. “I know it’s not ideal, Ben, but I love him. Our relationship might have started in an unconventional way, but it grew into something more. Why would you deny me the only man I love because others frown up it? If you were in my position, would you refuse yourself the lady you love for the sake of other’s opinions?”
Ben’s lips flattened, as he stared at her, “I still have my misgivings, but we’ll sort that out after we get Raster back. So, you say, Dawson might be behind this?”
* * *
The sharp scent of salt, the putrid garbage and a dull throbbing in his temple were what woke Daniel. He suspected that he was near the sea, but the ground under him was not moving, so he realized that he wasn’t on a ship. Lifting his head, he blinked at the dimness from shuttered windows, and glanced around the wide space of an empty warehouse.
He was near a wall, but could feel he was tied to a rusty iron spit when he tried to move his hands. When he looked closely, he could see the dust laying on the ground and the cobwebs in the corners.
Undeterred, he tried to work his wrists so he could work the rope against the iron but with how awkwardly he was seated, he soon felt his arms tiring, but he kept at it. He had to get back to Harriet and not bungle this latest marriage attempt.
She has gone through enough.
“You’ll break your arm if you keep at it,” Carrington’s smug voice cut through his thoughts. The Baron came closer, then crouched and grabbed Daniel’s hair to crane his head up, “You are not worthy of her.”
Gritting his teeth, Daniel snarled, “When I get free, there is no part of this land you can hide where I won’t find you.”
“Carrington laughed maliciously, “You think you’re leaving here alive? You are a poor, deluded fool.”
Incensed, Daniel spat back, “She told me what you did; you adulterous by-blow. How could you seduce her in her bed, in the same house your wife lives in? She is your wife’ssister!”
The fist connected solidly with Daniel’s jaw, snapping his head to the side just before Carrington’s hand circled his throat in a suffocating grip, cutting off his air and lifting him an inch above the ground.
