Page 82 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
She didn’t know how long she was preoccupied by the sound. All she knew was that when she turned around, her two friends were far ahead. Abigail and Alexandra seemed to have met a few more ladies of the ton. They were laughing.
Gwendoline could only guess that they were laughing about having the same idea that night. All the young ladies wanted to escape the stuffy ballroom and the judgmental stares of the ton.
She turned left and right, suddenly wondering where Damian was. She couldn’t understand the sudden urge to find him.
That was when she heard a voice.Hisvoice.
“Oh, so where is your other half? How charming. Why did he let you out of his sight?”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Even before she turned around, she knew who was behind her. How could she not?
She slowly turned around, barely able to breathe past the dread clogging her throat. Timothy Landon emerged from theshadows, a smirk on his face. His dark coat blended with the night, with only a bit of moonlight illuminating his form. The light was enough to reveal his glittering eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, instinctively stepping back.
Her heart leaped in her throat, a heavy lump that seemed to expand as time went on.
It was only a few seconds. But with Timothy, they felt like more. It had always been more. Like an eternity of suffering.
“Where are the ledgers that you stole from me?” he asked, still smiling, but danger dripped from his voice.
He was not here to jest with her. It was a grave matter for him, and it looked like he was willing to hurt her. He had tried to hurt her before. Not once, but twice. It could be more, but perhaps she was fortunate enough not to have learned of any other attempts.
“I-I don’t know what you mean. I’m going back to the ballroom now. My husband must be looking for me.”
“Where are the ledgers? I am giving you one last chance to tell me so that nobody gets hurt.”
Again, there was that dull monotone, full of warning and dread even as he looked at her with a grin on his face.
Her blood ran cold.
“I don’t know,” she insisted, afraid that her voice would rise to a squeak. No matter what—no matter how afraid she was—she didn’t want him to hear the fear in her voice. To know that he still held some control over her life. “Whatever it is you think I have, I don’t.”
“Oh, but you do. I know you do. I am not certain how much you know about the information your dear husband has been collecting about me, but I know you know enough.”
“I think you need to stop this right now, Cousin. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her mind reeled. She looked left and right to check if anyone could see what was going on. Everyone was too far away to see or hear what they were talking about. Timothy’s eerie smile could be misconstrued as friendly from afar.
He stepped closer. She stepped back.
He took one step closer, and she stepped back again.
This time, her knees were shaking, although she had managed to keep herself upright. His figure loomed over her. It always had—something she had struggled to escape.
“Lying is beneath you, Gwendoline. You know that you’ll regret it if you don’t tell me. Haven’t you been in enough danger? How were the sweets? The mare?”
He was admitting to his treachery in front of her, but she would not have any evidence of their conversation. Her heart thundered against her ribcage.
Timothy meant to hurt her—and more.
“You’re evil,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “I’m evil? Do you know what you’re talking about?”
For a brief moment, his face almost looked pained. It made him look younger than his thirty-eight years. At that moment, Gwendoline almost felt sorry for him, remembering talk about how his father had been cruel to him—his second born.
But the pity turned into anger when she reminded herself that Timothy had taken her father’s title. He took her life. And because she was a woman, she wasn’t able to do anything about it.
