Page 83 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
Her face hardened, and the villainy in Timothy’s eyes returned.
“Yes, you. You now have everything my family had, and you are still not content. You just had to?—”
She didn’t get to finish what she wanted to say, for he lunged at her. The wind was knocked out of her at a shocking speed. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. She whimpered.
He leaned closer to her ear and turned her left. “Do you see what I see, Gwendoline?”
Gwendoline saw Damian by the window. He was talking to some of his friends. Her chest tightened at the implication that Timothy knew precisely where he was at that moment. She knew her cousin was issuing a warning, and he meant it.
“W-What’s going on?’ she asked, although she knew it.
She knew what Timothy was trying to tell her, but her whole being rebelled against it. How could a man become so evil?
“I know where your dear husband is. It is apparent. We are looking at him, Gwendoline. We are looking at the man who somehow took in someone like you. What did he see in you?”
She tried not to sob. Timothy knew how to hurt her physically. However, he had started with this—bitter jabs at her appearance even as he pawed at her in the end.
“That man doesn’t love you. He is all for appearances. After I spread the word of your wickedness, he is bent on proving to everyone that you are his truly. It’s all for show, Gwendoline. After he has me locked up, do you think he will still want you?” he continued, his breath hot on her ear.
“I have no illusions of fairytales,” she retorted. “However, he cares for me enough, and he is an honorable man. Certainly not like you. I’ve heard about the things you’ve done.”
“Oh? Did you? The things I’ve done, and I’d do? Do you see how close we are right now, almost in an embrace—albeit a tight one? But the ton doesn’t know that, do they?”
“I don’t care much for gossip. You’ve already tainted my name several times, Timothy.” Gwendoline somehow meant every word.
“You don’t care much for gossip, but I have a man in there looking the part. He can do so much damage. Perhaps shoot Greyvale or maim him. Poison him, maybe? He has been sampling his favorite foods, and we know what they are. Remember that I knew him before you’d even heard of him.”
Gwendoline’s heart rate quickened again, her panic rising. She tried not to give in, remembering how Damian had taught her to defend herself. To fight. It wasn’t much, but it should work.
She inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her lips. She pushed all thoughts out of her mind. Then, summoning her courage, she shifted her weight and drove her elbow into her captor’s ribs with all the strength she could muster.
Timothy let out a grunt, loosening his grip a little—and for a fraction of a second. But Gwendoline didn’t need much. She used that second to twist free and face him. Her chest hurt from panting, but she was prepared to fight.
However, he chose that moment to pull out a pistol. Gwendoline gasped. However, he didn’t aim it at her. Instead, he aimed it at the window where Damian still stood, laughing.
“Scream if you want to, Gwendoline. Damn it. You can even scream louder. I will give you a reason to.”
“Put that pistol down,” she begged. “You don’t have to do this, Timothy.”
“Then give me the location of the papers. Now, Gwendoline.”
There was no smile on his face now.
Gwendoline’s mind raced. Was there any way she could get away with withholding information? Her eyes flicked back to her cousin. No. Evil had overtaken him. He wouldn’t let her get away with anything.
So, she told him. She told him even though it broke her heart.
She and Damian had worked together to secure those documents. She thought of the night after they had found them. It had felt too easy, as if they were waiting to be collected. Something must go wrong after, and now it did.
“Ah, you’re more useful than I thought, Cousin,” Timothy said with sheer self-satisfaction before he swung his pistol and everything turned black.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“She’s awake,” someone said, the voice so muffled as if she was underwater.
Damp grass. Buzzing sounds. No, they were not insects. She was hearing people murmuring above her. Above her? What?
She groaned as her hand instinctively reached for her forehead. She felt a bump there. Touching it elicited more pain than she had anticipated. The back of her head and the rest of her body also ached. It was like she had gotten into some kind of accident.
