Page 84 of From Duke Till Dawn
Her escort was even more brutal in his grip than Lacey. Surely he’d leave bruises on her skin—if she survived long enough. He pulled her behind him as he took the steps down to the run-down stage, and several times she nearly fell. Her ankle still hurt, making the going difficult.
Finally, they reached what remained of the stage. The wooden floorboards had partially rotted away, leaving a yawning hole in the middle. It was too dark to see how deep the hole was, or what lay at the bottom. They took up a position on one side of the chasm.
Night settled thickly, along with an uncanny silence that came from being in a ruin.
She could try breaking free and running, taking her chance that Lacey might miss if he shot at her, and also risking falling into the void in the middle of the stage. With Cassandra’s hands tied behind her, her balance was off, and she didn’t trust being able to make sense of this place in the dark.
But was it better than meekly waiting for Alex to come to her aid?
A blade pressed against the side of her neck.
“They said you might run,” the man holding her growled. “You so much as wink and I’ll give you gills.”
She gulped. “Staying right here.”
If she kicked him maybe... But she’d still have to contend with the man from Bond Street, and Lacey’s pistol. There was no choice but for her to wait and to hope. Would Alex come? Or was this to be the last night of her life?
Chapter 18
For what felt like hours, nothing happened. Cassandra’s heart shriveled and withered within her. She struggled against the tears that threatened to spill.
He’s not coming.
Death by drowning in a filthy river awaited her. She didn’t know how to swim. Maybe she could catch a piece of debris and float to safety. Resting her hopes on that remote possibility was all she had. Otherwise, it meant giving in to despair.
She’d started down a path long ago that led her here, to an anonymous, forgotten demise, mourned by nobody, leaving nothing of herself in the world but bitter memories.
This is it. The bad end I always knew was my fate.
She straightened, tilting up her chin. If she had to meet death, she’d do so with as much bravery as she could cobble together. It would be her only, fleeting legacy.
“Time to go,” the hired muscle said flatly.
A sound rose up, faint but steady. It grew louder as something—someone—approached. Footsteps. Steady and rapid, they came nearer with the tread of a good-sized man. Whoever it was moved quickly and directly toward where Cassandra and her escort waited.
Her heart climbed up and up, choking her.
Alex appeared at the other side of the stage. It was too dark to see him clearly, but she recognized the width and set of his shoulders, his long legs, and the power and gravity radiating out of him. Relief struck her like a hammer, robbing her of breath.
She fought to keep from shouting out, the knife at her throat a reminder to keep still.
“Cassandra!” He took a step toward her, then stopped at the edge of the hole in the stage. He started to move around it.
“Easy...” She swallowed. “They’re out there. With a gun.”
“Button it,” her guard snapped.
Alex glanced toward the back of the amphitheater. “Show yourselves.”
“I’m no fool, Your Grace.” Lacey’s voice rang across the rows that once held seats. “Give my man the blunt, and you get the gel.”
Alex reached into his coat and produced a thick wad of cash. He held it up above his head so that it could be clearly seen.
There it was. The price of her life. And he carried it in his hands.
“Place it on the ground,” Lacey instructed him, “then back up. Slowly.”
Cassandra could imagine how irritating it had to be for Alex to follow someone’s commands. Yet he did as he was instructed, setting the money on the floorboards and taking three paces backward.
