Page 50 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke
‘Is anything wrong, Lady Thea?’That was Lord Porchester, and she realised that she must have been sitting staring at the note for at least a minute.
‘Wrong?Oh, no, my lord.Simply a reminder about something.But I really must go and find Mama in case she is ready to leave.Thank you for your company, and I very much enjoyed your observations on the works of art.’
That provoked a grin from him, which she was tempted to return, despite her preoccupation.His comments had been informed, but sometimes really quite wicked.
Thea waited until he had bowed and vanished back into the crowd, then rose and made her way to the entrance to the wing on the left side.It looked almost deserted, perhaps because it was now in shade and looked rather chilly and uninviting.
Thea trod down the steps and began to weave her way through the palms and statues, meeting no one.It was certainlya good choice for a private conversation, she thought, trying to ignore the butterflies flapping in her stomach.
There were double doors at the far end and still no sign of Hal.Surely he did not want to talk to her in the garden.It was far too damp and chilly to be standing around without outer garments.
She had almost reached the doors, noticing a last small sitting area to her right, when there was a rustle of foliage behind her.
Hal, at last.
Thea had just time to half turn towards the noise when a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm came around her, pulling her hard against a male body, and she was hustled through the outer doors that were being held open, she could have sworn, by Helena Linton.
But it was only a fleeting impression because she was too busy fighting whoever held her.She tried to bite the palm pressed against her lips, but it was held too tight.She kicked and stamped, but her thin kid indoor shoes made no impression.
Then a hand cuffed her hard against the side of her head, and as she was reeling, trying to keep her balance, the hand was replaced by a cloth gag, some kind of hood was pulled over her head, something—a cloak?—was swirled around her and strong arms scooped her up.
‘Keep still or I’ll hit you harder next time,’ a voice she had never heard before growled in her ear, and she stopped kicking.This was terrifying, but the idea of being unconscious in this man’s power was even worse.
Thea made herself go limp and heavy, as though she had fainted, and tried to work out where they were, where they were going.There was a sound like a heavy gate closing,then the smell of horses penetrated the hood.Had she been taken out of a rear entrance into the mews?
Then there was the unmistakeable sound of carriage wheels and hooves on stone and she was lifted up and deposited on what must be a carriage seat.Thea sat up, scrambled as best she could towards where the other door must be, and was caught around the waist, hauled back and slammed down on the seat again.
The carriage lurched into motion as a big hand lifted her skirts.Thea bucked frantically, but the man moved no higher than her ankles, tying them together with something that felt like cloth.A handkerchief, perhaps.
Then he scrabbled the cloak apart, found her hands and tied those, finally shoving her back on the seat.‘Stay there and stay quiet, if you know what’s best for you.’
Thea realised that she had missed her chance to tell which way they had turned out of the mews.Now she was lost as the carriage wove its way through the streets of London.
It was definitely a carriage, not a cart or a wagon, because what she was lying on was well-sprung.Thea forced herself to think.She had been snatched from an exclusive address in fashionable London in broad daylight.She was travelling in a gentleman’s conveyance, not a hackney carriage.And there had been that glimpse of a woman holding the conservatory doors open, possibly—probably—Helena Linton.
What was this?It was too extreme for a spiteful prank.Tales of innocent young women snatched off the street and sold into brothels came back to make her feel sick with apprehension.Could that really happen?Would anyone dare do that to the daughter of the Earl of Wiveton?
Whatever awaited her at the end of this jolting, blind journey,she had to be prepared to act, to seize every chance of escape.Now there was nothing she could do, and she was not even sure how many people were in the carriage with her.
Thea made herself go limp, lie still, listen for any clue as to who had taken her and where she was going.There was no one to help her; nobody would even know yet that she was missing.It was down to her to save herself.
* * *
‘Good afternoon, Lady Wiveton,’ Hal said and noticed the widening of the Countess’s eyes as she saw him.‘Is Lady Thea present this afternoon?’
‘Why, yes, certainly.I saw her with Lord Porchester, perhaps half an hour ago.’
‘Ah, I must have missed her.I will hope to encounter her later.’He smiled and moved on, scanning the heads in the crowded space.Thea was tall enough, and her hair striking enough, for him to see her if she was standing.But there were a lot of seats, of course.
He thought he had looked everywhere in the upper room, but he began to check again.Perhaps she had gone down into one of the garden wings, although one now looked decidedly uninviting in deep shadow.
Something stirred uneasily inside him.Nerves at attempting to find the words to rebuild the friendship that had been between them, and make it strong enough for Thea to allow him to court her—or apprehension about where she was?
But surely, a young lady was perfectly safe in the home of a dowager duchess, surrounded by most of thehaut ton?
He saw Porchester, deep in conversation with an older man, and strolled towards them, was recognised and exchanged a few banalities before saying, ‘I wonder if I could have a word with you, Porchester?’
The other man drifted off to join another group and Porchester was left eying Hal warily.‘Yes?’
