Page 89 of Never Beguile a Duke
Mr. Curtis must think I’m engaged to Mr. Hollingsworth.
“The Duke of Roxburghe.”
Worse, he believed her to be Nora! What would he do when he discovered he’d abducted the wrong sister?
Grunting, Mr. Curtis righted Winifred and the chair. “Unless your engagement is a sham meant to fool your mother. In which case, I’ll be forced to exact the debt from your flesh.”
“The engagement is not false.” Her voice trembled, belying her bravado.
“For your sake, I hope you’ve spoken the truth.” Mr. Curtis touched a finger to the tip of her nose. “Fifty thousand pounds is quite the sum to repay with blood.”
A shudder zipped down Winifred’s spine. “Why are you doing this? My family has done nothing to you.”
“True.” Mr. Curtis paused as though considering her words. “However, your family is connected to a man who did wrong me.”
“Mr. Hollingsworth is not attached to our family!” Winifred jerked, causing the chair to slide forward an inch. “His offer of marriage was refused.”
“His second offer, if I’m not mistaken.” Mr. Curtis’ reply came from the opposite side of the room. “The first proposal resulted in the imprisonment of your sister.”
“We didn’t know the type of man he was.”
“Your mother did.” A low chuckle crawled toward Winifred. “She orchestrated the whole event.”
“And you punished her for those actions.” Winifred licked her lips. “However, I’m certain that you know she survived the attack.”
“It wasn’t my intention to kill your mother,” Mr. Curtis replied, his voice moving along the far wall. “Had that been my aim, I wouldn’t have allowed her to reach the Duke of Beaufort’s residence.”
“Then, what was the purpose?” Winifred asked, turning her head toward where she imagined he stood.
“To show your fiancé what I’m prepared to do to receive the money I’m owed.”
“That money should come from Mr. Hollingsworth.”
“Yes,” Mr. Curtis dragged out the word. “It should. However, he provided an alternate solution when I called upon him after his release from prison… the Duke of Roxburghe.”
“Mr. Hollingsworth knew of your plan and pretended as though he was unaware of the impending danger?” Winifred screeched, her voice echoing through the chamber.
“Isn’t it fortunate that your sister refused him?” Mr. Curtis laughed as he approached. “Imagine her response when she discovered that he’d arranged your kidnapping.”
I’m going to kill him.
She wasn’t given to murderous tendencies, refusing to even swat at a horse fly, but this seemed the perfect moment to rethink those nonviolent principles.
“Mr. Hollingsworth should be concerned about what the Duke of Roxburghe will do.” Winifred paused. “As should you.”
Mr. Curtis grabbed Winifred’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, pinching the skin. “Your fiancé has until midday tomorrow to deliver fifty thousand pounds, or I will send your dead body to the Duke of Beaufort’s residence.”
“Where are my shoes?” Winifred jerked her head free of his grip.
“I just threatened your life, and you’re asking for footwear.” Disbelief flowed from Mr. Curtis.
“My feet are cold.”
“And they’ll stay that way.” His voice came from the far side of the room again. “Without shoes, escaping will be quite difficult considering the frigid temperatures outside.”
The floor creaked, followed by the dull thud of shoes descending a staircase, and she blurted out, “What assurances can you give that you communicated your demand to the Duke of Roxburghe?”
“Pardon?” Mr. Curtis stalked back up the steps.
