Page 51 of The Iron Duke's Flaming Christmas
His face tightened. “As I said, the duke and I go back a long way,” he replied, his eyes hard. “I once loved his late wife, Mary. I wanted to make her mine. But alas, she chose him and then he killed her through neglect. He let her ride in a carriage when she was heavy with child.”
Selene gaped at him. “He didn’t kill her! She died in childbirth, which is risky for any woman! How can you hold such a grudge against him after all this time?”
“Because I despise him,” he said, a look of hatred crossing his features. “He took what was rightfully mine and then didn’t take care of her, killing her in the process.” He paused. “And once you are permanently gone, and Lady Gwen marries him, I will enact my revenge completely, for I have Gwen twisted around my little finger, you see. She thinks I love her.” He looked scornful, giving an incredulous bark of laughter.
“We are going to bleed the duke dry of his money,” he continued, in a casual voice, “which I need quite badly, due to a few bad investments, here and there.” He paused, glaring at her. “But I will fetch a pretty price for you, Miss Bomind, which will help fill the empty coffers, as well. Skin as dazzlingly white as yours is much coveted in Arabia, you know.”
A wave of pure fear swept over Selene. “What…?”
He smiled. “Yes, you are going on a very large ship. In fact, it will be docking in a day or so. As soon as I get word that the Santa Maria is here, you will be on it.” His smile widened. “Say goodbye to your life in England, Miss Bomind. You are bound for a much fairer climate.”
***
Ian paced outside the front door, glancing at his pocket watch. They were late—he had told Selene to be back by noon and it was already one o’ clock.
He tensed, seeing the carriage rattling through the gates at last. It drew alongside him. He was just about to rush forward, to give Selene a tongue lashing for her tardiness, when Mrs. Kittles came tumbling out, running toward him, her eyes wide with distress. In the background, he saw that Lenore’s face was streaked with tears.
There was no sign of Selene.
“What the deuce is the matter, Mrs. Kittles?” he demanded, fear gripping him like a vice. “Where is Miss Bomind?”
“Oh, Your Grace,” cried the housekeeper. “She has been abducted! She went to the post office by herself, and she never came back.” She drew an agitated breath. “A man saw her being dragged into a carriage by a man. We informed the constabulary, who are searching for her as we speak. That is why we are so late. It took us so long to even discover what had happened to her, and then I had to speak to the authorities at length.”
Ian’s heart froze with horror. His mind started spinning frantically.
She is gone. Someone abducted her. But why? Who would do such a terrible thing?
“Papa!” Lenore was scrambling out of the carriage, running to him, wrapping her arms around his legs, gazing up at him with wild eyes. “Someone took Miss Bomind!”
“Yes,” said Ian, still in shock, putting a hand on her head, caressing her hair automatically. “But why…?”
“I heard Lady Gwen talking with a gentleman on the grounds while I was out bird watching,” cried Lenore, gazing up at him imploringly. “They did not see me. They were standing close together. I heard the gentleman telling Lady Gwen that he would get rid of the governess, to leave it to him.”
“What?” Ian stared down at her in horror and confusion. He crouched down in front of her, gazing into her face. “Tell me exactly what that gentleman said, Lenore. It is extremely important.”
Lenore looked scared, swallowing hard, but nodded. “He said, ‘Do not worry, I will get rid of the governess, and she will never be coming back to Trenton House.’” Lenore gulped. “He said, ‘Leave it to me.’”
Ian swore beneath his breath. “What did this gentleman look like, Lenore? Describe him to me.”
Lenore frowned, thinking deeply. Ian held his breath, gazing at Mrs. Kittles, who was as white as a sheet.
“He was tall,” replied Lenore, her eyes as wide as saucers. “And thin. He had fair hair and brown skin, like had had been in the sun a long time.” She hesitated, squinting, as she tried to remember. “And he had a scar above one eyebrow, Papa.”
Ian gasped, gripping her tighter. His heart gave a sickening lurch. He knew a gentleman with a scar above his eyebrow. And that gentleman was tall and thin, with fair hair, and tanned skin from being abroad for a long time.
“A scar? Can you describe it to me?” He tried to keep his voice calm, so as not to alarm his daughter. “You are doing so well, Lenore.”
Lenore frowned, taking a deep breath. “It was shaped like the moon when it is not full, Papa. When it is half its size.”
Ian’s heart tightened. Lenore had just described the Marquess of Eaton. A gentleman who despised him, and had recently confronted him at the Winter ball, claiming that he was responsible for Mary’s death. A gentleman who he now knew had once been in love with his late wife.
And this gentleman was so intimate with Lady Gwen that he had been walking the grounds with her, talking about getting rid of the governess.
His heart filled with a rage so intense it was as if a red mist descended over his eyes. Desperately, he fought it. He needed to stay calm and focused and think clearly if he was going to find Selene.
“Thank you, Lenore,” he said grimly, standing up, his heart racing. “You have been a great help.” He turned to the housekeeper. “Take Lenore to the kitchen for hot chocolate and cake, Mrs. Kittles. Make sure she is comforted. She has had a great shock.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” said the housekeeper, putting an arm around Lenore’s shoulders, leading her away.
