Page 32 of The Rakehell's Seduction
Please let him hear me and wake before Lord Darlington does.He had whispered to her after dinner that he would wait up for her, but neither of them truly thought meeting up would be possible with so many companions traveling with them. But she couldn’t deny her desires and her insatiable hunger to be with Ambrose, even if it meant risking so much. She rapped her knuckles a second time and smiled as the door opened. Then when the dim light of the wall sconces lit the face of the person who answered, she froze in shock.
Lord Darlington stood there, completely dressed, his cool blue eyes taking in her state of undress, and then he had the audacity to smile.
“I daresay you were expecting Ambrose, but I will have to disappoint you, darling.” He moved fast—too fast. Suddenly she was dragged inside the room and tossed onto the bed nearest the door.
“What are you—” She struggled as Darlington tackled her, a coil of rope in his hands. Alex bit, clawed, and kicked as he forced a cloth into her mouth, silencing her cries. But he was too strong. Several minutes later, her body was exhausted, her every muscle weak, and her breath harsh in the quiet room. Her hands and feet were bound, and a handkerchief had been shoved into her mouth too deep for her to spit out. She lay on her side facing Ambrose, who had slept through the fight in the bed against the wall. He lay fully dressed, on his stomach, out cold. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away. He didn’t wake to save her.
Darlington came over to stand in her line of sight. “He can’t help you. I drugged his evening brandy. He won’t wake until after dawn.” He came toward her, and when he moved to lift her into his arms, she flinched. Darlington scowled.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I know you have no reason to trust me, but on my honor I will not.” He then lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. His shoulder rammed into her stomach, making her sick, but she could only make muffled cries for help. He left the room and moved down the stairs into the dark common room of the inn. Alex tried to think. What was he planning to do with her if he didn’t wish to hurt her?
The door to the outside opened, and he carried her into the darkness. Then she heard a voice.
“You’re packed and ready, my lord,” the gruff voice said.
Alex tried to kick out and make Darlington drop her, but he kept a firm hold on her legs and carried her into a coach. She was placed on the seat, and the doors were shut as he joined her, holding tight to her as he tapped on the ceiling of the coach with a cane. The coach jolted forward, and only when they reached decent traveling speed did he let go of her. She slunk far away in the corner, her body tensed, ready to fight should he try to force himself on her. He moved to sit across from her and then leaned forward and removed the gag from her mouth.
“Don’t even think of crying out for help. The driver is aware of your situation, and I paid him a handsome sum to keep quiet. No one will hear you since we are far enough away from the inn.”
His words sent shivers of dread through her.
“Lord Darlington, why are you doing this?” she asked, amazed that her voice wasn’t tremulous. It was as though everything else inside her was shaking.
He sighed and looked out of the coach window, pushing the curtains back to watch the moonlight upon the surrounding fields.
“It is not personal, Lady Alexandra. You’ve become the subject of a wager, and I dearly need to win.”
The wager. Ambrose was right to have been concerned. Maybe Darlington would tell her the details that Ambrose would not.
“What wager?” she asked. “You say it’s not personal, but you kidnapped me. I deserve to know the truth.”
He glanced her way, a rueful smile upon his lips. “I suppose that is true enough.” He let the curtain fall back into place. Only a small shaft of light illuminated his beautiful but cold features. More than ever, she missed Ambrose, his rakish smiles and boyish charm, yet he was just as masculine as Darlington. The difference was warmth. Ambrose was like a roaring fire on a winter’s night. Darlington was a cold breeze beneath a beautiful tapestry.
“Someone put your name down in a betting book at White’s.”
“What are the terms?” She sat up straight, resting her bound wrists in her lap and squaring her shoulders.
“You really wish to know?”
She nodded. “I have to.”
He leaned forward then, bracing his arms on his knees. “The man who successfully and publicly ruins you will receive five thousand pounds.”
So much? The amount was staggering. A well-heeled gentleman of thetontended to receive ten thousand a year in annual income. She couldn’t imagine anyone paying half that simply to ruin her.
“What did the wager require specifically when it said public ruination?” she asked.
“At least three or four gentlemen who could be trusted to speak the truth of what they saw would need to see you in a physically compromising position with a man. Such as being in a man’s townhouse in your dressing gown, or even better would be in a man’s bed.”
Alex swallowed hard at the thought of any man aside from Ambrose seeing her unclothed in a bed. Her stomach gave a violent pitch at the thought of what was to come with Darlington. She tried to regain control and focus on what she needed to know, which was who wanted to do her such a great harm.
“Who would do that?” She racked her mind trying to think of any gentleman who would dare to want to harm her like that.
“His name is Gerald Langley. Do you know him?”
“I’ve heard it somewhere, but I cannot recall…” The name seemed to dance at the edge of her mind. “And he mentioned me specifically in the wager?”
“Yes, and the requirement was that it be public. It seems he has a great desire to destroy your reputation.”
