Page 140 of If the Slipper Fits
He contemplated that—for about five seconds.
She wanted to make a point? Fine, he’d leave her in peace if that was what she truly wished. But she could bloody well tell him to his face.
The Black Swan’s proprietor had barely been persuaded to reveal Anna’s and Lady Wentworth’s chambers, even after Caden presented the latter’s hand written note. He suspected the man would outright refuse to unlock Anna’s door for him and risk the wrath of the dowager duchess.
However, convincing a chambermaid was right up his alley.
He strolled casually toward the chamber into which he’d witnessed a maid entering minutes ago. He pasted on his most debonair smile and rapped twice on the door jamb.
Minutes later he and the blushing maid approached Anna’s door, only to have it crash open.
Instead of Anna, he found an ashen-faced Lady Wentworth. She clung to the door like a lifeline and gazed up at Caden with terror-filled eyes.
A terrible sense of foreboding hit him like a punch to the gut. “Where’s Anna?” He demanded, not bothering with the niceties.
“Caden, thank God you’re here. They took her. You’ve got to get to them—before it’s too late.”
With a hell of a lot more calm than he felt, Caden extracted what information he could from Lady Wentworth and a handful of the hotel staff.
A chambermaid had delivered a breakfast cart, stolen from another maid whom she had incapacitated and left bound in an empty guest chamber. The food or tea had been laced with a sleeping agent. Lady Wentworth recalled feeling unaccountably woozy. She woke to find Anna gone.
It had to be Angelique behind the abduction.
Other servants witnessed an unknown chambermaid and a brawny looking man exiting the building, lugging a very heavy looking laundry cart onto a carriage. The servants claimed they believed the cart was filled with toxic items needing to be disposed of through burning, something which apparently happened on occasion.
Personally, Caden assumed the large man’s so-called menacing air lent itself to the pair departing unquestioned.
By Caden’s best guess, they left just prior to his arrival on scene.
“By God,” he muttered to himself. “I saw them. I saw them leaving.”
He’d ridden right past them when he turned onto the hotel’s access road. He’d been too caught up in his own worries to give more than a passing notice, but upon reflection, hadn’t he witnessed the oddity of an ancient carriage, its insignia covered by a black tarp, driven by, not a groom, but a beast of man dressed in servant’s garb?
“Which way did they go?” Lady Wentworth demanded, her frail hand grasping at his sleeve.
He had not seen the direction they turned. But he knew. They would be heading to Lord Bolton’s residence. It was the only place that made sense. Angelique and Lord Bolton intended to double cross Lady Wentworth.
If they hurt Anna, it would all be his fault. Him and his stupid, worthless pride. If only he’d told her how he felt. If only he begged her to stay and not to leave him. If he’d found a way to convince her, she would be safely ensconced in Chissington Hall at this very moment.
He met Lady Wentworth’s eyes, his insides hard as forged steel.
“They’re en route to London. They’ll be heading straight for Bolton’s place. Send word to Chissington Hall. Tell my brother to meet me at Lord Bolton's London address.”
It was time to go get his princess.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The poorly sprung carriage seemed to find every rut in the cobbled road. Whomever had bound her following her drug-induced slumber had strung her arms tightly behind her, and her shoulders screamed in protest as her body, perched atop the threadbare bench, jostled and lurched. She willed herself to ignore the pain, as well as the gun Angelique held loosely in her lap.
She had to think. Her grandmother’s life depended on her keeping her wits.
Angelique told her she’d left Lady Wentworth with Brutus. Anna was fairly certain the lady lied.
Doubtless, she did not have an unlimited number of male servants at her disposal whom she could drag with her across the countryside. Therefore, assuming she had only Brutus, he would have to be the man driving the team, wouldn’t he?
If so, she could cease worrying over her grandmotherfor now.
That left her tasked with disarming Angelique, removing herself from the moving carriage, and evading Brutus. She scoffed inwardly. Was that all? No matter. She had to try.
