Page 39 of A Duke in Pursuit of Passion
“My father.”
His response did not offer any kind of comfort to Ella. Whatever was in that letter, Ella felt as though it was weighing heavily upon her shoulders already.
The moment Nate ripped open the envelope and started to read, she felt her anxiety worsening. Somehow, the look on his face was making her feel worse and worse with every second, though it was clear he was trying not to give anything away.
“What is it?” she demanded when he had turned the letter over to read the other side. Hands tightened into fists, and stomach clenched, she felt as though she might be sick if she did not learn what news there was from home.
Why is there no letter for me?she thought, even as she grew certain that whatever was in Nate’s letter, it had far more to do with their situation than simple pleasantries.
“Ella, I think perhaps you ought to sit down,” Nate said, and immediately, she knew it couldn’t possibly be anything good.
“Is this something to do with Louisa? Why is there no letter for me on the matter?” Ella demanded, refusing to budge even an inch while he came to grip her arm as if he meant to take her back into the drawing room.
Ella tugged her arm free of his grip and shook her head. She insisted firmly, “Just tell me. What is it?”
“I suspect my father has written this letter because your parents are a little preoccupied with what is going on their end,” Nate said, his voice clipped as though it was taking everything he had in him to keep his voice level. “And I also suspect it was addressed to me because of the emotional nature of the letter.”
Ella was just seconds away from snatching the letter from his grip to read it for herself when Nate finally explained, “The kidnappers have made contact again.”
Ella’s knees grew weak at that, but she quickly clenched them in to keep herself on her feet. She would not take that seat, no matter what Nate had to tell her.
“What … what is it they have said?” she asked, the lump in her throat growing so large that she thought she might actually stop breathing. Her chest was beginning to hurt with the anxiety.
“They have set the ransom, and it is to be paid within the week, or they shall …” Nate paused and glanced down at the letter in his hand before he finished, “They shallhurtyour sister.”
The way he spoke suggested to Ella that it was far worse than that, that what they had really threatened was much worse than just hurting her, that her actual life might be in danger, and from the look in his eyes, she was certain of it.
“This cannot be happening,” Ella exclaimed, wishing she had taken the opportunity to have a seat when he offered it. She began to stumble backwards, and only Nate’s hand on her arm stopped her from falling immediately. Gently, he guided her down onto the steps at the bottom of the staircase, and she sat there with her head in her hands, trembling with the stress of all that was happening.
The tears came anew to her eyes, and she found she was unable to stop them from rolling down her cheeks. They cascaded off her chin and darkened the fabric of her green gown, the gown she had borrowed from Lady McGilligan.
As he set himself down on the step beside her and pulled her into his arms, Nate ordered, “Mack, write to my father and tell him to sit tight. Tell him we are close and no ransom should be paid. If it comes to it, I will pay the ransom myself, but until we are certain we cannot find her, I shall not have Ella’s parents part with a penny.”
“But what if we do not get the money together in time?” Ella gasped, raising her head to look at the nobleman.
He gripped her even tighter to him and shook his head. “You let me worry about that. We will find your sister before any harm can come to her.”
Chapter 24
Louisa had most definitely shot herself in the foot trying to escape. Since then, she had not been released from her bindings more than a handful of times to use the bucket, only having one hand unbound to allow her to eat her meals. Other than that, she found herself stuck in the chair they’d tied her to.
And she had lost track of the days she had been there, but it was pretty obvious her numb backside was trying to give her a few hints. It was becoming so painful that she tried to scream past the gag in her mouth several times to no avail.
The men made no secret of their conversations outside her door, and it became clearer and clearer to her why she was being kept there. They wanted money, money from her parents. She had heard them talking of a man back in Nottingham who had been discreetly sending their letters to her parents. More than that, she had heard that the very same man had been getting nothing in return.
Was her family so angry with her for running away that they did not care for her? Were they so concerned with the risk of scandal that they were unwilling to part with a single coin to see her safely returned? Had they even tried to find her?
All these questions were painful enough, but even worse were her thoughts of her sister and their last conversations. All she could remember was her sister’s determination to see her upset and lonely, her refusal to admit that any relationship could ever be made between her and her Joshua.
And now, she was right because Joshua had been unable to find her. She was trapped, lost in Scotland, with no soul for help, and for all she knew, Joshua was lying dead in some ditch somewhere.
The anxiety and stress of her situation were slowly getting to Louisa, and when her captors came one night to give her evening meal, she was barely conscious, her head lolling onto her shoulder with weakness.
“Wake up,My Lady,” one of them said mockingly as he slammed the tray on the table close to her.
Louisa jumped at the harsh sound and gritted her teeth against how it made her ears ring. Everything was sore, and all her senses were overextended after several days able to do nothing but listen for any clue as to what might become of her. Her head was pounding with dehydration and lack of food, never quite able to eat or drink enough on what little they did bring her.
She barely felt any relief when the captor released one hand for her to eat. She clenched and unclenched her hand, trying to get the blood to return to her fingertips, but that was all the relief she felt, and it quickly turned to more pain as pins and needles formed in her entire hand. A part of her wished they would keep her hands bound and stop feeding her. Maybe then she could fade into the blackness without any more suffering.
