Page 3 of Rescuing a Tantalising Heiress
But it had been bolted from the outside, and her struggle was in vain. One of the men banged on the side of the compartment, and she heard Caesar yelp in pain.
“Be quiet in there,” he snarled.
“If you hurt my dog, I’ll—” Isabella called out, and the man banged on the side of the carriage once again.
“Keep quiet, and no harm need come to him. He can run off, for all we care,” he said, and Isabella fell silent.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she managed to get herself up onto the seat, sitting back and catching her breath. Her wrists were tightly bound, the cords cutting into her skin, but her legs and feet were free, and she felt for the ends of the cord, willing herself to find a way to untie her wrists.
Come on, Isabella. You’re not like those silly salon women. Enough tears and feeling sorry for yourself,she said to herself, for the shock of her kidnapping was now subsiding, replaced by a feeling of anger as to what these men had done.
Isabella could hear them talking outside the carriage. They were preparing to depart, muttering to one another about their expected reward.
“If she’s the daughter of a duke, we’re in line for a substantial reward,” one of them was saying.
“But I still don’t understand why he wants her. Is it because of the duke?” another asked.
Isabella listened to these words with interest. It seemed these men were hired bandits—they knew nothing of the reason for her kidnapping.
“Who knows. We’re not paid to know. Come on. It’s time to go. We’ll risk the road through the village, then make for the moorland. We’ll have our money by the morning and be on the way to London,” another said, and with that, the carriage set off into the night as Isabella awaited her fate.
Chapter 2
Thecarriage drove on for several hours. Drapes were pulled down across the windows, and Isabella had no sense of the direction in which they were travelling. The men rode on the buckboard, and she could hear them shouting to one another, buoyed up by the victory of their criminal venture.
From them, she learned she was not to be harmed, but delivered as requested to an unnamed man who had ordered the kidnapping. Isabella could only assume the man to be an enemy of her father, and she feared the discovery of his identity, knowing her father was disliked by many due to his forceful dealings in business.
If only he’d been a little kinder,she thought to herself as she tried for the umpteenth time to loosen the cords binding her wrists.
The wooden seats of the carriage were covered by plush cushions, but the edge was at an angle, and Isabella had found she could rub the cords back and forth, creating a slow movement in their cutting.
It was a laborious task, and she was making little progress. But her mind was focused and determined—no longer did she feel sorry for herself, but angry at the bandits, angry at their mysterious employer, and angry with herself for allowing such a fate to befall her.
But they’ll be looking for me now. All of them. My father’s bound to have returned, and if Caesar finds his way back to the house, they’re bound to know something’s happened,Isabella told herself, comforted by the thought of her father doing everything he could to find her.
Her father had enemies, and whilst kidnapping seemed an extreme form of revenge for a failed business dealing or underhanded exchange, it did not surprise Isabella to think someone had a vendetta against him.
Who it was, or what they would do to secure it, was to be revealed, and when the carriage came to a halt, Isabella was ready for a fight. She had not yet loosed the cords binding her wrists, but they had frayed sufficiently to allow her some movement in her hands, and as the carriage door was opened, Isabella was ready.
“Get out,” one of the men said.
It was still dark, and they had pulled up on a moorland, a lonely heath, the night sky lit with stars, the moon casting its silvery glow over the heather. Isabella got to her feet, swaying a little, still feeling dizzy, and yet determined to do something to escape.
Stooping, she emerged from the carriage onto the step. The other men were standing at the side of the track, one of them attempting to strike a tinder to light a clay pipe, the others passing around a bottle of liquor.
“Down from there. We’re to wait here now,” the man standing by the door said.
But as he reached out to grab her arm, Isabella lashed out. She caught him squarely in the stomach with her foot, winding him as he fell backwards. The other men turned, but as they did so, Isabella banged her foot against the carriage, startling the horses, who took off in fright. As the carriage lurched forward, Isabella fell back into the compartment, the door slamming behind her, as angry shouts could be heard from outside.
“They’re loose! Why weren’t you holding them, you fool?” one of the men cried out, and it seemed no one had been holding the horse’s reins as the carriage swerved back and forth, charging at a colossal speed in a direction Isabella could not discern.
She had been thrown to the floor of the compartment by the sudden movement of the carriage, and now she struggled to sit up, fearful the horses would charge off the track into the heathers or pull the carriage into a ditch.
What was I thinking?she thought to herself, even as the carriage showed no signs of stopping.
The horses were running, and a startled horse could run for miles in its flight. Isabella knew the men would give chase, but without horses of their own, the advantage was hers. She had been thrust from one danger to another, but she trusted the horses far more than the bandits, and as she tried desperately to hold on, the compartment jolting from side to side, she prayed she might be delivered from her calamity, willing the carriage to come to a halt.
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