Page 97 of Leap of Faith
“Are you ready, my dear?” Lady Westwood asked as she entered the parlour Faith shared with her sisters.
“I believe so,” Faith answered. Lady Westwood was insisting on a grand trousseau, and they were going to make fabric selections from one of the silk warehouses.
It felt very unnatural to have such a fuss made over her, but she tried to assure herself that once the wedding was over, there would be less.
The one thing she had not counted on without the necessity of being guarded every moment was seeing less of Lord Westwood than before. It seemed she was always being called away for meetings with regard to the wedding that she had little opinion about. If she were not busy, then Westwood was occupied with estate matters or some such. At least she would be able to see him that evening at their betrothal dinner.
In all honesty, she reflected with irony, had it not been for Sir Julian’s wager and then Joy’s injury, Faith might not have had the opportunity for the closeness with Lord Westwood that had brought about this betrothal.
However, Faith was still nervous to go out without one of the gentlemen’s escort, but she knew there was no longer reason for her concern. Still, she could not stop the eerie feeling that came over her as they rode to the silk warehouse. It was as though she were being watched or that something was amiss. Perhaps she was still oversensitive from all that had happened. When they arrived, the feeling passed, and Faith resolved to humour Lady Westwood to pass the time until she could see her betrothed that evening.
* * *
“Now,my friends, the lure has been cast,” Julian said, as he sent the letter off to be delivered to Westwood House. “Tonight, my revenge will be complete. Everyone remembers their role?”
“Yes, sir,” the group of reprobates he’d hired answered. They loved nothing more than the prospect of kidnapping and killing someone for money.
That, with a loyal friend or two, and it would be enough to deal with the wily Viscount Westwood, especially when he’d be taken unawares. Nothing dulled a man’s brains like being in love. Julian shuddered at the thought, then smiled wickedly as he realized victory was within his grasp because of it.
His original plan had not been to kill Westwood, only humiliate him by forcing him into marriage, but then he had decided to interfere and try to ruin Julian before the wager was complete. Now Julian was left running from creditors. It was not to be borne and Westwood must suffer.
“Take your places and be ready. Watch both entrances to the house and have a signal to the others, whichever door he leaves by. My carriage will be waiting for you at the end of the alley to bring him to me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do not fail, and you will be well rewarded.”
His ruffians left, and Julian grimaced with repulsion. Abhorrent though they may be, they were a necessary evil to achieve his ends.
* * *
“A letter for you, my lord,”Satterlee said, entering Dominic’s study.
He looked up from where he sat reviewing reports at his desk and accepted the letter, which bore no familiar markings or script.
Satterlee left, and Dominic slid his finger under the seal and opened it. He glanced at the signature and realized he’d never before seen Faith’s handwriting.
My lord,
If it is not too great an imposition, could you please come early to Westwood House so that I may have a few moments of your time? Perhaps at six o’clock?
Your affectionate,
Faith Whitford
Dominic smiledand checked the clock. He just had time to dress himself and purchase Faith a betrothal gift along the way. Several matters of business concerning his Cumberland estate had occupied his time since their return to London, and he had been remiss in choosing a gift.
Dressed in a navy blue coat, a silver embroidered waistcoat, and grey breeches, he went downstairs, pleased with the idea of spending some time alone with his betrothed. He had not intended to abandon her as soon as they had returned to Town, but fully intended to take her away again as soon as the nuptials were over.
After placing his beaver hat upon his head, he took his walking stick and left by the back door, deciding to walk to the shop to buy the gift instead of taking his carriage.
He closed the garden gate and had walked but five steps when he realized that something was wrong.
He was instantly surrounded by men in dark clothing with their faces covered and hats pulled low. The tell-tale feeling of a steel barrel was thrust into his back.
“If you cooperate, my lor’, this will go easier fer you.”
Dominic was many things, but stupid was not one of them. If he fought, he was vastly outnumbered and with only the sword inside his walking stick as a weapon. If he cooperated, it would buy him more time to come up with a plan for escape.
