Page 62 of Fit for a Duke
‘You are talking in riddles again,’ Clio replied impatiently, ‘and I am not nearly clever enough to understand you, so I shall not attempt it. Where is your Lady Walder? I have hardly seen her or Salford this afternoon.’
‘She is not mine and I venture to suggest that they have gone off somewhere together.’
‘Well then, either they intend to do away with you between them or they are not the ones trying to kill you.’
Ezra tilted his head and grinned. ‘Very astute.’
‘I am at my wits’ end attempting to keep you alive and all you can do is laugh at me!’ she cried.
‘Go and join your aunt, my sweet. If anyone does attempt to kill me—’
‘You are making it very easy for them by wandering about away from the rest of the party,’ she scolded.
‘That is rather the point. But don’t worry, we are not alone.’
‘Very reassuring.’
‘I am almost certain that we will be able to foil any attack, but just in case we do not, I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.’
She could see from the dark intensity of his gaze that his concern was entirely for her. Her heart melted and she stopped fighting the attraction, admitting to herself that she was violently in love with this noble if annoyingly dictatorial aristocrat. One-sided love affairs were destined to fail, obviously, and Clio’s pride would ensure that she took her secret to her grave. Not even Adele would wheedle it out of her.
A loud peal of laughter came from the area where the games were taking place. Lord Fryer grinned good-naturedly as he shook water from his hair. Clearly, the apple bobbing had defeated him.
‘Go and join them,’ Ezra said, making shooing motions with his hands. ‘I will be there myself directly.’
‘Very well, but take care. Your mother will not survive the loss of another child.’
‘Glad to know that you have my mother’s interests at heart,’ he replied in an amused tone.
‘What other reason could I possibly have to care about your survival?’ Clio asked, sauntering away.
Feeling uneasy about the situation but having no choice but to leave Ezra to present himself as a target, Clio joined the others clustered around the apple bobbing but couldn’t get into the spirit of things. Her cousins were both taken up with their escorts, there was no sign of the duchess or of her carriage either and Clio supposed she had taken the opportunity to call upon Lord Brennan. She genuinely hoped that the unhappy lady was enjoying a few hours of pleasure.
A loud clap of thunder directly overhead elicited a collective groan. The first heavy raindrops fell without warning, soaking through delicate muslins and straw bonnets. There was an unseemly scramble to reach the carriages, where hoods were being hastily put up by a squadron of grooms.
Clio looked for Ezra, who had been accosted by Lady Walder. Salford was not with her, which caused Clio to wonder. Had Lady Walder distracted Ezra to prevent him from returning to his horse, thereby giving Salford an ideal opportunity to fire a deadly shot while pandemonium reigned? No one would hear a pistol being discharged above the noise of the storm. But then again, being killed by a pistol could not be written off as an accident and all hell would break loose in pursuit of the perpetrator. If Ezra was right then the assassin had gone to considerable lengths to make his previous handiwork appear accidental and had thus far avoided detection as a consequence.
Feeling a little reassured on that score, Clio was still very suspicious of Lady Walder and didn’t like the thought of her clinging to Ezra. Even so, there was nothing she could do to separate them. He would not thank her for her intervention, so she would be better advised to consider how best to get back to the house. Hopefully there would be seats in other carriages for her and Adele, given that the duchess was still absent.
She glared one last time at Ezra, doing her damnedest to communicate her fears to him, but he didn’t once look in her direction and continued a heated discussion with Lady Walder instead. Now soaked to the skin, Clio fervently hoped that Mr Godfrey and whoever else Ezra had posted would be keeping him in their sights. There was nothing more that she could do to help him and if she lingered, then she could well distract him, with deadly consequences. The best, indeed the only thing she could do now to help him was to return to the house and wait to hear that he had also got back unharmed.
The wait would, she knew, be long and anxious.
Not paying attention to her footing, she slipped on a muddy patch and a strong arm grabbed her around the waist to prevent her from taking a tumble. Before she could thank her saviour, a sack was pulled over her head. Fear swept through her. This couldn’t be right. No one had any reason to abduct her. It had to be a silly joke. Despite the storm, everyone seemed to be in high spirits still. This was just an extension of the games. Someone was getting their revenge because she’d refused to bob for apples, claiming that she feared for her bonnet.
A bonnet that must have fallen from her head when the man grabbed her, she assumed, since her hair was now falling over her face and tickling her nose beneath the horrible sacking.
Clio’s mind cleared and she knew it was no joke. No gentleman would manhandle a single lady, or any lady at all, in such a brutish and familiar fashion. Fear and desperation lent her superhuman strength and she kicked wildly at her abductor’s shins. He responded with a string of oaths as he tightened his hold on her.
‘Stop struggling,’ he said gruffly, ‘or it will be the worse for you.’
Clio never had been good at obeying orders and kicked backwards, trying her damnedest to make contact with the man’s genitals. He groaned and momentarily released his hold on her, implying that she had found her target. Clio screamed at the top of her voice and tried to run. But her voice was drowned out by thunder as it cracked directly above their heads. The man again caught her and delivered a swift clout to the side of her head. Clio saw stars as pain shot through her temple and the fight drained out of her. She was vaguely aware of being swept from the ground and thrown over a shoulder.
That was all she recalled before she lost consciousness.
Chapter Seventeen
Ezra was grateful when the storm broke. Lady Walder had latched onto him but would now have to run for the cover of the carriages or risk a soaking. He was also well aware that in all the confusion it would be the perfect time for the assassin to strike. Merlin stood close at his heels, growling and cowering simultaneously, frightened of the storm but still determined to protect Ezra. In that regard, he didn’t seem too impressed by Lady Walder and his growls were directed towards her, albeit from behind the protection of Ezra’s legs.
