Page 117 of Three Weeks with a Princess
A large black carriage blocked their way. Two big men—hulkingmight be a better description—lounged against the wheels, both smoking pipes. They affected a casual stance, but their caps were pushed low over their faces and they radiated a strange air of menace. One of them looked up to meet Lia’s gaze with a hard stare before knocking his pipe against the wheel of the carriage and shoving it in his pocket. The other man straightened as well, his attention focused on them.
Lia pulled Amy to a halt. “We’d best go back to the theater.”
The dancer gave a tense nod and they reversed their steps, only to immediately hear the pounding of heavy footsteps behind them. Not looking back, they picked up their skirts and ran.
They almost made it. Amy had reached the set of stairs at the back of the theater and Lia was just behind her when she felt the rush of movement and a long, burly arm wrapped around her waist. She let out a shriek and started to kick like mad, flailing her arms in a futile attempt to break free. The man ripped off her bonnet and dug his fingers into her topknot, then yanked her head back so hard it felt as if her neck was going to snap.
Amy launched herself back down the steps. “Leave her alone, you brute!”
She started pummeling Lia’s captor but was snatched up by the second thug. He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her right off her feet. Amy clawed at his hands, her eyes wide with panic. He plowed a fist into her chin and her eyes rolled back as she collapsed onto the stairs.
“No,” Lia gasped out. Fear and rage lent her strength and she slammed her bootheel into her captor’s shin. He let out a vile curse and she felt his grasp start to slip. But when she tried to wriggle free, he tightened his grip and pulled her around to face him.
She stared into his flat, pockmarked features. His breath, hot and smelling of sour beer, made her gorge rise in her throat.
“Help,” she cried out. She thrashed and managed another strangled shriek, trying to make as much noise as she could.
“Shut up, you silly bitch,” the man said in a cold, calm voice. He gave her a vicious slap, so hard that stars burst across her vision. A rank-smelling hood came down over her head, enveloping her in blackness. Lia was barely able to suck in a breath before he lifted her and threw her over his shoulder, knocking the wind from her lungs.
Struggling to breathe, her hold on consciousness slid away.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lia jerked as the hood was yanked from her head. Blinking frantically, she struggled to focus against the harsh glare of a nearby lamp. Although she’d been hazy for a few minutes, thanks to the nasty blow to her face, she guessed that only a short time had passed since their abduction. Thrown onto the floor of the carriage, she’d huddled against Amy and done her best to fight a choking sense of terror.
At one point she’d nudged her hood up to take in her surroundings, only to earn another slap to the back of her head. After that—and after her ears stopped ringing—she simply listened, straining for clues to their route. Unfortunately, the rumble of the carriage wheels on the cobblestones blunted her hearing.
Their captors had remained silent for the entire ride. Amy had put on a good show of defiance, but that had simply resulted in a kick to her ribs. After that, they’d both held their tongues, even when the men dragged them from the carriage and hauled them to this room.
Her blurred vision finally resolved into hard reality. She and Amy were seated side by side on rickety chairs in some sort of parlor. The furnishings were shabby but respectable enough, and the woman sitting across from Lia was dressed rather like a housekeeper in a neat gray gown and a lace cap. But most housekeepers didn’t sport blazing red, elaborately curled hair and heavily rouged cheeks. Nor did they usually participate in kidnappings.
Lia’s temper flared when the woman smirked at her. “I don’t know who you are, but I demand that you release us this—”
Amy’s shocked exclamation cut her off. “Bloody hell. It’shim, Miss Lia. He’s done it, the bastard.”
Lia’s stomach lurched when she saw who stood on the other side of the room, casually leaning against the doorframe and looking as natty as if he were about to attend a ball. Clamping down hard, she forced back a sickening wave of fear. “Sir Nathan, are you responsible for this outrage?”
The baronet laughed. “Of course I am, you ninny. Although I must admit I didn’t expect to catch you in my net. My darling little Amy was the target. But when I saw you in the alley . . . well, how could I resist?”
“And a fine catch they are, my lord,” said the woman sitting across from them. “My gentlemen are always looking for something new, even if these dainty morsels are soiled doves.”
Prudhoe pointed at Lia. “I would imagine this one is barely touched, even though her mother is one of the greatest whores in London.”
Lia bolted out of her chair. “You listen to me, you degenerate—”
A large hand slammed her back down on the seat, almost toppling her. After she righted herself, she glanced over her shoulder. She’d been so surprised to see Prudhoe that she’d failed to notice one of their abductors standing behind them. The brute gave her a taunting grin, as if daring her to make another move. His expression made it abundantly clear he would relish the opportunity to hurt her again.
She subsided, trying to think through her terror and rage. They’d almost made it inside the theater, so perhaps Sammy had noticed the commotion and gone outside to check. It was a faint hope, but the only one she had.
“No point in struggling, love,” said the woman. “We don’t want to have to damage the goods.” Then she glanced at the baronet. “Are you saying this one is a virgin?”
He shrugged. “I think it’s quite probable, although one can never be entirely sure until one checks for oneself.”
“You leave her alone,” Amy cried. “She don’t deserve any of this.”
Prudhoe pushed away from the door and strolled over to the dancer. She shrank against the back of her chair but maintained her defiant gaze as he took her chin in his hand.
“She deserves exactly what she’s going to get, as do you,” he said. “Thanks to you and Miss Kincaid’s friends, I’m all but ruined. I’ll have my revenge for that.” He let out an ugly laugh. “And some welcome compensation. Double, now, don’t you think, Mrs. Grace?”
