Beatrix had never been so terrified in her life.
Silenced, first with a hand over her mouth, and then a rag of some kind.
Her hands bound.
Before she was thrown over the shoulder of one of her assailants.
She did not need to be able to see to know she was then carried away from Shaftesbury House and bundled onto the floor of a carriage, before being driven off into the night.
All of it done without a word having been spoken by any of Beatrix’s kidnappers, to each other or to her. As well as terrified, she was astounded at the audacity of their having so blatantly removed her from the terrace of a much respected member of Society.
Her disappearance would not go unnoticed for long, she felt sure. But the kidnapping had been done so stealthily that, despite the snow, she doubted either her brother or any of his friends would know in which direction to look for her. Instead, they would be forced to wait to receive a ransom demand from her kidnappers.
What of James?
Would he be worried and upset when he learned of her disappearance?
Of course he would, if for no other reason than she was the sister of one of his closest friends.
To expect him to feel anything more would be unreasonable after the way Beatrix had refused his marriage proposal and then shunned him at every opportunity since her arrival in London.
Tears cascaded hotly down her cheeks inside the hood at the thought of perhaps never seeing James again. Of never having the chance to tell him how much she did truly love him.
She knew from stories she had read in the newspapers that when people were kidnapped, in London or anywhere else, they were more often than not found dead. That sometimes they had even been killed before the ransom money was demanded or paid.
James was a prime example of that, in that ten years ago he had been set upon by a group of thugs after visiting his London tailor. Believing him dead, his attackers had thrown him into the river. It had been pure chance that he had been rescued by three young Cockneys before he drowned.
The fact Beatrix was still alive now perhaps boded well for her own continuing good health.
She certainly hoped so.
She made a promise to herself that if she returned from this terrifying ordeal, she would give up this ridiculous game and tell James how she truly felt about him.
If she returned…
In the meantime, she had to do everything she could to divert her kidnappers from the idea of killing her.
James’s groom steered the carriage assuredly through the quiet London streets to their destination.
It was much later than James had anticipated. Beatrix’s disappearance had been discovered far more quickly than he would have liked and before he’d had opportunity to take his leave. Because of that, he had been forced to be a part of the search for her.
Winter had been furious, the ladies upset, and the gentlemen baffled—except Blackborne—as to why someone should have even thought of intruding into Shaftesbury’s garden in the random hope of finding someone they might kidnap. The consensus finally agreed that perhaps burglary had been the initial intention, but finding Beatrix alone outside on the balcony had been too tempting to resist.
James had received a piercing glance from Blackborne after a search of the grounds revealed three sets of man-size footprints in the snow leading into the garden and then out again onto the main road. The indentations of carriage wheels showed Beatrix must have been removed in that manner. The duke had not spoken his words of accusation out loud, but before James left he had reminded the older man he was at liberty to voice his suspicions, and also James’s assurances Beatrix would come to no harm to her brother.
It had never been James’s intention to worry or upset anyone. But neither could he continue to be the rejected lover waiting upon Beatrix’s whim.
By the end of tonight, their situation would be settled, one way or the other.
There were only two ways that could happen.
Beatrix would agree to become his wife.
Or James would remove himself from her life forever.
Beatrix blinked rapidly as, the hood having been removed, she was able to see her kidnappers for the first time in the glow of the candlelight supplied by an ornate three-pronged silver candelabra. No doubt, judging by the men’s appearance, it was a stolen candelabra.
There were three of them, their hair overlong and all of them dressed in the same ragged clothes she had seen on the many street urchins since coming to London.
Except these men were much older than that, possibly her own age of six and twenty. Nor did they appear as dirty on the face and hands as the other street people she had seen. On closer inspection, their clothes, although old and torn, also looked relatively clean.
“Do I know you?” she voiced slowly.
“I some’ow dowts it, me lady,” the red-haired one answered her derisively.
Her chin lifted. “My brother, Lord Benedict Winter, will pay whatever ransom you demand.”
“Ain’t asked ’im fa one.”
She swallowed. “Then what are you going to do with me?”
He grinned. “That’s up ta the boss ta decide.” From the way the other two grinned their approval, it seemed obvious he was their leader and spokesperson.
Beatrix frowned. “And when are you expecting this…boss to arrive?”
“When ’e gets ’ere,” came the unhelpful reply.
She looked at their surroundings. As far as she could see, from the extent of the candles’ glow, they were in what appeared to be an abandoned store that had once sold ladies’, or possibly gentlemen’s, apparel and accessories. There were several broken stands lying on the dust-covered floor, with more in the alcove windows that had probably once been used to display hats and gloves. Blinds were pulled down over those windows so that anyone walking by outside wouldn’t be able to see in.
Her gaze returned to her kidnappers. “Would you mind untying my wrists? The ties are cutting into my skin.”
“Are ya gonna try ta run if’n we do?” the redhead prompted.
“Honestly? In all probability, yes,” Beatrix answered with a grimace once he’d nodded.
He grinned, revealing several gaps in what were otherwise white teeth. “I likes ya,” he approved.
“Under different circumstances, I might like you too,” she allowed. None of these men looked fierce or dangerous or as if they wished to kill her. “Will your boss be arriving tonight?”
He tilted his head as if listening. “I fink I ’ear his carriage owtside now. Time fa ya to be blindfold agen.”
Beatrix barely had time to let out a squeak of protest before the gag that had been about her mouth was now placed over her eyes. She didn’t like having once again been plunged into darkness, but at least she wasn’t completely enshrouded in the black hood this time.
She heard the bell ring over the front door of the abandoned shop, as indication someone else had entered. There was the sound of a whispered conversation, and she thought she might have overheard the name Billy, followed by the sound of the door opening and then closing again.
Leaving Beatrix in the tense and silent darkness. “Is there anyone there?”
Surely they hadn’t just left her here? There might be mice or worse, rats, living in the derelict building. If they were hungry enough, they might even try to eat her whilst she was still alive. A horrifying thought that was enough to set her heart pounding and her pulse racing.