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Unfortunately, no heroic husband appeared on a white horse to sweep her away from his evil cousin. Instead, her kidnapper continued to carry her, passing through various gardens. She smelled roses, then lavender, then an assortment of herbs. Finally, the man paused and set her down.
“We have to make a stop first.”
Aria doubted she would have said anything even if she did not have a stocking tied about her mouth. She wondered whether the man had stopped to fetch ammunition and firearms.
They came around a bend in the lane, and a cottage appeared. The thatched roof was visible even in the moonlight.
The place didn’t look like a murderer’s lair. It looked cute and adorable, like some architect had designed it after reading children’s tales for a year. Rose bushes lined the outside of the house, and she inhaled their sweet floral scent and reached out to touch a petal.
Her hand snagged against a thorn, and she withdrew her hand hastily.
Her kidnapper unlocked the door, and she entered the cottage. He closed the door, then removed her gag. “I doubt anyone could hear you if you screamed.”
“Is that supposed to calm me?”
“It’s a fact.”
Galileo perked up his ears and began to bark. She tightened her grip on him. “He senses you’re dangerous.”
“He senses we’re going to have company.”
Aria trembled. She didn’t need more people to threaten her. Perhaps Demon had been right all along. Her bodyguard had been adamant that danger was always lurking, and she’d scoffed, seeing his presence as a hindrance to relaxation rather than as a happy fact that could ease her worries.
She’d been wrong.
The very first time he’d given her space—on her wedding night, she’d been kidnapped.
She hoped he would be notified of her disappearance soon. The duke would have gone to visit her bedroom. The alarm would be raised. The duke and his men would scour the countryside for her, and if the duke suspected his cousin was behind her disappearance, they might even come here soon.
She inhaled. It would be fine. It had to be.
Galileo’s barks became more ferocious, and she soothed him and stroked his back.
“The dog makes things difficult,” her kidnapper said. “I didn’t know you had one.”
“My father gifted me him for my wedding and new life.”
“How splendid,” her kidnapper said faintly.
She stared at him. “Do you not like dogs?”
“I do,” her kidnapper said. “I just know someone else who might not. I suggest you hold onto him tightly.”
Her kidnapper left the room, and Aria scrutinized her surroundings. Lace curtains, designed more to bring in life than to hide dubious activities from the world, lined the windows. The walls were papered a pretty pale blue, and floral-patterned pillows lay languidly on fluffy armchairs. The cottage lacked the splendors of the castle. The ceilings were low and cozy, but even though the cottage was cold, she was certain it normally would be a quite pleasant location.
Footsteps headed toward her, and too late, she remembered that she should have used this opportunity to grab a vase or pick up a chair to toss at her abductor. Her heartbeat quickened, she glanced around the room—and the door opened.
In the next moment, her kidnapper reappeared. He was carrying something white in his arms. Something that caused Galileo’s barks to grow more agitated. Something that looked curiously fluffy.
She stared. “Is that a cat?”
Her kidnapper beamed. “Indeed.”
“What are you doing with it?”
“Bringing it, of course,” he said lightly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for kidnappers to travel with their pets. “We’ll be gone for a while.”
She blinked.
“We’ll need to leave this area,” he said.
She nodded.
“Princess Aria, please meet Lady Octavia.”
Aria stared at a fluffy white cat. The cat meowed, turned, and snuggled into Rupert’s arms.
“She’s a bit shy,” her kidnapper said, petting his cat.
“I see that.” Aria leaned closer to inspect her new companion.
Lady Octavia snarled and strode from the room.
“And she’s not particularly polite,” Rupert said. “She’s not accustomed to guests.”
Aria glanced at Galileo. “Well, he’s not accustomed to cats.”
“We should probably travel with some food,” Rupert said. “I’ll raid the larder.”
She nodded weakly. The man seemed terribly domestic.
He padded into the kitchen, then turned to her. “You can join me.”
She did so and followed him into it. Gray tile stones lined the floor, and she gazed around.
He glanced at her. “You look bewildered.”
“I’ve never been in a kitchen before.”
He chuckled, and his voice sounded warm and silky in her ear. “Well, glance around.”
She did so. A row of intimidating-looking knives hung from the wall. It would be easy to grab one. Her kidnapper was occupied with selecting food from the pantry. Her heartbeat quickened, and she inched toward the knives. Various sayings were stitched onto art pieces hanging on the wall, beside innocuous flowers.
“Who’s cottage is this?”
“Mine, of course,” her kidnapper replied.
She frowned. “I suppose you’re jealous of your cousin. I suppose you want to live in a castle like him. I suppose you want to have more money.”
The man chuckled. “That, princess, is absurd.” He tilted his head up, while still methodically filling a basket with bread, cutlery, and fruit. “Though more money would be nice.”
“Ha.” She quickly grabbed a knife and hid it in the folds of her dress. She moved toward him. Perhaps he wanted to steal her jewels, after all. He needn’t have stolen her as well, but perhaps, he’d been searching for them when she’d entered the room. Obviously, she’d been wearing her finest necklace, her finest earrings, and her finest bracelets for her wedding. She’d wished he’d just taken her gifts rather than taking her.
Father would pay a fortune to have her returned. Perhaps the duke would, too.
She inched toward the pantry door. It would be easy to lock him inside, especially now that she had a knife. Her heart tightened, but she wasn’t certain whether it was from nervousness at how he might react, or whether she might be doing the wrong thing.
She inhaled, then slammed the door, shutting him into the pantry.
“Princess?” he asked, his voice startled.
She glanced around the room, then pushed a sideboard in front of the pantry door.
He fiddled with the lock. Then he banged on the door. The sideboard began to move, and she could see him through the crack.
“Let me out of here,” he ordered.
“No,” she said. “You kidnapped me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Rescued you.”
A knock sounded on the main door, interrupting their conversation. Her kidnapper widened his eyes, but Aria beamed. Darling Dudley had discovered she was missing. Aria scrambled toward the sound.
They’d found her.