By Love Undone (32 page)

“I wish I knew, my lord. Today has been completely…nonsensical. First His Grace your father very kindly stops by, and then your brother, and now we can’t find Maddie, and who knows where—”

“My brother stopped by?” Quin repeated very slowly.

“Just for a moment,” the viscount clarified. “And I beg your pardon, my lord, but he wasn’t very polite. Demanded to know where my daughter was, and then off he went, without even a ‘Good day.’”

“And now you can’t find Maddie,” Quin said quietly, something very black and angry stirring in his chest.

“Well, she left first, in a coach,” Claire said, wiping at her eyes. “At least we think so. Rafael was on a horse.”

He nodded. “Yes. He was on
my
horse. Do you by any chance know where they might have been heading?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “He said something about Gretna.”

“Gretna Green, perhaps?” Quin asked calmly, fury tearing through him. Rafe was a dead man. His brother’s
message was clear: he’d taken Aristotle, and he’d taken Maddie. Obviously he didn’t intend on coming back. He’d practically threatened to elope with her once already.

“Perhaps. He really didn’t say.”

Quin turned for the door. “So that’s how he wants it,” he growled. “All right, Rafe. Let’s play.”

M
addie gazed out the window of Charles Dunfrey’s dilapidated coach. Green meadows, stands of trees, and a scattered cottage now and again swept into view and then away again beneath the overcast sky. They were finally out of London, and she tried to relax a little.

She would never see Quin again. He would do his duty and marry Eloise Stokesley, and they would have children, and she would read something about him now and again in a newspaper, and that would be all.

The ache that had begun with the duke’s announcement this morning deepened into a hole so black she knew she would never laugh or smile again. Quin would say she was a coward, and she probably was. But finally and ultimately, she hoped he would realize that she’d done it because she loved him—so very much that she would let Eloise marry him, and so much that she wouldn’t be able to stand seeing him in the company of his new bride. Ever. Leaving London wasn’t a choice, but a necessity.

Maddie shook herself. “Shouldn’t we be able to see the coast by now?” she asked, glancing at Charles.

He’d been quiet for the more than two hours they’d
been traveling, and he stirred as though he’d been daydreaming. “Soon, I’m sure,” he said.

“This is really very kind of you,” she continued, hoping that talking to him would at least keep her thoughts away from Quin for more than a heartbeat. “I’m sure you must have had other plans for today.”

“It’s my pleasure, Maddie. Do you mind my asking what happened? You do have a valise with you, after all.”

“My aunt is suddenly ill,” she improvised. If she could help it, there would be no scandal this time. “In Spain. I need to go tend her, right away.”

“Your father’s sister?”

She shook her head. “No, my mother’s.”

The sun broke through the cloud covering, its light shining in her eyes, and she glanced out the window again and frowned.

Just as quickly she wiped the expression from her face. Her heart began to beat at twice its normal rate, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before Charles noticed her discomfiture. As far as she knew, his offer of assistance was completely legitimate. It was merely that the sun wasn’t quite where it was supposed to be at this time of morning. “Isn’t that odd?” she said, as casually as she could. “I thought the sun would be in front of us.”

Charles nodded, yawning. “We’re heading a little north, now. In a few minutes we’ll turn east again.”

“Of course,” she agreed, growing more suspicious and uneasy by the moment. “But isn’t Dover actually a little south of London?”

He chuckled. “Maddie, I have never doubted your wit and wisdom. Remind me, though, never to have you read a map for me.”

Maddie smiled stiffly. “Actually, cartography is something of a hobby of mine.”

He looked at her, his gaze sharpening a little. “Is that so?”

“Yes, as a—”

“Hold up there!”

Maddie jumped at the stentorian bellow coming from behind them. “Rafael?” Suddenly she was thankful her escape hadn’t gone quite as smoothly as she’d envisioned.

“I say, hold up there, coachman!” came from much closer.

She furrowed her brow and gave Charles her best look of bewildered confusion. “What in the world could Rafael Bancroft want with us?”

Charles leaned forward and rapped his cane against the roof. “I’m sure I have no idea. Keep going, Randolph! We’re in a hurry!”

The coach immediately accelerated, rocking precariously on the rutted road.

“I’m not asking again! Stop!”

“Mr. Dunfrey?” The coachman’s voice sounded extremely nervous. “Sir, he has a pistol.”

“A pistol?” Maddie gasped. Apparently, her hunch had been correct after all, though the realization was not very comforting. “Stop the coach. Something is terribly wrong, I’m sure.”

“I thought you needed to be with your aunt as soon as possible,” Charles commented, sitting back again. “Ignore him.”

“But it must be important!” she insisted, trying to decide if she actually wanted to risk leaping from the carriage while the horses were at a full gallop.

Charles eyed her, clearly annoyed, but she couldn’t read anything more than that in his expression. “Oh, very well. Randolph, stop!”

The coach lurched to a halt, nearly sending Maddie
to the floor. She grabbed onto the window frame and hauled herself back onto the seat.

“Maddie!”

Charles pulled the curved handle free from his cane, revealing a very sharp-looking rapier. “Ask him to come in,” he said, reaching out to rest the tip of the blade against her throat.

Torn between fury and fright, Maddie clenched her fists and scooted as far back in her seat as she could. The blade followed her. “Rafe? Come in, if you please.”

The door opened, followed by a very deadly-looking pistol, and a winded, angry-looking Rafael. “Maddie, come out of—” Rafael began, then swore as he saw the sword. “Sweet Lucifer, Dunfrey. Put it down.”

“I believe that’s my line,” Dunfrey said. “Turn it around slowly, and hand it to me. Randolph! Is he alone?”

“Aye, Mr. Dunfrey.”

“Are you all right, Maddie?” Rafe asked, the pistol and his eyes still unwaveringly on Charles.

“Yes, I’m fine, for the moment. What are you doing here?”

“I came to tell you that you’re being kidnaped.”

“Hmm,” Dunfrey sighed, far too calmly. “Dear Lady Stokesley, I suppose?”

“Yes.”

“Well, now you’re being kidnaped as well, Bancroft. Give me the pistol and sit down.”

Still gazing at Dunfrey, Rafe backed off just a little. He whistled sharply.

“What in damnation was that for?” Dunfrey snapped.

Rafael continued to look at him coolly. “Just talking to my horse.”

“Well, stop it, and get in here. Slowly.”

With a scowl, Rafe turned the weapon and handed it,
butt first, to Charles. “Watch out there,” he said, taking the seat beside Maddie. “It’s loaded.”

“I should hope so. Randolph, go!”

The coach rattled to a start again. Maddie glanced sideways at Rafael, but his attention remained on Charles. “How did you know where I was?” she asked him quietly.

“Convinced Eloise to let me in on the secret,” he muttered back, smiling at their captor. “She can be very cooperative, given the correct incentive.”

“What does Eloise know about this?”

“Apparently she’s been working from the beginning to keep you and Quin apart. I suppose—”

“That’s enough of that,” Charles interrupted. “You know, Bancroft, you’ve made this whole thing quite a bit stickier. You won’t vanish nearly as easily as Madeleine, I’m afraid.”

“No one’s vanishing, Dunfrey. Except you, when they send you to the gallows.”

“Charles,” Maddie put in, trying to keep Dunfrey distracted so that he wouldn’t shoot one or the other of them, “why would you do this? You have nothing to gain.”

“Except five thousand quid.” Rafe folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

Maddie wished she could look so calm. “I don’t have five thousand quid.”

“Eloise does,” Rafe said, already looking half asleep.

Charles smiled and, one-handed, slid the rapier back into the cane. “Actually, it’s more than that. By my reckoning, Lord Halverston should be willing to part with at least that much again to get you married respectably.”

Abruptly a great many things began to make sense. “You only wanted to marry me for the money?” she
asked, anger beginning to edge out her fright. She’d suspected, of course, but this was too much.

“It’s the way of the world, Maddie. And be grateful for it. If not for the extra blunt from your father, I would likely throw both you and Bancroft down a well. Now I’ve only one to worry about.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Rafe murmured, so quietly Maddie could barely hear him.

She turned back to the window so Charles wouldn’t see the sudden anticipation in her eyes. And she hoped desperately that she would see Quin at least one more time.

When Lady Highbarrow returned home for afternoon tea, a note awaited her. Beeks, looking even more stoic than usual, bowed as he handed it to her.

“From Lord Warefield, Your Grace. A messenger delivered it several hours ago.”

“Thank you.” Now her sons were reduced to conversing with her via messenger. At the butler’s continued dour expression, she paused. “Is something wrong, Beeks?”

“I couldn’t say, my lady.”

“I see.” Curious, she headed up to her private room, where a fresh pot of tea awaited her. Pouring herself a cup, she unfolded the missive—and rose so quickly, she tipped the entire tea tray onto the floor. “
Lewis!
”

The duke appeared a moment later. From his expression, her uncharacteristic shout had completely unsettled him.

“What is it, Victoria?”

“What did you do?” she demanded, stalking up to him, the note clenched in one hand.

He assumed his normal stubborn, imperturbable expression. “I set things to rights.”

“Oh, really? Then tell me what you make of this.” She unfolded the note again and read it.

The duchess looked up at her husband. “So I repeat, Lewis, what did you do?”

“That damned fool!” the duke exploded. “Both of them! We’ll be the laughingstock of London. Two Bancrofts chasing after a whore!”

“What concerns me, husband,” Victoria said, in a quiet and controlled voice, “is what will happen when Quin catches up to them. ‘Set everything to rights,’ indeed. They’ll kill one another.”

The Duke of Highbarrow stared at her for a moment, the color slowly draining from his stern face. “Good God,” he hissed, and turned on his heel. “Damned, damned fools.”

If Maddie had left in a carriage, and Rafael on Aristotle, then logically they intended to meet somewhere along the way. If Quin had been thinking clearly, he would have asked Claire whether the coach had any identifying markings, but he hadn’t seemed to be able to do much but ride at top speed along the north road and curse his brother in half a dozen languages. It was easier to focus on Rafael, who had taken her away, rather than to admit that Maddie had left him.

He had always prided himself on being reasonable and fair in his dealings, on being in control of his emotions, and on honoring the responsibilities of his title. As he traveled the busy road, dodging hay wagons and shepherds and stopping every closed carriage he passed, he
didn’t give a damn about any of that—or about the ruckus he was causing. Rafael had taken Maddie away, and Rafael would give her back.

It was past noon when he came upon the first clue. Just off the road, a group of young boys surrounded a horse and unsuccessfully tried to grab hold of its dragging reins. Quin looked at the animal more closely, and then sharply pulled up his own mount.

Aristotle dodged nimbly around his would-be captors, at the same time staying within the same small clearing rather than running off, where they would have had no chance of catching him. Quin kneed his gelding toward the group, stopping at the fringe of the trees.

“Aristotle,” he called, though the horse had never listened to him before.

To his surprise, the gelding whinnied and trotted up to him. Quin leaned down and picked up the reins.

“He wouldn’t leave you behind,” he told the horse, his mind racing in a hundred different directions. “Not now. He ordered you to stay here, didn’t he? Why would he do that?”

“Hey, milord, that horse yours?” one of the boys called.

“My brother’s,” he answered. “Have you seen him?”

“That beastie’s been here for over an hour. Never seen nobody.”

Angry as Quin was, the presence of Aristotle actually made him stop and think for a moment. And when he did, the idea of Rafe and Maddie running off together
and
leaving Aristotle behind to mark their trail made absolutely no sense at all. He looped the bay’s reins around the cantle of his saddle and turned north again. Whatever was going on, he was bloody well going to find out what it was.

“You’re going to kill that fine pair of horses of yours, if you insist on running them like this,” Rafael noted calmly.

“Shut up,” Charles snapped.

He’d become increasingly short-tempered all afternoon, and as satisfying as tormenting their captor was, Maddie wished Rafael would let up on him a little. Her own temper was becoming very fragile, and her bottom and legs were cramped from sitting in the ill-sprung coach all day.

“If you’re going to kill me,” Rafe began again amiably, “you might as well tell me where we’re going.”

“Rafe,” she whispered, looking sideways at him, “do quit reminding him about that.”

“No, he’s quite right, my dear,” Charles countered. “You’ll figure it out eventually, anyway. We are going to Gretna Green, so that Maddie and I can be married.”

She stared at him. “I am not going to marry you, in Scotland or anywhere else. So you may as well stop the coach right now, and let us—”

“Maddie, Maddie, Maddie,” he chastised, shaking his head. “Please understand. I receive five thousand quid for taking you out of London. An additional sum will be mine when
you
are mine. If you make that idea too unpleasant, I will settle for the initial payment, and I’ll bury you in the same hole as Bancroft here.”

“Kidnaping is one thing,” Maddie said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Murder is quite another. I hope you realize that. You’re setting a price on the worth of your own life, as well as ours.”

“Thank you for your unasked for bits of wisdom, my dear, but allow me some credit.” As he had been for the past twenty minutes, he glanced toward the window, pushing the curtains aside with his free hand. “Randolph!” he called in a louder voice. “The eastern road, if you please.”

“Aye, Mr. Dunfrey. I see it.”

Dunfrey sat back again, the pistol still aimed at Maddie. She supposed that was to discourage Rafe from attempting any sort of rescue or escape, but she wished Charles would stop looking at her as though the idea of shooting her didn’t trouble him in the least.

“Once you turned down my proposal, Maddie, I planned this little contingency. Of course, I didn’t expect you to run out your front door and into my carriage with your bag all packed, but you have to admit, it did make things a bit easier on me.”