Chapter Six
L ater that afternoon, snow began to fall. Venus’s odious captor instructed his coachman to put up at the first inn they came to. Given that they were surrounded by nothing but farms for many, many miles, it could take a long time before they reached a posting inn.
Venus must use the time to plan a possible escape. In the back of her mind, a revolting thought kept pressing on her like a death sentence to a doomed man. What if he tries to take liberties before reaching Scotland?
Hopefully, they would come to an inn before darkness fell. She was counting on some kind soul—or chivalrous hero—to question matters upon seeing a gagged woman with bound hands.
But, she thought with dread strumming through her, what if Shuttlebotham managed to carry her inside without anyone seeing?
How would she be able to call out for help if her mouth were bound? She must think of some way or ways to create a commotion.
The oldest of her younger brothers—that would be Apollo—had taken her aside before he left for Oxford and (not without embarrassment) told her the best way to disable a man intent on having his way with her. Apollo instructed her to use all her might to knee or kick the threatening man in the groin. “I promise you,” Apollo had said, “the man will instantly let you go and collapse in spectacular pain.” She supposed the act would surely be accompanied by screams or some yelps of pain. Best of all, the “injury” would make the man let her go.
When Apollo had first shared his advice, it had taken her a moment to realize that groin was a broad term that included that dangly male part. That must be the place where she was supposed to direct a kick.
Kicking itself was a trusted way to make noise. Let’s say her captor was sneaking her up the stairs. She could call attention to her plight by rapidly kicking the walls. Surely, that would bring someone to investigate. Her kicking could even force him to raise his voice to her, and that could possibly summon a potential rescuer.
This was undoubtedly the worst day of her life. Added to the misery of her nearly hopeless situation, was the day’s frightful chill, which penetrated into every cell in her body. The cold wind howled into their coach. She dreamed of sitting in front of the fire at Tilford, like Emily had suggested. Venus was even colder than she’d been that day in Adonis’s barn. Even with gloves and a muff, her hands had felt like icicles, and now she didn’t even have the benefit of the muff. Her ankles stung from the chill.
She glared across the coach’s interior at the disgusting man who had stolen her away. When he had come to propose marriage to her several days earlier, she had not disliked him. She was flattered as well as being worried about hurting his feelings. Now, she detested him. Their eyes met.
“I don’t want you to hate me,” he said in a gentle voice. “You’ll see. I’m in love with you. I will show you just how much.”
“I don’t want you to show me anything. I hate you. I will never, ever fall in love with you.” She stomped her slipper. Then, just looking at the slipper reminded her of the day Adonis had removed her slippers and massaged her stocking feet.
She could weep from despair. She had been so close to achieving her life’s goal: winning Adonis’s affections.
Now, there was a very good chance she would end up shackled for life to the repulsive Donald Shuttlebotham.
For, deep in her soul, she knew she was doomed.
*
James and his brother-in-law, the Duke of Bentley, were traveling so fast, they had left the Beresford coach behind more than an hour ago. Whenever they saw signs of civilization, they would stop to make inquiries. Had Shuttlebotham’s speeding coach passed by this way? These queries confirmed they were on the right trail behind that vile man. James would do everything in his power to crush him. Shuttlebotham’s only way of getting a woman was to steal her. It would not be permitted.
Still, James was low, fearing he would be too late to prevent that blighter from ruining the lovely, angelic, perfect little Venus Jones. James’s hands fisted. With each beat of his hammering heart, he vowed: I will kill that man. His face stung from the chilly wind. Physically, he was miserable. Emotionally, he was devastated. If he didn’t reach her in time...
With each strike of his horse’s hooves, he regretted this abduction had not occurred during the summer. Instead, this had to be one of the coldest days of the year. He knew it would even be uncomfortably cold inside a coach. Riding on a horse was almost insanity, it was so brutally cold. It might not have been so bad had the wind not been so strong. The chilled wind pierced into every pore of his well-bundled body.
His and Bentley’s.
“Why in the hell did I consent to come?” Bentley complained, a mischievous smile on his face.
“Because you’re a knight-in-shining-armor by nature. You heard there was a damsel in distress, and you had to jump in.”
Bentley frowned. “More like my wife ordered me to come.”
“I’m glad you did, old fellow. Sorry about the beastly cold.”
“Me, too.”
How was it that woolen clothing, a voluminous great coat, Kashmir muffler, heavy leather gloves and riding boots did nothing to stave off the frightful cold? Could rolling naked in the snow be any worse than this?
James’s stomach roiled. The only thing worse than what he felt right now would be to learn that damned Shuttlebotham had had his way with the perfect little Venus. James could not allow that to happen.
Then the snow started.
Visions of Shuttlebotham’s coach buried under mounds of snow terrified him. Equally as horrifying was his own plight. How much longer could his mount go on in this unbearable cold? For himself, he wasn’t too worried. He could wait out a storm in a house or barn along the way.
But what about Venus?
The darker the sky, the deeper the snow, the more acute his despair grew. Was there any hope he could find Venus in time?