Chapter 3
Blindfolded and curled up in a corner with two walls supporting her, Helen remained still as she regained consciousness. She measured her breathing, allowing her foggy brain to slowly clear and focus on the voices of her kidnappers.
“Whistlestop will have our heads if he discovers we were involved.”
The male voice was vaguely familiar, but Helen couldn’t pin point to whom it belonged to.
“What choice did we have?”
She recognized that smooth tenor tone. It belonged to Lord Hurlington! What in the blazes were Bryce and his friends up to?
Her intended and Lord Hurlington were extremely close friends; both were notorious flirts and rakes, and both had familial ties to the Network. Even though their looks were similar enough that they could pass as brothers, Helen had to admit she was slightly more drawn to Whistlestop’s features, especially the man’s eyes which were a mix of ocean blue and grass green versus Lord Hurlington’s emerald green.
Lord Hurlington continued, “Should we wait until Lady Helen awakens to ensure she wasn’t injured while being transported here?”
“Have you lost all your senses, man? No, we should escape before she regains consciousness, and we damn well better leave before Whistlestop arrives.” Heavy footsteps echoed through the room followed by the click of a latch being opened. “Let’s go.”
Her unknown captor was obviously eager to leave, but unless Lord Hurlington had managed to master the art of treading silently, there was no indication that the gentleman was prepared to exit.
From close by, Lord Hurlington replied, “I’m not leaving. Whistlestop would want me to see to Lady Helen’s well-being. I can’t abandon her until I know she is fine.”
“Whistlestop will be livid when he arrives.”
There was no mistaking the quiver of fear in the man’s tone. Bryce could be direct and intimidating, but he was never a brute or quick to anger.
She replayed the peculiar conversation between her kidnappers. Mayhap Bryce wasn’t the one who had orchestrated her sudden removal from her home. She had heard enough. It was time to act. Since her captors had left her hands unbound, she reached up to pull down the blindfold, but a warm hand covered hers. “Lady Helen, it would be best if you didn’t remove?—”
“Lord Hurlington, if you wish to remain unharmed, I suggest you…”
The man removed his hand before she could finish her sentence and she tugged at the handkerchief preventing her from opening her eyes. Helen blinked and turned to her right at the sound of multiple men approaching. Just as the room came into focus, two burly men dragged in her betrothed through the tiny doorway and deposited Bryce in the middle of the room. For a moment she simply stared at the man she had gone to great lengths to avoid for years. The vivacious Duke of Whistlestop laid unmoving on the floor. It was a sight she never imagined. Her stomach clenched and she scurried forward to kneel next to him. Ignoring the men who quickly backed away, she patted him down from head to toe as she was trained to do, checking for injuries. No broken bones. She examined both his hands and face. No signs of a struggle. Wanting answers, she looked up only to find that they were alone. Jaw clenched, Helen rose and marched directly to the door, which she assumed was already barred. Still, she had to try.
She pushed and pulled on the door handle to no avail. “Lord Hurlington!”
Through the wood panel, Lord Hurlington replied, “The Network Council convenes later today. You shall receive all the answers you seek then.”
Ear pressed to the door, Helen counted the booted footfalls that followed. Ten. Ten paces away from freedom. She turned, pressed her back against the solid surface behind her, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. The faint scent of tobacco had her rushing to Bryce’s side. They were being held in one of Mr. Cadby’s back rooms, which meant it was the elders who were behind their kidnappings.
She grabbed her fiancé by the lapels and shook him as hard as she could. “Wake up.”
Bryce’s hands grabbed her by the shoulders and seconds later she found herself beneath him. She held on tight to the man’s coat and stared up at him. “Your grace, we need to find a way to escape.”
Eyes still slightly glassy, Bryce blinked down at her. “What in the blazes is going on?”
She let go of his coat and fell back against the floor. “Apparently we are scheduled to meet with the Council this afternoon.”
“Ah. I see.” Bryce let his head fall forward. “I suppose that means we have run out of time.”
“Not if we find a way out of here.” She tilted her head back and scanned the room.
Rather than agreeing with her and helping to find an exit, Bryce released her and rolled back onto his back next to her. “Running and hiding will not solve anything. You should know that by now. If the Council elders deemed it necessary to go to such lengths to kidnap us both, I highly doubt they are willing to accept any other resolution than for us to wed. My question is, are you willing to honor the terms of our betrothal?”
If it was merely a matter of honor, she wouldn’t hesitate to wed the man—but it wasn’t.
Was it selfish of her to want a devoted and loving husband? Mayhap it was, but she wasn’t willing to settle for a prearranged marriage to a man who had not shown a single ounce of interest in her over the entire course of their betrothal, which spanned two decades. She sat up and glanced down at Bryce, who had turned his head to face her.
She gathered every ounce of courage she possessed and asked, “What if I’m not willing?”
Bryce let out a sigh and slung his arm over his eyes, “Then I shall assist you in escaping and I’ll remain behind to deal with the Council on one condition.”
“Which would be?”
“You share with me your reasons for avoiding me all these years and how you came to the decision not to marry me.”
Needing a moment to gather her thoughts, she tucked her legs under her skirts, hugged her knees to her chest. It wasn’t a totally unreasonable request on Bryce’s part, and quite generous given their current situation. If only her reasoning was based more on logic rather than emotion, she could have crafted an eloquent speech, but her behavior had been far from pragmatic. She glanced down at Bryce, who now had both arms flung over his handsome features. It was as if he was shielding himself from what she might say next. Ugh. Decisions. Decisions. Decisions. The monologue she had been drafting in her head to release Bryce from his obligation to marry her would do her no good now. Knees tucked under her chin, she asked the question that had been plaguing her for years. “Why did you play my papa for terms that were unfavorable to you?”
He sat up and faced her. Head cocked to one side he answered her with a grin. “Because…even at the age of six you already had a mind of your own and I knew you would want to at least have a say in when and where we wed.”
Helen couldn’t help but return his smile. “One last question before I give you my answer.”
“Just one?” His eyebrow over his left eye raised up and down.
Perhaps she had underestimated how well Bryce knew her. “Just one.” She took a deep breath hoping her heart would unwind once she received Bryce’s answer to the question that had kept her awake most of the night prior to Lord Hurlington and his mysterious accomplice kidnapping her from her chambers. “Do you love her?”
Clearly befuddled, Bryce shook his head. “Her? Love?”
It was a rather simple question. So why was the only person she knew of to have ever defeated her papa in a chess match behaving as if he was in a quandary. Since her answer hinged upon his, Helen clarified, “Her, as in the woman you trust. The woman you were with at the Redburn ball…the one who knows the truth about us.”
“Ahhh…Lady Hazel.” His lips curved into a smug grin as he uttered Lady Hazel’s name.
What had she expected? He was a rake, after all. She shouldn’t be surprised or hurt by his reaction, yet her hands fisted into tight balls. Blast the man for making her chest ache. Unable to remain silent a moment longer, she prompted, “Well?”
Looking directly at her, he answered, “You are correct, I do trust Lady Hazel. But what led you to believe I might be in love with her?”
All patience with the man exhausted, she stared back at Bryce, intending to give him a piece of her mind but for a split second her heart stopped. He trusted Lady Hazel. He trusted her enough to share their secret engagement that had been kept from the ton for two decades. Suddenly, all the pent up frustration that had built up over the years faded and she was left feeling hollow. With a sigh of defeat she asked, “Can you not simply answer my question? Must every conversation we engage in be a debate?”
He blinked first, which in itself was astonishing for he’d never lost a staring competition to her before. “A moment please…” He rubbed the back of his hand under the tip of his jaw where there were already signs of stubble. With a nod he continued, “Right. Your question was: Am I in love with Lady Hazel? And my answer is…”
The blasted man paused. Didn’t he know her lungs burned. She closed her eyes and focused on the simple act of breathing. He must love Lady Hazel, or he would have immediately declared he wasn’t. His hesitation must stem from his constant need to be kind and polite at all times. She pressed her forehead to the tops of her bent knees.
“Lady Helen?” Bryce’s hands fell upon her slumped shoulders.
She raised her head and opened her eyes, allowing a solitary tear to escape. “I’m happy for you. After all these years you have finally found a lady you want to share your life with.”
He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb across her skin. “You don’t look happy.”
Ignoring the deep ache in her chest, she rolled her shoulders back and said, “Appearances, as you know, can be deceiving.” She expelled a deep breath and pasted on a smile. “If you assist me to escape, I promise you shall never have to see me again.”
“What! Never see you again!” Bryce rolled to his feet hauling her up with him by the shoulders. Bent at the waist, he once again captured her gaze and added, “What are you saying?”
“I can’t in good faith marry you when you are in love with Lady Hazel.”
“I never said I was in love, let alone in love with Lady Hazel.” His brow crinkled. “The only woman I’ve ever considered marrying is you…and you will have to kill me first before I ever agree to let you go forever.”
Helen stared directly into Bryce’s deadly serious green eyes and blinked. She’d seen that look of determination once before, when he sat across the chess board from her papa all those years ago playing a match as if his life depended upon the outcome and not hers. He had blatantly denied he was in love, so why was he so adamant about marrying her? His logic made no sense to her.
Skirts gripped tightly in her fisted hands, she stiffened her spine and continued to scowl at the man in front of her. She would have to manage on her own, much like she had since her papa had died.
The rattle of keys at the door had Bryce hauling her behind him. She didn’t need to be shielded. Helen brushed her intended’s protective arm aside. Should she take a stance next to him or in front of him?
The door flung open before she could decide, and to her surprise Bryce launched himself at Lord Hurlington. The two men, skilled in hand-to-hand combat, were distracted as they circled one another about the room. There—the opportunity she needed. It was now or never. Probably her one and only chance to run and flee, and leave Bryce behind. With a heavy heart, Helen picked up her skirts and ran out the door. No matter the consequences her choice might entail, she wasn’t willing to marry a man who didn’t love her.