Chapter 29
The faintest hue of inky dawn was just lightening the sky as Lord Ramsbury’s chestnut gelding plodded wearily through unfamiliar gates.
Hooves crunched along a white gravel driveway, the animal’s unsteady gait waking Selina from a slumber that may or may not have been voluntary.
She had a vague memory of Lord Ramsbury’s arm around her neck and an intense squeeze that had made her skull pound and her eyes bulge. Then, nothing.
Against her better judgment, she had continued to plead with him to take her back, and he had made good on his threat to silence her. Or so it seemed.
A pleasant manor appeared through a tunnel of leaning oak trees, but it might as well have been a terrifying Gothic castle for all the comfort it brought her.
“Where are we?” she asked thickly, her throat sore.
Lord Ramsbury’s arm was still wrapped around her waist, and her skin crawled at the unwelcome touch.
“We are home, my darling.” He paused. “At least for a few hours, so we might refresh ourselves before continuing on.”
“Continuing on? To where?” she croaked.
“I shall tell you later,” he replied, a smile in his voice.
Possibilities swarmed in Selina’s head until it buzzed like a wasp’s nest. Of course, he would want to get her as far from his country residence as possible. It was the first place that people would look for her if they discovered she had been taken.
If…
That tiny word sent a tremor through her.
What if her family, her friends, and Philip wasted time searching for her elsewhere? What if they did not deduce that Lord Ramsbury had kidnapped her? What if they went to London? What if they were too late in finding her before this wretched beast did something awful to her?
After all, there was one way to ensure that she could never be returned to Philip. Two ways, actually. Though at that moment, death was preferable to the other option. A possibility that made her stomach lurch.
The horse continued down the driveway, coming to a halt at the steps of a wisteria-draped porch. A beautiful entrance to what would undoubtedly be a unique hell.
Lord Ramsbury slid down from the saddle.
He didn’t offer his hands to help her, but grabbed her roughly around the middle and all but pulled her to the ground.
She stumbled, her legs locked after so long on the horse, but she would have preferred to fall flat on her face than be held tight to the Marquess’s chest.
Her nose and mouth were squashed against him, her lungs panicking as she sought to draw breath.
“Now, my dear, do not think about running,” he warned, releasing her just enough that she could gulp in some air. “I have taken great pains to bring you here, and you won’t get far.”
With his hand moving to her upper arm, his grip a manacle, he tugged her up the porch steps and through the main doors. She tried to drag her feet, but he was unreasonably strong.
Inside the manor, a staff of three awaited them: an older woman, an older man, and a young maid. Evidently, they had been expecting their arrival.
“I apologize for the small staff,” Lord Ramsbury said brightly, as if there was nothing wrong at all. “It is, sadly, a matter of finances. But once we are married, you will be able to hire as many as you please.”
“Married?” Selina choked out, though it was no great surprise.
However, there was a difference between fearing the worst and hearing it spoken out loud.
“No, Lord Ramsbury,” she said, mustering her strength. “There will be no wedding between us. I am betrothed to someone else.”
She eyed the doors behind her, but the older man—the butler, presumably—was already moving to close them. Her nerves shuddered as she heard the turn of a key in the lock.
“And I forgive you for your foolishness,” Lord Ramsbury said with a smile. “Rather, I forgive you for making a fool out of me. Our wedding will remedy the insult of your actions. Now, I suggest you rest some, have something to eat, refresh yourself, and then we shall set out for the north.”
“What?” she rasped.
“I have a friend there who will let us stay at his residence and be married in the church there,” he explained. “No one is coming to retrieve you, Selina. If they are concerned at all for your whereabouts, they will be headed in the wrong direction.”
Once again, he had spoken her greatest fear aloud.
Her body froze.
“We cannot be married,” she urged, her throat tight. “Philip obtained a special license. I am to be his wife, not yours. Please, Lord Ramsbury, just take me back to Ashbrook before you cause trouble for yourself that cannot be undone.”
Lord Ramsbury laughed, a coarse and unpleasant sound. “My dear Selina, our wedding banns were never taken down. Our marriage will be as legal as a marriage can be.”
“No…”
“Yes, my darling, and you will soon see that it is for the best,” he said. “The Duke doesn’t care for you. You are just a means of temporary satisfaction to him. To me, you are everything. I shall treat you well, my dear. I shall treat you with respect, as he could never do.”
“But… But I do not want you!” she blurted out, wrenching free of his grasp. “I want Philip. I want to be Philip’s wife. Take me back to him at once!”
She had not known it with certainty until that very moment. Despite what she had heard, despite the fact that she might never bear his children, she wanted to be Philip’s wife. She wanted to be with him. She wanted what she had been looking forward to until it all went awry.
Lord Ramsbury seized her by the wrist and leaned in until he was almost nose-to-nose with her, his eyes flashing with anger. “I will never let him have you. You were mine from the beginning.”
“I was never yours,” she shot back. “I dreaded the very thought of marrying you!”
With a snarl, he dragged her across the entrance hall and into what appeared to be the dining room. There, he forced her down into a chair and called to his startled staff for rope.
“I will have what I deserve, whether you like it or not,” he hissed. “My fortune relies on you, and I will not lose this gamble. This time, I will win.”
She tried to wriggle free of his grip and the chair, but the madness in his eyes had extended to his body, his strength overwhelming.
“He will kill you when he finds out what you have done,” she spat.
“He will not know what I have done until it is too late,” he replied with a dark smirk. “Indeed, he is probably lying in bed, intertwined with Mary as we speak, enjoying her comforts on her last night. For old times’ sake.”
Selina faltered, pausing her struggle. “Mary? How do you know about Mary?”
“I needed some assistance, and she was only too keen to offer it,” he replied. “Perhaps now that you are gone from that place, she will also get what she desires—the Duke, all to herself.”
The maid’s determination to offer proof suddenly made awful sense. It had not been a gesture of kindness at all, or even revenge, but one of selfish intent. She had seen an opportunity to be rid of Selina, and she had taken it.
“You worked together…” It was not a question.
Lord Ramsbury grinned. “I needed you to want to run. I needed you to realize that the Duke was never the better prospect.” He leaned in closer, his cold, thin lips grazing her cheek. “You will be happy as Lady Ramsbury, I am certain of it.”
With all the strength she could muster, she shoved him hard in the chest. He rocked back, knocked off balance, and she seized her chance.
She darted away from the chair and ran for the dining room door, bolting out into the hallway. Running faster than she had ever done in her life, she sprinted across the entrance hall and paused, remembering the locked door.
Veering right, having no idea of the manor’s layout, she tore down the nearest hallway and opened the first door she came to.
I have to get out of here. I have to.
It was a study of some sort, and right there ahead of her was a sash window.
She ran for it and forced the stiff latch open. Footsteps echoed in the hallway as she shoved the sash window up and was struck by a welcoming gust of fresh air.
Quick as a flash, she climbed up and out… and might have made it had her skirts not caught on something. She twisted her head back to see what it was, and a scream caught in her throat when she saw Lord Ramsbury standing there, his eyes wild, with a fistful of her dress in his grasp.
She pulled against it, praying that the fabric would tear and allow her a chance at freedom. Instead, Lord Ramsbury began to reel her in like a fish on a hook.
Before she knew it, she was being pulled back through the window. She thrashed and kicked and fought with all of her might, but it was no good. He was simply too strong and too determined.
Breathless and sweating, she fell to the floor.
“I already told you, my darling—you won’t get far,” Lord Ramsbury said as he grabbed the collar of her dress and began to drag her across the too-smooth floors back to the dining room and that chair.
This time, the ropes were already waiting.
He set her back down onto the chair, huffing and puffing as he lashed her wrists and ankles to it. She did her best to resist, yet she found herself bound regardless. Tied there until he decided it was time for them to leave for the north and the wedding she didn’t want.
“I think I might have to reconsider,” he said, his breathing ragged. A moment later, he called out, “Mr. Palmer, would you be so kind as to fetch the priest?”
No… Oh, oh no…
All of her hopes of Philip somehow coming to her rescue were soundly dashed. It seemed increasingly unlikely that he would notice her absence until the morning. By then, it would be too late.
By then, she would be the Marchioness of Ramsbury.