But for some reason he could not fathom, he suddenly felt compelled to return to the bedchamber he shared with Emma. Something told him she was in danger. At the thought, he raced from one dark chamber to another, then took the stairs two at a time. His heart raced—not from exertion—when he reached the landing.
The door to their bedchamber stood open.
He sped to the chamber, tore through their parlor, and stood facing their bed, sickened.
Emma was gone.
He fought against the optimistic hope that she'd gone looking for him. The dress she'd worn that evening still hung on a wall hook. She would never have left their chamber dressed in her night shift. Even if it weren't such a beastly cold night.
His stomach went queasy. Fury slammed into him. Someone had abducted his wife. Good God Almighty, would she end up as her uncle had? At the thought, a pain as palpable as a sword tore through him. Involuntarily, he wailed.
William! William would know what to do. He sprinted to his brother's chamber and pounded at the door. This was no time to be considerate of others. "Wake up!" he yelled.
William, hiding his nakedness behind the door, yanked it open. "What the hell?"
"Someone's taken Emma!"
Lady Sophia shrieked.
"I'll throw on my clothes." The door closed on Adam.
Nick's door was thrown open. "What the devil's going on?"
Adam moved to him. Nick had put on his breeches but was holding up the flap with his hands. "It's Emma. Someone's abducted her."
"I'll be right there."
A moment later, the three Birmingham brothers, now fully dressed, gathered in the corridor. Lady Sophia, most of her hiding behind the door, poked out her head. "It must have something to do with the man who followed us in London."
Adam felt as if he could lose the contents of his stomach. "What man? You knew my wife was in danger?"
"I'm sorry," she said in a shaky voice.
"What did he look like?" Adam demanded.
"We didn't see him. My coachman told us a lone man on a horse had followed us from your house to Madame De Guerney's."
Adam winced. "Dear God."
"Quick!" William said. "We can arm ourselves from the stash beneath my coach seats. I'll have Thompson come."
William's valet was far more than a valet. He was the kind of man one wanted fighting on one’s side.
While they waited for their horses to be harnessed, Adam asked the sleepy groom if he saw a man carrying a woman.
"Indeed I did! When I 'eard the 'orse's hooves pounding away so quickly, I feared someone had stolen one of ours. I looked from me window. I couldn't see real good, but it was most peculiar to see a woman with such a little bit of clothing on such a cold night. And I coulda swore there was somethin' tied around 'er mouth."
Adam's voice was splintered when he asked, "Which road did they take?" Poor little Emma. She might die from the elements—if not at the hands of the cut-throat.
"They went south."
"Back to London," William murmured.
Adam was harnessing his own horse. He had to leave immediately—before something unspeakable happened to his wife. Just imagining how cold she must be made him feel as if he could weep like a woman.
But this wasn't the time for weeping. It was the time for action. Cursing, he mounted and sped off, a sword at his side, a knife sheathed on his leg, and a musket fastened to his saddle.
His brothers and William's valet—all bruising riders—soon caught up with him.
* * *
The horrid man who had abducted her had slung Emma over his horse as if she were a rolled-up rug. The blood rushed to her head. There was no way she could remove the cloth which silenced her because her hands were bound behind her with hemp.
Even if it meant falling on her head, she was willing to propel herself onto the ground in order to get away from him. Once on the ground, though, success was not guaranteed, given her inability to scream.
Before she could shimmy her midsection off the horse, her abductor mounted and spurred on the horse at a prodigious clip. To leap from the horse at that rate of speed would be suicide.
She had initially been so frozen by fear that she hadn't even thought of her physical misery. But as they raced through the frigid night air, she became sickeningly aware of how brutally cold she was. Her teeth chattered. She felt as if the chill had penetrated into her bones. Her skin was in danger of frostbite. She had never known such discomfort. She might even die of exposure.
Which was preferable to being violated by this odious man. It did seem odd to her that if he wanted to ravish her, why was he not doing so within minutes of leaving the inn?