A chilling thought obliterated everything else. Perhaps defilement was not his intent. Perhaps her abduction was tied to her uncle's murder. Perhaps Ashburnham meant to kill the woman who was standing in the way of his ill-gotten gains.
Fear paralyzed her.
If her mouth weren't bound she could have asked the man with the eye patch where he was taking her. She could have asked him how much he was being paid. Surely Adam would pay him more for her safe release. She was certain of it. What a pity she was unable to talk to the disgusting man.
Was he a killer? Had he been told to kill her?
Tears came when she thought of dying so young. If only she had been able to capture Adam's heart before she died. If only she could have found herself in his protective arms.
As their overloaded horse slowed its gait and her whole body began to tremble violently from the bitter cold, she fantasized about being back in the bed she had shared with Adam. How secure she had felt, how utterly content she had been. If only she could see him one last time. If only she could tell him how much she had come to love him.
Even if he could never love her as he loved Maria, she knew in her heart that in some small way he did love her. He would be sad at her death.
Now she wept. For her and Adam.
* * *
His horse pounding through the barren countryside beneath a moon obscured by heavy clouds, Adam felt guilty that he wore a greatcoat while his unfortunate wife had not even the warmth of a woolen dress. He prayed he would get to her before . . . before someone harmed her, before she perished from exposure to the cold.
Not long after he left the inn's livery stable, his brothers and William's valet caught up with him. He prayed the four heavily armed men would be able to overpower Emma's abductor. He prayed that the vile man would take pity on his petite victim and cover her exposed body. He prayed they would not be too late to save her.
The Birmingham brothers had always been able to count on one another in a crisis. Tonight, though, his brothers raced with the same abandon as he. It was as if each of them reacted as they would have, had their own cherished wives been in the same danger Emma was. His chest constricted. Having just begun to feel a deepening connection with his own wife, he felt all the sicker over losing her, felt all the sicker that he'd not been a true husband to her. How he wished he had taken her into his arms last night and made her his wife in the purest sense.
He would give all his tomorrows to have that one night back.
It ripped his heart to recall her telling him that he was her dearest friend. Now he wished he could tell her she was and always would be his dearest friend. He couldn't lose her—not now, now that he realized how very dear she was to him.
Now that her very existence was threatened, he fondly recalled the many pleasant hours they had spent together. He hadn't enjoyed anything so much since he'd been a cricket-mad lad who had hated to see the sun come down at night. Every moment with Emma had been even more pleasurable.
He regretted that he'd said his farewells to her each night at her bedchamber door. Why did I not try to be the husband of her heart?
It only now occurred to him that his young wife was the wife of his heart.
Rage tore through him when he thought of that man hurting her. Adam would kill him with no compunction. The idea of Emma being murdered made Adam feel as if his own heart had abruptly stopped beating.
Adam wished like the devil he knew how much time had lapsed between her abduction and the moment he set off on his horse. It had to be nearly twenty minutes. He drew a deep breath. Twenty minutes' head start which he had to make up. It might take a few hours to do so, but his horse had to be considerably quicker than one driven by a man hindered by carrying a woman. Even if she was small.
* * *
All Adam cared about was getting his wife safe and warm. He knew he could count on William to do whatever it took to subdue Emma's abductor.
If they caught up with them. He had no assurances she was even on this road. What if the man had taken her to a house . . . for vile purposes? Adam's blood ran cold at the thought.
Turning his thoughts in a more hopeful direction, he believed if they were on this road Emma and her abductor couldn't possibly be traveling as fast as he and his brothers. So why in the devil hadn't they gained on them by now?
He was getting discouraged, but when he saw a lone horse on the distant horizon, his pulse spiked. He rode faster. He soon knew with sickening certainty he'd found his wife.
When they got close enough for him to see the way she was slung over the horse, he thought she was dead. It was as if every organ in his body instantly shut down. Overwhelming grief numbed him.