“No, Wentworth,” Myles broke in. “Do not go off half-cocked. When we find him and he is thrown in Newgate he will wish we killed him. Leaving him there to suffer, starve, and rot to death is a much better punishment. But first we need to stay calm and rational. It won’t do Emma any good if we lose our heads.”
Thomas heard a commotion and then running feet before his study door was flung open and a breathless Bella, Amelia, and his mother piled inside. Bella waved a sealed note in her hand. “This just came and it is addressed to you.”
Wentworth reached across his desk and broke the anonymous seal. He studied it, then recited out loud:
Duke,
I have your duchess. Since you failed to meet my demands the first time, I have upped it to seventy-five thousand pounds for the duchess’s safe return. Since I know you would not want me to harm one hair on her pretty little head, or use her lusciously ripe body for my pleasure, I think you will meet my demands. As before, deposit the monies in the London Nation Bank in Account Number 00516. You have until this time tomorrow or I will thoroughly enjoy your young bride, and you will never see her again unless you can work miracles by draining the Thames.
During his life, Thomas had known anger, dealt with criminals, spent time with fools and men too stupid to live. But never in his life had he known such rage boiling up inside his body, threatening to overthrow his senses. On top of the rage was the fear. A fear so profound his body shook violently on the inside. He felt a need to kill, a need he’d never felt so close to the surface. Even he was frightened by his thoughts. And as Myles had pointed out, he needed to stay calm. More so now that they believed they knew what they were dealing with. And there was nothing he would not risk to save his Emma.
“Pardon me, Your Grace,” came the voice of Smythe through his thoughts.
“Yes.”
“Your family?”
My family, Oh, right. They were still in his study. Three wide-eyed female faces stared at him. “Mother, Amelia, and Bella, I think you should leave. You have heard enough shocking things already, and I wish to spare you more.”
“But––” Bella began, but Thomas put up his hand.
“Please. I can’t think straight with you three here.” He softened his voice. “I know what you are feeling. I feel it as well. But I promise you I will find Emma and bring her back unharmed. You have my solemn vow.”
“But…” Once more Bella tried to speak.
“No.” Jesus, his voice sounded horrible. “Can’t you see I’m on the precipice of hell here? I need you three to leave this to us.”
Thomas’s eyes followed the women until the door closed behind them.
Once the men were alone they plotted and planned their strategy. If things went according to plan, Mr. Webster would not know what hit him.
***
Emma didn’t expect to wake up tied to a bed, her mouth stuffed with a foul-tasting rag, her head aching from the chloroform used to drug her – again. What had gone wrong? She pushed her mind through the fog and tried to remember what had happened.
The note from her papa’s barrister… Surely he would not have done this? But who else could it be? Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the small room. Unfortunately, seeing better did not provide any clues other than she was alone.
Oh, God, please, please help her. This time her abductor did not take an innocent child. She was a grown women and she knew what could be done to her.
Thomas, please save me.
Emma pulled against her bonds, but both hands and legs were tied to bedposts with rope. The unnatural position of being spread like this had her heart pounding in panic. She was utterly defenseless. Her skirts were up over her knees. One side of her dress was pulled down exposing one of her breasts. Bile threatened to rise up her throat and she fought it down. Indeed, if she vomited she would die by choking to death because of the rag stuffed in her mouth.
She tried to concentrate to see if she was sore between her legs.
Had her abductor violated her body? Emma didn’t believe he had. She said a quick prayer of thanks to God for that.
Even so, what would become of her? What did the man want? As much as she needed these answers she did not want to come face to face with her abductor. Not yet anyway. Not until she’d come up with a plan.
Emma tried to be optimistic. A plan of attack… How could she come up with a plan of attack tied to bedposts? Her body twisted and turned as she yanked against her bonds, managing to do nothing but make the knots tighter and the ropes bite into her flesh more.
No, no, no, not again. Her desperate mind screamed her denial as she tossed her head from side to side, causing the bedsprings to creak. Oh, dear God. The door squeaked open and a thin, middle-aged man carrying a candelabrum swayed into the room.