“He wasn’t there, Your Grace. I decided that between the two of them, the chit was worth more.”
“I don’t pay you to make decisions. I pay you to follow orders.”
The voices crept into Tabetha’s consciousness, but her eyes were too heavy to open. Where was she? Was she laying on a floor?
She tried taking a breath through her mouth but couldn’t. She was gagged! Forcing air through her nostrils, she fought the rising panic as a door slammed nearby.
She was in Culpepper’s carriage. She’d recognize the stench anywhere.
A violent lurch and they began to move. Where was he taking her? Fully awake now, she opened her eyes. Even in the darkness, she recognized the tall heel on his shoes. She glanced up.
“I’m sorry to have to resort to all of this, but you gave me no choice.” A beam of moonlight slanted through a window just enough so she could see the duke’s features.
“Mmmph.” She squirmed, feeling helpless and scared. Every time she tried to breathe through her mouth and then couldn’t, fear shot through her.
“You don’t like that, do you?” he chastised her and then chuckled. “It would have come in handy on our journey up. Nothing more annoying than a chit who doesn’t know when to shut up. So much talk about nothing.” He clucked his tongue and turned to stare out one of the windows.
How had she ever thought she could marry this horrid creature?
A tear slipped out from beneath her lashes. Her arms ached behind her, and her eye was throbbing. But she would not lose heart.
Stone would come for her. After all they had been through, he wasn’t about to let Culpepper take her now.
She inhaled a steady stream of air through her nostrils.
Stone will save me.
She exhaled.
He will come after us.
Inhale.
But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s had enough of me?
But he’d chased after her even when she’d been nothing but an annoyance to him.
Besides, he loved her now. He had to come!
“Promise not to scream if I take it off?” Culpepper was watching her again, and she nodded slowly.
Bending down, he fumbled with it and then it loosened. Tabetha spat it out and drew in several gulping breaths.
“No screaming, now. You gave me your word. Although your word isn’t worth all that much, now is it?”
Because she was the one who had started all of this. She had flirted with him. She had been flattered by his attentions and then accepted a most unacceptable proposal.
“I’m sorry.” So very sorry! But not because she’d inconvenienced this villain—because she’d been so stupid.
“What did you do with Archimedes? Did you sell him?”
She remembered how Archie had taken to Charley. Would the duke be willing to let her go if he thought he had a chance at getting Archie back?
“If you turn us around, I can take you right to him. He was under the bed. I would have told your men if they hadn’t gagged me.” Of course, this was only a ruse, she’d never put dear Archie in his clutches again.
“Idiots.” But he didn’t pound on the roof as she’d hoped.
“My wrists hurt. Could you untie them?” She did her best to sound helpless and forlorn. Which… truth be told, wasn’t totally inaccurate.
“Why should I trust you not to fight me and then try to get away?”
Why indeed? She bit her lip. “Because we’re in the middle of nowhere. And your men are right outside. I promise, I won’t do anything stupid.” She forced a sobbing sound. “It hurts.” Another sob. “Please.”
“Stop your blathering.” He leaned forward again, sighing heavily as though making the effort to untie her was a great annoyance. But feelings returned to her hands as the ropes loosened behind her.
Partially free now, she pushed herself up to sit. She fisted and then opened her tingling hands in front of her. It was a start, but she remained at the duke’s mercy. The carriage bumped and rolled along. How far could they have traveled already?
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“London first. I’ll need to speak with your brother again.”
“Ransom?”
“Oh, no, my dear. Because that would imply some sort of wrongdoing on my part. I intend to collect what remains of your dowry.”
“But I’m already married!”
“Did you think I couldn’t convince the anvil priest to strike it from his records?”
“We still have the original certificate.”
“You mean the one Mr. Spencer kept in his jacket pocket? The same jacket he left draped over a chair in a public taproom?” He patted his