He hadn’t even acknowledged my questions. The man was truly mad. I needed to keep him occupied; it was my only chance. I gave a jerk of a nod while I continued to work on that one loop of rope that still pinned my wrists together.
“Your father was a handsome man. Tanned with dark hair and a fine physique. He brought some breeding stallions to your father. That’s how he and your mother met. Their affair was brief but passionate. I believe she even thought of leaving the estate and going to Spain with him. But in the end, he abandoned her, and she died with a broken heart. Poor dear.”
My fingernails dug at the knot, and even though they bent at painful angles, I would not give up. “How do you know all of this?”
He lowered down in front of me again. “Because, my dear, Lord Whitfield, your stepfather, moved us into the estate before your mother died. And I watched your mother and your real father fuck in the stables. Naturally, I told my mother about it.”
He grinned, as if proud of himself. I was running out of time. I knew it, could feel it. My chance at escape was slipping away, much like the blood that slid from my wrists and soaked the rope.
He lifted the knife, the blade gleaming in the lamplight. “And your father, he punished your mother, just as he should.”
Punished her how? I wanted to ask, but didn’t dare. I didn’t want to know, and I didn’t want to give him any ideas. The rope was slipping, I could feel it. Just a few more minutes. Just a few…
“Now,” he snapped. “I tire of the many questions. Are you ready, dear Evangeline, to know what lovely things I have in store for you?”
Chapter Seven
Gabriel
“You’re sure?”
James nodded. “She has to be here. If not here, the dowager will know where.”
I didn’t want to think about how much time we’d wasted traveling to the outskirts of London if he was wrong. Truth was, Ginny could be anywhere. The fear that ate at me left me panicking and terrified. Perhaps it was the universe punishing me. Mayhap I deserved it.
I had everything I could ever dream of wanting. I’d had a title. I finally had money. But it didn’t matter. Because there was one thing that you couldn’t scheme, lie, steal or even purchase: love. Only Ginny could offer that gift.
“We’re here,” Whitfield muttered.
He looked uneasy and furious all at once. There was no affection between these brothers and their stepmother, and it was obvious why. We slid off our mounts, and handed the reins to a footman who rushed down the steps.
“Keep them here, ready to go,” I snapped. “We won’t be staying long.”
“Yes, my lord.”
We hurried up the steps. The door opened even before we knocked. There was no butler, only a stout woman who stood there waiting, as if she’d been expecting us. Every minute that ticked by felt like an hour. She could be hurt, calling out for me, desperate…
“The dowager is in the sitting room. Follow me.”
The woman waddled away. My furious gaze was pinned to her back. Was this the woman Ginny had hit with the candlestick? The fury that snaked through me was cold and blinding. Hell, I wished I had a candlestick or two now. The entire place reeked of desperation and darkness. She’d lived here for nine months. My hands curled.
“In here.”
We swept into a sitting room. The older woman was seated on a chair near the hearth, a tea setting on the small table before her. I’d seen her only a time or two in passing; but never had I thought her to be a monster. But evilness, apparently, could be anywhere, even in the mind of a fifty-year-old mother.
She smiled up at Whitfield, as if truly delighted to see him. “Why, how lovely of you to visit.”
“Where is she?” I demanded.
“And lord Chambers. I don’t know if we’ve ever been properly introduced.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, you’re not actually Lord Chambers, are you?”
My hands fisted. I had to resist the urge to reach out and shake the answers from the woman. If I touched her, I would kill her. If I killed her, I would get no answers. “Where is my fiancé?”
“Fiancé?” She slid Whitfield a glance. “And do you approve of this man for your dear sister?”