Page 37 of A Duchess to Unravel (The Devil’s Masquerade #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“ O h,” Theo murmured, feeling a pounding in her head.

She moved to place her hand to her forehead, but found it bound. Fear ate through her groggy state, and she worked to open her heavy eyelids. She blinked slowly, tried to sit up as she drew in a breath. The air was sour, tinged with decaying sweetness. It was wrong. All wrong.

The last thing she remembered was taking her sleeping tonic and lying down next to Alistair’s letter, thinking that, perhaps, she should muster the courage to see him one last time.

“There you are,” a deep voice said. “I was starting to worry you would not wake up.”

Theo’s eyes snapped open upon hearing the stranger’s voice and found a face she did not know peering down at her.

She tried to move, tried to put more space between him and her, but found herself bound.

So instead, she took a long look around, trying to find any recognition at all in her surroundings.

Rusted metal and decaying wood was all she saw in the high-ceilinged building, and from the old equipment that looked as if it hadn’t been used in decades, she assumed they were in an abandoned factory of sorts.

“Look at me,” the man viciously snarled.

Theo’s eyes shot back to him, and watched as his enraged expression transformed into a twisted smile.

“I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me,” the man said, walking backward to a chair. He sat down, then rested his elbows on his knees. “What would happen if you forgot me.”

Panic welled up within Theo, threatening to overtake her as his words rang in recognition within her mind. Still, she forced it down, knowing she could not fight madness with fear.

“So you did,” she answered calmly. “My deepest apologies, Vulcan.”

Her captor’s face went slack, as if surprised by her answer. Yes, she had remembered. And she could have never imagined that such a bland face would have been hiding behind such an intimidating mask.

He was so…simple. Ordinary. Short, straight brown hair. Muddy brown eyes. Medium build, average height. Nothing in his features stood out, set him apart from anyone else.

Theo licked her dry lips and took advantage of his alarm. She wanted to keep him calm, keep him talking, until her brain was less foggy and she could discover a way out.

“I had been told that you had reached an agreement with my husband,” she said, trying to sound as uncaring as possible. “I suppose it went poorly?”

Vulcan let out a chuckle, the sound of it churning Theo’s stomach.

“It might have gone differently,” he replied, “But your dimwit of a Scot caught the wrong man. It was a valiant effort, though. He was close in at least names. He cast William Upton to the sea. Understandably so, if they predicted the man after you was blackmailing you for financial gain. He’s a gambler. A disgrace to his family.”

“But you are not,” Theo replied quickly. “You are not a disgrace, are you?”

Vulcan’s thin lips set into a grim line.

“No, I am not.” he stated.

Theo nodded in understanding, then made her next move.

“I beg you, good sir, would you help sit me up?” She asked politely. “And tell me more of who you are? I am disgraced by my own ignorance.”

Vulcan’s eyes narrowed, but after a moment he rose from his seat and came toward her.

Theo fought the shivers of disgust that threatened to take over her as he grabbed her shoulders and brought her to a sitting position, but she could not help but screw her eyes shut and turn her head when his hands trailed to her collarbone, and traced a line down her abdomen.

“Such a pretty nightgown,” Vulcan murmured. “I like to imagine that you wore it for me. That some part of you knew that I was coming for you.”

Theo fought to take in an even breath through her slamming heartbeat and forced her eyes open.

“I did have a sense I was not alone,” she forced out, “Even after my husband discarded me.”

Vulcan’s eyes snapped to hers, glittering with rage. “I tried to warn you about him. That you were not his to have.”

“You did,” she agreed quickly, “I should have listened to you that first night. I was foolish. Pray, forgive me. And tell me, please, who it is I truly belong to.”

The hardened expression on Vulcan’s face went slack, and to her surprise, he knelt down and removed the restraints from her ankles. She might not be able to fight yet, but at least now she could run. She just had to wait for the right moment.

“You belong to me,” Vulcan murmured, tracing a fingertip up her barefoot and over her calf.

“My name is William Boyle. I am the Viscount Weavington and your rightful intended.”

This time, Theo could not disguise the shiver of disgust that traveled through her body. But when she looked at William’s face, she plainly saw that he’d taken it for a tremble of pleasure.

“Tell me more,” she implored.

William’s eyes, filled with longing, slowly made their way up her body, pausing briefly at her breasts. By the time he reached her eyes, he looked like a man starved.

“My parents had struck a contract with yours,” he began, his voice full of wonder, “Right before I left for my grand tour. You were younger then, too young to marry yet. I was to spend five years abroad, you see. Seeing the world, apprenticing under different mentors so that when the time came, I would be able to take over my father’s responsibilities with no issue.

I went, eager to learn, but you must know, I spent every night away dreaming of the day I would return to you. My wife. My Theodosia.”

Something hardened in his gaze, and he shot to his feet, towering above her.

“Then when I returned two months ago I learned the worst. That your parents had passed. That your brother had knowledge of this contract and was refusing to honor it. He wanted me to court you. To persuade you to say yes to my proposal.”

He bent down so fast that Theo couldn’t help but flinch as his face came parallel to hers.

“Do you know how shameful that is? How low that made me feel? To know that I had to be like everyone else? You were refusing everyone, refusing to even talk or dance at balls and parties. How was I to persuade a woman so against even the barest of connections?” he ground out.

“I am sorry,” Theo breathed, trying to calm her quickening heartbeat. “I did not know.”

“I thought I would do some research on you,” William went on, reaching out to take hold of one of her curls.

“I found out what you liked. When I discovered you were a member of the Devil’s Masquerade I was beyond thrilled.

You see I learned far more than business strategy during my years abroad.

I discovered the secret pleasures of pain, and when I saw you at the Masquerade, I thought I had an advantage. ”

William sneered as he tugged painfully at Theo’s hair, making her cry out.

“But you dismissed me,” he seethed, wrenching her closer. “You did not even give me a chance to explain who I was!”

“I did not know!” Theo gasped, feeling the strands of her hair near her scalp seethe with pain.

“Because you would not listen,” William growled out.

“I will! I will now, William, I promise,” Theo cried out. “I am sorry. My true husband. My intended, I am so sorry.”

William’s brow smoothed. He loosened his grip on her hair and stood back.

“You are?” he asked, his tone laced with awe.

Theo forced herself to look up at him, even as her stomach threatened to upheave.

“I am,” she pleaded. “I was wrong. So wrong, for not listening to you. You were right.”

For a moment the madness faded from his eyes, and he stared at her with longing again.

He reached for her chin, and it took everything Theo had not to wrench herself away.

“You will be good for me, will you not?” he asked, his tone hopeful as he caressed her face. “You will obey me? Even though you are married to that brutish fool of a Scot?”

Theo nodded quickly.

“I will, just promise you will not hurt him.”

The moment she said her words, Theo knew she made her first and last mistake. Showing she cared for Alistair. William’s grip on her chin hardened, making her hiss in pain, and the madness in his eyes returned.

“Your precious husband will never see either of us again,” he snarled. “He may have your vows, but I will have your body. And once I am done with you, he will never want you again anyway.”

William slammed his lips painfully down hers, but Theo parted her lips just in time and bit viciously down on his bottom lip. He surged away with a roar of pain, and as he straightened, she flung her foot out, catching the sensitive spot of his groin with the hard bone of lower leg.

William doubled forward, coughing and sputtering blood. Theo moved quickly, rearing her knee up to his face and connecting with his nose. An animalistic cry roared from William’s chest as he staggered back and fell. Wasting no time, Theo shot to her bare feet and ran.

“Get back here!” William roared, but Theo ignored him, racing down the first darkened hallway she could find.

Fear barreled through her as she found a dead end, with only a door on either side of the hallway to choose from.

Praying that the one she picked had a lock, she chose the one on the left, opened it, and shut herself in.

Tears welled up in her throat and she whimpered when she turned her back and let her hands run over the door, finding nothing but a knob.

She looked around the darkened room quickly, looking for something, anything, to block the entrance, but all she saw in the dim light was a pile of rusted pipes that stood about to her waist.

Knowing it was her only hope, she raced toward them, and jammed one as best she could beneath the doorknob and the floor, faltering several times as she tried to do so with her hands behind her back.

She was barely able to make the pipe stick in place before something heavy slammed into the other side of the door, and William’s rage-filled commands to come out echoed through the space.

Theo watched, heart racing as the jagged pole kept its balance, even as the pounding persisted.

She continued walking backwards until her back hit a wall and then sunk to the floor.

It was there she felt something jagged plunge into her hand.

She hissed out a breath at the pain, but quickly tampered it, fumbled for the sharp object with wet fingers, and began sawing it against the ropes at her wrist.

“Alistair,” she sobbed, her thoughts now only running toward one person, one salvation, “Please hurry!”