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Angelique sat across from her, eyes glittering with malice. Her dark hair was sleeked back into a ruthlessly tight bun, pinned at her nape. She wore a chambermaid’s uniform, down to the white apron. Only the cap was missing. And the mussy, red hair.

At once Anna understood. Angelique and the stooped, wild-haired maid were one and the same.

“Ah. She’s awake,” came the woman’s caustic voice.

Gooseflesh spread over her limbs. She closed her eyes briefly and repressed a shudder. Angelique had found her, drugged her and somehow taken her from the inn. But why?

A more urgent question surged to the forefront of her mind, bursting from her lips with a croak. “Where is my grandmother?”

A malevolent grin spread over the woman’s face, chilling Anna to the bone .

“Where is my grandmother?” She aped. “Look at you, in your fine clothes, your wealthy grandmother in tow, staying at the best inn money can buy. You must think yourself very clever, indeed.” Rage infused every word.

Anna’s pulse raced at the venom directed at her. She concentrated on schooling her breathing and remaining calm. She needed answers and to get those, she sensed she must do nothing to inflame Angelique further.

“Not particularly, no. I have no idea what you want with me. I never did.”

Her meek tone appeared to mollify Angelique, slightly.

She leaned back as if preparing to share a long tale. “No, you wouldn’t, would you? Stupid child. I had it all planned, every detail worked out to the letter. All I had to do was get you married off to Bolton—which I did,” she hissed and one of her hands fisted before her.

“I was so close. Then he let you slip away, the fool. After all I did, all I sacrificed, putting up with your father, pawing at me, putting up with you underfoot, nearly two years of playing the perfect little wife. I didn’t even realize how much money was on the table ’til he died and I uncovered a virtual treasure. ”

As she and Caden had surmised, Angelique had, indeed, discovered Anna’s inheritance after her father’s death.

“Then Bolton, in his altitudes as usual, let you slip away. We looked for you. Two more years passed! Finally we find you and your dear sweet Grandmother thinks to make a deal with Bolton and take everything I worked for from me. Well, she can think again. Bolton does what I say. We’ll take her money and yours. ”

Anna swallowed and risked posing the question burning through her again. “She’s…she’s all right, isn’t she? ”

Angelique gave Anna a sly look. “She’s fine. For now. I left her sleeping like a baby, watched over by my very good friend. You remember Brutus?”

Anna did. He’d been one of Bolton’s so-called footmen. Not only had the man looked ridiculous in livery, with his massive chest and boxers’ hands, Anna had never seen him accomplish any task save for keeping a watch over her. She’d known even then he was hired muscle.

“What do you mean, for now?”

Angelique smiled, seeming pleased by Anna’s grasp of the pertinent facts.

“Since Bolton can’t be trusted to manage this thing, I decided to take charge.

We’re going to meet up with him shortly, and the two of you will consummate your marriage.

You’ll do it, or the old lady falls asleep and never wakes up.

Just like your father, ” she finished, her tone low and menacing.

Just like her father? Dear God, had the woman murdered her father? Her sweet, gentle father? For what? For money? And now she threatened to do the same to her grandmother.

Fear unlike anything she’d ever known washed through her—and beneath that, a deep, simmering anger ignited.

“Do we have an agreement?”

Anna stared.

“Do we?” Angelique screeched.

“Assuming I do what you say, how do I know you’ll keep your word?”

She pursed her lips. “You’ll have to trust me. And, if you can’t do that, there’s also this.” She slipped her hand into the pocket of her apron, and pulled out a small pistol, which she aimed directly at Anna.

** *

Caden had anticipated many scenarios. In one, Anna welcomed him with open arms. In another, she slapped his face and told him she never wanted to see him again. Another still, she listened to him with cool disdain and sent him packing.

In none of his visions did she outright ignore him. And yet, he’d been standing outside her guest chamber knocking for several minutes. She refused to utter a simple “Go away,” much less open the door. He had attracted many a stare. Soon, management would probably demand he leave.

He contemplated that—for about five seconds.

She wanted to make a point? Fine, he’d leave her in peace if that was what she truly wished. But she could bloody well tell him to his face.

The Black Swan’s proprietor had barely been persuaded to reveal Anna’s and Lady Wentworth’s chambers, even after Caden presented the latter’s hand written note. He suspected the man would outright refuse to unlock Anna’s door for him and risk the wrath of the dowager duchess.

However, convincing a chambermaid was right up his alley.

He strolled casually toward the chamber into which he’d witnessed a maid entering minutes ago. He pasted on his most debonair smile and rapped twice on the door jamb.

Minutes later he and the blushing maid approached Anna’s door, only to have it crash open.

Instead of Anna, he found an ashen-faced Lady Wentworth. She clung to the door like a lifeline and gazed up at Caden with terror-filled eyes.

A terrible sense of foreboding hit him like a punch to the gut. “Where’s Anna?” He demanded, not bothering with the niceties.

“Caden, thank God you’re here. They took her. You’ve got to get to them—before it’s too late. ”

With a hell of a lot more calm than he felt, Caden extracted what information he could from Lady Wentworth and a handful of the hotel staff.

A chambermaid had delivered a breakfast cart, stolen from another maid whom she had incapacitated and left bound in an empty guest chamber. The food or tea had been laced with a sleeping agent. Lady Wentworth recalled feeling unaccountably woozy. She woke to find Anna gone.

It had to be Angelique behind the abduction.

Other servants witnessed an unknown chambermaid and a brawny looking man exiting the building, lugging a very heavy looking laundry cart onto a carriage.

The servants claimed they believed the cart was filled with toxic items needing to be disposed of through burning, something which apparently happened on occasion.

Personally, Caden assumed the large man’s so-called menacing air lent itself to the pair departing unquestioned.

By Caden’s best guess, they left just prior to his arrival on scene.

“By God,” he muttered to himself. “I saw them. I saw them leaving.”

He’d ridden right past them when he turned onto the hotel’s access road.

He’d been too caught up in his own worries to give more than a passing notice, but upon reflection, hadn’t he witnessed the oddity of an ancient carriage, its insignia covered by a black tarp, driven by, not a groom, but a beast of man dressed in servant’s garb?

“Which way did they go?” Lady Wentworth demanded, her frail hand grasping at his sleeve.

He had not seen the direction they turned. But he knew. They would be heading to Lord Bolton’s residence. It was the only place that made sense. Angelique and Lord Bolton intended to double cross Lady Wentworth .

If they hurt Anna, it would all be his fault. Him and his stupid, worthless pride. If only he’d told her how he felt. If only he begged her to stay and not to leave him. If he’d found a way to convince her, she would be safely ensconced in Chissington Hall at this very moment.

He met Lady Wentworth’s eyes, his insides hard as forged steel.

“They’re en route to London. They’ll be heading straight for Bolton’s place. Send word to Chissington Hall. Tell my brother to meet me at Lord Bolton's London address.”

It was time to go get his princess.