Page 63 of Road Trip With a Rogue
Daisy drew her knees up in front of her and sent him a stony stare. “Oh, he’s rich enough. He’s also not a man to be trifled with. He’ll track you down and see you hanged for this.”
Jem snorted in derision. “’E’ll ’ave to catch us first.”
Alan rose and Daisy tensed, but he only sent his brother a look. “I need to piss. Don’t touch ’er while I’m gone.”
Jem rolled his eyes, but Daisy’s dread increased at the thought of being left alone with him. “I need to piss too,” she said, and Alan laughed at her unladylike language.
“Fine duchess you’d make, with a mouth like that.”
She held up her bound wrists in front of her. “Untie me so I can undo my breeches.”
“I can ’elp you with that,” Jem leered. “Be my pleasure.”
She kept her gaze on Alan. He seemed the lesser of two evils, despite how generous he was with his fists. She widened her eyes and tried to make herself look as pathetic and helpless as possible, no threat at all.
“Please. I swear I won’t try to escape. I don’t even know where we are, or which direction to go.”
Alan gave a sigh and plucked one of her knives from Jem’s hand, ignoring his grumble of protest. Daisy pushed herself to her feet as he crossed the clearing toward her, unwilling to be at a disadvantage by staying seated.
He grabbed her wrists and sliced through the twine bindings with ease—she always kept her knives sharp—and she flexed her fingers to regain some feeling in them.
“Go behind the barn,” he said roughly. “But I warnye, if you try to run, I’ll let Jem ‘ave ye. And ’e won’t be gentle.”
Daisy nodded meekly. “Understood. Thank you, sir.”
Her heart was pounding as she started toward the corner of the little building. She didn’t know what she’d do if her knife wasn’t still in her boot, but even if she had to fight these men with her bare hands, she would. She made a big show of walking slowly, as if she were almost crippled in pain, and raised her voice as she stepped out of sight.
“Still here!” she called, reaching down to check her boot, and her heart gave a leap as she found the familiar solidity of the handle. She had a blade. But when best to use it?
Since she really did need to relieve herself, she did so, squatting awkwardly to avoid the stinging nettles as she kept her ears pricked for Jem. When she was done, she took a quick glance around to see if there was anywhere to hide, but apart from a small stand of evergreens behind the cottage there was nothing but a low stretch of drystone wall trailing off toward the horizon.
She considered trying to climb one of the trees, just to inconvenience her captives, but they’d doubtless just come up after her and not be gentle in tossing her back to the ground.
If she palmed her knife now, it might be noticed. Better to retain the element of surprise. She found a small, sharp rock and concealed it in her hand instead. It would be better than nothing.
She stepped back around the corner of the ruin just in time to see the dark shape of a lone horseman galloping over the crest toward them. Alan reemerged from the trees near the fire, tugging up his breeches, and waved his arm in greeting.
The light was almost completely gone now, and Daisy slipped into the doorway of the cottage, recognizing the third man who’d abducted her, the one they’d called Connor. All three men looked quite similar, with reddish-brown hair and deep-set eyes; they were probably brothers, or kin of some kind.
“Why ain’t she bound?” the new arrival glowered, pointing at Daisy as he slid from his mount.
Jem sent her a scornful look. “Alan knocked the fight out of ’er. And besides, where’s she going to go?”
He indicated their bleak surroundings and Daisy’s spirits dropped as she saw his point. It the fast-fading light she could see no other buildings nearby, no friendly lights that suggested help or habitation. They appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. Still, if she could manage to steal a horse…
“Did you deliver the message?” Alan asked.
Connor spat a glob of phlegm onto the ground. “Weren’t no one to give it to. Aunt Rachel said the duke rode out barely half an hour after us, alone. I went back along the Carlisle road, thinkin’ to find that carriage of ’is, the one we passed before, but it were nowhere to be seen.”
Jem glared at Daisy, as if this was somehowherfault, and she hunched her shoulders and ducked down, trying to look as cowed and unassuming as possible.
The two horses that had pulled the cart had been let loose to graze, but their legs had been hobbled to stop them from straying too far. It would take her too long to untie them to escape.
Damn.
Perhaps she could steal Connor’s horse.
“So now what?” Alan demanded as Connor strode to the fire and stretched his hands out toward the flames. “’Ow are we goin’ to let ’im know we’ve got ’er?”