Page 31 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke

I t was the second stop to change horses.

The sounds reaching Thea as she lay tied and bundled up on the carriage seat were unmistakeable.

Ostlers shouted orders at lads, there was the jerk as the traces were released and the new team backed in, the clatter of hooves on stone and the background noises of a busy coaching inn.

Two changes, twenty miles and a main route , she decided .

A groom had blown his horn for the gates, which meant that this was a turnpike road, and the previous inn had been bustling too.

Not, then, some country track leading to goodness knew where. If they knew how she had been taken, perhaps the carriage could be traced. If she managed to escape, then it would be relatively easy to discover where she was.

If…if…

She told herself to be positive. If she gave up, there was no chance of escape unless her captors were incredibly careless, but if she stayed alert, ready to take any opportunity, then there was hope.

The carriage lurched into motion again and Thea drew in as much breath as she could, wriggled her fingers to try to keep the blood flowing and set herself to follow the route.

* * *

‘I believe that Randolph Linton has taken Lady Thea,’ Hal said after introducing Dudley to the small group in the drawing room. ‘He received Dudley’s letter informing him that he was about to be called to account for his behaviour towards Miss Dudley and decided to take out insurance.’

‘But how does that help him?’ Lady Wiveton asked, looking confused.

‘If he compromises her, he could reasonably hope that she would have to marry him, and he would then find himself protected by being the son-in-law of a prominent earl. Or, failing that, he could hold her until we somehow bought off or otherwise dissuaded Dudley from calling him out.’

‘I’d have thought it simpler for him to refuse to meet Dudley. Disgraceful, of course, and downright cowardly, but it is not as though he has much reputation to lose,’ Porchester objected.

‘I told him that I would horsewhip him to within an inch of his life if he did not agree to an honourable meeting,’ Dudley said.

‘Ah. Yes, I can see that a sneaking little wretch like that would try some scheme to wriggle out of doing the honourable thing in that case,’ the Earl said.

Gibson entered and announced with a discreet cough, ‘Some positive news, Your Grace. David the under-footman found a bright crossing lad who saw that team turn north on Audley Street. He had the sense to tail a cab to follow from junction to junction. It headed north again out of London on the Edgware road.’

‘Excellent. Make sure he is rewarded for his initiative, Gibson. Well, gentlemen?’

‘I’ll follow on horseback,’ Hal said. The relief of knowing what had happened, what they were dealing with, was almost physical. ‘That will be more flexible. When I find her I can hire a carriage to bring her back.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Porchester said.

‘And so will I,’ Dudley said in a tone that would not take no for an answer. ‘My horse is here.’

‘Gibson, have the two best of my son’s mounts saddled and tell three of the grooms to mount up also.

He keeps his horses here, says he’s not got enough stabling at his London house,’ the Dowager added as the butler strode out, sounding critical and as though it was not her doing that her son was displaced.

‘Oh, and you’ll want pistols,’ she announced. ‘Come with me, my husband had a fine collection of weapons.’

Fifteen minutes later, adequately armed to fight a small war, and with a road book in a saddlebag, the three of them rode out of the mews, the grooms at their heels, just as the Wivetons’ empty town coach rattled in.

‘We’ve missed the Earl,’ Hal said, relieved not to have to explain it all over to a furious and anxious father. The Dowager was the best person for that. ‘Ready? Then let’s catch the bastard.’

* * *

The next time the carriage came to a halt, Thea heard the door open and she was lifted into a man’s arms. A big, strong man, she realised, deciding that struggling was not going to work.

The cloak was tucked around her and the hood pulled over her face and then she was being carried in the open.

They passed through a door, she thought, and unmistakeably up some stairs.

Booted feet hit bare boards, she heard another door open and then she was dumped casually, and painfully, on what felt like a lumpy sofa. The cloak was pulled away and, to her huge relief, the gag removed, by, she saw with horror, but no real surprise, Randolph Linton.

‘Untie me,’ she said, thrusting her bound hands towards him.

He shrugged and did so, dropping to one knee to free her ankles. Thea kicked him hard in the chest and he rolled backwards onto a thin carpet, swearing.

The big bruiser of a man who had been standing by the door started forward, but Linton gestured him back as he regained his feet. ‘I’m sure you feel better for that,’ he said, dusting down his coat tails.

‘I would feel better for the use of the privy, a drink of water and an explanation of your conduct, in that order,’ Thea said tightly.

‘Use that.’ Linton pointed at a small door. ‘Ned, order lemonade for the lady, ale for me. Then wait outside.’

He turned and regarded Thea with a smirk. ‘There’s no lock on that door and no window, so don’t try anything foolish.’

Thea stumbled to her feet, wincing at the pain as blood flowed back after the tight bindings. She walked, with as much dignity as she could manage, to the door, taking her time, trying to look more shaky than she felt, scanning the room for weapons as she went. There was nothing.

The little room held a washstand and a chamber pot and that was all.

The door had opened outwards and had no lock.

She would just have to take the chance that Randolph was not bent on humiliating her.

Hastily, Thea used the facilities, drying her face and hands on the strip of towel that lay on the washstand, then explored the room, which was no bigger than a large cupboard.

The utensils were of cheap pottery, none of them had the weight to do anyone much damage and the strip of towel was no use for anything.

She turned to go out, steadied herself on the washstand and noticed how rickety it was.

One leg had broken and had been repaired simply with string to lash it back together.

Thea put the basin and ewer on the floor and untied the string to find that the broken leg had splintered, and amongst the broken fragments of wood was a dagger-like piece about seven inches long.

Cautiously she wriggled it into the outside of her right garter. If she had to snatch it out again she would probably be left with severe scratches, but she could do a lot of damage with that piece of wood.

Once she had roughly tied up the washstand again she went out to find a glass and a jug of lemonade on the table.

Randolph sat opposite with a tankard in front of him.

There was no sign of the big man, but presumably he was outside the door.

No escape that way, even if she could overpower Linton.

How high was the window above the ground?

But she was still feeling decidedly shaky and it would probably be a good thing to sit and drink and allow her wrists and ankles to recover a little. It would do no harm to allow Randolph to believe she would obey him, either.

The lemonade helped a lot. Now her mouth and throat no longer felt like flannel filled with gravel, she could try to see what she could learn.

‘You are very relaxed. How far have we come from London?’

‘We are just outside St Albans.’ He took a long swig from the tankard.

‘But still on the turnpike?’ The sounds from outside, and the size of the room, made her sure this was a coaching inn and not one on a side road.

‘Yes.’ There seemed to be no hesitation in telling her where they were, which seemed strange. She must have looked puzzled because he added, ‘I have no objection to being found with you. It will be some time tomorrow morning, I imagine.’

‘You expect to be found? No, you want to be found.’

‘Exactly. You will have been nicely compromised and will have no option but to marry me.’

Thea snorted.

‘You may not care if you are ruined—not that I believe that—but your father will certainly insist on marriage. It is not as though I am a groom or the dancing master. The Lintons are good blood.’

‘But not good character,’ Thea shot back.

Marry Randolph Linton? Never.

‘You seem to make a habit of trying to ruin unmarried ladies. Your attempt on the daughter of a rural dean was somewhat unambitious, was it not?’

‘Good God, I didn’t want to marry the chit. She was just an amusement. Damnably dull in rural Yorkshire, believe me.’

‘I would not believe you if you told me the sky was blue,’ Thea retorted. ‘So why not try to behave like a reasonable human being and court someone during the Season? You might find someone deluded enough to put up with you, although I must say, I’d pity them.’

‘It turns out that the Deanery girl has a fire-breathing brother who is hard on my heels. I may be heir to a title with blood that goes back to the Conqueror, but we have no influence, no connections. You have. A rural nobody threatening your husband is going to be sent packing.’

‘You think so? If you are the son-in-law in question, I imagine Papa would be out there urging on the aggrieved brother. He would probably offer to be his second.’

‘Yes? Your husband being involved in a duel so soon after the wedding is going to cause considerable embarrassment to your family.’

‘My family would probably pay a marksman to give your opponent extra lessons beforehand,’ she retorted. ‘Ending up as a widow would not be so bad, now I think of it. Why not act like a gentleman and accept his challenge?’

Randolph drained his tankard. ‘A lot of nonsense, these so-called affairs of honour,’ he said dismissively, but his eyes shifted away from hers.