Page 5 of The Untamed Duke (The Secret Crusaders #3)

CHAPTER 5

T he Private Diary of Sophia Hawkins

An abduction.

Would the Duke of Foxworth dare such a crime? Of course, his plan may still involve Priscilla’s journal, yet I cannot discount a far more nefarious scheme. The offense fits his innuendos, and most certainly his personality. Yet who would he abduct? Not Priscilla, certainly. She has confirmed her delicate condition, and even Foxworth wouldn’t dare abscond with a pregnant woman. With his formidable build, my brother would make a difficult target. Yet Foxworth is a giant of a man, tall, strong and powerful, giving him at least a chance of being successful.

I will stop whatever he has planned.

Anticipation sizzled in the air.

Excited chatter, glittering guests and glowing torches accentuated the masterpiece that was the Stanton ball, in an evening filed with mystery and expectation. It was one of the premier events of the season, in a massive ballroom decorated in silver, gold and dozens of crystal chandeliers. Gemstones adorned luxurious furnishings, curved bannisters and, of course, the exquisitely garbed ton.

The festivities spilled into an enchanting garden of roses, lilies and other exotic blossoms. They were a tour de force of color and artistry, prize-winning blooms the Stanton ladies nurtured into greatness. The sky was a breathtaking twilight blue, the air cool and temperate, carrying the scent of roses and the melodic strum of the orchestra playing under a towering oak.

Sophia fashioned a serene smile, as she smoothed down her silky dress. It shone silver in the moonlight, with tiny sewn-in jewels sparkling like the stars above. For most, the anticipation was about the event, yet for her it was about something, or rather someone, else.

Foxworth.

“Take care, tonight,” Bradenton whispered in her ear. “As you know, your typical chaperones are away.”

She waved her hand, not mentioning their absence was fate’s fortune. Her mother and aunt had taken holiday at Bath, leaving her without their watchful surveillance. They had invited her, yet her negative response had been all but a formality. She would not leave Bradenton alone to face Foxworth’s wrath. “I shall.”

“And I will be watching, of course. Stay away from Foxworth.”

She made no attempt to hide her smile. “Of course.” Yet Edmund’s focus would be divided between his wife and the endless attention his popularity ensured. Leaving her to completely ignore his order.

How else was a sister to protect her brother?

Foxworth was planning to abduct Edmund. The more she considered the evidence, the more probable, or certain, it seemed. Likely, he just wanted to scare him, yet it was not impossible more sinister aims motivated him. She’d considered telling Edmund, yet she had no proof. If he discovered she’d been alone with Foxworth, he’d relegate her to her chambers for the rest of the season, possibly her life.

Unacceptable. Tonight she would stop Foxworth’s revenge, once and for all. “I’d like to greet a few friends. I shall see you later.”

His lips tightened, but he nodded. “Be careful.”

“I’ve already promised it.” She tapped his shoulder with her silvery fan. “I’m not going in immediate search of Foxworth.”

His eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, but he gave another nod. Of course she wasn’t searching for Foxworth immediately. First, she would fetch some refreshing fruit punch.

Then she would find Foxworth.

She greeted numerous friends as she made her way to the refreshment table, threading past ladies in ethereal gowns, men in formal attire. Heavy perfumes tangled, casting notes of fruits, wood, leather and spirits, as their wearers conversed, drank and laughed in the complex social scene. Although she was of age, she had not officially come out, and she treasured these precious months free from the clutches of the marriage mart. While she must eventually wed, no man had yet inspired a trip to the altar.

For just a moment, the image of an untamed duke rose.

The punch was cool and delicious, poignant with the taste of crisp apples, sweet strawberries and just a hint of something stronger. The hair on the back of her neck stood.

He’d found her.

Even from across the garden, his gaze pierced her. It was a physical force, a challenge. All around him, people engaged in conversation, their eyes alight with interest. Did they not see his divided focus?

She swallowed.

Then she straightened. He was trying to intimidate her. He wouldn’t approach her now, with her brother staring daggers across the crowd, but Edmund couldn’t watch her all night. When business snagged her brother, she would confront Foxworth and convince him to give up his scheme.

Time to hunt the hunter.

The night was perfect.

For an abduction, that was.

Better circumstances could not have been planned. Sophia’s mother and aunt had left on holiday, a fortunate circumstance. While he wished to aggrieve Bradenton, he had no desire to cause her mother and aunt undeserved worry. By the time they returned, his retaliation should be complete.

Everything was set. He would lure Sophia deep into the gardens, to the carriage in which they would flee. He’d arranged the letter to reach Bradenton an hour after they departed. By the time the duke realized Sophia was gone, she would be well out of reach.

It took all his control to appear unaffected, to greet the countless lords and ladies who approached. The title of duke was a powerful magnet, and he remained aloof, yet not unkind. Like it or not, this was the society he must now navigate, and despite his misgivings, not everyone was bad. Once he was finished with Bradenton, he would master the ton, and fulfill his duty, including taking a wife.

Yet as always, a single lady invaded his mind.

Somehow he made it through conversation, and then dinner, where he was seated next to an effervescent and eager young debutante. She was lovely and sweet, perfectly poised for the role of duchess, yet his attention kept wandering to a certain golden-haired beauty who sent a thousand surreptitious glances.

Finally, it was time.

The event was no less boisterous with dinner concluded. Their bellies full, their senses invigorated by copious amounts of alcohol, the guests talked louder, laughed harder, danced poorer. No one noticed as he slipped into the gardens, embarking on a final sojourn to confirm the carriage’s readiness. Then he would return…

And seize her.

Kenneth strode through the lantern-lit gardens, nodding at various well-wishers, stopping for none. The crowd thinned as he delved further from the townhome, the deep scent of oak replacing perfumes, starlight replacing candlewick, as the edge of the garden neared. A light thumping sounded behind him, different than the occasional rustling of night creatures, and he stiffened.

He was being followed.

Subtly, he shifted his body, searching the shadows with his peripheral vision. Someone was there, someone petite, lithe and absolutely lovely. He allowed a slow, predatory smile.

Sophia.

Clearly fate approved of his journey. His huntress was alone, picking her way next to the brush, trying to blend into the foliage. Yet her efforts were in vain, as she stood out against the wood like a diamond among sand. What was her game? Did she think to confront him, demand he cease his plan? If so, she was about to be surprised.

Sophia was aiding in her own capture.

Following a lord through a deserted garden was:

A. Surprisingly exciting

B. Liable to get her unwittingly betrothed

C. Foolhardy, dangerous and generally a bad idea

D. All of the above

All through the night, Edmund had watched her, even eschewing cards to lord over her. It was enough to drive a sister mad, yet she couldn’t demand he leave so she may confront his enemy. Finally, she informed him she required the ladies’ retiring room, the one place he absolutely could not follow. He’d muttered something about blasted retiring rooms, yet could scarce forbid her from attending to the necessaries. He would be furious if he knew of her duplicity, but she hadn’t a choice. Foxworth could commence his plan any moment.

Now she slipped through the nighttime garden, delving as close to her quarry as she dared. Majestic trees soared above her, their leaves rustling in the shadowscape. An owl hooted in the distance, startling her, as the wind blew cooler. She wrapped her arms around herself, looked down for just a moment.

It was enough.

“This is convenient.”

She gasped, pivoted to a man towering over her. How had Foxworth moved so quickly? Now he stood before her, larger than life, crossing muscle-ridden arms across his chest. He seemed more massive than normal, cunning, calculating, domineering. His midnight clothing blended into the darkened world, he a part of its dangerous power.

He edged nearer. “You saved me a great deal of time and effort.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She pushed forward, sidestepping him. “How have I done that?”

“You’ll learn soon enough.” He moved in step with her, not allowing her to increase the distance between them. His voice was low, yet held all the power he never relinquished. “First we will talk of your behavior. Once again, you have risked yourself.”

“Perhaps, yet you are the only threat.” She stood tall. “Am I in danger from you, Your Grace?”

“It depends.” His voice was low, powerful. “Are you speaking of physical danger?”

It seemed the most likely, out here in the deserted garden, with only the night creatures as chaperones. Yet while an objective viewer may interpret physical peril, instincts clamored otherwise. “I do not believe you pose me physical harm.”

He nodded immediate confirmation. “I would never harm a lady.”

“Yet you would use one to gain revenge.”

He did not deny it. “Which makes your presence all the more appalling. Were it any other lady, I would add surprising. Yet you are equal parts brave and reckless, a dangerous combination.”

She would take it as a compliment. “We never finished our conversation in the library. I know your book was not mere leisure reading, just as I know you stole the journal.”

A flash of confusion passed through his eyes. “I know of no journal.”

His response almost put his culpability in doubt. Almost. “I refer to Priscilla’s journal, and I do not think you’ve taken it; I am certain.”

“You are mistaken.”

Impossible. “Your denials are meaningless. Will you also attempt to convince me you don’t plan on abducting my brother?”

He shrugged mildly. “I have no plans to kidnap the duke.”

“Admit it,” she hissed. The distance she fought for no longer mattered, as she advanced on him. “You’re planning something, and I want to know what it is.”

“Very well.”

Surprise froze her. She swallowed a breath of cool night air. “You will finally share your plans for revenge?”

“What I meant—” He leaned in. “Is that I am indeed planning something.”

A cool wind blew, causing her to shiver. She rubbed her bare arms. “Does it have to do with the journal?”

“As I said, I have no journal.” He lowered his head. “I have never lied to you.”

She parted her lips. He was a creature of the night, blending in perfectly with the shadows. Yet, although he hid secrets, to her knowledge he had never uttered an outright lie, seemingly more content to conceal information rather than provide false oaths. Could he be telling the truth?

“Why is this missing book so important?”

She brushed by a sea of emerald leaves, their velvety surface tickling her skin. A hidden thorn pricked her, and she drew back. Such was this duke, smooth on the outside, concealed danger within. If he was telling the truth, she would not provide information. “Even if you don’t have the journal, you are planning something. Do you swear it is not an abduction?”

A mysterious light flashed in his eyes. “Who said I wasn’t planning an abduction?” He gave a slow, dark smile. “In fact, I’d say it’s already begun.”

That was the moment all became clear.

She was his target.

How had she not realized the truth? She stepped back, even as he moved forward. Why would he take her brother when someone far easier to abduct had all but offered herself? Foxworth said he would take something away from Edmund.

She had walked right into her own kidnapping.

Yet if he thought he could steal her, he would face a fight as he’d never seen. Somehow her voice emerged calm, with only the slightest waver betraying the unease of being a party to one’s own kidnapping. “Why?”

“For revenge, of course.” His eyes blazed. “To take away what he loves most.”

“Take away?” she breathed. “What do you plan to do with me?”

He did not respond with words.

Instead he leapt.

She gasped and dashed back, but he was too quick. He captured her wrist, brought her into the scent of amber and bergamot. Danger surrounded her, locking her in the shadow of the mountain of a man, subject to his heat, the control he stole. Fury boiled her blood, tangling with other inexplicable emotions. “Let go!”

“I cannot do that, at least not yet.” Yet a gleam in his eyes belied the words, a moment of uncertainty. Was he unsure of when he was going to release her?

If he was going to release her?

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Let go, or I’ll scream,” she hissed. “Someone will rescue me.”

“Perhaps. But you’re not going to scream.”

She was too stunned to resist, even as he pulled her forward, as she brushed against solid muscles. A night bird squawked in the distance, covering the sound of their movement. If she wanted to call for help, she would have to do it soon, as the edge of the property came into view. Once she delved beyond the guests’ hearing, she would be well and truly abducted. “Why wouldn’t I scream?”

With firm movements, he kept her moving, away from the party, away from safety. She tried to dig her heels into the ground, yet her feet slipped on the dewy grass, and she had to step to avoid falling. With each inch, her chances of freedom dwindled, like the haunting final whispers of a melody. “If you scream, the guests will come running. They will know you were alone in the garden with me.”

Blazes! What had she been thinking? If she wanted to avoid a betrothal, she would have to remain silent. “You won’t get away with this.”

“I already have.” He grasped her closer. “Don’t worry, lass. I meant it when I said no harm would come to you. We’ll simply disappear for a few days, and then return. Think of it as a holiday.”

“A holiday is a choice,” she hissed. “I am a prisoner.” She yanked back on her arm, but he didn’t let go. “You think Edmund is going to let this go? He’ll come for me. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t call you out.”

“He isn’t going to call me out for the same reason you aren’t screaming now. If he does, everyone will know what happened. Once you are safely returned, he will not risk scandal.”

“He would risk it to save me,” she countered. “When he finds me missing, he will tear London apart.”

“Then it is fortunate we will not be in London.”

Her breath hitched. Where was he taking her?

“I left Bradenton a note, to be delivered shortly. I explain that I am taking you for a brief sojourn, and will return you unharmed. I strongly suggested he tell the world you are visiting a relative, which, with your mother on holiday, no one is likely to question. In a few days you will return, and life will go back to normal, with one exception. Bradenton will forever know he failed you.”

“What happens if we are discovered?” she snapped. “I will be ruined, cast with inescapable scandal. Does your quarrel with my brother include me?”

For the first time, he hesitated. “It does not.”

“Yet I am the one most punished by your mechanisms. If we are found, my prospects will be forever lost.”

“That’s not true.” Firmly back in control, his voice deepened. “On the contrary, you will find yourself with a most advantageous match.”

A spark of foreboding flared. She glared at him, even as he ushered her closer to catastrophe. “How can you say that? Most lords would dismiss me out of hand if they discover the truth.”

“You will not need another lord. Despite what you believe, I am a gentleman. If I create scandal, I will rectify it.”

She paused for a heartbeat. “How will you do that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He lifted a single eyebrow, even as he continued forward. The moonlight threaded through the trees, dappled shadows foreshadowing inescapable danger.

“You will be mine.”

She stumbled on a log, but before she could fall, he reached out with impossible speed, bracing her. Now he was entirely too close, propelling her forward, steadying at the same time he secured. The sounds of the street came closer and closer.

“I will never be yours,” she hissed. “No amount of scandal could convince me to accept a suit from you.”

“If we are discovered, you won’t have a choice.” His eyes blazed in the moonlight. “If we are not discovered…” His voice trailed off.

She narrowed her eyes at the unfinished sentence. “Edmund would never force me to marry against my will.”

“If word got out, the scandal wouldn’t just affect you. It would damage your family, even threaten Bradenton’s work in Parliament.”

She would happily accept scandal for her freedom, yet he was not mistaken about the unforgiving ton. Could she truly sacrifice her family to save herself?

“Don’t worry. My plan does not include scandal, only the illusion of it. You will be perfectly safe in my care.”

Sophia tightened. “I am not in your care.”

His resolve was a veritable force. “Do you truly believe that?”

Not even a little.

Ahead, the lush green paths gave way to dark roads, blackened stretches with barely visible lamplights. She continued to resist, yet did not scream. Had she truly felt her life in danger, she would have howled for the world to hear, yet a few days’ adventure was preferable to a lifetime trapped under iron control. “Aren’t you afraid of your own consequences, should your actions be discovered?”

She could feel his shrug. “As a duke, the danger is appallingly low. The ton allows lords shocking transgressions, so long as wrongdoings are corrected.”

“By forcing me to marry you?”

He smiled wickedly. “Precisely.”

The street came closer, the carriages louder, wheels rolling and horses trotting joining the melody of the night creatures. Her heart sped like a runaway horse. If – when – they disappeared into the night, no one would find them.

There would be no escape.