Page 6 of The Untamed Duke (The Secret Crusaders #3)

CHAPTER 6

J ournal of the Duke of Foxworth:

Unexpected events.

They can destroy even the best-crafted plans, leaving destruction and uncertainty in their wake. Hopefully the plot will work to perfection, with Bradenton thoroughly punished and Sophia unharmed, yet what if matters do not proceed as intended?

If the truth emerged, I would not leave Sophia to ruin’s clutches. I would have no choice but to give her the protection of my title, wealth and name.

Like it or not, she would become mine.

Everything was perfect.

Perhaps too perfect, as if fate had dealt a hand of four aces. If Sophia’s mother’s absence and Bradenton’s ignorance weren’t fortune enough, Sophia had followed him straight into her own kidnapping, already beyond reach of any who might save her. She chose not to scream and summon the world, although that solicited the slightest sliver of disappointment, which he would not explore.

Indeed, all was perfect.

Until a royal flush conquered his hand.

Something was wrong. Every sense sharpened as he slowed his steps, every instinct whispering a warning. Far from the festivities, the music was no longer audible, the only sounds the leaves crunching under his boots and the rolling of distant vehicles. The world was gloom and darkness, away from the grandiose blooms of the ton’s gardens.

Suddenly, three men appeared in the shadows, confirming all his instincts’ warnings. They flanked his carriage, waiting, observing, watching. A gun peeked out behind a coat.

Kenneth slowed. Likely he could take them, yet not with Sophia next to him. She was innocent, and even if she weren’t, he would never endanger a woman’s life. At all costs, she must stay safe.

Even if it cost him his revenge.

“The plan has changed.” He kept his voice low, glancing back at the men. “You must leave.”

She stared at him in shock. “What?”

“Quiet.” The rogues hadn’t seen them yet, and it was vital it remain that way. “Several men are standing by my coach. I fear they have devious intentions.”

“Devious intentions?” She put her free hand on her hip. “You are currently kidnapping me.”

“Yes, but I would never harm you. I cannot say the same for them.”

In the distance, the men bristled. They shouldn’t be able to hear, yet clearly they grew restless. She had to leave now. “Return to the party immediately.”

He released her. The feeling of loss was unexpected, a cold chill replacing the lushness of warm woman. She rubbed her arms, yet made no effort to flee like a reasonable person with an unexpected reprieve from a kidnapping would. “What do they want with us?”

“With me,” he corrected. “There is no time for questions. You must go.”

The woman who had spent the last five minutes demanding her freedom now stood up tall, stuck her pert little nose in the air and announced, “I refuse to leave you to get murdered.”

“You cannot be serious.” He gaped. “Are you afraid I’ll haunt you from beyond?”

“I would not put it past you,” she sniffed.

He stared at her. “Have you lost your mind? There are men out there, dangerous men, and you need to get away. This was not part of the plan.”

“I told you your plan wouldn’t work.”

“My plan was working perfectly. I didn’t know the criminals would show up.”

“Next time you need to plan for contingencies.”

“Perhaps next time you can plan your own kidnapping.”

“Perhaps I will!”

What was happening? Did she wish to be kidnapped? More likely, she sought to save her big brother by giving herself up as the proverbial sacrificial lamb. A woman who would risk herself to save her family…

Now that was a diamond of the first water.

She shrugged. “Perhaps fate is punishing you for trying to kidnap me.”

“It’s not fate,” he ground out. “It’s bad fortune. And you’ll be safe, as long as you go back to the ball where your brother can attempt to watch you. I will address the situation, then I will be happy to resume your kidnapping.”

“That is unacceptable.” The jaunty chin went higher. “You will return with me.”

He opened his mouth. “Did you just invite me to escort you back to the party? After I kidnapped you?”

“ Almost kidnapped.” she corrected. “I’m just trying to be polite. It’s not at all fashionable to leave a lord to be killed.”

For once, he was speechless. The fairer sex was as much a mystery to him as to any man, yet this was beyond the pale. He searched her eyes, amidst her calm expression. And suddenly, the mystery vanished.

She was frightened. She may hide it well, but she could not mask the distress sparking in her eyes, or the fear in her clenched features. Was she so worried about him, she would stay to convince him to leave? “You are the most unusual woman I have ever met,” he murmured. And the bravest and kindest. “Whoever wins the right to care for you will be fortunate indeed.”

For just a moment, something roared at the notion of someone else taking the position.

She. Was. His.

She scoffed. “Even if I am annoyed about the attempted kidnapping, I do not want you harmed. Return to the party with me. We will enter separately, and no one will know we were together. Later we will discuss your antagonism towards my brother, which I believe can be resolved without another kidnapping, attempted or otherwise.”

At any other time her bravery would have impressed him, yet now his only objective was protecting her. As the men paced dangerously near, unease churned, as close to fear as he’d felt in forever. “I will take care of them. Your kidnapping is officially postponed.”

“Postponed?” Even in the darkness, her pinkness was visible. “You cannot do that.”

“I’m rescheduling,” he explained. “To a more convenient time.”

She stomped her foot. “You cannot reschedule a kidnapping.”

“Why not? Flexibility is important in any abduction.” He grasped her shoulder, propelled her in the direction of the party. “How does next Tuesday sound to you? If that doesn’t work, we’ll plan for Thursday after next. The point is, you are leaving.”

Once more she dug in her heels, this time to stop herself from being released.

He would never understand the enigma that was Lady Sophia.

“I do not want to see you killed,” she ground out.

It shouldn’t matter that she cared whether he lived or died, or that she was risking herself to safeguard him, yet somehow it did. He fought the urge to toss her over his shoulder and march back to the party, where he would stake his claim once and for all. “If you do not return now, I will carry you back.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Indeed I would.” Out of the corner of his eyes, the men moved faster, their agitation clear. How soon before they saw them both? “I will make you a deal. If you leave, I will allow you to speak your mind about your brother before I commence my revenge.”

She breathed out. “You will listen to what I have to say?”

He nodded.

She hesitated, her brow furrowing into a little wrinkle. Then she gave a quick nod, clutched her skirts and pivoted. He did not expect the intensity of the relief as she fled into the night.

He stood to his full height. His steps were heavy now, as he tramped toward the men who dared interrupt his plan. “I know you are there. Reveal yourselves.”

The men emerged, large, hostile and armed far heavier than first apparent. They were not ton, not even close, yet powerful in their own right, hailing from the underworld of London. They were the sort of men his father associated with.

He stiffened. Likely, they were the men his father associated with, his so-called colleagues. When he hadn’t accepted their written demands, they’d sought him out. He had underestimated them.

The man in the center was bald, with numerous tattoos and a long scar running along his cheek. He gave a humorless smile. “I am Travis, your father’s business associate. I assume you haven’t received our missives.”

“I received them.” Kenneth smoothed down his coat, confirming the comforting presence of both gun and knife. “Which you must know, since I replied multiple times. Our business is concluded.”

“That is unfortunate.” Travis’ eyes were as soulless as ice. “Because my associates and I don’t want it concluded. We can help each other.”

“I know how you help people.” Kenneth had researched their business when they’d first contacted him. Indeed lucrative, it was not even close to being legal. The damage in its wake was significant . “I am not my father.”

“That is apparent.” Travis sighed, yet the relaxed pose was a ruse, as every instinct insisted he was poised to attack. “I suppose we’ll just have to convince you.”

They were quick…

But he was quicker.

Three men attacked at once. That Kenneth was expecting it gave him an advantage, perhaps a life-saving one, as a massive brute lunged with a serrated knife. Whether his aim was murder or persuasion was unclear, as Kenneth sidestepped just in time, and gave a huge punch to the gut. One down, yet another attacked just as swiftly. Another solid punch, another fallen criminal. Kenneth stalked Travis, the last man standing.

Yet the rogue merely gave a wicked smile. “Do you remember how many of us signed the letters?”

“There were fou–”

The world went black.

She should be dancing.

A nice Cotillion, perhaps, or a scotch reel, with one of her young suitors. If not dancing, she could be enjoying a refreshing glass of fruit punch, or sharing light gossip with her friends. There were many entertaining activities suitable for a young lady of her age and position.

None of them included hiding in the bushes, holding her breath as four dangerous men attacked Foxworth.

Unbelievably, he’d almost had them, despite their advantage in number and weapons. Yet the fourth had surprised him, lunging from the bushes like a rabid coyote. Sophia’s blood had turned cold when he smashed the pistol down on Foxworth’s head, inflicting a knot visible even from afar. It was a lesser form of danger than inserting a bullet into his brain, yet she’d seen what head injuries could bestow.

One didn’t always wake up.

She had to do something. Foxworth may have wicked plans for her brother and definitely planned to kidnap her, yet the thought of him injured and alone was simply unacceptable. He’d shown glimpses of goodness, and the journal proved his grievous misconceptions about Edmund. If he truly believed her brother murdered his father, his thirst for revenge could even be justified.

She could only tell him if he lived.

A shard of fear pierced her stomach, as the men dragged Foxworth into the carriage, his head smashing into each step with a sickening crack. A thousand options flashed, all rife with danger and little chance of success. The smartest action would be to return to the party, seek help. The fact that it would elicit questions, and the inevitable assumption she’d been alone with him, didn’t matter, not if it meant his life. Yet he may already be dead by the time she returned.

She had to do something, and she had to do it now. Only what? Even she wasn’t foolhardy enough to confront four hardened criminals alone. They would laugh off her attempt, and she’d quickly find herself trussed up like Foxworth or worse .

The brutes strode to the horses, preparing to leave. She glanced around, but no one was within sight. If only she wasn’t alone…

She stopped. They didn’t know she was alone.

The plan was dangerous. It was foolhardy. It could backfire spectacularly.

It was her only chance.

“Gentlemen, come quick! They took Foxworth. Bring all the men you can find!”

The criminals looked up sharply at her voice, as they spun around, frantically searching the darkness. She pressed behind the giant oak, hoping she was far enough the guests wouldn’t hear. If anyone saw her, criminal or guest, the consequences would be dire.

One of rogues stepped in her direction. “It’s too dangerous.” The self-identified leader stopped him with a growl. “If we’re caught, it will be the gallows. We’ll finish this later.” Then, all four men turned and fled.

Sophia released a breath of relief, yet she quickly tensed again. The danger was not over. Just because the criminals said they were leaving did not mean they actually would. They could be setting a trap, waiting for her to emerge. The safest option was still to return to the party.

She was never one to take the safe option.

She waited a minute, and then a minute more, yet the night remained quiet. Finally she could delay no longer. She stepped from behind the tree, picking her way across fallen branches, hopping over damp leaves. That no one sprang to capture her was a relief, and a bit of a surprise. Ahead of her the carriage lurched, and she jumped, even as relief flooded her. Foxworth was alive.

The horses whinnied as she reached the black coach. She touched the gleaming side and grasped the door handle. With a deep breath, she pulled it open.

He lunged.

That no one actually touched her was almost an afterthought as she almost fell from the carriage, before she grasped the door. Sharp metal sliced her palms as she hung backwards, gravity pushing her to the rocky ground. With all her might, she pulled up, and gained a foothold. She stumbled into the darkness.

Had the criminals returned? She whipped her head about, searching the darkness. “Foxworth?”

“Sophia?” The duke’s familiar shape separated from the shadows. He appeared lucid, his voice crisp and strong, if a little astounded. His stance was straight, and he didn’t wobble or tremble. Yet just because he was conscious, and even well, did not mean he was out of danger. Head injuries could seem mild at first, even as they ultimately took a man.

Shock burned in his eyes, replaced by fury a moment later. “Why did you return? Leave at once!”

“They attacked you.” She ignored his command as she delved further into the blackness, wincing at the metallic scent of blood. A dull red spot matted his hair, yet not as bad as she feared. Something brown and dull glinted in the moonlight, and she gasped. Thick ropes encircled his wrists and legs.

She reached out. “Are you all right? Shall I fetch a doctor?”

“Do not call anyone. If they find us together, nothing will prevent the consequences.”

“But you’re trapped!”

She couldn’t leave a man to die…

Not even if it meant she would become the property of that man.

“You would sacrifice yourself?” He regarded her intensely, shook his head and winced. Her heart lurched. He must be in terrible pain. “It’s my own fault for not staying vigilant. Where are the men?”

“Gone.” Her gaze wandered down his arms. The rope bands encircling his wrists were solid, with jagged edges. “I tricked them into thinking a group of men followed me. They won’t return.”

“You don’t know that.” He tried to move forward, but the ropes held him. “If they realize you’re alone, they’ll capture you, too. You must go now. I can take care of myself.”

“Let me help.” She pushed herself further into the carriage. He tried to stop her, yet the binding held firm. His wrists were raw from the rope and his efforts to dislodge them.

He pulled back. “I should be able to get free in a few minutes.” He yanked again, and amazingly, the rope started to unbind. He strained against the restraints. “You have no idea of the danger you are in.”

She notched up her chin. “I’m not scared of them.”

“You should be.” He tightened his muscles, straining the rope. “Once again, you have put yourself in danger. When I am free, I will ensure you never do anything like this again.”

Her heart beat rapidly, yet she showed no trepidation. She was not afraid of him… much. “Perhaps I will leave you like this. At least until I convince you of the futility of your revenge.”

“My revenge will be continuing shortly. It seems I won’t have to postpone your kidnapping after all.”

She gaped. “Are you seriously threatening to kidnap me while I am rescuing you?”

He ignored her question. “While I appreciate your efforts, you won’t be able to help me unless you brought something sharp.” He stopped, grimaced.

All anger fled, as concern swooped in. “Are you well? Do not despair. I shall free you post haste, and then we shall seek a doctor.”

“I do not need a doctor, although they must have hit me harder than I imagined. How could I forget my knife?”

“You brought a knife to a ball?”

“I carry several.” He lifted his foot. “The easiest to reach is the knife strapped to my ankle. You should be able to cut through the rope with it.”

She bent down, and her shoulder brushed his knee. His legs were thick with muscle, his entire body coiled strength. She grasped the crisp fabric of his pants, then pulled up, holding her breath as she revealed strong ankles, tanned calves and the knife. Yet before she grasped it, something completely unexpected, wholly scandalous and altogether inappropriate emerged:

Desire.

“Are you all right?”

She bit back a gasp, fought for focus. She had halted her movement, with her hand resting on his calf. “Of course.”

Gripping the handle with two hands, she lifted it. Gleaming metal emerged, sharp as the edge of fear. She tightened her hands as they shook.

“All is well, lass,” he murmured. “Just move slowly.”

She nodded and focused on the knife. Even a slight slip could slice right into his leg. Finally, the blade was free, its side curved and wicked, its engraved letters gleaming. She edged back, holding it away from her.

Foxworth exhaled. “Excellent.” He lifted his hands, holding the rope taut between them. “Now just slice through the rope, and I’ll be free.”

She nodded and raised the knife. It was all a matter of control, and she had a steady hand. She could do this.

She froze.

Should she do this?

He had been kidnapping her when they were interrupted. If she set him free, what was to stop him from continuing?

Absolutely nothing.

His eyes turned guarded the moment she lowered the knife. She moved back, out of his reach. “What are you doing?”

What was she doing? She wanted him to abandon his revenge. He wouldn’t listen unless he was a captive audience.

What if she kidnapped him?

She wouldn’t hold him for long – several minutes, an hour at the most. She could force him to listen, explain the journal and its implications. Of course, she couldn’t stay here, where the kidnappers could return any moment. Her brother had taught her to drive a carriage…

She blinked. The thought was preposterous, mad even. She couldn’t kidnap a duke, for so many reasons:

A. Kidnapping a lord was generally considered bad form.

B. Kidnapping a lord was technically against the law.

C. If he escaped, he could very well kidnap her instead.

Of course, this was for a good cause, for both her family and his, and certainly that overrode any objections. She could dispute his misconceptions, make him realize Edmund had not murdered his father. The feud would end, the kidnapping cut short. They would return with a gentleman’s promise that her family was safe.

Yet what if he escaped before she convinced him?

The rope had twisted and frayed as he struggled. She may not have time to make her argument before he broke free. The brigands had left more rope…

Could she really do this?

She allowed a slow smile.

Yes, she could.

His eyes turned suspicious as she edged toward the rope. “What are you doing, lass?”

“I’m afraid I can’t release you, at least not yet.” With a deep breath, she moved forward. He moved at the same time, and her breasts brushed against his chest.

Her breath hitched.

She pressed closer, ignoring every doubt whispering a warning. It didn’t matter that he was restrained. It didn’t matter that she was free, or held a powerful weapon. He never relinquished control.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She lifted her chin. “I’m kidnapping you.”