Page 7 of The Untamed Duke (The Secret Crusaders #3)

CHAPTER 7

T he Private Diary of Sophia Hawkins

My brother has often chastised me for not considering the repercussions of my actions. Yet if one were to list every possible thing that could go wrong, undoubtedly one would never leave home, for fear of something dreadful happening. Of course in that case, something equally dreadful would happen in the home, and then one would incur consequences without ever enjoying rewards. Life is meant to be lived, and consequences are part of that. Yet just because I risk them does not mean I am not aware.

What will be the consequences of challenging Foxworth?

The blow must have been harder than he realized.

Must have addled his senses, torn his perception of reality. Yet even though it still felt like someone was stabbing his brain with a dagger, his vision was clear, with no tell-tale nausea that signaled a serious affliction. Still, he couldn’t have heard correctly.

Sophia could not possibly be kidnapping him.

Of course, he also never believed she would return. Seeing her had been more than a shock, yet admiration for her bravery had been tempered by concern for her safety. Didn’t she realize what could’ve happened, what could still happen? Fortunately, with every passing second, the chances of the brigands’ return lessened.

He didn’t know their exact plans, yet if they had wanted to kill him, he wouldn’t be breathing now. Likely they thought they could convince him to resume their business. As soon as he returned, he would make clear their relations were over in no uncertain terms.

He brought his attention back to the woman who never truly left it.

Could Sophia actually be concerned for him? It seemed unlikely, yet what other possible motive could there be? Behind her tough exterior, she had shown a kindness and caring so rare in the ton. It was apparent in her misguided yet fervent defense of Bradenton, her willingness to leap into danger to defend her family. Of course, he would be putting a stop to such reckless behavior immediately.

“What are you doing?” He annunciated each word, as she grazed him with hesitant fingers. Awareness flooded him, the unmistakable urge to pull her close, to take control.

She did not answer as she wrapped the rope around his wrists. She pulled tightly, yet he barely felt it. She bent down to his legs, practically laying herself in his lap. Her breasts brushed his thighs.

He felt that.

It was pure torture. Not that she hurt him, or even threatened his freedom, as she tied knots he could easily defeat. Yet he couldn’t touch back.

“You are playing a dangerous game, if you think to challenge me.” He flexed his muscles. “I always emerge victorious.”

He would get what he wanted: Retribution. Revenge. Her.

Most ladies would be fearful, yet not his spirited lass. “Not. This. Time.”

Did she realize her activities were about to be curtailed? “How many times must I forbid you from danger?”

“Until you realize I’m not listening.” She pulled another useless knot. “You’re allowed to kidnap me, yet I can’t kidnap you?”

He gave his fiercest gaze, the one that intimidated Scottish warriors, powerful leaders and the most influential men in the ton.

She stuck up that sassy little nose and smiled.

“Untie me now,” he demanded. “And I will get us out of danger.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of it.”

He bristled. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I am kidnapping you.”

Actually…

Why couldn’t she accept she was the one being kidnapped?

This was going too far. Yet before he ended her fledgling career as a kidnapper and commenced his, he would discover her plans. “Is there any particular reason you’re kidnapping me?”

“For the same reason you tried to kidnap me: ending the feud between you and my brother.” She pulled hard on the rope, yet the knot loosened after her first try. She didn’t correct it. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to kidnap you for very long. Unlike your nefarious plan, it’ll just last a few hours, until I convince you to abandon your vendetta.”

He tightened, all humor vanished. The feud wouldn’t end until he had a measure of retribution, and assurance Bradenton would never hurt anyone ever again. “I have no intention of forgoing my plan.”

Her eyes blazed. “That’s a bold statement, considering I’m the one in control.”

No. She. Wasn’t. “Are you so certain about that, lass?”

For just a moment, uncertainty flashed. Despite her daring statements, she recognized the predator in him, as he lured his prey. His plan may not be progressing as intended, yet nothing had changed. She was his for the foreseeable future… perhaps far longer.

Pinkness tinged her cheeks, as if she knew her future was being debated and decided without her agreement. “You no longer have power over me.”

She did not understand how a predator stalked his prey. She didn’t know he could release himself within minutes, quick enough to prevent her escape. He’d catch her before she ever made it back to the party. “You wield certain power,” he murmured. “Yet you could never triumph against me.”

She delved nearer. The scent of violets surrounded him, as desire swirled, untold attraction for this luscious creature. By her dilated eyes, it captured her, too. “Do you feel in control now?” she murmured.

“Entirely.” He sat as tall as his bindings allowed. “Nothing you do can threaten my control.”

Her eyes flashed, as she edged closer. “Are you so certain of that?”

Absolutely.”

“Let’s put that to a test, shall we?”

Then she took his lips.

She was sweeter than the wildflowers that grew in the Scottish highlands, softer than their dewy petals. Her lips were tender and supple, her breath warm and fragrant, as she pushed into him with an intoxicating mixture of innocence and boldness, ingenuousness and brazenness. Slender arms wrapped around him, testing him as never before. It took all his effort to stop from fighting the ropes, so he may properly secure her. Yet patience would be rewarded later, when he seized control.

Sweet surrender was in every sigh, capitulation in every gentle touch. She edged closer, pressing her small frame to his. She was feminine glory, unbridled passion and strength. Yet it was not enough. He wanted more, and not just physically.

He gloried in the surrender she didn’t realize she gave.

This must stop. The gentleman in him commanded it once, then many more times, as he fought a battle within himself. He couldn’t continue now, where the brigands could return, when he couldn’t protect her as the warrior in him demanded. Kissing required neither effort nor strength. Pulling back required all.

He withdrew, even as she stayed still, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Her lips were plump from his attention, her cheeks brushed with passion’s rouge. For a moment, her eyelashes quivered up and down, like the wings of a butterfly, before her eyes widened. Awareness edged into her gaze, then shock and confusion. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

Their eyes locked.

“What am I doing?” Her voice grew louder.

He sat up tall, hovering over her. “I believe you were just explaining who was in control.”

The hitch in her breath was audible, as she moved back so swiftly, she almost fell off the seat. The knife slipped from her gasp, falling to the floor with a clang. She held herself up. “There is much to discuss, and I need to return as soon as possible.” She stepped toward the exit, halted. “I better take this.” She picked up the knife, far too close to the blade.

“Careful, lass,” he warned. “You could hurt yourself.”

Once free, relieving her of it would be his first order of business. His next?

Her kidnapping.

As if she heard his wayward thoughts, her eyes flashed. She glanced around the carriage, stopping at the coat he planned to use as a disguise. “Mind if I borrow this?”

She didn’t wait for an answer before donning it. The coat fell far past her knees, engulfing her like a child in her father’s belongings. And despite everything, the urge to smile was almost irresistible.

Just like her.

Clearly she recognized his amusement. “Would you prefer I drive the carriage in only my gown?”

His smile froze. He’d assumed she was going to hold him captive here, so she could offer her argument.

“You are taking me somewhere?”

“Of course.” She lifted a hand. “A seasoned kidnapper such as yourself should understand the meaning of the term kidnapping.”

“I know what it means,” he said through clenched teeth. “I just didn’t realize you planned on leaving.”

“Of course. We are far too close to the ball.” Her eyes darted to the window and the shadows beyond. “A short ride will provide a safe place to talk. We shall not be gone long.”

“We shouldn’t be gone at all.” Despite what she believed, he had no desire to cause scandal. Unfortunately, the stubborn tilt of her nose proved he would gain no quarter, and arguing would waste precious time. Best allow her freedom, for now . “Do not stray from the safe areas of London.”

“I’m in charge of this kidnapping.” She put her hands on her hips, as only an elite daughter of the ton could do, while conducting illegal activities. “I do as I wish.”

“You will heed me.” He would allow her to continue the charade as long as it was safe, yet unseen dangers lurked in the underworld of London. They might find her before he could free himself. “If I see you venturing into a dangerous area, you will not like the consequences.”

“Have you confused our roles?” She glared at him. “I am the kidnapper.”

Not. For. Long. “I am serious.”

In a huff, she turned towards the door. She halted, softened just the slightest. “We will not go far, just enough to ensure our safety. Then you and I will discuss matters. I’m sure we can come to a solution that is amenable to both of us.”

That would depend. Did she consider him abducting her amenable?

She said no more as she departed, the carriage shaking slightly as she ascended to the top. He didn’t wait for the door to click shut before attacking the ropes. The ones she’d added were dispatched with swift ease, yet the brigands’ efforts presented more of a challenge. Still, he loosened the first as the carriage lurched into motion, relieving the pressure on his wrists. He rubbed raw skin as his circulation returned, welcoming the pain. The kidnapping had begun.

Hers.

The alley was desolate and deserted, filled with smoke, waste and the other unappetizing odors the ton couldn’t quite hide. Yet they remained in a respectable area, if not slightly towards the fashionable area, not because Foxworth demanded it, but because it was logical and safe. Despite what he believed, she did not run into danger at every opportunity.

Even if a dash of it did make life exciting.

Now the lower risk of being seen was tempered by the consequences if the wrong sort of person caught her. She would not risk danger, not to herself or her captive, as she urged the horses just a tad further, finally settling on a quiet alley with closed shops and sparse light. Hopefully no one would notice the coach for however long it took to convince Foxworth to abandon his quest.

She climbed down from the seat, pulling the rough coat around her. She could do this. She would show strength, logic and reasoning, and demand he release her brother from his vengeance.

She turned the handle and opened the door.

Foxworth was exactly where she left him, sitting in a relaxed pose with the rope still looped around his wrists and legs. She half expected him to lunge, with nothing and no one to save her, yet he remained still.

“You stayed in the safe areas. That’s my lass.”

His arrogant words extinguished her uncertainty. “I’m not your lass, and I didn’t do it because you commanded me. I make my own decisions.”

He shrugged lightly. How could a restrained man look so smug? “A wise decision, in any case. Now that you have me here, what do you plan to do to me?”

The images came without conscious thought:

Kiss him.

Then kiss him again.

And again.

Probably again after that.

Again, again, again and again.

She. Was. In. Trouble.

She cleared her throat.

He smiled wickedly. “I like what you’re thinking.”

She parted her lips. “You have no idea what I’m thinking.”

“I don’t?” His eyes shined. “Would you like to come closer so I can show you what you’re not thinking?”

Yes, please.

“Of course not,” she snapped. Lust may have infiltrated her traitorous mind, but her resolve was strong. She would ignore the spell he so effortlessly cast.

He flexed his muscles.

Her throat dried.

All right, so she couldn’t ignore the paragon of masculinity. Yet she could focus on her mission. “I want to explore with you.” She gasped. “I mean I want to explore you.” Heat burned every inch of her skin. She whipped off the coat and placed it on the bench, even as his piercing gaze skewered her.

“We should indeed explore matters,” he rumbled, eliciting a thousand images of her exploring his powerful body.

And even more of him exploring her.

This was ridiculous. Even bound, he usurped her control. She wouldn’t have it. “The only matter to explore is this feud. You will cease your vengeance against my brother.”

Now his gaze hardened, even as the heat soared halfway to the sun. “My feud is not settled until I exact retribution, which was interrupted. Next time, matters will progress far smoother.”

“There will be no next time.” She held herself up. “You are quite bold for a restrained man.”

A mysterious gleam entered his eyes, gone in an instant. “I am bold, even while bound .” He annunciated the last word, shifting slightly. Her eyes lingered on the ropes, but they appeared as before, secure around his wrists and ankles.

She gazed into eyes that shared no secrets. “This is not proper behavior for someone who’s been kidnapped.”

“Indeed?” His amusement deepened. “I’m sorry if my behavior is lacking. This is my first time being abducted, after all.”

“I was just abducted for the first time as well.” She plucked at her skirt. “And the proper action is to concede to your captor.”

“You didn’t concede to me,” he pointed out, shifting forward. For a moment, it seemed as if he would go straight through the ropes, yet he halted a moment later. The rope was still against him, but was it as taut as before? “You argued with me the entire time. With another captor, it could have been dangerous.” His eyes narrowed. “Fortunately, no one else will be kidnapping you, ever.”

“What was I supposed to do?” she retorted. “ Thank you for kidnapping me?”

“It would have been the polite thing to do.”

“Are you trying to make me angry on purpose?”

“You are lovely when excited.”

Her fingernails dug into her palms, leaving little crescent-shaped marks. Was she seriously having a conversation about the proper etiquette for kidnapping?

“Perhaps we should consult the ladies of Almack’s.” Clearly he was enjoying himself. “They are experts on propriety, after all.”

She closed her eyes, opened them. “I know why you are furious with my brother.”

He tightened, as golden fire blazed in his eyes. “How would you know that?”

A thousand and one responses flitted through her mind, truths, untruths, half-truths. Yet if she wanted to convince him, she had to be honest. “I read your father’s journal.”

All amusement fled from his expression. “Did you now?” His voice was deceptively soft. “You said you didn’t go through the journals.”

She braced her hands against the hard sides of the carriage. “I meant I didn’t read your accounting journals. I read the diaries, but only because you gave me no choice.”

His gaze turned incredulous. “I gave you no choice but to read my father’s private musings?”

“In my defense I believed them to be yours, but yes.” She held out her hands. “What would you have me do? If an unknown enemy threatened your family, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to save it?”

“That’s different.”

“Because you’re a man?” His silence revealed the answer. “I will not stand by while you threaten my family. I hoped the journals would provide some insight into your motivations, and indeed they have. Most importantly, I believe they hold the key to resolving them.”

“How?” He edged towards her, stopped when the rope stretched taut. Although it seemed a little longer than before. “If you read the journals, you know what your brother did to my father.” His voice lowered. “Bradenton is a murderer.”

“Untrue!” she hissed. “Edmund is a good man. He would never murder a man.”

“Yet the journal proves otherwise.” Foxworth’s hard stare belied any skepticism. “A man’s behavior towards his sister is not indicative of his true nature. Did you read the last entry?”

She paused, nodded. “Just because they planned a duel doesn’t mean it was fought. Everyone knows your father passed of a heart ailment.”

“An easy enough excuse,” Foxworth rebutted. “Which can be neither confirmed nor denied.”

“Surely it was obvious at the time.” She softened her voice. “Someone would have seen him.”

“Only no one did.” Foxworth reached up, stopped himself before the ropes snapped. “The burial and services were done swiftly and in secret, by a man who is not associated with my father. I was informed weeks after it occurred, and by the time I found the journals, it was too late.”

She frowned. That was strange, yet it didn’t mean her brother was involved. “It appears neither of us knows the entire truth. I’m certain if you ask Edmund, he’ll–”

“Lie.” Foxworth’s voice was as sharp as a shard of glass. “Which is what men like him do. All throughout the journal, my father documented your brother’s transgressions. Bradenton set out to destroy my father, and he did. If the estate hadn’t been so well-protected, my father would have lost everything.”

“My brother would never destroy another person,” she responded forcefully. “You must have heard of his charities, the causes he fights for every day, the people he helped. He’s the most selfless man I know.”

“And what of my father?”

She may not have known the former duke personally, yet tales of his indiscretions were rife within the ton. Despite Foxworth’s assertions, the former duke had lived his life, quite to the excess. “What do you know of your father?” she asked carefully.

Unease entered his expression, yet no actual animosity. “I know he wasn’t a saint,” he admitted. “My mother’s tales alone elucidated this, as did his absence. I do not claim he was a great man, or even a good one. Yet he suffered greatly at your brother’s hands. Perhaps if Bradenton hadn’t pursued his vitriolic campaign, matters may have been different.”

Blazes. Not only did Foxworth blame Edmund for the murder of his father, but for his ruin, and even their estrangement. It was a heavy accusation, and, she was certain, an unwarranted one.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Truly, she was. No one should have to lose both their father and their entire way of life. “Yet just because he wrote those things doesn’t make them true. You know of your father’s struggles. A man influenced by the bottle does not always view the world with clarity.”

He stared at her, and for a single moment, doubt entered his eyes. The next moment it was gone. “There is simply too much evidence. Even if the journal didn’t exist, I have confirmation from an additional source.”

Shock momentarily paralyzed her. “You do?”

“My father’s man of business confirmed the journal’s accounts. He believes your brother was responsible for my father’s death.”

“That’s impossible.” No evidence could convince her Edmund murdered a man. Yet why would the man of business substantiate a false tale? “I shall like to talk with him immediately.”

He lowered his eyebrows. “Absolutely not.”

She sucked in a breath of air, scented with amber and bergamot. She pushed aside all trepidation, wanted and unwanted desire. “My brother deserves the chance to defend himself. Obviously there’s been some sort of misunderstanding–”

“There’s no misunderstanding,” he snapped, “and no explanation beyond common sense. For unknown reasons, your brother hated my father. He tormented him again and again, using his vast power and endless wealth to destroy him. My father never had a chance against Bradenton, yet he murdered him anyway.”

“That can’t be true. If you’d only ask him–”

“There’s no point in asking a murderer for an explanation.”

“You don’t know Edmund,” she hissed. “As you did not know your father. I am genuinely sorry for your loss, yet it does not justify your malicious campaign, especially without a comprehensive search for the truth.”

“I know what happened.” He flexed his muscles. “You admire your brother too much to see it.”

“And you’re too angry to investigate.” She took a deep breath, fighting for calm. “If you truly knew Edmund, you’d know he is no more capable of such nefarious business than me.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“You kidnapped me first!” She clutched her silky dress. The man wouldn’t listen to reason. “Talk to Edmund, please. Find a solution together.”

“I have a solution.” He leaned forward. “For days he will worry over your absence, a burden he cannot show for fear of scandal. When we return, he will forever know he couldn’t protect you. It will haunt him, just as my inability to protect my father tortures me.”

Underneath his anger, something deeper lurked: pain, sorrow, vulnerability. She ran her hands through her hair. Pins fell out, but it didn’t matter. The chances of her escaping unscathed dwindled with every moment.

He shifted, drawing her eyes to his muscular arms. “You made your case. While I appreciate your efforts, I have not changed my mind. Thus, the original plan will proceed.”

Her heart took a brief sojourn, thumped loudly in her chest upon its return. “What are you about?”

“I am resuming your kidnapping.”

She looked down at the ropes, back at him. His jaw was set, his expression determined. “If you didn’t notice, you are restrained.”

“Actually, that’s not quite true.” He moved forward and forward and forward some more. The ropes, once tight, loosened, as he pushed through them like lightly wrapped twine. “I only wanted you to believe I was bound. In actuality, I’ve been free this entire time. And you–” His eyes flashed. “Never were.”

He gave no warning. No sign as he transformed into the predator she always knew he was. He lunged forward, a warrior poised to attack. She pivoted to the door, reaching for a handle a mile away. The cool metal bit into her hand as she turned it.

Too late.

He captured her from behind, heavy hands on her arms. The lever snapped back, the door still securely shut. With a firm yet painless grip, he pulled her back into the carriage, into the plush seat. She opened her mouth to scream.

“Do you want to be discovered?”

She swallowed her cry, as he loomed over her. He was intense, massive and in control . “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I thought that was obvious.” His power enveloped her. “I am kidnapping you.”