Beyond the Duke's Domain: Ducal Encounters Series 4 Book 4 Page 23

  ‘We could break the glass,’ Lucy suggested.

  ‘And then what? You can be sure that Bertie won’t be in the mews, and even if he is, anyone would be able to overtake us.’ Ariana folded her arms and tapped the fingers of one hand against her opposite forearm.

  ‘Aren’t you afraid?’ Lucy asked.

  Petrified. ‘We cannot give way to fear, Lucy.’ But the memories of her abject terror when she and Martina had been captured flooded her mind. ‘We must be strong.’

  ‘Your brother and Cal will be looking for us.’

  ‘Not yet.’ Ariana growled with frustration. ‘It’s only mid-afternoon and we didn’t tell anyone where we were going. If we are missed, they will just think we have taken shelter from the rain somewhere.’

  ‘Then what…’

  ‘Basingstoke is behind this. Seeing Townsend proved it beyond doubt. We will be taken to Beauworth Hall. They can’t leave us here for long. Someone from the Park will work it out eventually, and this is the first place that they will come to. They won’t be fobbed off either, and will insist upon looking in all the rooms.’

  Lucy looked perplexed. ‘How does it help for us to be taken there? Surely it will only make matters worse.’

  ‘I have no idea, dearest.’ Ariana flapped her arms, feeling helpless and disadvantaged. ‘I hope that old hall might offer more opportunities. As long as they don’t separate us, then there is hope. Do we have anything that we can use as a weapon?’

  ‘All I have is a pin holding this hat in place.’

  ‘That will be better than nothing…’

  The girls both started when they heard the key turn in the lock. The same pretty girl who had locked them in stood on the threshold, looking pleased with herself.

  And behind her stood a smirking Lord Basingstoke.

  ‘Did I not tell you, my dear?’ the girl asked, smiling up at Basingstoke and touching his arm in a familiar manner.

  ‘Ladies,’ he said, sweeping an ironic bow. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lucy’s heart quailed. She had only ever seen Basingstoke at a distance and would prefer to have kept it that way. His dark aura made her shiver. He was, she conceded, moderately handsome, but there was an air of entitlement about him and a cruel twist to his lips, a ruthlessness that terrified her. She sensed a man who was dissatisfied with his situation; one who would do whatever it took to get the better of his enemies, real or perceived.

  A man who was utterly without empathy.

  ‘Miss Boyd, if I am not mistaken,’ he said, focusing his gaze upon her in a speculative fashion. ‘An unexpected bonus.’

  ‘You have the advantage of me,’ Lucy replied, lifting her chin and taking the same haughty tone she had heard the duchess employ on the rare occasions when she felt it necessary to pull rank.

  Far from being deterred by the rebuke, Basingstoke curled his upper lip in a manner that implied he never overlooked a slight, no matter how trivial. ‘Miss Ariana Sanchez-Gomez, at last.’ He transferred his attention to Ariana and the raw hunger in his eyes turned Lucy’s stomach. ‘What brought you ladies here?’

  ‘We got lost.’

  Basingstoke didn’t bother to contest such an obvious lie. ‘Then your lack of direction is to my advantage,’ he said, still holding her captive with his heavy-lidded gaze and reptilian smile. ‘Be so kind as to accompany me to more comfortable accommodation, ladies.’

  It was not a request. Lucy glanced at Ariana, expecting her to raise violent objections and advise him against taking on the duke in such a direct fashion. It wasn’t in her nature to react with subservience, especially when confronted by a man she despised, but it seemed as though the fight had drained out of her, leaving her inert and submissive.

  Was it a ruse, or had recollections of her previous incarceration overcome her courage? If she was cowed by Basingstoke’s presence then Lucy was absolutely terrified, but she did her very best not to allow it to show.

  ‘I really didn’t take you for such a fool,’ Ariana said scathingly, finally finding a disinterested voice as she preceded Lucy through the door. ‘You have kept your involvement with Cutler a closely guarded secret. No one suspected you other than me, and even I wasn’t absolutely sure it was your voice I heard in the warehouse where we were being held. Not until you showed your face here today. I am surprised that you didn’t lame your horse getting here so fast. Not that you would have spared a thought for the poor animal’s welfare, I’m sure.’ She sent him a contemptuous look. ‘Are you still so angry to have been outwitted by a female that you are prepared to risk your life and liberty in the pursuit of revenge? Can you possibly imagine being so consumed with bitterness, Lucy?’

  ‘Indeed not, Ariana, but then I am of sane mind.’ Basingstoke’s expression grew progressively darker with every word they spoke and the rigid set to his shoulders implied suppressed rage. ‘This person clearly thinks far too well of himself to tolerate being gainsaid, and his arrogance will be his downfall.’ She waved a dismissive hand in Basingstoke’s direction.

  ‘You will never get away with it,’ Ariana said. ‘The duke will destroy you, and if he does not then my brother will. You would be better advised to let us go before it’s too late. As things stand, you have given his grace no reason to resent you, but if you hold us against our will…’

  ‘Quite the outspoken one, aren’t we?’ Basingstoke turned and pinched Ariana’s cheek. She slapped his hand away. ‘I have ways of keeping little girls who meddle in affairs they do not understand quiet, as you were within a whisker of discovering once before.’

  Lucy shuddered as she shared a glance with Ariana, not for one moment doubting it.

  They were ushered through a door on the opposite side of the inn to the mews, where a closed carriage awaited. They were bundled into it, accompanied by the female who had locked them in, but mercifully Basingstoke mounted his horse rather than joining them in the cramped interior.

  ‘You do realise that he is completely insane,’ Ariana said to the woman as the carriage moved off. ‘And if you sit by and allow him to kidnap us, you will pay with your life.’

  ‘Kidnap?’ The woman spoke in a common voice that she was clearly attempting to improve by elongating her vowels. It didn’t come close to working and sounded preposterous. ‘I am Lord Basingstoke’s intended. He is devoted to me, trusts me implicitly and we are soon to be married.’

  Ariana glanced at her workworn hands and shook her head slowly. ‘If that is what you believe, you are deluded.’

  ‘What sort of man captures women who have offended him and expects his future wife to play a part?’ Lucy added. ‘You know what he intends to do to Ariana. Perhaps to us both.’

  The woman shrugged and turned away to look out the window. Could she really not have made that connection herself and wondered about it? Her gullibility hardly seemed credible.

  ‘You are a servant of some sort, and he has used you for his own vile purposes,’ Ariana said. ‘He will no more marry you than he will allow us to go free.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ the girl said, but she no longer looked nearly as sure as she sounded. ‘Anyway, it’s you what’s being made to do as he says, not me.’

  ‘Which makes it fairly obvious to anyone with an iota of sense that you are not sufficient to satisfy his needs,’ Lucy pointed out. ‘Besides, if he is devoted to you, why would he want us?’

  ‘Wot are you on about?’ The woman’s attempt to improve her diction had not endured.

  ‘Basingstoke ignored you when your message brought him running here,’ Ariana added. ‘He even shook your hand off his sleeve when you tried to touch him, staking your claim to his affections. Affections to which you are entirely welcome, by the way. I find him repugnant. Even so, you appear to have served your purpose and the earl will now have no further use for you.’

  The girl looked highly offended. ‘He would never…’

  ‘Of course he would, you stup
id girl, and I think you know it—even if you are not yet ready to acknowledge the fact. But if you help us to escape, the Duke of Winchester will reward you handsomely.’

  ‘He won’t marry me, though, will he?’ the girl said, sticking out her lower lip. ‘He’s already got a wife.’

  Lucy wondered if she was a little simple. Her aim was clearly to better herself through marriage. She was pretty enough when she didn’t pout, and the compliments she had undoubtedly received from her own class had fuelled her determination to use her looks for her own advancement. She was gullible; an easy person to persuade with a few trinkets and kind words. Lucy wondered what part she had played in Basingstoke’s plan. It was one thing for a man in his position to prey upon his servants to satisfy his lust, but entirely another to be seen publicly in the company of one of the servants in question.

  ‘What is your name?’ Ariana asked.

  ‘What’s it to you?’ the girl asked sullenly.

  Ariana gave a disinterested shrug. ‘If we are to see more of you, it would help to know your name.’

  ‘Sally,’ she said. ‘Soon to be Lady Basingstoke, and there’s no point looking to me for help. If you will flaunt yourselves in places you’ve got no place being seen in, then you only have yourselves to blame for the way things turn out.’ Sally looked satisfied, appearing to think that she had said something meaningful. Lucy was glumly aware that she very likely had.

  Both girls glanced out the window when the carriage turned onto the same narrow track that they had walked along earlier that afternoon. One way in and one way out. Lucy felt helpless, angry and very, very afraid—for her friend more than herself. Ariana had escaped from Basingstoke’s clutches once before and Lucy knew that he wouldn’t underestimate her determination to get away from him a second time. His lustful expression as he had feasted his eyes on her friend had chilled Lucy to the marrow. Clearly, he had been anticipating this moment for some considerable time and wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

  Lucy wriggled on her seat, feeling helpless. She thought of how she had told Raph about her yen for adventure; her desire for something exciting to happen. Now that it had, she would happily exchange that adventure for Petra’s mundane, privileged existence.

  How immature she must have sounded to a man of Raph’s experience and sophistication. What would he do in this situation? He would, Lucy suspected, assess the matter with clinical detachment, and she decided that that is what she would do too.

  What did she know for a certainty? Basingstoke was so obsessed with Ariana that he had rushed to Beauworth the moment he knew of her presence there. That was an undeniable fact. The meticulous planning that had allowed him to evade both suspicion and capture as he filled his depleted coffers at the expense and misery of others had been abandoned the moment he heard news of Ariana’s capture. That had to count for something, surely?

  Perhaps there would be an opportunity to exploit Basingstoke’s weakness for Ariana. Unless, of course, he intended to slake his lust immediately. Lucy shuddered at the mere prospect. Ariana, probably sensing her turmoil, squeezed her hand, looking totally composed. Lucy took strength from her friend and straightened her shoulders with renewed determination.

  They were not beaten yet.

  The carriage rattled to a halt at the coach house they had observed from a distance earlier.

  ‘Ladies.’ Basingstoke opened the door himself and gave another ironic bow. ‘Your accommodation awaits.’

  ‘The cargo’s almost here,’ Townsend said behind Basingstoke. Ariana and Lucy locked gazes, aware that they must be referring to the latest shipment of girls. Basingstoke stepped away from the carriage, turned his back on them and spoke with Townsend.

  ‘Damn!’ Basingstoke sounded angry. ‘Of all the unfortunate timing.’

  The girls could hear every word since they had not lowered their voices, presumably because Basingstoke didn’t intend for them to live long enough to tell anyone what they had overheard.

  ‘Mind you, you could name your price for them two,’ Townsend pointed out, nodding towards the carriage.

  ‘The Spanish whore is mine.’ Basingstoke turned to face the carriage again. ‘I have a score to settle with her.’

  Sally scowled when Basingstoke transferred his attention to Ariana, who was still sitting perfectly composed beside Lucy and acting as though Basingstoke wasn’t there. Only Lucy sensed her shudder as his words sent a chill down her spine. Lucy offered Sally a significant look, and this time she responded with a thoughtful glance rather than the defiant glower they had become accustomed to.

  ‘What, now?’ Townsend sounded surprised. ‘You sure you wanna do this, guv’nor? The duke will turn the county upside down looking for ’em. We can’t stay here with the others if he does that. The additional activity will be noticed, and the duke will bring the full force of the law down on us.’

  ‘Don’t go soft on me now, Townsend. You’ve done as well out of this business as I have.’

  ‘By staying alert and out-thinking the opposition. You ain’t doing that at the moment.’

  ‘We have a contingency plan in place?’

  ‘Aye, but it’s not tried and tested.’

  ‘We’ll move them all tonight under the cover of darkness. Put the arrangements in place and advise our guests of the altered venue. The viewing will be tomorrow evening. Make sure the notices go out under the correct heading.’

  Lucy and Ariana exchanged a mystified look.

  ‘That’s pretty short notice.’

  ‘Better that way. We can’t be assured of privacy in the way we expected to be here.’

  ‘Shouldn’t have taken them girls then.’

  ‘Use your head, Townsend,’ Basingstoke said impatiently. ‘They didn’t come to this village by accident.’

  Lucy noticed Townsend rubbing his jaw and looking perplexed. ‘Which means they had their suspicions about this place.’

  ‘If they did, they kept them to themselves. The duke wouldn’t have let them come to this village unattended. We still have time to get clear and make our profit.’

  ‘Best get it done with then, I suppose.’

  Townsend still seemed dubious. Lucy sensed that he was on the verge of arguing with his master, but he eventually made do with a curt nod. Basingstoke turned back to the carriage and sent a lustful glance Ariana’s way.

  ‘She will keep until later,’ he said. ‘It will give her an opportunity to reflect upon the pleasures in store for her.’ Lucy sensed the breath leaving Ariana’s body in an extravagant sigh of relief and noticed how tightly she had clasped her interlinked fingers together, belying her composed demeanour. ‘You know where to put them. Go with them, Sally, and keep an eye on them.’

  ‘What, me?’ Sally pointed to her own chest indignantly.

  ‘Is there anyone else here by that name?’ Basingstoke asked contemptuously, not even bothering to look at her. ‘Keep a weather eye on the Spanish chit. She’s trouble.’

  Storm clouds gathered behind Sally’s eyes and Lucy knew that in disregarding her feelings Basingstoke had made a tactical error. ‘But I thought, you and me, we was going to…’

  Her words were cut off by the back of Basingstoke’s hand as it made sharp contact with her cheek. The ring he wore bearing his family’s crest cut into her lip and drew blood.

  ‘Ow! What did you do that for?’ Sally cupped her cheek in her hand, looking sullen.

  ‘Just do as you’re told, like a good girl.’ Basingstoke patted her rear, clearly realising that he had pushed her too far. ‘We will enjoy one another’s company later.’

  Ariana and Lucy left the carriage, preferring to do so unaided, rather than permitting Townsend to manhandle them. Lucy could see Ariana taking careful note of their immediate surroundings as they were led towards the house. Lucy followed her example, attempting to commit all the places to hide in the unlikely event of their escaping to memory.

  She was surprised when instead of ap
proaching the front door, they were led to the back of the house along a path that had been made muddy by the heavy rain. Lucy allowed the hem of her habit to trail through that mud, rather than lifting her skirts and exposing her legs to view. She struggled to extract her feet from the mud, clumsy because her ankle throbbed so painfully.

  ‘This way, ladies.’

  Townsend put all his strength into lifting a trapdoor, revealing steps that led down to the cellar. Lucy shuddered yet again, wondering if their nightmare would ever come to an end. She was terrified of the dark but that fear seemed inconsequential when viewed against their more immediate concerns. She followed Ariana down the steps, pleased to discover there was one small lantern burning to alleviate the gloom. The space was cold and smelled of damp. She heard scampering feet running away. Rats! That was all they needed.

  Several mattresses were arranged around the edges of the room, with thin blankets thrown over them—presumably ready for the girls, whose arrival was imminent. She shared a glance with Ariana, thinking that could be a good thing. With more confused and frightened people in the cellar, there would be less chance of anyone keeping a specific eye on them. That cellar trapdoor looked heavy, even Townsend had struggled to lift it, but if Lucy and Ariana pushed at it from this side, and with a fierce determination to guard their virtue fuelling their determination, then perhaps…

  She heard a bolt shoot home like the sharp retort of a gunshot and her momentary hope faded along with the sound.

  ‘Still think he’s going to marry you?’ Ariana asked Sally, as she set about searching their prison. ‘What sort of a man strikes his future wife?’

  Sally shrugged. ‘Happens all the time where I come from.’

  ‘Where is that?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘Beauworth born and bred. Me Pa runs the tavern.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ Lucy nodded. Now things made more sense. ‘You were in service with Basingstoke?’