Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval Page 5
Once he had paid, and Lady Annalise was safely restored to her family, he would seek retribution.
His blood ran cold at the thought of his delightful dance partner being manhandled by her abductors. For all her insistence that having four rumbustious older brothers had been good training when it came to looking after herself, she must be terrified. Clarence was scarcely less so, because there was nothing he could do for her now, except wait. As a diplomat, waiting was something he was accustomed to doing, and he was remarkably good at it. His patience was legion, and usually worked to his advantage. In this case, he already knew every minute Lady Annalise remained missing would be a torturous reminder of his inability to keep her safe.
She had delighted him with her irreverent ways, and she was the first lady who had ever given him reason to regret his firm determination to remain single. The thought of doing nothing, of the endless waiting until they received word, filled him with impotent rage. Of course he would send people out to scour London, have every one of his contacts—of whom he had a large network—asking questions everywhere. But this was a well-executed plot, and he doubted whether he would learn anything worthwhile before the ransom demand came.
“I shall put arrangements in hand to have questions asked,” Clarence told Winchester, giving voice to his thoughts, “and then join you at Sheridan House. I know you probably don’t want me there,” he added, when he sensed all three brothers were about to object, “but you need me. Frankie’s right. Your sister won’t be physically harmed, but the sooner we can find her and get her to safety, the quicker we can get to the bottom of why she, out of all people attending this ball, was targeted.”
“You think she was taken because she was seen with you?” Winchester asked.
“I don’t know what to think yet.” Clarence ground his jaw. He almost never allowed his temper to get the better of him. A long career as a diplomat had taught him anger deprived one of the ability to think rationally and seldom worked to one’s advantage. On this occasion, he allowed it to swirl through him unchecked, welcoming the swell of thunderous rage, feeling ready to throttle the bastards with his bare hands just as soon as he discovered their identities.
Which he most assuredly would.
Someone had grossly underestimated Clarence by carrying out such an audacious crime—a crime that could not be permitted to go unavenged. Quite apart from his personal interest in the matter, it threatened the entire fabric of society as Clarence knew it, and that was totally unacceptable. A line had been crossed, and the perpetrators needed to be taught a swift, brutal lesson in order to deter others.
Winchester nodded, first to his brothers, then to Clarence. “Very well. We shall see you in Berkeley Square.”
Clarence took his leave of the duchess and Frankie, then strode across to Pierce, who was hovering in the doorway to the small salon in which this conversation had taken place.
“Have everyone ask discrete questions,” he said curtly. “Call at every rookery, every den of thievery we know of, and make their inhabitants aware they will not be left to continue with their thievery until we find the lady. Offer a reward for information, but do not, under any circumstances, name the lady who has been abducted. Are you clear what must be done?”
“Leave it to me, my lord.”
“I shall be at Sheridan House. Keep me informed of developments, no matter how insignificant.”
Clarence lingered only long enough to see his orders carried out, then walked the short distance to Berkeley Square. He noticed several of the men under his command already patrolling the street, and those surrounding it. Not that Lady Annalise was likely to be in this district, but it paid to be thorough.
Clarence was admitted to the house and found the entire family congregated in the drawing room. He went straight to the duchess.
“I am most terribly sorry, your grace,” he said, bowing over her hand. “But rest assured, we will not leave a stone unturned until we find Lady Annalise.”
The duchess was clearly distressed, but managed to remain in control of herself. Lady Portia clutched one of her mother’s hands, herself looking close to tears.
“We do not blame you, Lord Romsey,” the duchess said.
All three brothers were standing in a cluster in front of the fire. One of them made a derogatory sound, but none of them spoke. Winchester’s two wolfhounds, Phantom and Phineas, were stretched out full length on the hearth rug. They lifted their heads when Clarence walked in, but quickly dropped them again and returned to their slumbers.
“Thank you, but I take full responsibility.”
“If a lady cannot stroll on a terrace during a ball in one of the safest mansions in London, then I don’t know what the world is coming to. No wonder you and Zach are so concerned about the increase in criminal activity. This is beyond unimaginable.”
“That it is, your grace, but we shall get to the bottom of it.” Clarence’s jaw clenched, square and unmoving. “On that you have my solemn oath.”
“You think the people who took Anna will ask for a ransom, I understand,” Lady Portia said, wrinkling her brow. “But how will they deliver their demand? They must know you will have the area around this house surrounded and will apprehend whoever approaches it.”
“They will send an urchin, one they recruit far away from where they are holding Anna,” Winchester said before Clarence could. “He won’t know the identity of the abductors, nor will we bother to ask him. We are not going to take any more chances with Anna’s safety,” he added with a significant glance for Clarence. “We will pay whatever they ask to get her back, and then scour the country until we find her abductors.”
“God help them when we do,” Vince replied, scowling.
Winchester refilled his brothers’ glasses, then his own. After a moment’s hesitation, he filled another and passed it to Clarence.
“Thank you,” Clarence said, recognising the gesture for the olive branch that it was.
“And so we must wait,” the duchess said, showing signs of considerable strain, but not giving way to hysterics.
“That will be the hardest part,” Lady Portia said. “Waiting, unable to do anything, feeling so useless.”
“God to bed, Mother,” Winchester said with a kindly smile. “You, too, Portia. We will wake you as soon as we hear anything, but I doubt if it will be before daybreak.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” the duchess replied.
Winchester took his mother’s hand and gently pulled her to her feet. “Try, for my sake,” he said softly. “I can’t worry about you and Portia, as well as Anna. There is nothing you can do here. Leave things to us.”
“Zach’s right, Mama,” Portia said. “Let’s go upstairs. We can be of use when Anna is back. Have Mrs. Jessop send up hot libations for us both, please, Zach. They might help us to sleep.”
“I can summon Dr. Fisher, if you would like. He could give you something stronger.”
“No need,” the duchess replied with a tired smile. “But he ought to be on hand for when Anna comes home. I am sure she will need him.”
“I have already sent word,” Winchester said, opening the door for his mother and sister, kissing each of them as they walked through it.
“Damnation, what a thing to have happen,” Nate said, grinding his jaw. He was the brother closest in age to Lady Annalise and probably felt her loss more keenly even than Winchester did. “I feel so useless, standing around waiting. Portia got that part right.”
Clarence felt that way too, but he refrained from saying as much.
“Right, Romsey,” Winchester said when the door closed behind the ladies. “It’s time for you to tell us whom you think might have taken our sister.”
Chapter Five
Annalise trembled, cold and truly afraid. The darkness and the ruthlessness of her captors had badly overset her. If only she could see. She felt her way cautiously around the room, dragging the blanket about her shoulders, no longer fastidiously turning her nose up at
its odour. All she cared about was remaining as warm as she could. Her legs still felt wobbly. Her feet were frozen, the frost on the terrace having, as Lord Romsey predicted, soaked through her slippers. Ignoring her physical discomfort, she continued to explore, using her hands to guide her since she could barely see a thing. She deduced she was in a storeroom of some sort. She could feel wooden crates all over the place, and kept bumping into them, ripping her skirts and cutting her forearm on something sharp.
Something sharp? A weapon she could use. Her fingers eagerly explored. Damnation, it was just the corner of a heavy crate she couldn’t even move, much less break apart and use as a club. She continued to feel her way beyond the chair she had been sitting in. There was a small window, the glass frigid to the touch. She didn’t try to open it, knowing she was not on the ground floor. It would be suicide to try and clamber out of it, even if it did open. The snow storm was raging harder than ever, a howling wind rattling against the walls of the building.
This had to be a warehouse on the wharf, she decided, feeling her way back to the tatty old armchair in the corner of the room. She pulled her feet up beneath her bottom in a futile attempt to warm them, and tucked the blanket around herself. It was thin, inadequate, but there was nothing else she could use. Whoever had taken her had chosen their hiding place well. No one would think to look for her here, she decided glumly, her teeth chattering, and there wasn’t a hope of escape. Her situation was made ten times worse by the cold, even more so by her ungovernable terror of the dark. Fear tingled down Anna’s spine. She had never felt so helpless in her entire life. Desperate, she thought briefly of pounding on the locked door and requesting a candle, but decided against it. If her captors had wanted her to see, they would have left her a light. Besides, she had no wish to disadvantage herself even further by admitting to her paranoia. She would just have to embrace that panic and somehow overcome it. Think about happier times, she told herself.
Her family must be frantic, wondering what had happened to her. They would blame Lord Romsey, of course, which was most unfair. He had behaved with decorum. This was not his fault, was it? Anna was ashamed when it occurred to her that his being detained by his secretary when the two of them just happened to be alone on the terrace was rather convenient. She pushed the thought aside as being unworthy. What possible reason could Lord Romsey have to abduct her? Besides, she was the one who insisted upon walking outside. He had advised against it. He was an honourable man, albeit a slave to duty. He could not even attend a ball without matters of state intruding upon his leisure time.
She thought about their lively discourse during their dance together and, joy of joys, heated invaded her insides, helping to counter the increasingly frozen state of her limbs. An odd, pleasurable sensation spread through her mid-section as she recalled Lord Romsey’s shy, lopsided smile when he corrected her about the colour of her own eyes. No one had ever done that before. Of course, he was a diplomat and, as he had said himself, trained to notice small details. She should not read too much into his powers of observation.
Her brothers were all disgustingly handsome, self-assured hellions. Anna thought Lord Romsey to be just as handsome, but she doubted whether he had ever acted spontaneously in his entire life, even as a child. He was self-contained, as though he had never learned how to have fun. Every word he spoke was measured, carefully thought through. Except when he danced with her. She was perfectly sure he had enjoyed her society and allowed himself to relax.
But his fleeting pleasure would now be tempered by her brothers’ anger. They would hold him responsible for her disappearance, which would have an adverse effect on their already rocky relationship. If Anna got out of this unharmed, Lord Romsey would not wish to know her. She had already caused him quite enough trouble, and nothing could be permitted to come between him and his blasted duty.
“We shall see about that,” she said aloud, more determined than ever to broaden his horizons.
Anna rubbed her hands together, stood up, and stamped her feet in a futile effort to restore some feeling into them. She waved her arms around and tried to get the blood flowing through her body. Her efforts proved woefully inadequate. She paused when she heard voices on the other side of the door. She thought it was the two men who had brought her here, but she couldn’t hear what they actually said. Perhaps that was not such a bad thing. Ignorance was sometimes bliss. She had obviously been abducted by order, otherwise why would someone be coming to talk to her? What possible information could she possess that required such dangerous, daring, and drastic action?
Anna kicked off her damp slippers. They were making her feet even colder. She felt about until she found the old sack they had used to cover her head. Using all her strength, she rent it in half, and then half again. She tied a piece around each foot as tightly as she could manage. Wiggling her toes, she felt a little, a very little, warmer. She managed a wry smile as she imagined what she must look like. A beautiful but torn ball gown, sacking on her feet, her hair falling all over the place, her lip cut and caked with dried blood, and her entire body blue with cold.
But she was alive.
Never lose sight of that fact, she told herself repeatedly.
Anna was unsure how long she sat there, her arms cuddling her upraised knees beneath the ratty blanket, colder than she had been in her entire life. To her astonishment she must have dozed because something, some sound, woke her. No, not a sound, she realised, but lack of it. The storm had passed, the wind was gone, and it was now deathly quiet. She opened her eyes and gasped with relief. There was some light in the room. She could see the shape of the boxes stacked all around her quite clearly. It took her a moment to realise the light was coming from the window. The sky was now crystal clear, lit up by a near full moon.
She moved slowly and awkwardly on stiff limbs, shuffling across to the window. Yes, she was definitely close to the wharf. She could smell the rancid river and see other large warehouses looming nearby. What had actually woken her was the sound of a branch knocking against her window. It must have been drowned out before now by the storm. She looked more closely, astonished to see such a large tree in the area. A large tree with strong branches. Just like the ones she and boys delighted in climbing when they were younger. She shook her head. It was many years since she had climbed a tree. Besides, those trees had not been covered in frost and snow, nor had they been situated in an area with which she was unfamiliar. Even if she escaped, she was in a derelict part of town, wearing a ball gown and sacking slippers. She would be set upon in seconds, if only for the value of the silk gown.
She shook her head and returned to her chair, the brief hope that had flared quickly diminished. Escape was impossible.
Close to tears of despair, her head jerked up when she heard a new voice on the other side of the wall. A voice that exuded authority, and to which the other two men deferred. This, presumably, was the person who had come to talk to her.
“Is she here?”
“Yes, sir. In there.”
“Let me see.”
Anna straightened her spine, expecting the door to open at any moment. Instead, a flap was pushed up in the wall beside the door and a light shone through it. It blinded Anna, and she covered her eyes. The light was abruptly withdrawn, the flap closed, and Anna’s ears were assaulted by colourful swearing.
“You fools! You got the wrong woman.”
“But…but you said to get the one with the colourful shawl. You said she would be on the terrace at some point. She was the only one out there, and she was wearing a colourful shawl.”
Dear God, it wasn’t her they had wanted, Anna thought desperately. It was Frankie. What would they do with her now? She wasn’t left in ignorance for long.
“That is Lady Annalise Sheridan, the sister to a duke,” the newcomer said. “Perdition, the duke will make the devil of a stink about this.”
Most certainly!
“How were we to know?” one of the men asked peevishly.
One factor did manage to penetrate her addled brain. It was unlikely she would be offered an apology and returned home.
“You will have to get rid of her,” the newcomer said. Anna gasped, her worse fears realised. “But leave it until I am well clear of the district.”
***
“Whom do I think abducted Lady Annalise?” Clarence repeated Winchester’s question in a measured tone, cupping his chin in his hand as he thought about it. “I would give a very great deal to know not only whom by, but why. I am completely without firm intelligence to guide me. I had absolutely no idea anything like this was planned, which in itself is unusual. It’s such an audacious crime that word really ought to have leaked out.”
“You both think this was no opportunistic abduction?” Vince asked, sharing a glance between Clarence and Winchester.
“Romsey’s situation has given him the opportunity to make a lot of enemies,” Winchester told his brother.
“Part and parcel of my role,” Clarence replied indifferently.