Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Evangelina’s vision blurred as she stepped onto the narrow lane that wound through the park, trees lining either side with branches that entwined over her head. She felt the tight burn in her throat as she walked, scuffing her toe in the packed dirt. Carson’s presence beside her probably should have been comforting, but Evangelina did not want to be comforted. Sniffling, she turned to him.

“Carson,” her voice squeaked. “Can you please give me a few feet? You don’t have to go away, just…a bit of distance would be appreciated.”

Carson looked utterly horrified at her distraught expression and quickly halted. “I don’t know about that, Mrs. Marston.”

The title made tears spill over her eyes, and the corners of her mouth turned down sharply. If Carson looked horrified before, he turned absolutely petrified afterward.

“Of course ma’am. I’ll be just here,” he said quickly, actually taking a large step back to show her. “Take care not to go too far.”

“Thank you,” Evangelina whispered, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

Evangelina continued on, trying to breathe as her throat constricted and her eyes burned. Evangelina sniffed, brushing the tears from her cheeks. Blast the man! Why did he do this to her? And how did he have the ability to turn her into such a mess? It was some kind of magic Zeke had, that he could so entrance and so undo her in just a few days. She stared down at her feet, stomping along the path as she tried to sort through everything that had happened.

Was she truly jealous of a lump of clay, as he’d said? That was utterly preposterous. But was that really as crazy as it sounded when Zeke was practically making love to it and he hadn’t so much as kissed her since their wedding? At least, not a real kiss. A few sweet pecks, but nothing that even approached the first. They were newlyweds! Evangelina was not so foolish as to think they would have the same situation in the early days of their marriage as Rowan and Samira did, but at least some affection she hadn’t thought would be too much to ask.

And lying with each other, wasn’t that what husbands and wives were supposed to do, more even than just were allowed? Evangelina had gone to great lengths, even told Madame Seraphine about it, to try and seduce her own husband, and still it had all fallen apart! Even Evangelina’s dressmaker had a greater degree of carnal knowledge about Eva’s husband than Eva did. It was maddening, and it was humiliating, and she hated it. She hated everything. She wanted to run, to flee, to–

A jarring contact at her shoulder nearly spun her off her feet. Evangelina knew she wasn’t watching where she was going, but it had come out of nowhere, jostling her off balance.

“Sorry,” Evangelina started to say, her eyes lifting in time to see not a person but a hand shooting out toward her.

The hand clamped around her mouth and Evangelina tried to scream, but the hand was huge and strong and gripped her in a vice. The world spun around her, and Evangelina suddenly didn’t have her feet any longer. She was moving, but not of her own volition, her mind slow and stupid for a long moment trying to understand how that was possible as they dove back from the path and into the stand of trees. The man who had her hauled her off the path had her arms pinned tight behind her back with one of his forearms, the other hand grasped tight to her mouth. Evangelina wrenched her head, trying to see the man who caught her as her body started to work again, her mind becoming hers through the haze of terror and confusion.

“Got ‘er,” the man said in a rough accent.

She tried to memorize the sound. If Evangelina couldn’t see him, perhaps his voice, plainly accented, could help her identify him. Then, the person to whom he spoke made himself known.

“Tie ‘er up and we’ll gi’ on,” another man responded.

Evangelina screamed, the sound muffled against the powerful, meaty hand as she writhed and kicked. He pinched her nose, and she squealed, bringing her slippered foot down onto his boot with no effect.

“Careful,” the second man cautioned, his voice smoother and richer than the first. “Dinna want tae suffocate her. Won’t be worth anythin’ dead.”

The man holding her jerked her head back just as she sunk her teeth into his skin. He hissed, but didn’t budge.

“I ken how to hold a wee girl wi’out doin’ damage,” snapped her captor. “Get the stuff and we’ll get out of here.”

The other moved in front of Evangelina’s blurry field of vision as tears filled her eyes. He was massive, so big it terrified Evangelina to the very core. His hair was a dark, dark red like spilled blood turned aged. And his eyes, they were perhaps most unnerving of all, eyes like a jungle cat’s, practically yellow. Evangelina thrashed, yanking against the iron grip of the man behind her, but she was tiring. In a moment, the second man stepped closer, his gaze held tight on hers, and Evangelina stilled. She felt cornered, like a helpless creature strung up as bait for a great predator. And as the man reached out for her, she caught sight of a strange something in his eye, a feeling she could not name, almost like…regret? But that could not be it.

In a momentary exchange, the hand was removed from her mouth and a rag was stuffed over her face. For that brief second, her lips were free, but she did not know to have her cry ready, so the shout was given into the rag covering her nose and mouth. At her first breath, the world started to go dark around the edges. She’d heard of things like this, things to render someone unconscious, to make them easier to abscond with, or even to hurt. Evangelina’s body wanted to swoon, and she thought it was not just from the affects of whatever chemical soaked the rag. Still, Evangelina fought it with every ounce of her being. She tried not to breathe, but in a few moments, the burning needs of her body overrode any thought, and she took in a deep, desperate gulp of air. With that, the whole world turned black.

Zeke broke into a jog as he came through the trees. He had no idea what he was going to say to Evangelina when he saw her, but Celeste was right about it all. Nothing was letting him free of his obsession with Evangelina, and he had to face that head-on. He rounded a bend and nearly ran into Carson.

“Sir!” the man said, sounding winded.

Zeke looked sharply around them. “Where is Mrs. Marston?”

The name still sounded strange on his tongue, but he could not find her, and it had been the most natural of things to call her thus.

“I–I don’t know sir,” stammered Carson.

Zeke’s blood went to ice. “What?”

“She wanted to walk a bit ahead, and I wasn’t so far back,” Carson clenched the brim of his hat until it creased. “I didn’t see the harm…”

“Do you see the harm now?” snapped Zeke, shoving past the man. “Eva?”

He said her name, then shouted it, cupping his hands as he rushed down the path. “Evangelina!”

Maybe she had just stepped away for a moment. She was angry, hurt, humiliated, he knew, and perhaps it was all as Carson said, that she just wanted a bit of space. Zeke had hurt her, even if he had never meant to, and he could understand her desire to be on her own a bit, to soothe her wounds in private. But it was dangerous, didn’t she know that? As he rushed on, he met a woman with two young children.

“Excuse me,” he stopped her. “Have you seen a woman, rather small, dark skin and hair, around here?”

The woman just shook her head. “No sir.”

Zeke nodded, rushing onward. He made a loop of the park and  found no sign of her. Even before he finished the circle, he knew he wouldn’t find her. Evangelina might have wandered off, gone walking down the street or in search of a bookshop or an ice, but he knew better. Zeke hadn’t known Evangelina long, but he knew full well that she would never be so inconsiderate. A young girl, hurt and angry, she might be foolish enough to wander off on her own, but no matter how distraught she was, Zeke knew to the marrow of his bones that she would never risk worrying him or Carson, let alone her sister if Samira found out.

Zeke looked both directions, up and down the road, and saw no signs of anything amiss. A hand squeezed his heart, and a strange, pulsing darkness closed in around him. He braced his hands on his knees, trying desperately to breathe. Evangelina was gone. She was gone, and there could truly be only one explanation as to what had happened. His insides rioted at the idea, and he swallowed hard, breathing through his nose to try and keep his stomach.

Forcing himself to stand straight, Zeke instructed Carson to ask around the park to see what he could learn, if anyone had seen Evangelina, and perhaps where she had been taken, or at least a direction. Zeke rushed to the nearest police station, determined to get reinforcements. He had to rant and rave a bit, drop Rowan’s name, then drop Conway’s name, until a detective finally saw him. He’d heard tell that the Metropolitan police were not exactly the shining examples of a police force, but they were what he had. Once Zeke had explained the situation to the detective in as calm a manner as he could manage when panic was threatening his every word, the detective stroked his rather impressive mustache.

“Man’s her father, you say?” asked the detective.

“He thinks he is,” said Zeke, pushing the story they’d agreed on in secret, Patrice promising to swear in every way she could that the Earl had not fathered Evangelina if it came to that. “Or says he is. But she is my wife.”

“Then why are you so worried about her going off with her father?” asked the man. “I’m sure she’ll come back in due time.”

Zeke slammed his fist down on the table. “She is in danger from him! He likely is trying to marry her off, sell her to the highest bidder to pay off his own debts.”

The man raised his bushy eyebrows. “Earl of Claymore, you say?”

Zeke gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

“Aren’t you toffs supposed to be better than the riff raff?” asked the man. “Wouldn’t worry about her if I was you.”

“Well you’re not me, and I am extremely worried,” snapped Zeke.

The man chuckled. Zeke had never in his life hit another person, not even his brothers when they had roughhoused as children, but he was damn close to doing so now.

“Look, sir,” the detective steepled his fingers. “You’re worried about him trying to marry her off, but you’re wed to her, eh?”

Zeke nodded. “I am.”

“Well, if it’s a legal union, then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” said the man.

Zeke’s stomach dropped. It was legal, except for one crucial piece. She was still a virgin, and if Claymore’s plan was to sell her to the highest bidder, as a legal wife or something else, that would hardly be prevented by a piece of paper if the Earl and his buyer wanted her badly enough. Zeke shoved back from the desk and stalked out, deciding not to waste his energy trying to pound the so-called detective into understanding. Zeke had more important things to do, and he was going to have to do it fast. Still more, he couldn’t do it alone.

Samira closed her fingers tight around the bedpost, gripping until her nails dug into the wood. A loud pounding echoed in her head, louder even than her heartbeat that was thundering like a storm inside her. She ignored it in favor of the deliciously wicked little circles Rowan was making with his tongue. The pounding she realized was a knock came again.

“Go away!” Rowan cried breathlessly, grasping Samira’s hips and yanking her closer so that her hands slipped from the post and came down to his shoulders.

He dragged his body up hers, rubbing his erection against her intimate cradle, making her groan with the need to be filled. Rowan smiled in brilliant triumph, and then he moved back to his work.

“It’s me!” the voice came on the other side.

Dimly, Samira recognized it as Ezekiel.

Rowan raised his head from between his wife’s thighs. “What the hell is it, Zeke? I’m a bit busy.”

“Now, Rowan!” Ezekiel snapped, shouting through the door. “It’s an emergency.”

Samira rolled her eyes and kicked Rowan lightly in the ribs. “Hurry back, or I’m finishing without you.”

Grumbling, Rowan adjusted himself in his trousers and sidled over to the door. He jerked it open about a inch and a half, and he and Zeke began conversing in low tones.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Rowan exploded.

Samira lept from the bed and snatched up Rowan’s shirt as the men’s voices returned to a low level. She shrugged on the shirt that smelled strongly of Rowan’s masculine scents, and she made quick, sloppy work of the buttons. In a moment, Samira appeared in the doorway, wrapped in Rowan’s misbuttoned shirt that covered her, albeit immodestly. She pulled open the door so that she and Rowan stood together before Zeke.

“What is it?” Samira demanded.

“Darling,” Rowan reached out, clasping her by the waist and drawing her tight against his side. “It’s going to be all right, but we can’t find Evangelina.”

She stiffened at his side, her head snapping to Zeke. “You lost her?”

Rowan pinched her lightly. “They had a fight, Samira. Go easy on him.”

Samira jerked out of his arms and stepped toward Zeke. “A fight? What did you do to my sister?”

“Dammit, Samira!” snapped Zeke. “We fought because I haven’t bedded her because you acted like I’d be committing some cardinal sin and doing irreparable damage by following something we both wanted, and now she thinks I don’t want her at all. That’s why she went running off and that’s why I lost her.”

Samira shifted, both her body and the conversation. “Very well. Does the Earl have her?”

“I cannot come to any other conclusion,” said Zeke.

Samira felt like she was going to vomit. “Where do you think he’ll take her?”

Zeke rubbed the back of his neck. “North, it seems. A carriage was seen leaving the park not long after Evangelina entered it, and it left town toward the North. She could still be in the city of course, so I think it wise we split our resources.”

“What did you have in mind?” asked Rowan.

“I’m going to talk to Andrew and see if he’ll ride with me North. We’re a couple hours behind, but we should be able to make that up on horseback and be able to overtake a carriage quickly, as long as they don’t veer off the main road too soon. But we’ll stop at the large coaching inns and make inquiries,” said Zeke. “In the meantime, if you remain here and work on trying to ascertain if she might still be in the city, or if you can find any evidence of where their final destination might be.”

Rowan nodded quickly. “Let me dress.”

“Wait!” Samira cried. “Shouldn’t you be the one going after her? Rowan?”

Rowan met his wife’s gaze and took her hand. “We will do everything we can, my love, but I trust Zeke’s plan.” He glanced back to his brother and nodded. “Go on, and godspeed.”

Zeke nodded and rushed away, down the stairs and to his task. Samira watched as Rowan tugged on another shirt, and Samira swiped aggressively at the tears that refused to stay dammed.

“Rowan,” her voice cracked.

His own eyes shined as he looked up at her, still working on his buttons.

“I know you love your brother, and I know you want to let him be his own man, but this is the life of my sister,” Samira squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to push all the tears from them.

Rowan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. “I promise, Samira, if I thought I could do any better than Zeke, I would go.”

She buried her face in his chest. “But you’re a Viscount! You could influence–”

“And Claymore is an Earl,” Rowan clasped her face and lifted it to his. “We will find her. Zeke will get her back, and as her husband he will have more authority to take her with him than you or I up against the Earl. Meanwhile, while Zeke goes to get Eva, you and I will find something that ensures the Earl can never take her back.”

Samira stared up at him. “What?”

He squeezed her chin. “How good did you say you are with cracking safes, my love?”

A faint smile quirked at the corner of Samira’s mouth. “Good enough.”

“Get dressed,” he instructed. “I’m going to make a few inquiries, and you get everything together that you might need. Tonight, we’re back to our old tricks.”

With a flutter in her stomach and her heart racing in her chest, Samira set to her tasks, relieved for the moment to have something productive to do, otherwise she would have gone mad with worry. Where was Evangelina? Was she all right? Were they hurting her?

No, Samira forced her mind back to the task at hand. This was how she could help, by following the plan and doing what she did best.

Zeke thumped on the door until it was thrown open by Andrew Montgomery’s valet. Without waiting for an announcement, Zeke started hollering for his friend. He bounded through the small front room that was hardly even a room and into Andrew’s chambers.

“Ye gads, Zeke!” Andrew was in the process of doing up his shirt as his friend barged in. “Is there a fire?”

“My wife has been kidnapped,” Zeke said flatly.

Andrew went absolutely still. “Your what has been what?”

“My wife,” Zeke clarified. “It’s all been a rather hasty business. I wed her to protect her from the man who’s taken her.”

“Well that didn’t work out so well, did it?” Andrew said a bit wryly.

“This is not the time for jokes!” cried Zeke.

Andrew nodded, a bit abashed. “Of course. Sorry, this is just extremely unreal; Would you like a drink?”

“No!” Zeke ran a hand through his hair. “No, I need you to come with me to try and find her.”

Andrew laughed. Zeke scowled.

“My God, man, I assumed you were jesting! You want us to go hunt down kidnappers?” Andrew practically squeaked.

“They have my wife,” Zeke repeated.

Andrew sighed. “Yes, and I’m sure that’s difficult, but you have gone to the police, haven’t you?”

“Of course,” said Zeke. “But they aren’t willing to go chasing her across the countryside, and if he gets her over the border, he’ll have far more authority in Scotland than we do.”

Andrew paled. “Scotland? You think the two of us are going to chase her over hill and dale into the Highlands?”

Zeke mumbled something that sounded like an affirmative. He had decided that the most likely destination considering “North” was the general direction, the Earl himself was Scottish, and the rules around marriage were far more relaxed there. The Earl was liable to take advantage of anything he could, and Scotland seemed the place to do it.

Andrew heaved a sigh. “Zeke, do you remember why the two of us became friends?”

“We don’t have time–” Zeke started, but Andrew kept on.

“Because neither of us was the exemplar of masculinity our fathers were hoping for. Painting and poetry over hunting and boxing; lounging, drinking, reading, rather than bloodsport and riding. We are not the people to go rushing after her across the countryside. We aren’t built for it. Let the police do their jobs.”

Zeke shook his head violently. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Andrew demanded.

“You don’t understand,” Zeke threw up his hands. “You’ve never been –” he stalled. “Married.”

Lord, had he been about to say in love? Where the hell had that come from? Just from concern, surely, and his penchant for dramatics. He carried for Evangelina a great deal, but he was certainly not in love with her.

Andrew eyed him. “All right, I see your point. Listen, I wouldn’t be a help to you there, and in fact I think I might be a hindrance, but I know some people who might be able to help. Your brother isn’t going?”

Zeke shook his head. “Rowan’s going to stay and check some things here, and Joel…wouldn’t be much help.”

Andrew nodded. “Very well. Do you know Nathaniel Blake?”

Zeke nodded. “A little. Bastard son of a Duke?”

“That’s the one,” Andrew said. “He’s the best swordsman I’ve ever met, and he’s a helluva shot with a pistol, too. He’s a good man to have watching your back, and he’s got a taste for adventure.”

“Take me to him,” Zeke said flatly.

Several hours later, Zeke found himself incredibly thankful for the duration of the light on summer nights as he approached the rendezvous point on horseback. He’d hurried every moment, but it was always too long to get everything ready. He had a small pack on his horse’s saddle, a gun strapped to his hip, and another in the saddlebag. He didn’t wait at the spot for long when he caught sight of three men riding rapidly up.

The leader was a tall, dark man, noticeably darker than Evangelina, darker even than Samira. Zeke suddenly recalled the story, that the man’s mother had been born into slavery before being freed and having an affair with the Duke, begetting Nathaniel Blake from the union. His father had made his bastard some Baron or something, a title fashioned to confer some legitimacy, and from the looks of the man approaching Zeke on a massive, black gelding, he likely didn’t fit the trappings of nobility any better than Zeke did, albeit for different reasons.

“You must be Lord Blake,” Zeke stuck out his hand as the man slowed his horse close to Zeke.

“Nathaniel,” the man said, clasping it and giving a firm shake. “Andrew filled me in. I’m happy to help.”

Zeke nodded over the other man’s shoulder. “I see you brought reinforcements.”

Nathaniel nodded, turning to look back at the two men with him. “My best friend, Lord Sidney Cartwright, and his cousin, Lieutenant Cartwright.”

Zeke greeted the both of them with a single, curt nod, his gaze falling on the latter. “You an army man, Lieutenant?”

“Navy, sir,” he said smoothly. “But I’ve seen action, up close.”

Zeke grasped his horse’s reins in a firm, steady grip. “Well then, let’s be off gentlemen.”

They tore off down the road to the North, pushing as fast as they dared, rushing toward the first stopping place they could find. Once there, the Lieutenant and his cousin swung down, and Nathaniel urged Zeke on, saying the two cousins would catch up at the next inn, and they would not all have to wait at every place.

“You say this man is trying to marry off your wife to someone else?” asked Nathaniel as they stopped their canter for a bit to give the horses a short reprieve.

“That is what we think,” said Zeke.

Nathaniel nodded. “You’re armed?”

“I brought two pistols,” Zeke answered.

“How good are you with them?” Nathaniel pressed.

Zeke shifted in the saddle. “Likely not as good as you.”

Nathaniel grunted. “Well, you’d best be ready to shoot them, no matter what, because if that man wants her married to someone else and he gets a clear shot at her current husband, it’s going to be kill or be killed, make no mistake about it.”

Zeke nodded. “I know.”