A Lady's Guide to Ruin (20 page)

“Good evening,
Joan
,” he said, and grinned.

She spun. He lunged, catching hold of the back of her dress and hauling her back. She stumbled against him. Something wet and foul pressed against her mouth. Fox snarled and lunged for Grey. His foot lashed out, connecting with the little dog's ribs. She screamed against the cloth as the dog skidded backward with a yelp. Her legs went out from under her. The night grew thick—or was it only her vision, fading?

Fox wasn't moving. She clawed at Grey's sleeve, but his arm was like an iron bar across her chest.
No
, she thought desperately.
No, I was so close . . .

Then the darkness was complete.

She came to with the pommel of a saddle digging into her stomach. Her nose was filled with the smell of horse. Her head pounded. She'd been flung over the front of Grey's saddle and all her blood seemed to be pooling in the vicinity of her skull. She thrashed experimentally. Her limbs were weak. Her wrists and ankles were bound, and a gag was stuffed between her teeth, leaving her mouth horribly dry. Pale light lit the ground beneath her. Almost morning. She thrashed again.

“Hey, watch it, she's going to fall,” a familiar voice said.

Moses
. She froze.

“Didn't think she'd wake up so soon,” Grey said. She heard his footsteps, then he was hauling her off the horse. The horse sidled and snorted. She struggled in Grey's grasp, but he threw her over his shoulder. Her face pressed against his back. “Get that open, then.”

A creak of hinges sounded, then Grey was hauling her inside a small stone building. He tossed her down with all the care he'd give a sack of potatoes, and her head struck the far wall. Stars danced in her vision.

“Did you search her?” Hugh, now. He appeared in the doorway behind Grey. Moses lingered outside, looking anxious. Why was Grey with them?

“They're not on her,” Grey said. “I checked thoroughly.”

She shuddered at the thought of his hands on her.

A labored breath drew her head around sharply. She regretted it immediately: her temples pounded, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. When her vision cleared again, she could make out a huddled form in the other corner of the little shack. A girl with dirt-streaked cheeks, lying unconscious on her side. Daphne.
How the hell . . . ?

“I'll check her,” Hugh said. He started forward. Grey put out a hand.

“I said I looked.”

Hugh stiffened. Then he grinned and clapped Grey on the shoulder. “I trust you, mate. But I also know where she likes to tuck things away. Could be I find something you missed, on account of knowing her. That's all.”

Grey shrugged. “Have it your way.”

Hugh came forward. Joan pressed herself against the wall.

“Now, now. Don't do that,” Hugh said. He had always reminded her of a smear of something scraped off a boot: thin, long, and unpleasant. His spidery fingers went to her hair, prodding at her scalp. She tried to bring her feet up to plant them in his midsection but he forced her knees down roughly and straddled them, pinning her. “No need for that,” he said.

He felt along her hemline, dipped his fingers between her breasts. Moses let out an indignant noise at that, lurching forward with a hand closing into a fist. Hugh glanced back. “You want to do this, then?” he asked. Moses subsided, face red.

“Sorry, Joan,” Moses said. “Only, you did run off and all.” She glared at him and he looked away.

Hugh spared no inch of her or her clothes, which were already in disarray. She turned her face against the wall when he ran his hands along the insides of her legs. At least he didn't linger there. Not in front of Moses. He knew better.

“Nothing,” he said, rising to his feet. “Huh.” He scratched at his chin, rough with a yellow beard.

“So where are they?” Grey asked impatiently. Joan tested the ropes binding her hands. Tight. But the knots . . . she thought she could get them loose in time. Not Hugh's work, or she'd be stuck until she was nothing but bones.

“Better ask her that,” Hugh said, sounding bored. She stilled. She knew that tone. It arrived right before the bloodshed started. He bent down. Wagged a finger in front of her face. “Don't bite,” he said. He reached around and untied the gag, then tore it roughly from her mouth.

She retched. Her stomach clenched, threatening to empty what little remained in it onto the floor. Hugh grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Where are they, sweet? Those pretty little pebbles you stole.”

She didn't have the moisture to spit in his face, so she settled for baring her teeth. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

“Obviously.” He twisted her head to the side, forcing her to look at Daphne. The girl was gagged, too, and her hands bound in front of her. She hadn't moved but her
chest rose and fell at steady intervals. Alive, but drugged. “See that? Miss Daphne Hargrove. When we realized you'd taken her place, we tracked her down. Wasn't hard to find. If only her family had known to look, she'd be safe and snug in bed, waiting for breakfast. But you had to go and trick them, and she's here with us instead. And she'll stay here, and so will you. Until we have the diamonds.”

“Then what?” Joan asked. “You'll let us go?”

“I'll let
her
go,” he said. “You get to stay.”

“Then why should I tell you anything?” she asked, forcing a laugh past her teeth. “Why should I care about the girl?”

“Oh, Joanie. Silly duck. How long have we known each other?” He patted her cheek in a mockery of affection. “You won't let any harm come to that little moppet. You know it. I know it. So don't waste my time.”

She shut her eyes. That only made the room spin all the more. “You'll let her go? You swear?”

“Once we have the diamonds, I'll ‘rescue' her,” Grey said. He sounded proud of himself. “She's my way back into my wife's good graces. I won't damage that.”

He actually seemed to be trying to reassure her. She opened her eyes and glared at him. “You're an idiot, you know that?” She'd misjudged him. Then again, Hugh did have a talent for talking people into fool schemes.

Grey snarled. Hugh held up a restraining hand. “The diamonds, pet.”

She'd almost managed to forget about his damn nicknames for her. Forgotten, too, the rancid smell of his breath, and the way his fingers moved constantly, as if looking for something to pinch. “There's a cottage. Near the ruins,” she said. “I left a bag of belongings there. The diamonds
are behind a loose brick in the hearth.” She raised her voice. “Moses, if you let Hugh do anything to the girl, father's going to haunt you 'til you join him.”

“Don't worry, love. We'll take good care of her.” Hugh patted her cheek, then stuffed the gag back into her mouth and knotted it. She didn't bother trying to lash out at him. It would only make her head hurt worse. Better to save her energy.

“It'll be all right,” Moses said as Hugh stepped outside. “We'll sort things out. You stole from us, so we're going to have to do something about that, sure. But we'll get it all sorted out.” His voice held a hint of the boy who had presented her with that kitten, that pair of shoes. But the anger smoldering beneath stamped out any hope of help from that quarter. He wouldn't let Hugh kill her, but she wasn't getting out of this whole.

Hugh shut the door to the little shed, and a chain rattled into place. The men's voices were indistinct through the wood, but she could make out Hugh and Grey arguing over who should go back to get the gems.

She wriggled, lying half on her side and using her feet to push her toward Daphne. She felt like a seal flopping across a pier.

When she was near enough to nudge the girl, she worked her legs around and jostled Daphne with a knee. “Harmf,” she said, which was about all she could manage with the gag.

Daphne's eyes flew open. Joan froze in surprise. The girl lifted both bound hands to her mouth and pressed a trembling finger to her lips. Joan nodded. They waited. The arguing had died down; Hugh and Grey would both go. They didn't trust each other, she thought with some
satisfaction. She might be able to use that, but she doubted it. Hugh was too canny to be manipulated. He knew her tricks, and wouldn't trust a thing she said. Grey might be more amenable to persuasion, but she'd humiliated him. He wouldn't forgive her easily.

Which left Moses.

The chain rattled. She didn't have time to get back into place. She steeled herself. The light hit her hard, and she flinched. Hugh grunted.

“Checking she's still breathing? Don't you worry.” He stepped in and grabbed hold of Joan's arm, dragging her back to the other side of the shed. “Give it here.” He reached back. Grey had something. A manacle. She struggled then, but Hugh held fast. He closed the manacle around one of her ankles and fit the other end to an iron loop jutting out of the wall. “Don't fuss,” he said. He slapped her leg lightly, then tugged on the chain. “There you go. Can't have you slipping the ropes now, can we? All right, Grey. Lead on.”

Joan swore silently but eloquently as the door closed, the chain moved into place, and the men's voices faded. Daphne sat up slowly, wincing. A few shafts of light fit in through chinks in the wall and the patchy roof. At least they weren't in the dark.

Daphne's legs were tied loosely, the ropes giving her room enough to crawl, if only barely. She prized the gag from her own mouth, then shuffled to Joan's side and repeated the process.

“Check out the door,” Joan whispered. “See if Moses is close.”

Daphne nodded and complied. She returned a moment later with a shake of her head. “He's off a ways, pacing around. We should be all right if we whisper. Who are you?”

“Don't recognize me?” Joan grinned without humor. “I don't blame you. I'm the one you left your letter with. What happened to you?”

“I was in Scotland,” Daphne said. Joan nodded, impatient. “Richard . . . Richard was going to marry me, but then he started talking about his father. My father. Everyone back home. So he left. And I couldn't just go back. Not with everyone knowing. So I waited. I hoped he would come back. But he didn't.” She paused. A shudder went through her. “Someone else did. That man, Hugh. He told me that Richard had sent him, but it wasn't true. He made me go with him. Threatened me.

“He kept saying he'd take me to my cousins, and there'd be a trade. But then we got here, and the other one, Moses, said it wouldn't work. Said he didn't think Lord Fenbrook would hand you over. Then they found Lord Grey, and he said he could get on the grounds and grab you himself. They thought I was asleep, but I wasn't,” she finished. “Not all the time, anyway.”

Joan gave her a tight smile. “That was smart, fooling them like that. If they come back, you do the same thing.” Grey's plan depended on Daphne being unaware of his involvement.
If he'd known she was awake . . .
She didn't want to dwell on the thought. “We're going to get out of here. Both of us.”

“But how?”

“We'll find a way. Are you hurt?”

Daphne shook her head. Then shrugged. “A little. They knocked me out with something that smelled terrible. It gave me a headache.”

“They used the same thing on me,” Joan said. She shut her eyes. Damn her headache. She couldn't think. Could
hardly see straight. “If you got out of here, could you make it to Birch Hall?”

“I've never been there,” Daphne said dubiously.

“Do you know where we are now?”

Daphne sketched a description of a trek from the village. She hadn't seen much but it was enough for Joan to guess the general direction.

“East,” she said. “If you get loose, head east.”

“That depends on us getting out,” Daphne pointed out.

Joan nodded. “Working on that. Is there anything sharp in here? Something that might cut the ropes?”

Daphne shook her head. “Nothing. Just us, and . . .” She shrugged feebly.

Joan took her own stock of the shack. It had been emptied completely, not even a splinter of wood left to serve as a weapon. The walls were wood, old but not rotted through. Light slid between a gap in the boards, and through the roof, where several wooden shingles had fallen. She gauged the height. If one of them boosted the other, they could reach the roof. A few more shingles knocked down and they'd be able to drop down to the other side.

Neither of them could reach it hobbled, nor do much once they got out. She cast around on the ground for something, anything. She let out a huff of frustration. “How are you with knots?” she asked.

“Not good. But I can try.” Daphne edged closer. “Your hands?”

Joan nodded and shifted around so Daphne could get at her back. The girl's fingers fumbled with the thin rope. Joan shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, trying just to breathe. Her stomach clenched and her skin crawled. “Hurry,” she hissed.

“I'm trying,” Daphne whispered miserably.

Joan sighed. All she could do was wait, and hope.

*   *   *

Martin woke with the sun hard and bright on his face. He reached beside him, not quite awake enough to realize what he was reaching for until he found it gone. Daphne. He opened his eyes and sat up, half-expecting to find her perched on the toppled column once again. But he was alone in the clearing, his clothes in a dissolute heap a little ways away. He frowned. Of course she was gone. She could hardly waltz back with him after a night like that; they were not even
properly
engaged.