“Grimsby!” he shouted. “Where are you?”
“Here, Your Grace!” he heard the man shout back from the other side of the inn. “They’re getting away! They’re on horseback!”
But James didn’t need the guard to tell him this. Because he could see in the distance a horse with two figures on its back, one holding the reins and the other thrown over the back, like a sack of potatoes.
James’s whole body tensed up. Then hate,rageas he had never felt before filled him, and he knew that he would be willing to burn down the world if it meant saving his wife.
“You’ve made a huge mistake, Farrell,” he growled. “And you will pay with everything you have.”
Chapter Twelve
“I’m sorry for making your trip uncomfortable, Your Grace, but we need to speak with one another again.”
Violet looked up from the seat where she had been callously shoved to see the sober, thoughtful face of Farrell looking down at her. She resisted the urge to spit on it.
“You have made a big mistake,” she said as calmly as she could, considering the fear, anger, and shame that were coursing through her. She was in her nightclothes, after all,andin front of a man who wasn’t her husband! “My husband is going to have you arrested for this. If he doesn’t kill you himself.”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” Farrell drawled, smiling slightly. “But that is a problem for later. What I’m interested in now is… leverage.”
Violet glared at him. “You think that after one of your goons kidnapped me from my room in the middle of the night, tossed me over the back of a horse, and delivered me here to thesegodforsaken quarters—” The room she was in was part of a house, she’d noticed that as they brought her inside, and not the inn where they’d met Farrell earlier. “Wherever they might be, you think that you are going to have anyleverage?”
“Your husband won’t want you harmed,” Farrell explained, splaying his hands wide.
Violet narrowed her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t hurt me. You wouldn’t dare.”
That made Farrell laugh. “And what makes you so sure?”
“Because you’re not a fool,” she said bluntly. “And you know that if I were harmed in any way, nothing could save you from the Duke’s wrath.”
There was a short silence during which Violet assessed the situation. She wasn’t bound to the chair, which was good. And there were windows in the house. Did that mean she might be able to escape later?
Farrell smiled thinly, and her eyes darted back to his. “You’re right, Your Grace. I do not mean to harm you. Your presence here is merely to demonstrate my power to the Duke and to help persuade him to see things my way. You see, while you and I know you won’t be harmed, I have the impression that your husband will not think rationally about this matter. He is a very passionate man, is he not? And if he is afraid you are in danger, then he will do anything I ask if it guarantees your safe return.”
“You overestimate my husband’s passion for me,” Violet said tartly.
Farrell’s eyes gleamed for a moment. “And you underestimate it.”
The door to the room opened, and Violet was surprised to see a maid enter with a tray of tea and biscuits. The girl set them down on the table between Violet and Farrell and then left, only to reenter moments later with a stack of dresses. These she set down next to the tea tray before bowing and leaving again.
“I must apologize again for the rough manner you were brought here,” Farrell said, pouring her a cup of tea, “but I am here to reassure you that you are my guest in this establishment, and you will be treated with the utmost respect. I had some local women provide these clothes for you, and you will have a lady’s maid at your service. Neither is as grand as you are used to, but I trust you will be comfortable here until we meet with your husband tomorrow.”
“Does he know where I am?” Violet asked.
“He knows you are in my custody and that you are safe. A letter was left for him at the inn you were staying at. Another will be delivered in the morning, before he can summon the constabulary, with directions on where to meet us. And then we will negotiate. As equals.”
“You will never be equal to my husband,” Violet spat.
She expected Farrell to respond with anger, but he merely smiled. “In that regard, you are right. After all, I am the illegitimate son of a fishmonger, and he is a duke. That is why I had to resort to such duplicitous means as kidnapping you—to put us on equal footing for the upcoming negotiations. You might not like my tactics, but this is the world we live in. I didn’t make the rules. In fact, it’s your lot that makes the rules. I just live with them.” He grinned. “And bend them to my liking, of course.”
Violet sat back in her chair and tried to look as disdainful as possible. “Well, I hope your plan works, for your sake. Because I wouldn’t be surprised if the Duke knocks down this door right now and has you cuffed.”
“Drink your tea, Your Grace,” Farrell said as if he hadn’t even heard her. “And then you should get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow, after all.”
He stood up, bowed, and left, leaving her alone in the room.
Violet looked around. It was a small, shabby bedchamber, with a single bed in the corner. Never in her life had she slept in a place like this, but that wasn’t what bothered her. It was being in captivity that made her feel sick with dread. She believed Farrell wouldn’t harm her… for now.
But what about when James refuses to give him what he wants? Will he harm me then?
