“Better now that I’m having Duke to show her the way.”
“I’ll see you back at Stanwood House.”
He escorted her to the door. “I won’t be long. She is unable to pay attention for more than twenty minutes.”
The dogs were with Harold making their way through the square when Grace walked down the steps and onto the pavement.
“My lord?”
Matt closed the door. “Yes, Thorton?”
“Mr. Timmons wishes to know when you would—”
A woman’s scream rent the air.
Grace!
Matt tore the door open and bolted down the steps, but the old, black coach was already turning the corner, both Danes following.
The footman darted across the street. “My lord, her ladyship’s been taken!”
Matt’s blood turned to ice. “Harold, did they say anything?”
“I heard something about a Miss Betsy.”
Damn. If Matt didn’t get her back quickly, who knew what they’d do to her. Whoever was behind this would pay, and pay dearly. His long strides ate the distance back to his house. “Thorton, get my horse now. We don’t have a moment to lose.”
“Worthington.” Jane gasped for air as she came running up. “We saw what happened. Hector’s following in his curricle.”
Matt nodded tightly. “Take care of the children until we get back.”
“I shall. You just worry about rescuing Grace.”
Matt strode through the garden, into the mews behind, just as his groom brought out his horse. Without saying a word he swung himself up on the large gelding. If Harold was right and the kidnappers were taking Grace to Miss Betsy’s, he might be able to make it to Regent Street before they did. Even though the road was not completely finished, it would be their fastest route to the Covent Garden area where the brothel was located. The one thing in his favor was that the coach was not yet headed in the right direction. He rode at a fast trot out of the alley and onto Bruton Street.
With any luck at all, he’d be able to cut them off.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grace’s bonnet was still askew as she jerked down her skirts and righted herself. Her heart raced causing her to feel vaguely ill. Either that or it was the odor from the two men. Other than a discrepancy in age, they looked very much alike.
The deep barks that had sounded from either side of the hackney had ceased. Were the dogs still with them or not?
Suddenly the driver shouted and the coach slowed. “Get off, you damned beasts.”
“What’s goin’ on out there?” the older man next to her yelled.
“The blasted dogs are nipping at the horse.”
“Call yer dogs off,” the scoundrel growled.
The coach swung right, and Grace grabbed on to the strap to keep from falling off the seat. “Even if they listened to me, why would I wish them to stop?”
Suddenly Duke jumped up, lunging at the window, snarling.
The blackguard clutched her bare arm, sinking his fingers painfully into her skin. “Do what I’m tellin’ you to, or I’ll hurt ye.”
The last thing she’d do was try to send the dogs away. If she could find a way out of this mess, they would likely be her only protection. “He only listens to Lord Worthington.”
