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He guffawed. “I think we both know it was me doing the dragging.”
She stepped around him to open the door, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.”
Laughing, he swatted her backside on the way out the door.
{ Chapter 20 }
“Vicky?” Sloane knocked again on Vicky’s door as she glanced to the right at the empty hallway. She’d searched all the nooks and crannies Vicky liked to hide in during parties—her new niece had shown her each spot proudly when Sloane had first stayed at Wolfbridge. Spots where she could watch and listen but no one would notice her.
But Vicky was not in any of them. So Sloane had reversed course and come to her room again. There had been no answer in it an hour ago, but maybe Vicky had slipped back up here while Sloane had been searching.
The cacophony of music and voices floating up from the dining in the great hall trickled through the air, but she could still hear rustling from inside the room. She knocked on the door again. Vicky could be stubborn and Sloane knew she was resisting opening the door for her.
“Vicky.” She knocked. “Please, I must speak with you.”
No answer.
Stubborn or not, Sloane needed to right this wrong with Vicky immediately.
She set her fingers onto the door handle and cracked the door to give Vicky time to prepare for the intrusion.
Flames flickered in the fireplace, lending plenty of light to the room. Vicky had to still be awake—or maybe she was pretending to be asleep.
Sloane pushed the door open a bit further, stepping into the chamber.
She wasn’t fully into the room before a hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her forward and slamming the door closed behind her.
Vicky wasn’t that strong.
Sloane found her footing before stumbling to the floor and she spun. Just to the left of the door waited Lord Bockton—and Vicky. Vicky stood next to him in her nightgown, shaking, with a white strip of cloth cutting tightly across her mouth. Her hands bound behind her, tears were streaming down her face as strangled whimpers smothered against the cloth on her tongue.
“What?” Sloane’s hands flew outward to her niece and she rushed toward Vicky. “What are you doing?”
“Stop if you value your life, your grace.” Lord Bockton flashed something silver through the air.
A pistol.
Hell.
Sloane skidded to a stop. Still too far away from Vicky. Too many steps to reach her.
She tore her gaze off the girl and looked to Bockton. “Please, Lord Bockton, what are you doing with my niece?”
He glanced at Vicky and then grabbed her arm and started to drag her toward the door.
“Stop.” Sloane jumped in front of them, blocking the door while attempting to ignore the pistol aimed at her body. “Let her go. What do you think you’re doing?”
Lord Bockton shoved Sloane to the left with the backside of his gun hand. “Ensuring safe passage out of England. The girl is my insurance against the duke stopping us.”
Sloane flailed off balance for a step, then caught her feet, spinning to grab his wrist that held Vicky’s arm, her words frantic. “No—stop, you can’t take her. Take me.”
He stilled, looking down at her, his pale skin glowing eerily in the light of the fire as a haunting chuckle rang from his throat. “I was hoping you would say that, little birdy. I’ll take both of you.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “It was you—you are the one that Falsted wanted to introduce me to. You are the one that the duke wanted to find. He found out who you are, didn’t he? He’s going to see you hanged.”
“So he did. The idiot Falsted told him. And now the intrigue is over. My only thought now is to remove myself from this land before that becomes a reality.” He waved his pistol in Sloane’s face. “And you two will ensure that happens.”
“No.” Sloane screamed the word, trying to wedge herself between him and Vicky. “You take me—not her. You take her with you and I will fight you every step of the way. Leave the girl and I’ll happily go with you.” She wedged both of her hands on the arm he held Vicky with and yanked at it. “Falsted told you of my plan—I ken he did. That I am waiting for the right moment to ruin the duke. Nothing has changed. I still want the man to suffer. You can escape this without taking the girl.”
