The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(76)

“Thank you.” He covered her hand. Con caught a look from Merton. He was her cousin and had been nominally put in charge of her well-being. She turned her hand in his and held it, as if giving her approval to share their news. “Charlotte and I have decided to marry next week.”

“How wonderful!” Dotty came around the table and hugged Charlotte. “I’m so happy for you.” She glanced at Con. “And you as well. You will never find a sweeter, kinder person than Charlotte.”

Or a stronger woman. “I know how fortunate I am to have won her.”

Merton shook Con’s hand. “I wish you well.”

The four of them chatted for a few minutes as they finished breakfast. Yet it was clear they were thinking more of what would occur once they arrived at the Dove.

Charlotte rose. “I’ll meet you in the yard.” She glanced around the room. “Collette, allez.”

To his utter surprise, the kitten ran to Charlotte and sat at her feet. “I can honestly say I have never heard of a cat doing that before.”

A few minutes later, Con stood on the balcony watching Charlotte walk her kitten on the lead. Jemmy stood not far from her, standing watch over her basket. Con’s pair, harnessed to his phaeton, was led to the center of the yard, not far from Charlotte.

It was time to go. As he turned from the window, a black coach pulled up next to Charlotte. A man jumped down, grabbed her and threw her into the coach, slamming the door.

Bloody hell! Not again.

“They’ve got Charlotte!” he shouted as he ran out of the parlor.

“Damnation,” Merton swore.

Con reached the yard first, and jumped into his carriage. “Jemmy is on the back of the coach.” Something else that would have to cease. “Hand me Charlotte’s basket.”

“Where is Collette?” Dotty called.

“In the basket,” Merton answered, taking the cat out and handing it to her. “She can stay here with Cyrille.”

“I’ll take her inside.”

“Who is that boy?” an older lady demanded in a shrill tone. “The boy on the back of the coach. I demand to know who he is.”

A woman a little older than his mother was striding toward him, but he had no time to waste. He had to go after Charlotte. “That’s Lord Merton. Ask him.”

The coach had been out of sight for several minutes before Con saw Jemmy waving. With any luck, they would turn off at the Dove. Con just prayed the Crowes wouldn’t be shocked to see Charlotte brought in and ruin their plan.

He passed the Dove, and his hopes that this would be an easy rescue died. Where the devil was she being taken?

A large stagecoach pulled in front of him. Con tried to overtake the vehicle, but the blasted thing stayed close to the middle of the road and did not give way until they had reached Twickenham.

Hell and damnation! The carriage carrying Charlotte had disappeared. How the hell was he going to find her before it was too late?

The sound of hooves behind him beat a tattoo, and he pulled over to the side of the road.

“My lord.” One of Merton’s outriders came up on Con’s side. “His lordship sent us to help you.”

Thank God. “How many men do you have with you?”

“Four, my lord.”

“The coach turned off somewhere between the Dove and here. Search every road and path. She must be found, and soon.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The riders galloped back down the road. Con turned his phaeton. If only he had taken notice of the lanes and other roads, but he’d been so intent on passing the coach he hadn’t paid attention. Fortunately, the outriders would be able to cover more ground than he could on his own.

The saving grace was that it wasn’t that far back to the Dove. He dragged a hand over his face. But how many blasted side roads were there? That is what mattered.

He prayed that Charlotte would be safe until he arrived.





Chapter Twenty-Six


Drat, drat, drat. Charlotte pulled herself up from the floor of the coach and tried the handle on the door. Locked, and there didn’t seem to be a keyhole.

Well, blast it all!

She drew in a long breath and straightened her bonnet before taking stock of her situation. No pistol, no knife, but at least Collette was secure. She would have climbed into the basket. It was her safe place.

Jemmy knew Charlotte had been abducted again, but he was on the back of the coach. That would not bring help. The question was, did anyone else know?

With luck, Burt—she remembered the villain from the last time she was abducted—would stop at the Dove. Then she would be rescued when Constantine and her cousin arrived.

Glancing out the window, she was just in time to see them pass the inn. So much for that idea.

Blast! She really must learn some better oaths. They would be useful in times like this.

Constantine will find me.

The thought came to her, filling her with calm. He loved her, and he would never allow anything to harm her. Yet, how long would it be before he discovered she had been kidnapped and where she was being taken? Yes, he would be looking for her, but she had better try to help herself as well.

Sometime later, the coach dipped, as if the wheels had gone into a hole, it came to a stop, and the door opened.

“Ye won’t get away from me this time, my lady.” Burt grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh, and dragged her roughly out of the coach. “Ain’t no fine nobs to help ye here.”