The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(95)

I’ll tear him from limb to limb.

He had to get to Tessa before Ransom tricked her into marriage. Or compromised her in some fiendish way. She might not want Harry’s heart, but, by God, she would at least have his protection.

He struggled to free himself, to no avail. Ransom’s footmen had expertly bound the ropes around his ankles, knees, and wrists.

Think, Kent. You have to get to Tessa.

He needed something sharp to slice through the thick cords.

A knife—in the kitchen.

He tried to rise to his feet, but his bound legs made him fall backward. He grunted as the impact jarred his pounding head and bruised ribs. He waited to catch his breath, then, using his feet and tied legs, propelled himself awkwardly toward the closest wall. The journey seemed to last forever.

Finally, he got there. Propping his back to the wall, he managed to push himself to his feet. Breathing heavily, he estimated the distance to his destination: a dozen yards. He would jump there, get to a knife.

He took the first hop. His entire body shouted in protest.

Gritting his teeth, he repeated the motion.

The door flew open, two figures silhouetted in the doorway.

Ambrose and Strathaven. Thank God they hadn’t heeded his instructions to stay away.

“Harry?” Ambrose exclaimed. “Bloody hell, what’s happened?”

Relief poured through Harry as his brother came over, yanked off the gag.

“The Duke of Ranelagh and Somerville has Tessa,” Harry blurted.

His brother-in-law was working on the restraints. The instant the knots loosened, Harry tore free and shook off the ropes.

He headed to the door in a run. “I’ll explain everything on the way back to London!”



* * *



“Do you not find the meal to your liking, my dear?”

Tessa paused in the act of pushing her food around her plate. “It’s fine.”

Ransom dissected his quail with a precision that made her feel a bit queasy. In fact, so did everything in the opulent dining room of his townhouse. They were having a late supper, having driven all day to get back to London. During the ride, her shock and fury at Bennett’s betrayal had slowly faded. Now she felt heartache and despair…and realized that she may have jumped out of the frying pan and into the fires of hell.

Ransom had been pleasant enough, but she didn’t trust him. His elegance, sensual good looks, and sophisticated ennui: all of it seemed like a mask. She had no idea who this man truly was or what he wanted, other than her dowry.

She pushed her plate aside. “I want to go to my mama.”

“We’ll fetch her tomorrow. On the way to our marriage ceremony.” His golden hazel eyes had a predacious gleam. “She can bear witness.”

Why, oh why, had she agreed so rashly to marry him?

“I cannot possibly marry you until my grandpapa is safe,” she said quickly. “I want all of my family present at our wedding.”

“Finding your grandfather will take resources, my dear. Alas, my coffers are empty,” he said ruefully, “which means I will need access to your dowry in order locate him.”

“I’ll sell my jewelry,” she said.

“Quid pro quo, Tessa.”

Ransom’s words were cool but hard. Much like the man himself. Which proved her theory that aristocrats were as ruthless as cutthroats; the only difference was the weaponry they preferred. The duke wasn’t above using her family’s safety to force her into submission.

Which made her wonder: what else was this man capable of?

“How did you find out that Bennett is Harry Kent?” she said suddenly.

“A little bird told me.”

“If you want me to trust you, then I’ll have to know your source,” she said coldly.

Ransom sipped his wine. “Not that it matters, but it was the Earl of Ruthven.”

Tessa recalled the green-eyed aristocrat who’d been kind to her at Ransom’s ball.

“He saw Kent, thought he looked familiar,” the duke continued, “and when he saw you with Kent’s sisters, he recalled the scandal concerning the younger brother. He put two and two together and recognized Harry Kent. Then he saw you and Kent sneak off to the library alone. As a concerned guest, he thought it best to inform the host of what he’d seen.”

“But how did he know that Kent was working for the police?” she persisted.

“Ruthven didn’t discover that fact; I did. After learning that Kent was lying about his identity, I hired an investigator to look into him,” Ransom said matter-of-factly. “It took less than a day; the investigator had a source on the police force who identified Kent as a new constable. He also provided a report on Kent’s family, including their countrified origins. Indeed, he was watching you when you and Kent took off from London. He guessed where you were headed; that is how I knew where to find you.”

Her head spun. “You had someone spy on me?”

“I had to keep up with the competition.” Ransom drained his glass of blood-red wine. “Now finish your supper. You’ll want to be rested for our big day tomorrow.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’ll have something else made up for you.” He nodded at a footman, who came forward to take her plate.

Stubbornly, she held onto it. “I’ll take it up to Swift Nick. He hasn’t eaten all day.”