Nicholas was already turning for the door. “We go together.”
“You go to the constables,” Stephen said, stopping him with a hand to the arm. “Tell them a woman was taken by force. A black carriage. Send men to Holborn, and then bring them on to Rondell's place.”
“I’m not sending you alone,” Nicholas said.
Stephen’s expression shifted.
“You are sending me as far ahead as I can ride. Every minute we stand arguing is another minute wasted. We do not know what conditions Maria is being kept under.”
“I’ll follow with the constables,” Nicholas nodded in agreement.
The two men made their way out of the estate mansion. Stephen felt a strange, piercing feeling in his heart as he walked out.
“Nicholas.”
“Yes.”
“If anything happens to me…”
Nicholas’s head snapped up. “Do not say that.”
“If anything happens to me,” Stephen repeated, his voice perfectly calm, “you will not let her believe I fell short of her.”
It was in that moment that Stephen realized that he was willing to die for her, even.
“You will tell her yourself,” Nicholas said.
CHAPTER 26
When Maria woke, the world was a single painful throb behind her left eye.
That was the only thing that was immediate. She did not know much else.
Her wrist jerked when she tried to lift her hand, where a thick rope was biting into it. And then all at once, the memories began to return.
A hand on her arm, cloth over her mouth. Her name being called out. And then the face that she saw.
She dragged air into her chest and rolled to her side.
“Mr. Rondell,” she said, and heard how dry her voice was. Parched, even.
“Duchess,” he said, as if the title were a private joke. “Welcome to my home.”
“Why have you brought me here?” she should have screamed the words, but she could not muster up the energy to.
“You want me to tell you everything?” he grinned, as if this were some fantastic joke. “No, it’s nice seeing you again’? It was rather rude of you, really, how you decided to do so abruptly.”
She swallowed. “Untie me.”
There was little use in engaging in whatever strange games he was attempting to play with her.
“Not yet.”
“Then at least water,” the words came out like a sob.
He considered her, then reached for a chipped mug on a crate and held it to her lips. She drank it straight, almost gagging at the rust-like taste. Of course, he had not opted to feed her fresh water.
He withdrew the mug and set it aside. “Better?”