A Duke for Lady Ellen

Chapter 23

Ellen shrugged on her spencer and grabbed a shawl just in case it was cold outside. Then she sneaked out of her room in her stocking feet, carrying her shoes with her so they wouldn't squeak on the marble stairs. A few sconces in the halls were lit, but it was dark enough that she slipped undetected down to the first floor, and painstakingly slowly, because it often creaked in damp weather, she opened the front door. She shoved her shoes on her feet and hurried down the paths to the west gardens.

In the gloom, the topiaries looked haunting and sinister, strange monsters lurking in the night. She felt her heart pound, but told herself she was just being silly. She would be perfectly safe once she found Ethan. The damp grass sucked at her shoes and hem, but she wandered down the long avenue of topiaries until she got to Monkey.

"Ethan!" she stage-whispered. "Ethan are you here?"

She felt one arm grab her, and another clamp a rag over her mouth. She struggled as a sickly-sweet odor of lavender, musk, and something decomposing filled her nostrils. She swayed and was out cold before she hit the ground.

*****

When she woke, her head was throbbing and she found her hands tied behind her back, her feet and legs tied together, and a gag stuck in her mouth. The coach seat was jostling and bouncing wildly and her backside ached. Actually, everything ached. It was too dark to see who had grabbed her, and anyway, a good bit of his face and hair was hidden behind a scarf. Ellen moaned.

"Sleeping beauty awakens," said a voice. She knew that voice, although everything in her head was muzzy and confused as if she'd drunk half a bottle of laudanum. That combined with the sedative on the rag from earlier made it hard for her to think clearly although she was trying. One thing for sure: she had to get out of this coach and away from her captor. Maybe the next time the coach changed horses, she could escape. And then she faded back out of consciousness.

Ellen wasn't certain how long she had been asleep, but her arms and legs were full of pins and needles and she desperately needed to use the necessary. Daylight was about to break and it looked like they were driving up to the entrance of a coaching in from what she could see.

"Good morning, Cousin," said Cousin James, slithering out of his corner of the coach and undoing his scarf. In that moment, she never loathed anyone as much as she loathed him. "Disappointed you're not reading poetry with the ancient Earl?"

She tried to speak, but the gag made it impossible.

"Now, now. I'll remove the gag if you promise to keep a civil tongue in your mouth."

She settled down as he pulled out the rag from behind her teeth, her jaw aching, and all the vitriol that wanted to spill out she held in check. She would need to get on his good side to lull him into making a mistake. For now, she would listen and learn and figure out how to save herself.

"What are you up to, Cousin James?" she asked, keeping her voice neutral, and willing herself not to look daggers at him.

Just then the coach stopped. They had pulled into the Blue Griffin according to the sign by the driveway. It was an old, stone building with bright green shutters and a blue door. Several coaches were waiting outside, and Ellen wondered if there was any way she could stow away in one of them. Probably not.

"We're stopping for fresh horses and provisions and then we are continuing on our jaunt to the Scottish border."

The Scottish border could only mean Gretna Green. Ellen was definitely in danger. She was not about to elope with her duplicitous cousin. The thought of being married to him almost made her ill-and him putting his hands anywhere on her person did not bear thinking about at all. She took a deep breath to quell her rising panic.