Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)

Hunger was beginning to gnaw at her stomach, and a damp chill was creeping up through the slatted floorboards and penetrating the thin fabric of her skirts. Shifting on the hard bench, Caro pulled her cloak a bit tighter around her shoulders and tried to get comfortable.

Thayer appeared to be dozing, but with the weak flame of the carriage lamp giving off only a ghostly flutter of light within the inky shadows, it was impossible to tell. His hand was curled firmly around the uncocked pistol. For a fleeting moment she thought about trying to wrest it away, but quickly realized the idea was foolhardy.

Even if she managed to get it—doubtful at best—the chances of stopping the carriage and then eluding both her captor and his driver on a deserted road were virtually nil.

That sort of swashbuckling scenario might work perfectly in novels, but for this all-too-real ordeal, she would have to devise a more circumspect plan of escape.

As if confirming such thoughts, the carriage hit a deep rut and careened sideways, the wheels bumping over the rocks and tufts of grass bordering the high hedgerows.

Swearing loudly as his shoulder slammed into the paneling, Thayer righted himself and reached up to thump on the trap. A curt exchange with the driver ended with the decision to stop at the next inn for a brief respite.

Hot tea and a crust of bread, thought Caro longingly. Or perhaps he meant to starve her into submission.

“Might I have a bit of sustenance when we stop?” she asked, keeping her tone meek.

He turned, the dim light playing along the smug curl of his mouth. “Since you asked nicely, I will see that you have something to eat and drink.” The nasty smile stretched wider. “You see, if you make yourself agreeable, this can be a perfectly pleasant journey.”

Caro swallowed a sarcastic retort and merely made a small noise in her throat.

It must have sounded suitably submissive, for he laughed softly. “I’m glad to see you are not one of those silly, simpering chits who clings to the notion of true love.”

Love. The word made her heart flutter for a fleeting moment. A man as twisted as Thayer would never understand that love was far more powerful than hate.

“Like me, you are far more pragmatic.”

I am nothing like you, thought Caro.

“Which will, of course, make things easier on you, once we reach Scotland,” he continued.

“Just what do you intend to do with me there?” she asked. Knowing what she was facing would help her map out her own plans.

“That depends. I think Strathcona will gladly trade the incriminating evidence he has on my activities in order to get you back.”

“You misjudge his sentiments,” she murmured. “And even if he did a tendre for me, I believe His Lordship cares more for principles than he does for any personal feelings.”

“I think not. Alec McClellan is a weak-hearted fool when it comes to women. Just look at his history.” His laugh took on a nastier edge. “Indeed, he’s a buffle-brained idiot when it comes to many things. He’s so besotted with the notion of gentlemanly honor that he’ll actually believe I’ll keep my end of the bargain.”

Repressing a twinge of fear, Caro forced herself to remain dispassionate. She needed to keep her wits sharp and learn what he was thinking. “Once you have the evidence, why keep me hostage?” she asked. “My family and I will hardly want to make any accusations of abduction, so you need not fear that your misdeeds will be made public.”

“Precisely!” A flash of teeth—like a prowling predator about to seize his helpless prey. “You see, I have been thinking, and in all modesty, I must say I possess a very clever mind.”

“Y-yes, that’s quite clear,” Caro responded haltingly. He was not the only one capable of devious deceptions, though in truth it took little skill in playacting to sound confused. She couldn’t quite follow where his twisted machinations were going.

“But I don’t understand…” she added softly, hoping to coax him into revealing more.

“Of course you don’t,” said Thayer with savage satisfaction. “It takes a superior intellect to take a mistake and turn it into a stroke of genius.” He smoothed the wrinkles from his sleeves, the predator now turning into a preening peacock, admiring his own iridescent beauty.

“As I said, I have been thinking these last few hours. And it has occurred to me that you are even more useful than I first thought. As a hostage, you will force Strathcona to hand over documents, making it impossible for him to prove certain accusations against me. But as a bride, you will serve as even more solid protection.”

Caro jerked upright.

“Your sister’s husband, the Earl of Wrexham, is a rich and powerful peer,” Thayer went on. “He would never let scandal taint the family, so if I am his brother-in-law, he’ll use all his considerable influence to see I am never accused of any wrongdoing. Should Strathcona ever try to make trouble for me, he will be squashed like a bug.”

The man was mad. Even if Wrexham, who was known for his integrity and sense of honor, possessed such power, he would never use it for unsavory purposes.

However, she swallowed her outrage and instead simply mumbled, “How extraordinary of you to think of that.”

The comment seemed to please him. “Consider yourself fortunate to have had me take you away from the oafish attentions of Strathcona.” He shifted and his leg touched hers. “You’re a pretty enough chit that it won’t be a chore to bed you.”