Taffeta & Hotspur

He wouldn’t be bested in this way. He had to work on his alternate plan, a plan he had in place because he had been afraid from the s

tart he would have to elope with her because of her family. He had always known her young duke of a brother would never agree to his suit.

He smiled wickedly to himself as he stood and watched the couple in question go around the dance floor as though they were in heaven. Heaven? They would both soon know hell … for he meant to take them there. Tarrant for daring to blatantly best him, and the little beauty for daring to lead him on.

One way or another, Taffeta and her wealth were going to be his. He would have to execute his plan a bit sooner than he had thought, and he would have to be careful. It would all depend on the fluidity of his movements over the next few days. It would have to appear to Tarrant and Lady Taffeta he was quietly withdrawing his interest in her. And now, he would begin to show her and the world at large he had transferred his interest to… He looked around and moved to take Melody Conners onto the dance floor. Yes, Melody would do very well…

Chapter Twelve

Three nights later

“Oh, but that was dull work,” exclaimed Taffeta as she led Catherine to the front steps of Lady Higgens’ townhouse. She looked around for her brother and Nigel who were still in conversation with a friend some distance at their back.

Their coach had pulled up to the curbing, and the Higgens’ footman held out his gloved white hand to help the ladies up the steps and into their carriage. Taffy looked to her brother and waved for him to hurry as she followed Catherine into the coach, and they spread their skirts around them.

“Well, at least it was an early evening. I must admit to being a bit tired from all our gadding about.”

“Yes, but I would have rather spent the evening at home than listening to those dandies try and ape poetry. Ugh, ‘tis no wonder Aunt Sissy stayed home. We should have as well.” Taffy sighed.

“Hmmm, especially when there was no chance of having your dear Tarrant in attendance on you.”

Taffeta sighed more heavily, “Yes, I admit nothing seems as much fun when he isn’t about.” Taffy eyed her knowingly. “You were bored as well, and I noticed Fenmore wasn’t present either,” she said meaningfully.

“I knew he wouldn’t be. He is off with your Tarrant,” answered Catherine with a soft smile.

“Is he? I didn’t know,” said Taffeta with a frown. “I wonder what they can be up to? Something deliciously exciting I am sure, and what must we endure but…” She turned to look for her brother and uncle and noticed a young and dirty urchin of a boy had gained their attention. “How odd… I wonder what is toward?”

Even while she was still looking their way out the curbside window, the coach suddenly lurched forward. Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze for the fraction of a moment as her reasoning took the situation and put it into cohesive order. This was wrong … all too wrong.

Taffy took immediate action and knocked on the inside box to the driver’s back wall. “Thomas, what are you doing? Stop this instant and wait for my brother and uncle.”

No answer. She went forward and pulled open the box to the driver’s seat and saw some of the man’s back. He was not dressed in his usual uniform but wore a dirty set of clothes, and his long straggly hair, under a peaked cap, told her at once—this was not their coachman. Not Thomas. What had happened to the man? Oh, she immediately hoped he had not been badly hurt. She knew they were in trouble. This was her vision already live.

She sat back and said to Catherine, “Right then—here we are alone with a villain at the horse’s head. Cathy, when the carriage slows, as it will in the traffic up ahead, will you take my hand and jump out?”

“Yes, of course, but … what is this…?”

“There is no time to explain, but we have to get away before the driver turns down an alley or quiet street, where no doubt another coach is waiting…”

“Will he stop in traffic? Can we get out then and run?” Cathy asked, looking determined.

“He won’t stop the coach unless he must, I am certain, and we have the advantage because he doesn’t know we know what is afoot. He is already slowing … just a bit more, so we don’t lose our balance when we jump out.” She squeezed her friend’s hand, “You can do this, Cath. I know you can. Remember a few years back when those Eton boys took us for a wagon ride and things got a bit out of hand? Remember?”

“Yes, we were glorious, weren’t we? You knocked one boy off the wagon, and the other two were so busy holding up their team while we jumped off and vanished into the woods. Yes, that was glorious, and we laughed all the way back to school—stupid boys.”

“This is different. They were only playing a prank. This time, we are being abducted. We have no choice but to take it seriously and do what we must. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then hold my hand and get ready,” said Taffeta, looking out the window and discovering a maze of traffic ahead. “He is already slowing … but I don’t think he will stop … are you ready?”

“Ready?”

“I shall open the door, and we must hike up our skirts and take to ground.”

“Go ahead, I am with you.”

Taffy hiked up her skirts and jumped. She nearly lost her balance, steadied herself and turned to find Catherine stumbling from her jump and nearly colliding with her.