Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) (33 page)

“Good work. Please pass the message on to Brown and Davis. Rendezvous at the hunting cabin once you have completed your duties. You know what to do.”

Mr. Thomson saluted. “Yes, sir.” He bowed his head at Lane. “My lord.”

Lane inclined his head. “Mr. Thomson.” The man galloped away, and Lane turned to gaze questioningly at Charles. “Who was that man, and how did he know to look for Anna?”

Charles shrugged as he pushed his horse into a canter. “He is an acquaintance who owes me a debt. I sent a missive to him when I returned home to retrieve a fresh frock for Anna.”

Lane followed, disbelieving. “He would ride out in the light of predawn merely at your behest?”

Charles’ gaze was shuttered. “He owes me a very
great
debt.” He clicked to his mount, pushing him faster. “We know the destination we are to reach before nightfall, Lane. Let us not tarry. On to Canterbury.”

* * *

Their journey was long and arduous. Charles was cross with him; that much was evident. The tense silence Lane had endured since they departed, however, was nearly more than he could handle.

His love lay in God knew what sort of peril, at the hands of men who, no doubt, felt bitterness and resentment towards her. Lane hoped that they kept their hands to themselves. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, the likelihood of Anna’s escape was very slim. Those men had already been outwitted and would presumably fortify their efforts at keeping her in their clutches. Lane still embraced the hope, however, that Anna was well and fully safe.

Charles slowed his horse, and Lane followed suit, pulling up to a canter beside him.

“Knowing what we do about these men,” Charles called, “I believe we could safely assume that they are on the outskirts of Canterbury. That they would doubtless take roads not oft travelled to reach their destination.” They pulled their mounts to a halt at a crossroads. Charles looked down a dirt road to their right and then back at Lane. “What are your thoughts?”

Lane blinked; taken aback that Charles would think to ask him his opinion. Charles had taken the lead since they had begun their search; it was unlike him to seek advice. What were his motives? “Do you inquire because you genuinely wish to know my thoughts, or simply to be polite? If it is the latter, you are wasting valuable time.” He had not intended to sound so noncompliant.

Charles turned to him with a scowl. “I resent your presumption that I would waste time with meaningless inquiries. If you have nothing useful to contribute, Lord Devon, I will thank you to kindly shut up.”

“Such inspirational words, Major,” Lane snapped.

“If you wish to continue on your own, please do. I believe I will take this path.” Charles led his horse toward the side path, when Lane stopped him.

“I must give you credit, Charles; you
do
have nerve. Although, I had hoped you would not show it at this moment. We should remain together, no matter how much you wish to be rid of me.”

Charles leapt from his horse and strode angrily toward Lane, who had dismounted as well. Anna’s brother clearly had issues with anger, superiority, and resentment. None of those had a place in their current venture, and Lane would make sure that Charles knew it.

Lane prepared himself as Charles pulled his fist back and punched him in his already bruised jaw. Pain speared across his face, and he staggered back.

Charles entered the ready position for a proper match, but Lane merely shook his head to clear it. He experimentally moved his jaw. “Are you quite finished?”

“Fight me, damn it!” Charles put up his fists and circled Lane.

“I have no wish to fight you, Charles. You may hit me if you wish, but as far as I am concerned, we should be en route to rescue Anna.” He paused. “Why do you wish me to fight you? Now that I think on it, why did you call me out when you could have merely allowed Anna and I to marry?”

“You have no right to question me, sir, when you should be questioning your own behaviour.”

Lane frowned. “What of my behaviour?”

“You took advantage of Anna’s innocence and vulnerability, then got her pregnant with your bastard!” Charles exploded venomously.

“I will have you know that I have loved Annabel since I was sixteen. I may have only discovered my feelings for her recently, but that does not change the fact that they are of long duration, deep, and true.

“You, contrarily, informed
my
sister that you loved her, left for battle, then returned only to spurn her!” A blanket of white rage came down over Charles’ expression. He opened his mouth to undoubtedly utter a hot retort, but Lane cut him off. “Meanwhile, your beloved sister has been kidnapped by men who unquestionably wish to harm her—or worse—and you are wasting precious time by standing here arguing with me. I may not be the brother by marriage that you desire, but that is not a reason to hate me.

“My unborn child was not created in the despicable manner that you imply.” Lane could not help but defend himself on that score. “If we are to continue to search for Anna in an amicable fashion, you must first overcome your resentment toward me and accept that I only wish for what is best for her. I love her, and believe it or not, I do like you.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Although God knows what horrible things happened during war to have you turn into such a damnable bugger.”

Charles stared at Lane in silence, his jaw working as he absorbed Lane’s speech.

“As for your original inquiry, Charles, and in the interest of speeding things along in our search, I rather think that Anna’s abductors would continue on the main roads. They know that we would assume otherwise.”

Charles’ expression was blank for a moment, then he exploded. “By damn, why did I not think of that?” He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. “You are right, of course. I have been thinking only of myself, and not the tortures that Anna must be enduring at this moment. I am willing to call a truce until we recover Anna. Any outstanding issues we may have can be resolved another time.

Chapter 40

Anna shifted her seat on the hard stone floor. Her bottom had lost its feeling several hours ago, but she knew that if she did not shift, she would only be in more pain. She had several smarting bruises on her person; most were from rough handling from her captors, but the others were from kneeling and shifting on the hard ground of the cabin or from falling sideways and needing to right herself.

While her wrists and ankles were abraded and bleeding from her attempts to pull herself free, she was grateful that they had not gagged her again. The fabric had dried out her mouth, and it tasted horribly.

Her stomach had surpassed hunger long ago, and now bordered on starvation. She had been kept satiated on minimal amounts of water, but had not received any food. She had gotten ill several times, and once, she was slightly pleased to recall, on Toby. He had not looked so smug when she had cast up her accounts directly on his chest.

A cool breeze whistled through a crack in the cabin wall, and Anna shivered. The cabin was chilled and dark, and it smelled of must and dirt. The windows had been boarded over, but Anna was certain that it was nightfall. She was weak and dizzy, but she forced herself to focus on finding a means to escape.

She rolled her hip and pulled her tied ankles beneath her, then pressed her back against the wall and, using all her strength, slid herself awkwardly up until she stood. She waited a moment for her dizziness to pass before she hopped about the cabin. She first tried the door and windows, but with her hands tied behind her back and her ankles tied, her mobility was woefully restricted.

Her gaze darted around the space. There was a tall, narrow table, counters in the kitchen space, two empty bookshelves, a tall mirror, a wardrobe cabinet…
Wait just a moment
. The fog in her mind suddenly cleared.
The mirror!

Anna cursed loudly as she bumped her hip against a table, but she managed to find the mirror in the darkness. She knocked it hard with her bruised hip, sending it crashing to the floor. She carefully lowered herself to her knees, earning several cuts through her skirts. She disregarded them and leaned to her side, reaching from behind her back with her hands in search of a large piece of broken glass.

A brief wave of satisfaction went through her as she found a piece, before she sliced her finger and cursed again. Her hands trembled as she began scraping the glass against the rope binding her wrists.

Several minutes passed before she felt the ropes loosen. Jubilation rushed through her as the rope snapped and her wrists were freed. She tossed the shard aside and brought her arms around the front of her, grimacing at the ache in her shoulders.

Anna hastily wiped her blood-soaked hands on her skirts before she reached for the binding at her ankles.

* * *

The cabin appeared empty from a distance, but Lane was certain that Anna was within. He worried for her health and safety, and that of their baby.

They had briefly surveyed the home in which the four kidnappers were allegedly housed, but aside from the chimney blowing smoke, they had seen no sign of them. Lane had his reservations as to their whereabouts.

They’d settled their horses in a glade a mile back and walked the remaining distance to the cabin, so as not to alert the villains to their arrival.

Charles nudged Lane in the rib. “It is not wise for them to leave Anna alone in the cabin. They must know that we could easily come to retrieve her. Something is not right.” His harsh whisper broke the silence around them.

Lane opened his mouth to reply, his jaw still smarting, but another voice cut in. “You are correct, Major Bradley. Or should I call you
Hydra
,” Frenchie’s accented voice sneered.

Charles scoffed. “I am aware that you know my identity, fool. The Boss has sent me numerous letters informing me as much.”

Lane squinted at Charles in confusion.
Identity?
What in blazes was Charles on about?

“Tell me what you have done with Anna, and I will tell the courts to be lenient with you.”

Frenchie’s laugh veritably dripped with condescension. “I am not so much a fool as you Englishmen. A Frenchman would never fall for nonsense such as zat.” He sighed with apparent impatience. “Now, come out of ze bushes before I lose my patience and shoot you both through your filthy English ’arts.”

Charles nodded at Lane, and they stepped into the clearing around the cabin. Frenchie stood with a pistol aimed at both of them, one in each hand.

“You have us at a disadvantage,” Charles drawled. “What is it that you would like from us?”

“Zere is only one of you zat I require. I used your troublesome sister to get you ’ere. Now zat I no longer need her…” He let out a sharp whistle, and Toby strode out from behind the cabin with a torch held aloft.

“
No!
” Lane pulled the pistol from the back of his breeches, took aim, and shot Toby through the chest. The large man, and the torch, fell heavily to the dirt-covered ground.

“
Imbecile!
” Frenchie’s screech was high and long, but was drowned out as another shot rang through the clearing.

The echo resounded in his ears but didn’t detract from the searing heat spreading through his left shoulder. A string of foul curses fell from his lips as he looked down at his shoulder. Dark, shining liquid soaked his black coat, and he cursed again.
I’ve been shot!

He was hardly cognizant of the fact that Charles had leapt on Frenchie and the both of them had fallen to the ground and now fought for the upper hand.

Lane shook his head to clear his thoughts as he pulled his second pistol from his coat pocket and hurried toward the cabin. Even if he perished, he would damned well save Anna before he did.

He made it halfway through the clearing when a branch swung before his eyes, narrowly missing him. He stopped as Billy and the red-haired villain flanked him.
Hell and blazes
.

* * *

Rustling and mumbling echoed outside the cabin, and Anna’s stomach jumped. Could someone have come to her aid? Or was it her captors come to torment her? She willed the beating of her heart to slow so she could hear past its rushing in her ears.

Finally, she heard Charles’ voice and her heart felt buoyant. He had come to rescue her!

She worked faster with the ropes, anxious to be free. Her fingers fumbled with the thick rope as the tips of her nails were shredded. She pushed past the pain. The sooner she freed herself, the sooner she could be at home, in Lane’s arms after a long hot bath and a small feast.

She heard a shout that she knew distinctly to be Lane’s. Despite herself, her heart flipped over in her chest.
He’d come!

Shots rang out in the clearing, and Anna went cold.

Oh no, oh no, oh no!
Please let Lane and Charles be unharmed!

Finally, her fumbling fingers pulled the knot free and she slid her ankles out.

More shouts echoed outside the cabin and Anna rose shakily to her feet. There must be some way that she could be of help!

She stumbled on her first step, but made her way to the large window at the back of the cabin.

How am I to get the boards off?

* * *

Lane’s left arm proved useless. He fought the red haired man while Billy took to a run.

The red-haired man took advantage of Lane’s injury and struck from the left. Lane accurately placed each return punch to the man’s face. His opponent was wiry and wily, and Lane’s only chance was the dagger in his boot.

Charles mumbled curses under his breath as he fought Frenchie several yards behind him.

A burst of light caught his attention, and his startled gaze flew toward the cabin. That damned Billy had retrieved the flaming torch and lit the cabin on fire.

Lane scarcely recognized the hoarse, agonized scream that emanated from him and echoed through the clearing. “No! Anna!”

The red-haired man hit his injured shoulder, knocking Lane to the ground.
The man leapt on top of him and laughed in Lane’s face, blowing his vile breath at him.