Authors: Nichole Matthews
Why?
She didn’t understand why, but she knew now that she had been kidnapped. Knowing this, she refused to go down without a fight, thrashing wildly she began to kick and writhe on the floor of the carriage. Kicking the shins of her captor more than once, causing him to holler out a string of blasphemous curses in his pain.
“
Bitch!” Whitman snarled back, landing a hard kick directly in her stomach.
She cried out at the unexpectedness of the blow. The sound muffled by the rag stuffed deep in her mouth. Piper doubled up in excruciating pain, gasping for breath. Tears streaming from her eyes as the bile rose in her throat, gagging on the dry rag. She could barely draw a breath. Knowing she had to remain calm, she knew she couldn’t allow panic to overtake her. She fought the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her and prayed that she would be rescued.
Graydon
.
He glared at her from the seat above. His gray eyes held hers, watching her with a curious little smile.
…………………………
..
He looked every inch a gentleman, elegantly garbed in black silk knee britches, white waistcoat, black coat, white stockings, and buckled shoes, exactly as the Patronesses wanted. Graydon couldn’t suppress his smile as he made his way through the ballroom. Not stopping for anyone. He had spied Piper making her way to the terrace when he walked into the room and he was wasting no time reaching her.
He had a long conversation with Ashford that very day. He was not at all surprised when he was given the third degree; Peyton had even joined them near the end, stating that he was not going to throw his sister to the wolves. Now if they could find out what all the messages were for, he would feel even better. He still was unable to stop the happy tune that threatened to erupt from his soul as he strolled out into the fragrant garden.
Cool prickles of uneasiness tingled over skin as he made his way farther down the garden path. Danger. Flagrant danger echoed through his soul. Something was wrong. Piper should have been waiting for him. Their arrangement was to meet at half-past eleven on the terrace and she was nowhere in sight.
Finally reaching the edge of the garden, he noticed a disturbance in the gravel and broken branches on the bushes that outlined the rocky path. There had definitely been some sort of struggle.
Eyeing the ground he saw something glinting, dangling from a broken branch. Crouching low he made out the locket that Piper wore faithfully around her neck. A match to Poppy’s, given to them by their father on their sixteenth birthdays right before he passed away. The chain was broken as if savagely ripped from around her throat.
Panic sliced through him, but he forced himself to remain calm as he raced towards the wrought-iron gate that enclosed the garden, no sign of Piper or any carriages remained visible in the darkened alley.
Fear clutched at his soul.
Sweet Jesus!
He imagined the worst. He knew there had been hint of a threat, but now it was all too real.
Heart pounding, he turned away, walking as fast as he could without drawing undo attention to himself. He should have trusted his gut. When he received the first message he should have taken the threats more seriously.
He took the steps two at a time, as soon as he crossed the threshold he quickly scanned the crowded ballroom. Spying Parker, he pushed his way through the crowd, unaware of the outraged gasps coming from the displaced dancers when he plowed through the middle of the floor.
“
Come with me now,” he hissed.
“
Rock?” Parker sounded dumbfounded.
“
Send for Peyton and Seymour to meet us outside.”
Stopping a nearby footman, Parker relayed the message. “Quickly now,” he called to the retreating footman.
As soon as Parker exited the Assembly Rooms, Graydon rasped, “I need your help. It’s Piper. She’s gone.”
“
What do you mean?” Parker’s eyes darted around the dark night.
“
We were supposed to meet in the garden, she wasn’t there.” He ran his hands agitatedly through his hair. “All I found was this,” Graydon’s voice was rough with emotion as he emphasized his discovery by holding up the broken necklace from his shaking finger.
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His vision was blurred with an almost paralyzing fear.
Parker grabbed the locket from his hand at the same time that Peyton and Seymour made their way down the steps to the pavement. “This is her necklace.”
Hawksley followed quickly, a few steps behind. “Is it Whitman?” Declan asked.
“
God, I’ve racked my brain a thousand times and I can’t come up with any reasons why Whitman would be after me.” Graydon did everything he could to hide the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him.
Parker put his hand on Graydon’s shoulder.
As soon as Graydon’s carriage pulled up they all climbed quickly inside. “Home, Laurie! And be quick!”
Graydon was beside himself, ready to kill anyone remotely related to Piper’s kidnapping.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It is very easy to prioritize one’s life when you finally realize what is truly important.
Piper’s journal
10 August
PIPER BLINKED OPEN HER EYES TO DARKNESS. But not the complete, oppressive black like before. A scrap of light flickered in from outside the door. This time when her eyes adjusted she could make out a few items around her. Fear lodged like a rock in her throat. Her head pounded like a heartbeat in her skull and she was frightened. An intense feeling she never imagined she would experience in her lifetime.
She was in a small room lying on the floor. Cool, hard packed earth by the feel on her back. She had no idea how long she had been lying huddled there in this small dark prison. It could have been hours or it could have been days.
Time seemed of little importance to her right now. She could barely think past the throbbing pain in her body and in her soul.
Before she was dragged from the carriage her eyes were bound by another rag. The smell of rotting fish and sewage infiltrated her nostrils as she stumbled after her captor, which made her believe she was someone near the Thames.
She tried to sit up but her head pounded at the intrusive movement. It felt like she’d been knocked in the back of the head, but when her fingers inspected her skull she found no blood or bump.
Huddled in a corner, Piper cringed each time she heard the scratching on the ground. God knows what was running over the dirt floor at her feet. crouched in the corner of the dark, dank room Piper put her head in her hands.
She couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. She had to try and find a way to escape. She must.
Gathering her strength, she got to her feet, albeit a little shakily, and searched for a door. Her head throbbed, the pain raw and acute; she pressed her palms to her eyes until she felt steady enough to open them. The light from the door made it easy for her to see the outline of the door and the doorknob. But no matter how hard she twisted, turned or yanked. The door wouldn’t budge.
It was useless. There was no way out.
She was stuck in the room until someone came for her, or until…alarm spiked in her blood. She made herself take a deep breath and count to ten to calm the terror welling up.
“
Help me!” she cried, her voice strained, her fists bruised from pounding on the hard door. “Somebody, please help me!”
“
I’m tired,” she whispered.
Tears welled in her eyes as she sank again onto the cold, hard floor; leaning against the wall, her knees up. She tried feverishly to think of a way to escape but the room was empty, not even a bed. She was cold and scared. All she could do was sit and prepare for whatever came next, eventually falling into a troubled sleep.
Dreaming of Graydon. Praying for rescue. Did he miss her? Was he looking for her? Did he truly care? She leaned her cheek against her raised knees remembering how she had melted in his arms. Absolute surrender. Remembering how he had tasted, his scent, the feel of his strong arms around her. She had nothing else to do but sit idly and remember.
I like you a lot.
The words like a dream.
Piper began to cough hard as the cold seeped into her chest.
…………………………………
..
The next two days flew by in a haze. He searched everywhere. He asked everyone.
Think,
he ordered himself in frustration
.
His head throbbed from the fear and panic that gripped him.
He had exhausted all avenues. He could not find a single connection to Whitman, so why was he being threatened by him? He muttered a curse, smashing his glass against the stone fireplace.
Oh, God! What am I going to do?
He ran his hands through his hair. He was sick to his stomach.
Sick with worry.
He knew he needed to stop and think things through, but he felt lost. One minute he had an inane smile spread across his face, and the next he felt as if he were going to be sick.
It can’t happen this way
. Graydon gripped Piper’s broken necklace in his tightly fisted hand, the delicate chain biting into his palm. He nearly choked on the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of losing her now that he had finally found her.
He prayed they weren’t too late.
He barely registered the quick knock on the door, before a voice said, “I found the connection.”
Graydon stilled before he swung around at the sound of Declan’s voice.
“
But, I can guarantee you’re not going to like what I’ve found out.” His arms were crossed over his chest and there was a deep frown etched across his face. “I suggest you sit down.”
“
God damn it, Hawk, just spit it out!” A spark of temper flared in his eyes. “We don’t have much time.” A shadow flittered over his face. “I can’t play these games.”
“
If you insist.” Declan raised an eyebrow. “Whitman and Fulton are working together.” Declan gave Graydon a moment to take in the information.
“
How do they know one another?” He sat heavily in the chair behind his desk.
Declan took a seat in front of the desk. “Aubrey Fulton is the second son to a viscount from Shropshire. He is also the true father to Roberta Staverton’s child.” He paused before revealing the rest. “Mr. Frederick Whitman is a by-blow from one of your father’s numerous affairs.”
“
He’s my brother?” Graydon choked, disbelief flashed across his face. “I-I don’t understand? How do Fulton and Whitman know one another?” He leaned forward, his elbows bracketed on the desk, his knuckles white where they gripped one another.
“
That’s the tricky part.” Declan sat back, crossing his ankle over his knee. “As near as I can tell it was by pure coincidence, happenstance at best.” Declan’s fingers steepled in front of his face. “They were both complaining about luck and circumstances when they realized what the common factor was in both of their lives.
You
.”
“
That’s ridiculous.” Graydon knew it had been too good to be true that his father’s numerous infidelities had not produced any children. His father’s luck hadn’t been that good.
“
Ridiculous or not, it’s true.” Declan exchanged a significant look with Graydon. “I’ve sent word to Ash and Perry.” He glanced at his watch. “They should be here at any moment. I believe I know where they are keeping her.”
Graydon stood angrily. “Tell me now! I can’t sit around here waiting for the other’s to arrive. Piper could be hurt…or worse.” His voice broke, all the color draining from his face.
“
I’m not going to let you go off half-cocked, Graydon. No matter how much you beg.”
A flicker of surprise showed on Graydon’s face. Rushing around the desk, he grabbed Declan by his lapels and lifted him from his chair. “Tell me!”
“
I know, Graydon.” Declan’s tone was quiet, full of empathy. “I would feel exactly the same, but let’s do this right. Let’s save her.”
………………………………
..
Sometime later Piper was awakened by the sound of two men arguing outside of her cramped cell. Her wrists and shoulders hurt from being bound and the pain hammered so hard in her temples she could count the pulse beats.
The pieces of the argument that filtered through the thick wooden door led her to the conclusion that she was being held for revenge.
But why?
She vaguely recalled Mr. Whitman mentioning Rockwell. But what could he have done to these men for them to kidnap her? She was not that important to him.
Piper heard the sound of footsteps drawing closer, followed by the sound of jangling keys before the metallic click as it turned in the lock. Standing, she used the wall for support, trying to swallow, but finding it difficult. Thirsty. The lack of water made her mouth feel as if it were stuffed with cotton wool.