The Viscount's Rose (The Farthingale Series Book 5) (15 page)

“Honestly, Rolf. I would, but I’m having too much fun watching you.” Nicola remained standing with her hands on her hips and making no effort to do anything but gawk and grin.

Rose wasn’t sorry that she’d helped Julian, for he would have hit his head against the heavy table and then hit the ground hard. It was bad enough that Nicola had drugged him… hopefully, not too badly… but to injure him as well? That was simply too much. “You’ve had your sport, now be useful. He’s heavier than he looks. His tightly packed muscles are to blame, no doubt.” She hadn’t realized he was quite so big and hard… or that her body would respond so wantonly to his.

She would be wild beyond measure if he were actually awake and rakishly smiling at her instead of unconscious and drooling out of the side of his mouth.

Nicola finally took pity on her, and with the aid of Callum and Robert, rolled him off her. She took a deep, gulping breath as she slipped free. A little regret mingled with her sudden freedom, for the sensations aroused by Julian atop her were surprisingly intense and at the same time natural, as though they belonged in each other’s arms.

However, she wasn’t going to admit it to Julian’s siblings. Or servants. Or his aunt and uncle who were eagerly rushing toward them now with the assistance of said servants.

Julian’s aunt gaped in horror at his prone, unmoving body. “Oh, dear! We haven’t killed him, have we?”

The earl patted his wife’s hand gently. “No need to worry, my dear. The boy’s strong. Perhaps we overdid it a little on the sedatives, but he’ll recover. Not too soon, I hope. We still must get him to the hunting lodge. Should we tie him up now or wait until we get there?”

Rose gasped. “Tie him up? What happened to the other ideas? Your gout? Or poachers killing your game? No one ever discussed knocking him out and abducting him. He’ll be trapped. You can’t treat him like an animal.”

Nicola shook her head. “Isn’t that the point? We have to keep him away from London for as long as possible. He’ll manage well enough, I’m certain. You needn’t fret. He’s quite resourceful. I’m sure he’ll break loose of his bonds in a day’s time and make his way back to Darnley Cottage. Hmm, that poses another problem. What if he breaks free too quickly? Uncle, we didn’t think about that.”

“I did,” the earl assured her. “When we get to the lodge, we’ll remove his pants. He can’t very well escape naked.”

Rose shook her head vehemently. “No, it isn’t right. I don’t think I like this plan at all. Please, you must call it off and confess what you did. He might forgive you if you show some remorse and end the scheme now. But you can’t go ahead with… just leaving him tied up and stripped bare… in an old, unused hunting lodge… no food or—”

“Of course, he’ll have food and supplies,” Lady Darnley chimed in. “To leave him completely without resources would be barbaric.” Overlooking that everything they’d just done was barbaric, she turned to the servants. “Help us load him into the carriage. We have a long ride ahead of us and can’t risk his waking before he’s safely bound and deposited in the woods.”

Rose clutched her heart as the footmen almost dropped Julian. “But do be gentle with him,” she cautioned. Fortunately, they were still on the grass and not on the hard, stone terrace floor yet.

Lady Darnley smiled at her, obviously believing she was resigned to the plan and ready to abet this mad undertaking. “Take heart, Rose. It will all work out. I’ll ask Cook to put some of her currant scones in a basket for him. He does enjoy them.”

Rose shook her head in disbelief. “Scones? Then he’ll know for certain that we were his abductors.” Good heavens, had she just said
we
?

The earl nodded. “Of course, he’ll figure it out in time. The boy’s far too clever to be fooled for very long. When he does realize it, we’re hoping he’ll also understand that we acted out of love. Anyway, we’re family. He can’t be rid of us no matter how angry he’s made by our behavior. He was never the sort to hold a grudge, so we expect that he’ll forgive us in time.”

“I’m not family. He’ll never forgive me.” Nor would she blame Julian. Yet knowing that he would never wish to set eyes upon her again truly broke her heart. She cared for him. Something had kindled between them, but was it enough to set him free of the horrid countess? What did it matter? She’d lost his trust by participating in this scheme, even though she hadn’t realized how far his family had intended to go.

Her punishment for this “good” deed would be to lose him forever.

She watched helplessly as they hoisted Julian’s seemingly lifeless form into the waiting carriage. All he had on were his wet pants. No boots. No shirt. Rose’s eyes began to tear.

The earl shook his head and sighed. “Come, my dear. This isn’t pleasant for any of us, but you appear quite distraught. I’ve ordered Wescott to prepare some refreshments for us on the journey, for we all need to calm our nerves after this affair. Would you like to ride along in the carriage?”

She nodded, feeling numb and wishing this were all a bad dream. Riding along with the earl would give her more time to convince him this scheme was folly. She climbed into the carriage and settled beside Nicola while the earl and his wife settled in the seat opposite them. Julian’s big body was half sprawled and half twisted on the floor at their feet.

All of them remained silent in the crowded carriage while Lady Darnley reached into the small basket one of the footmen had deposited on the seat between her and Nicola. She took out a bottle of lemonade and poured some into a glass. “Poor Rose. You seem to be the most unsettled of us all. I know we’re doing a terrible thing to Julian, but he’s driven us to desperation.”

Rose was grateful Emily had been taken back to the house by her governess before Julian succumbed to the effect of the drugged wine. She was too young and sensitive to remain unaffected.

“Kendra and the boys might not be taking it well either,” the earl said with a sad shake of his head as the carriage rolled down the drive and turned eastward. “I’m sorry they were there to see Julian collapse. But it couldn’t be helped. We had no time to come up with a better plan.”

“It isn’t too late to end it now,” Rose implored. She knew the other children had taken this intrigue badly, for they had been unusually quiet, no doubt having second thoughts about it. Even Nicola was nibbling her lower lip in obvious consternation.

“Here, Rose.” Lady Darnley handed her the glass of lemonade. “You go first. You look like you need the fortification more than the rest of us.”

She nodded, for her throat was parched, and drank it down quickly. Too quickly. Ugh, it wasn’t very good and had an unusually bitter taste that stuck to the back of her throat and began to work its way into her stomach. Sour lemons?

“What’s the matter, Rolf?” Nicola took her by the arm. “You suddenly don’t look so well. Have you taken ill?”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel very well. I—I think it’s the lemonade.” Or too much sunshine. Or too much adventure. Her head was beginning to spin. “I must have swallowed some pond water, too.”

“Oh, dear. Honestly, you and my brother are a pair.” Nicola took a sip of her lemonade. “Mine tastes fine. Here, try it. Tell me if it tastes as odd as yours.”

She smelled it first and then drank it down.

In that moment, Rose realized something was terribly wrong. Her limbs suddenly felt like dead weights and her head was now spinning in earnest.

She stared at Julian’s family as their features began to blur before her very eyes. She tried to hold herself up but couldn’t. “Nicola?”

Her friend moved the basket aside and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “I’m so sorry, Rolf. I know it isn’t fair to you, but we’re desperate and have no choice. I’ll make it up to you somehow. I promise.”

“What? No! Not like this,” she attempted to cry out, but her lips and tongue were now as numb as the rest of her body. Her words must have sounded slurred and unintelligible.

“It has to be this way. You and Julian, both. Rolf, please forgive us.”

Both? Julian’s family had purposely drugged not only him, but her! “Why?”

She received no answer before she fell into oblivion.

JULIAN AWOKE WITH
a splitting headache, the hammer-striking-anvil sort that felt like one’s brain was about to explode. He tried to raise his hand to his brow to massage it, but couldn’t move it. “What the…?”

He managed to open his eyes to a squint and looked down. His wrists were bound with a cheap, frayed rope and he was tied to a bed—not his bed, but a thin cot fashioned out of rickety wood that would fall apart if he rocked back and forth hard enough, which he immediately started to do.

What the hell is going on?

After a few savage tugs, he freed himself from his bonds. However, sitting upright on the narrow cot proved much harder. It took a long moment and several deep breaths before he managed to roll forward and stand up. As he did so, he felt the chill of the cold stone floor against his bare feet. There was a musky dampness to the room and a sickly sweet aroma lingering in the air that he recognized as the scent of a brewing thunderstorm.

He didn’t care if the most violent storm of the century was about to unleash; he was getting out of here now.

He moved his limbs to stretch the ache out of them while he took another moment to survey his surroundings. Where was he? In some sort of crude hunting lodge, and although it didn’t look familiar, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that he was still on Darnley grounds or somewhere close.

His steps were unsteady as he made his way toward the door and he had to pause another moment to gather his wits, no easy task to accomplish while his head was pounding with the force of a blasting cannon. His legs were still painfully stiff as well. They’d take a while to loosen up after having been bound for hours. Or was it days already? The last he remembered, he was drinking that odd-tasting wine by the pond. He’d gone swimming and then come out of the water to help set out the picnic fare. He’d taken off his soaked shirt and spread it out with the rest of the clothes his siblings had left in the sun to dry.

His pants had been soaked as well, but he hadn’t taken them off. Indeed, not! He glanced down. Good, he still had them on, but he wore nothing else. The pants were a little damp, which meant he’d only been unconscious for a few hours at most.

Where are my boots?

He’d taken them off before swimming with his siblings.

He took another long breath, forcing his muddled brain to think. Were his brothers and sisters safe? And what about Rose? Were any of them hurt? Or held captive along with him?

He needed a pistol. He hadn’t left his in his boot, had he? No, he hadn’t thought he’d require one at the pond.

The possibility that his loved ones were in danger got him moving again. Using care to be quiet, he attempted to open the door. To his surprise, it was unlocked and opened easily, but it hadn’t been oiled in ages and made a loud squeaking noise. “So much for taking anyone by surprise,” he muttered, disgusted with himself and the uncooperative door.

But no one responded to the sound. He shook his head, now thoroughly bemused.

Where are the guards?

Am I alone?

He made his way down the narrow hallway toward what appeared to be the kitchen, moving with stealth and stopping to search each room along the way. If his siblings were taken hostage, he might find them tied up in one of these small chambers.

The entire place was small, no more than four tiny rooms in all, none of them locked, and it didn’t take him very long to search each one.

Not a sibling to be found.

A good sign? Or did it spell disaster?

He had only the kitchen left to search. The short hairs on the back of his neck immediately began to prickle as he approached. Someone was in there.

Friend or foe?

He hoped it was foe. He needed to pound his fists into some blackguard’s face, if only to relieve his own frustration. Who had abducted him and why?

He crept in, keeping to the shadows, which was easy to do because the room was dark and had several nooks and angled walls. He frowned, seeing no one at first, then heard a soft sob emanating from one of the kitchen nooks. He made his way toward the sound.
Rose!
Sparing a mere moment to assess the danger—or lack thereof—he hurried to her side.

Indeed, he wasn’t alone.

No, not alone. But this was worse. Rose had been taken, too. And still no guards close by.

What in blazes is going on?

She was tied to a chair, a handkerchief covering her mouth. Her head was craned awkwardly to one side and her eyes were closed. He noted the glint of tears trailing down her cheeks.

“It’s me, sweetheart. Julian.” He knelt beside her and touched her lightly on the shoulder to gain her attention.

Her eyes widened in fear the moment his fingers touched her skin.

She squirmed and tried to scream, but her throat was obviously dry and the hoarse yelp that sprang from her lips was mostly muffled by the cloth over her mouth. “It’s me,” he repeated, hoping to calm her before her soft cries alerted the fiends, wherever they were. “Rose, I won’t hurt you. I’m going to remove the gag at your mouth first, but you mustn’t make another sound.”

She recognized his voice and nodded.

He kept talking softly because she was still quite unsettled, not that he blamed her in the least. As he untied the handkerchief from her mouth, she began to tug at her ropes in a desperate struggle to break free. “Hush, sweetheart. You’ll only hurt yourself. I’ll get you out. Trust me.”

“I do,” she said the moment she could talk, although her voice was little more than a strained croak.

But at least she was able to talk and he hoped that she knew more than he did about their circumstances. “Did you see what happened to my brothers and sisters? Are they here? I couldn’t find them.”

“They’re safe at Darnley Cottage. I promise.” She appeared ready to burst into tears, not that he would blame her, for even he was also on edge and utterly confused.