Caught in Scandal's Storm

Yet she did wonder if these men had captured her for their pleasure? A cold, agonising dread congealed within her, but she finally and firmly settled the matter in her mind that if this was indeed so, then she would at least give them a fight worthy of her strength. She had been well tutored by Philippe, and though she had the body of a feeble woman, she had the temperament and determination of a brawler.

‘Bit still, don’t you think?’ a man’s voice said.

‘I think she’s fainted,’ his companion answered.

‘Better for us if she has.’

The journey dragged on and the longer she was confined, the more her discomfort increased. She grimaced as the carriage lurched around a bend. The bumps and jolts were making themselves painfully felt along every inch of her body. With her back and hips pressed to the floor, with no padding to cushion her, she began to suffer aches and pains in areas of her body she didn’t know existed and, as illogical as the idea seemed, she began to wonder if she would emerge from her torture alive. Unable to guess how long the journey would take, gradually she grew more weary and numb and her mind, seeking relief from her distress, began to wander. In the stuffy confines her eyes closed and she drifted into some semblance of sleep.

* * *

The coach had passed through heavy iron gates and along a tree-lined avenue leading up to a house. The gravel sweep and smooth lawns were hidden beneath deep drifts of snow.

Suddenly the carriage came to a halt, bringing Alice immediately alert. A cold, agonising dread congealed within her and left her heart thudding heavily in her breast. One of the men spoke in muted tones and there was the sound of the door opening. Then she was being hauled out of the coach. The cloth became loose about her head and a gap appeared close to her mouth. Swaying and breathing in the cold night air, she felt life begin to flow back into her body. A helpless, plaintive cry escaped her lips before a hand was clamped over her mouth and she was lifted off her feet. Against her struggles to escape, she was carried up some steps.

Her tormentor cursed suddenly and snatched his hand away from the sharp teeth that tested the flesh of his palm. He set the slender form on her feet and then jerked back abruptly as her small foot came free of the cloth and kicked out with vicious intent, hitting her target and eliciting a satisfying yelp. She was pushed on to a sofa where she sprawled in a heap.

Struggling to toss back the restricting cloth and glancing up, she saw two men bending over her, looking stupidly down at her, one of them rubbing his sore hand. Focusing her eyes, to her surprise she saw these men didn’t appear to be unduly awful and dangerous. The man she would come to know as Hicks was quite tall and of strong build with light brown hair and kindly brown eyes. The other man, Taff, was short and stout with unruly dark hair and twinkling pale blue eyes. Neither looked capable of doing the evil deed they had been charged with.

But this was ridiculous. How could she feel this softening towards them after suffering their rough treatment? Anger was now beginning to overcome her fear, reviving her instinct for self-preservation.

‘You—you idiots!’ she cried, still struggling with the cloth. ‘Halfwits! Why have you done this? Why have you brought me here? Who ordered you to abduct me?’

A masterful voice rang out. ‘What the hell have we here? Remove the cover and hurry up about it.’

The two men jumped in sudden alarm when they turned and saw a tall, cloaked figure sweep into the hall as if blown in by the blizzard raging outside. White flurries whirled about him in a frenzy. Slamming the door shut on the howling curtain of snow that was threatening to invade the hall, he strode towards them, removing his heavy cloak and tossing it over a chair.

The fretting Hicks was the first to relent. ‘’Tis the young mistress, m’lord,’ he said, sounding as if he had a blockage in his throat. Then he cleared it and said, ‘We’ve brought her as you instructed.’

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