Chapter 8

Maddy could hardly believe what had happened. The marquess had boldly kidnapped her on the street, and though it had been after dark, surely someone must have noticed the altercation. Then he had touched her with such familiarity in his carriage. Her face lit with heat, and she pressed her hands to her cheeks, hoping to cool them.

How had she reacted in such a fashion? She had never expected anything like that, nor would she ever have imagined she would be capable of feeling the things she had felt or responding the way she had. When he had touched her, though she rejected it with her mind, her body had firmly embraced his caresses, instinctively responding.

She couldn’t allow that to happen again. She refused to accept the situation. The marquess was a man of power, but he had no right to just take her off the street and try to keep her for as long as he desired. She would escape, and then she would flee.

She had a little money saved, and though she would like to have more before departing London, it had always been her plan to leave the country upon reaching twenty-one. When the war with Napoleon had ended, and the continent had opened again, the goal had suddenly seemed attainable, as long as she saved more pounds or secured her inheritance before leaving.

She would only feel completely safe when she was far away from England and Stefan. She would have to flee with less than she’d planned, and she was uncertain if she could dare return for her inheritance, but she couldn’t evade the marquess if she stayed in London, since he was clearly so intent on possessing her. She was almost amazed he had allowed her to rest and recover tonight rather than just taking her.

She was ashamed to admit he might not have had much protest from her once he started a determined campaign to seduce her. Try as she might, she’d been unable to reject the enticing pleasure of his fingers as he touched her in such an intimate fashion while in his carriage, and she feared a repeat of the same if he had a chance to try to seduce her again.

Resolved to prevent that, she reached into her hair and retrieved two pins. She recalled a contrivance from a play they had done last year, which involved a burglar, and he had ostensibly used his sister’s hairpins to pick a lock. She wasn’t entirely confident it was based on any sort of fact, but what did she have to lose by trying?

She knelt on the floor, wincing at the hard surface under her knees. She should’ve grabbed a pillow from the settee or the bed, because she could be here a while. She was determined to exhaust every option though, and after having already searched the room and finding only two doors—the one she’d entered through, and one that was locked from her side that she suspected led to his bedchamber, which chilled her blood—she was forced to conclude the front door was the only way out.

She tried rolling and moving the pin around in the lock, bringing in the other to assist. Since she had no idea what she was doing, it was a shock when the lock actually unclicked almost an hour after she had begun. For a moment, she was certain she had convinced herself of the sound, and it had not really occurred, but when she lifted her hand to the doorknob and turned, it yielded, and the door opened.

She couldn’t recall much of how she had arrived in the room, since the marquess had been carrying her, and she’d still been in a haze of passion from his attentions, but there was a staircase nearby. She approached it with stealth, planning to walk out the front door if possible. If not, she would find her way out through the servants’ entrance. Either way, she would leave this cursed place and return to Bella, who would help her as best she could so Maddy could flee.

She was three steps down when the staircase creaked underneath her. She winced at the sound, convincing herself no one had heard it though. It was a light sound, and surely the household was asleep. She continued creeping down, having gone another couple of steps before she heard a door opening on the landing above her.

She turned, frantically looking in that direction, and saw Colin exiting the bedchamber beside the one she’d escaped, holding up a candelabra. When he saw her, he cursed, and she broke into a run. She had no concern for dignity, though she was afraid of falling and breaking her neck. She hiked up her dress in one hand and ran down as fast as she could with the other, clinging to the banister to aid her as she went.

She reached the main floor, instinctively turning right, but she soon realized she had made a fatal calculation, because this was taking her to the servants’ stairs, not an exit. She plunged down the stairs anyway, hopeful there would be an exit in the servants' quarters. There must be, for they would not be permitted to use the front door.

She wouldn’t learn for herself though, because his hand clamped around her hair, arresting her flight as he dragged her back toward him. She winced at the pain, and no one seemed to care about their master’s actions if it might cost them their position. Not even a door creaked open as she called for help.

Tears of rage and frustration filled her eyes, blurring her vision, but it wasn’t sadness that was prompting them. If she had the ability, she would’ve killed him right then, using her bare hands to do so.

“I can hardly imagine what you were thinking,” scolded the marquess as he returned her to the room a few minutes later. He entered behind her this time, clicking the lock into place. “I see you require more fortification, so we shall travel to the family estate.”

“You cannot take me farther from London.” How would she make her way back to get the stash of money she had so carefully saved, and to part with Bella, who would be frantic with worry when she didn’t return?

“There are too many opportunities for escape here, and until I am assured of your compliance, you will do as I say.”

She glared at him. “Assuring my compliance would surely be doing as you say.” She mocked him openly. “I will never give you what you want, Lord Kressley.”

“You will.” He spoke with supreme confidence. “Now lie down and get some rest, for we leave early in the morning.”

She set her mouth in a stubborn line, glaring at him. “I will not.”

“Then I will join you on the bed, and I will part your silken thighs and bury my face between them and lick your cunny until you are screaming my name. If you really want the rest I promised you, you will take it. Otherwise, I will assume you are in a proper physical and emotional state to continue our dalliance.”