Her heart surged. “He did?” For all his anger, Adam had still thought of her.
Tony averted his gaze to a point beyond her shoulder. “Nick did,” he said almost apologetically.
“Oh, of course. Thank you,” she finished dumbly, as a wave of heat coursed to her cheeks. Of course her husband hadn’t thought of her after he’d stalked off. She hated the lash of pain at such a truth.
Tony held out his arm. “I know a way to the entrance that won’t take you through the ballroom.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Georgina hurried over and took his arm. She allowed him to steer her on a winding path through the house. They reached the foyer. A servant was waiting to assist her into the almost luminescent aquamarine cloak. Georgina tugged the hood up, relishing even the small protection from any potential witnesses.
She had her foot out the door when Tony called out to her. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.
Georgina held up a wavering hand in farewell. “Thank you for everything.”
He looked like he’d say more, so she fled to the carriage. The middle of Lord and Lady Ashton’s foyer in view of gossiping servants was no place to discuss anything.
A footman opened the door to the spacious carriage and assisted her inside.
The door jerked closed with such speed, she gasped. She pushed her hood off.
Her heart puttered to a halt then resumed beating as if she’d run a country mile. She opened her mouth to scream, but the gloved hand of a stranger covered her mouth, drowning out her plea for help.
The horses sprang forward, carting her off to certain doom.
Chapter 22
Georgina whipped her head from side to side, and managed a glance back at her captor before he had her anchored firmly in place. Her eyes widened. She clawed the large hand clamped over her mouth. Her efforts were ineffectual against Stone’s sheer strength and power. What a fool she’d been. She should have learned long ago to trust no one. No one but herself.
“Please, don’t fight,” a third, familiar voice said.
“We won’t hurt you,” Stone whispered against her ear.
In all her darkest moments, she’d expected her father or Jamie would end her. She’d never expected to face this black devil again who’d surely quash her as though she were nothing more than a gnat on his sleeve. Her teeth chattered. She flailed her arms and legs, and twisted about.
His grip slackened and Georgina bit down hard on his hand. Even through his kid leather gloves, her teeth managed to penetrate flesh. He cursed but still held fast.
She jerked her foot down on his heel, wrestling for freedom. In the thick cloak of the carriage’s darkness, her eyes slowly adjusted and the face of her other captor shifted into sharp focus.
The Duke of Aubrey!
Chills wracked her frame as she tried to imagine the bored, lascivious nobleman’s intentions. Oh God, what did he want with her? Adam had already made it abundantly clear that he wouldn’t care what happened to her. He wouldn’t search for her. She was alone. Once again. As she’d always been.
The thought breathed life into her struggles.
“I already said I liked you, Mrs. Markham. I have no intention of harming you,” the duke drawled, seemingly bored by her show of protest. He looked to the third man, whose face was concealed in the shadows. “I’d imagine we’re far enough away to not attract notice if she screams.” He glanced back at Georgina. “They won’t, you know. Hear you, that is.”
Georgina wrenched her neck, attempting to break free of Archer.
The duke gave a curt nod and Archer dropped his hand.
She sucked in a series of rasping breaths. What sick game were they playing with her?
“I needed to speak with you,” the duke said.
The same sense of helplessness she’d known at her father’s hands returned. There would be no one rushing to her rescue. If she were to get out of this situation, she would have to help herself. Georgina took a deep breath and collected what wits remained to her. She brushed the black curtain.
The duke frowned. “No need to look outside, Mrs. Markham.”
She dropped her hand to her lap.
“A woman of your intelligence must be curious to know what you’re doing here.”
“I had rather wondered about that,” she said. Her husky response seemed to amuse them.
They chuckled and exchanged looks.
Georgina seized the momentary distraction. She reached for the door handle.
The duke yanked her back.
“Don’t do anything foolish, Mrs. Markham. You’d be crushed beneath the wheels of the carriage,” he said, with a small frown.
Did he speak from concern or had those words contained the hint of a threat? No matter. She’d braved her father and Jamie for the course of her life, she’d not allow one such as this to intimidate her. She tipped her chin up. “What do you want?”
“Tell us about your work for Fox.”
Adam’s steely promise to see her pay for her sins surfaced. He’d turned her over to these men. She wanted to curl up in a ball and wallow in the endless depths of her misery, but she was a survivor—she had no intention of allowing them to…to do whatever it was they did with the daughters of traitors. “That isn’t an answer, Your Grace.”
Stone and Archer chuckled. The duke scowled at them and then returned his attention to Georgina. “We’ve spent several years trying to determine exactly where your loyalties lie.”
At his admission, Georgina’s stomach turned. For years, she had been closely watched by these powerful men and had been none the wiser. “You watched me?” she asked, her voice flat.
“Oh, we did more than watch you, Mrs. Markham,” the duke said matter-of-factly. “We corresponded with you. It took us some time to realize that the woman penning the notes was in fact ‘The Fox’s’ daughter. You see, we couldn’t quite piece together how someone who proclaimed their support for the Crown would withhold such a vital fact.”
Staring back at the duke and the aura of power radiating from him, Georgina knew that if this man sought retribution she would stand no chance. She was a survivor. She was not, however, indestructible.
Georgina bit her lip.
He leaned forward across the seat, bringing the harsh angles of his face into sharper focus. “It is now quite clear to all of us. You are loyal, my dear.”
Georgina didn’t care to examine what her fate would be if he believed otherwise. “Who are you?”
He seemed unfazed by the impudence of her question, but ignored it nevertheless. “Do you know about your husband’s role with the Crown?”
Georgina compressed her lips into a tight line, biting back a stinging retort. The Duke of Aubrey was very nearly royalty and she had to be mindful of that, but she’d not betray her husband by talking to him. “If you trust I’m loyal, Your Grace, then surely you must realize I will not disclose intimate details about my husband to you. Or anyone,” she added, glancing pointedly at the other silent figures in the conveyance.