“Leave the girl be.” The countess uttered the words like a monarch’s command. “There’s no cause to manhandle the child.”
Apprehension loosened its crushing grip on Johanna’s heart. Could it be she had an ally in the cold-eyed beauty? Johanna dismissed the thought. Laurel was a pawn to the woman. Nothing more.
She drew Laurel close. “Everything will be all right, sweetling. I promise.”
Laurel sniffled. “I want to go home.”
“Soon,” Johanna whispered. “Very soon.”
The countess heaved an exaggerated sigh and summoned Johanna to come closer. “I won’t bite.” Her voice was soft. Sugary. “I have a few questions.”
Laurel tugged Johanna’s hand. “Don’t.”
“I won’t leave you,” Johanna reassured her. “But I must not be impolite to our hosts.”
Laurel gave another sniff. With the child clutching her fingers tight, Johanna approached the countess. She held her head high, her spine straight, even as something deep within her recoiled. Intuition, perhaps, or simply primitive instinct—Johanna couldn’t dismiss the bone-deep certainty that somehow, this elegant woman who spoke in honeyed tones was more lethal than any of the ruffians in Cranston’s employ. More lethal than Cranston himself.
“That’s better.” The countess’s razor-sharp gaze drilled into Johanna even as her lips curved at the corners. She threw Ross and Munro a glare. “These hooligans have no need to hear every word we speak, now do they, Miss Templeton?”
“I suppose there’s no purpose to it.” Steeling her insides as if bracing for a blow, Johanna held eye contact, no small feat given the way her pulse roared in her ears.
“If I had my druthers, these fools would be replaced.” The countess peered over her steepled fingers, her voice quiet and calm, as if she shared a secret with an acquaintance. “Their loyalty is admirable, but between the two of them, I doubt you’d muster the mental acuity of the typical farm beast.”
“Do you intend to blather on, Ella?” Cranston crooked a brow. “Or do you think to compel our guest’s cooperation with the threat of intolerable boredom?”
The countess gave a sniff. “If it wasn’t for these buffoons, we would not be in this situation.” She fixed Johanna with a look that was all the more threatening for its veil of civility. “We have much to discuss. Shall I call one of my maids to attend the child?”
“I’ve no intention of letting her out of my sight. Not after what she’s endured.”
The countess cocked her head, a small but meaningful gesture. “Is that so?”
Johanna’s heart thudded, but she jutted out her chin. Blast it all, she was not a caged bird staring into the eyes of a hungry cat. She would not let this slip of woman intimidate her, no matter how piercing her tone.
“At this point, I do not see that we’ve anything left to discuss beyond arrangements for transportation to Inverness.” Johanna gave Laurel’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “As you may know, these men disabled my hired driver and commandeered the carriage. If you’d see fit to providing a driver to the nearest town, I shall procure another coach from there.”
The countess’s mouth tensed to a slash. She shook her head, the gesture so slight, Johanna wasn’t sure it had been intentional. “I’d taken you for a woman of good sense. Driven to claim what’s dear to you. Like myself.” She stared down at her well-groomed nails. “Sadly, you’ve chosen to disappoint me.”
The countess’s words speared her courage, but Johanna steadied her resolve. She tugged Laurel closer to her skirts. “I’ve met the terms as set forth. I’ve delivered the volume. Intact and undamaged. You’ve returned my niece to me. I see no reason for further discourse.”
“I fear I may have misjudged you.” The countess stood, making a show of smoothing her skirts before closing the distance between Johanna and herself. “Mr. Ross, I will need your assistance.”
Strong hands clamped over Johanna’s arms. She fought the henchman’s hold, but he restrained her against his wiry body as Munro snatched up the child.
“No!” Laurel’s cry echoed through the chamber. Munro’s filthy hand formed a crude gag over her mouth.
The countess beckoned him. “Bring the chit to me.”
Anguish slammed into Johanna like a physical blow. She tore against Ross’s vise-like hold.
“Such a defiant child.” The countess peered down at Laurel, her mouth twisting as if she’d encountered something quite foul. “Poor breeding, obviously.”
“Leave her alone,” Johanna cried. “She’s so young. She doesn’t understand.”
Cranston pinned Johanna with his piercing stare. “You are the one who does not understand the way things work. We had an arrangement, but you have attempted to deceive us. And now, you defy our civilized attempts to negotiate. There are consequences to be dealt, Miss Templeton.” He shifted his attention to Laurel. “Sadly, it’s often the young who must suffer.”