who you think I am. Ask anyone. Stop. Let me out.”
“Gag her,” Nathaniel responded, and a stout, muscular man withdrew a long strip of white cloth from a satchel.
“No! Please! You must believe me. If I don’t make it to London soon, I’ll miss—” The gag reduced Alexandra to squeals, but she refused to fall silent.
Wild with fright and more than a little angry, she continued to grunt and kick, banging about until she slipped from her seat and landed, hard, on the floor.
“Damn hellion.” Instead of moving her back to the seat, Nathaniel held her ankles while the man called Trenton tied them together. Then he leaned back and crossed his feet on top of her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, and all but the huge man followed suit.
Alexandra couldn’t move anymore. The weight of their legs made her sag in exhaustion, and she lay, covered in a sheen of sweat, trying to draw enough air through the thick cloth to recover her breathing. She had indeed escaped Willy—and now she was heading straight for the fiery furnaces of hell.
Nathaniel’s gaze came to rest on her face, but he said nothing to her. Instead, he rapped on the roof. “How much longer?”
A voice issued from the driver’s seat: “Only a few minutes more.”
“Hurry,” Nathaniel responded. “The constabulary will be nipping at our heels at this rate.”
After another four or five miles, the carriage began to slow. Alexandra wondered where they were. She was disoriented, and she couldn’t see anything through the window except a round spot of blue sky. Only the smell of hay and manure and green things growing led her to believe they were in the country somewhere, far from the filthy confines of Manchester.
“Sit her up and take off the gag,” Nathaniel said as he opened the door and jumped to the ground. “I think she might be willing to behave herself now.”
The same man who had gagged her removed the cloth, leaving Alexandra’s lips feeling swollen. She stretched her jaw to make sure it still worked and took a deep breath, grateful to fill her lungs with air again. “Where are we?” she asked.
The large burly fellow, who took up twice his share of room, began to respond. “On our way to Liv— Oop,” he gasped as the short, stocky man sitting next to him elbowed him in the ribs.
“Don’t tell her anything, Tiny.” The stocky man turned narrow eyes on Alexandra before hopping to the ground himself. Then the others, three in all, filed out after him. Tiny was the last to go.
“I know ye ain’t used to bein’ treated so rough and such, miss, I mean, m’lady,” he explained. “An’ Nathaniel ain’t a bad bloke. He wouldn’t ‘ave bothered ye if yer father ‘adn’t gone an’ nabbed—”
“Tiny, get out here.” Nathaniel scowled at them both through the door. “She’s not hurt.”
“No, sir. She ain’t. But she ain’t used to bein’ treated like this, an’ I was only tryin’ to explain that we didn’t want to do this. ‘Twas the only way.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “I’m sure she feels much better now. If you’re finished apologizing, we’re ready.”
“Aye, sir.” Tiny’s small brown eyes, mere slits in his fleshy face, looked back at Alexandra. “Excuse me, m’lady,” he said and heaved his large bulk outside.
Nathaniel waited for Tiny to clear the door before leaning in again. “Come on, Miss High and Mighty, this is where we part with your carriage.” Grabbing Alexandra’s ankles, he slid her across the floor toward him. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist. “I can’t promise you a better seat, but I must insist you join us.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” Alexandra told him as he brought her up against his chest.
He gave her a devilish grin. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be my first.”
He carried her to a less conspicuous conveyance hidden in a copse of trees, a rented vehicle that looked more like an old stagecoach, and dumped
“Gag her,” Nathaniel responded, and a stout, muscular man withdrew a long strip of white cloth from a satchel.
“No! Please! You must believe me. If I don’t make it to London soon, I’ll miss—” The gag reduced Alexandra to squeals, but she refused to fall silent.
Wild with fright and more than a little angry, she continued to grunt and kick, banging about until she slipped from her seat and landed, hard, on the floor.
“Damn hellion.” Instead of moving her back to the seat, Nathaniel held her ankles while the man called Trenton tied them together. Then he leaned back and crossed his feet on top of her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, and all but the huge man followed suit.
Alexandra couldn’t move anymore. The weight of their legs made her sag in exhaustion, and she lay, covered in a sheen of sweat, trying to draw enough air through the thick cloth to recover her breathing. She had indeed escaped Willy—and now she was heading straight for the fiery furnaces of hell.
Nathaniel’s gaze came to rest on her face, but he said nothing to her. Instead, he rapped on the roof. “How much longer?”
A voice issued from the driver’s seat: “Only a few minutes more.”
“Hurry,” Nathaniel responded. “The constabulary will be nipping at our heels at this rate.”
After another four or five miles, the carriage began to slow. Alexandra wondered where they were. She was disoriented, and she couldn’t see anything through the window except a round spot of blue sky. Only the smell of hay and manure and green things growing led her to believe they were in the country somewhere, far from the filthy confines of Manchester.
“Sit her up and take off the gag,” Nathaniel said as he opened the door and jumped to the ground. “I think she might be willing to behave herself now.”
The same man who had gagged her removed the cloth, leaving Alexandra’s lips feeling swollen. She stretched her jaw to make sure it still worked and took a deep breath, grateful to fill her lungs with air again. “Where are we?” she asked.
The large burly fellow, who took up twice his share of room, began to respond. “On our way to Liv— Oop,” he gasped as the short, stocky man sitting next to him elbowed him in the ribs.
“Don’t tell her anything, Tiny.” The stocky man turned narrow eyes on Alexandra before hopping to the ground himself. Then the others, three in all, filed out after him. Tiny was the last to go.
“I know ye ain’t used to bein’ treated so rough and such, miss, I mean, m’lady,” he explained. “An’ Nathaniel ain’t a bad bloke. He wouldn’t ‘ave bothered ye if yer father ‘adn’t gone an’ nabbed—”
“Tiny, get out here.” Nathaniel scowled at them both through the door. “She’s not hurt.”
“No, sir. She ain’t. But she ain’t used to bein’ treated like this, an’ I was only tryin’ to explain that we didn’t want to do this. ‘Twas the only way.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “I’m sure she feels much better now. If you’re finished apologizing, we’re ready.”
“Aye, sir.” Tiny’s small brown eyes, mere slits in his fleshy face, looked back at Alexandra. “Excuse me, m’lady,” he said and heaved his large bulk outside.
Nathaniel waited for Tiny to clear the door before leaning in again. “Come on, Miss High and Mighty, this is where we part with your carriage.” Grabbing Alexandra’s ankles, he slid her across the floor toward him. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist. “I can’t promise you a better seat, but I must insist you join us.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” Alexandra told him as he brought her up against his chest.
He gave her a devilish grin. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be my first.”
He carried her to a less conspicuous conveyance hidden in a copse of trees, a rented vehicle that looked more like an old stagecoach, and dumped
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