Chapter Thirteen
The carriage halted with a jolt, and the man dragged her out, hauling her up two flights of stairs to a small, dirty room. Years of smoke had built up on the walls, and the floor hadn’t been swept in ages. The single room held only two chairs, one of which she was pushed into.
“Stay there.”
Before she could move, he produced a length of rope and tied her to the chair. He sat in the remaining chair and stared at her, his face revealing no emotions. She could easily believe he felt no emotions, ever, he seemed so cold and hard.
How long would it take before Adam realized she was gone? And how would he ever find her? She knew he had experience in such matters, but unless he was a gypsy, he needed some clues to know where to begin.
She should have kicked off a shoe in the alley, or bitted the hand that covered her mouth. There must have been something she could have done. But no, she hadn’t thought of anything in time, so here she sat awaiting her fate.
The first man opened the door. “Come downstairs,” he ordered, and the other man followed him.
She was alone, this was her chance.
Herr chance to do what? She had no clue. In novels, the heroine remained captive until the hero arrived and saved her life. That wasn’t her nature.
Wriggling her wrists, she tested how tight the rope was, but it burned where it rubbed against her gloves. The fabric over her fingers made it difficult to feel her way through the knot to determine which loop was where. The more she struggled, the tighter the know became.
Adam, please hurry.
As her frustration grew, the first tears welled in her eyes. She’d probably been gone less than an hour, and she was no longer able to squelch her panic. Why did they want her? Did they hope to lure Adam there? That was the only answer she could think of that made any sense.
He’d worked so hard to protect her from what he did, and she’d led him into a trap. She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to him.
~~~
Less than five minutes after Mary Jane left their box, Adam heard a cry which was cut short. He was instantly on his feet, bounding down the stairs. He didn’t waste time with guilt, his senses sharpening, listening for any hint of where she was.
He threw open the door to Miss Clarke’s room, making her gasp. “Where’s Miss Watson?”
“I don’t know.” Her brush trembled in her hand.
“Has she been back here?”
Miss Clarke shook her head.
Adam checked Boiselle’s room but it was empty. He ran through the backstage area, checking dark corners and large pieces of scenery. The entire time, he listened for her cries but heard nothing out of the ordinary.
Mr. Billups motioned to Adam from his spot near the stage door.
“Where is she?” Adam asked.
Billups held his finger to his lips and checked that no one paid them any attention. Then he led Adam outside and down the alley toward where Adam had spoken to Mary Jane that first night.
As soon as they were out of sight of the stage door, Adam grabbed the smaller man’s arm. “Where is she? What have you done with her? I know you’re working with Boiselle.”
“I’m working with you. Boiselle believes me to be on his side, but I pass along anything I learn. There’s a building he uses on Cordwainer in Cheapside. Try there first.”
Without thanking Billups, Adam ran to the street to find a hack. He gave the driver directions as he leaped inside the carriage, and he watched the street the entire way.
Now guilt crept in. All the should haves, the why didn’ts, leading up to the biggest question—why hadn’t he told her he loved her?
The carriage slowed, and Adam jumped out, paying the driver. Cordwainer stretched in both directions, and he had no clue where to begin. Setting off at a run, he looked for any sign of Mary Jane. After four blocks, he was no closer to finding her.
The kidnappers would likely have used a back entrance, if there was one, to slip her inside unnoticed. At the next crossroad, he went to the alley and worked his way back to where he’d begun.
This was futile. He needed to find witnesses, someone on the street who share what he knew for the price of a coin. Stopping to catch his breath, Adam searched the alley in both directions for bystanders.
“Tsst!”
His hearing perked up.
“Tsst!”
He could see no one.
A lady’s shoe dropped behind him. Mary Jane’s shoe. He looked up.
She waved from a window on the second floor.
Not wanting to be discovered, Adam held a finger to his lips and approached the nearest door. He heard voices within. Returning to the alley, he again looked up. This building had no cross timbers—the only thing offering any sort of foothold were some shutters hanging precariously beside the windows. They would have to do.
How he’d carry Mary Jane back down was something he’d worry about later.
Bracing one foot on a brick windowsill, Adam began his ascent. The corner of the first shutter held, but the next one cracked, threatening to break off completely. He found another foothold, and finally reached her window.
“Hurry!” She perched just inside as if she was prepared to jump.
Adam hung onto the window frame, his elbow inside, allowing him to clamp his arm down. “It’s too dangerous for you to climb. I need you to hold onto my back.”
“How?”
“Climb over the sill. I’ll hold you as well as I can, but you must do the work yourself. Wrap your legs around me and slide down my side, then hold onto my shoulders.”
She looked hesitant, but when they heard a noise from downstairs, she got busy. Her grip on his shoulders wasn’t secure enough to make him comfortable, but he had no choice but to go.
A few feet above the alley, Adam jumped. Mary Jane’s weight threw him off balance and they tumbled to the cobblestone. He quickly stood, lifted Mary Jane to her feet and led her toward where he’d been dropped off. He hadn’t asked the hackney to wait, so they might have to go quite a distance before they found another. He’d carry her if need be, just so long as she was safe.
~~~
Once they were in a carriage and on their way to a better part of town, Adam released Mary Jane. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d held her in his determination to protect her.
Then he noticed her blackened stocking beside the shoe on her other foot. “You ran all that way without a shoe. You didn’t complain.”
“I didn’t really notice it after the first few steps. I just wanted to go home.”
He lifted her foot, turning her on the bench so he could see better. “You’re bleeding. I’m so sorry, my dearest. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through.” He tugged off his cravat and wrapped it around her foot.
“You can’t apologize for predicaments I put myself in.”
“Do you believe you can stop me?”
She smiled, and the lines of pain on her forehead eased. “About as well as you can stop me.”
He laughed, lowered her foot and pulled her into his arms. “We are quite the pair, aren’t we?”
“We are.”
“Your father is going to make demands when we arrive at your house.”
“I must tell him I can’t marry you.”
“You can’t?” He couldn’t believe what he heard.
“You still haven’t proposed. A lady can’t agree to a question she hasn’t been asked.”
“You are so stubborn, aren’t you? Stubborn, headstrong—no wait, those mean the same thing.”
“Is this the flattery part of your proposal? It’s not very endearing.”
The carriage was too dark to see her face clearly, but he met her gaze regardless. He wasn’t certain when it had happened, or how, for that matter, but she’d become indispensable to his happiness. He loved her more deeply than he’d thought possible. “Ah, love, what am I going to do with you? I know one thing, I’m not going to live without you. You’ve tilted my world and shaken up everything I know to be true, leaving me with only one certainty. I love you, Mary Jane Watson.”
“That’s more like I’d hope for.”
He lifted his brow. “That’s all you have to say?”
“You still haven’t asked.”
“I hadn’t heard what I’d hoped for,” he teased, leaning closer and pressing his lips to hers.
She brought her arms up around his neck and returned his kiss with a sigh. When he drew away, she said, “I love you, Lord Adam. I’ve known from the start we suited each other well, but I couldn’t have married you without love.”
“Married?” he teased. “I haven’t proposed.”
She smacked his shoulder. “Oh, you. What are you waiting for now?”
“Promise me you’ll spend the rest of your life with me. Have children with me. Grow old with me.” He paused, not to tease but to calm his quivering voice. “Marry me, Mary Jane. Please love me forever.”
“I will.” The warmth of happiness washed over him, and once again he kissed her, pouring every ounce of his love into the touch.