“Where did you go?”
“I cannot say.”
His jaw twitched. “Cannot or will not?”
Finally, she looked up with wide eyes and between them, a crease marred her smooth skin. Her teacup rattled against the saucer. Was she afraid to tell him the truth or did the memory scare her? Still, she did not answer.
“Did you leave of your own accord, Bella?”
“No. I would never do that to my mother.”
“So you were abducted.”
She gave a short nod, but turned her eyes back to the cup of tea. Her knuckles whitened where she gripped the delicate china but the rattling ceased.
Gabriel’s body shook with rage. It took all of his considerable will to keep from going into a tirade. For all her denial since his return, Belinda Clayton was his. The thought of someone touching her or doing her harm, ignited something in him that he had only experienced in the heat of battle. The desire to kill. Someone had to pay. It took him a long time to formulate any words, and then he could only manage one. “Who?”
“I do not know exactly.”
He steadied his ragged breath. “When did this happen?”
She cocked her head and watched him.
He must not have done a very good job of hiding his feelings because she studied his face with great interest. He never could hide anything from Belinda.
“It was a few months after you left for France. I was gone for three days and then I escaped with some help. After a few days in hospital, I came home. The events were very traumatizing to my mother.”
“Why was I not notified?”
“Father sent a note, but you could not be located. Really, there was no point. I was safe. There was little you could have done.” Her tone was very matter-of-fact, but her cheeks had gone pale and the teacup rattled again.
“Will you tell me what happened to you?” He reminded himself that his need for revenge was not as important as caring for Belinda, and tried to push away his anger.
Her eyes flashed with something, anger or determination. “No. It is in the past and I have no desire to relive those memories. I survived and have moved forward. Perhaps if my father would stay home and care for his wife, she too could put it behind her. As it is, she is in constant fear of losing both of us. Though, for the life of me, I cannot understand why she should care what happens to a man who cannot be bothered to leave his precious Scotland and see his family.”
It was well known among the ton that Lord Clayton, the Earl of Shafton, preferred his Scottish holding of Brendaligh over any of his lands in England. He rarely came down from his castle in the highlands and there was much speculation about his doings out in the wilds. Most people thought he kept a mistress, but others thought him a mad recluse. “His lordship came to town when you went missing?”
“Yes. He arrived shortly after I returned home. I was still ill and remained in bed. He stayed for one week before the stress of the city was too much for him. Mother offered to retire to the country for the rest of the year, but he refused, saying that only Brendaligh could give him peace.”
“Why did you and her ladyship not go to Scotland with him?”
“We were not invited. I have never even seen Brendaligh.” She bit the words out with the taste of sour grapes.
“I see.”
She put her cup and saucer down and rose from the chair. “My lord, I do not wish to be rude, but I think I have had enough social interaction for the day. I would ask you to take your leave. I’m tired and my mother needs me.”
He stood up and inclined his head. “I understand.” He hoped his frustration didn’t show on his face. He wanted more information. He needed to know what had happened to her and why she had changed so severely. The visit had been productive, he’d learned quite a lot, but he wanted more. Frustration burned in his gut.
Without another word, she curtsied and left him alone in the parlor.
It was not customary to leave one’s guest to find his own way out, but he ignored the slight and met Faust at the door.
* * * *
It occurred to him to leave her alone for the night. He’d sat at his desk thinking that the two of them had made progress. She’d told him some things about her life, though the information had raised more questions than it answered. In spite of the topic, he was pleased they’d had a dialogue.
He could go to Whites Gentleman’s Club and enjoy an evening of cards and brandy. He’d even donned his evening clothes and called for his carriage. Belinda would stay at home or go to the theatre. She would be safe for the night, and he could enjoy himself without worry.
“Who am I kidding?”
“I beg your pardon, my lord?” The coachman opened the door for his employer.
“Nothing. Take me a block away from the Clayton townhouse.” He stepped up into his carriage.
“A block away, sir?”
“Yes, you heard me correctly. One block away from the house.”
The driver closed the door without another word.
When they arrived at the destination, Gabriel stepped down unassisted and walked the last block to her house. Hoping to find Belinda tucked away in a parlor reading a book or sewing, he was unsurprised to see her slip out the gate at the side garden.
She wore her hair tied back away from her face. She reminded him of the child he had known and grown to love. A long, dark cape covered her dress and she quickly pulled the hood over her head.
Gabriel ducked behind a tall shrub before she passed.
The hood did not mask her face. The intense look on her face was an intriguing difference from the daughterly concern he’d admired earlier.
She is right. I do not know her at all anymore. His gut clenched.
He followed at a discreet distance.
Belinda never turned or gave any indication that she knew he was behind her. They had walked nearly ten blocks when a carriage with a strange emblem on the door stopped, and she climbed in unassisted. She had not even waited for a coachman to pull the steps down for her. She swung up into that vehicle with the ease of a very fit man.
None of it made sense.
Within a block, the streets of London became crowded and her carriage made little progress. It was easy for Gabriel to follow on foot. However, he knew that wouldn’t last if they left the area. He found a hack.
“Where to, gov?” The driver asked.
“Do you see that carriage with the winged lion and the sword on the door?”
The man looked, squinted and then nodded.
“If you can follow it without being noticed, it is worth ten crown to you.”
The driver’s face lit up and he showed his yellowed teeth. “No problem, gov. I’m the finest hack driver in London. I’ll not be spotted.”
“See that you’re not and do not dare lose them.” Gabriel’s heart pounded as he jumped into the carriage. Sweat dotted his face and the tightness in his chest ached painfully. He wanted to know who was in the carriage with her and where she was going. How do I protect her?
The hack driver was as good as his word. He never lost sight of Belinda’s carriage nor did he ever get close enough to be seen in the crowded areas of London. Once they were near the port, the carriage stopped and so did Gabriel’s hack, though nearly two blocks away and around a corner.
“Two people just got out and walked