Author: Anne Stuart

Montague's color was ashen, and he seemed to have shrunk inside his skin. His eyes were closed

when Adrian walked in, and for a moment he had the sick feeling that Monty had died. But his eyes fluttered open, and there was a ghost of his familiar, faintly malicious smile.

"You need to find her." He spoke so softly Adrian wasn't sure he'd heard him clearly.

"How did you know she ran off...? Idiotic question. You knew I'd slept with her. You knew she was pregnant. Is there anything you don't know?"

"I don't know where she is," Monty said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "No one saw her go. One of my gardeners spotted her several hours ago at the bottom of the walled gardens, talking with a tall man.

Rohan shook his head, the unease that was filling him beginning to spill over. "I haven't seen her outside. She's refused to marry me, and every time I try to talk to her she throws something at me."

"My dear friend, you must have bungled that badly. Which surprises me—you're always so good at handling angry women. Of course, this case is very different."

“Because she's pregnant?"

Montague sighed. "I don't understand how you can be so thickheaded when I've always considered you an eminently intelligent man. Save for the times you've been under your cousin's influence. All of you are complete dunderheads—at this rate I don't dare die. You have no sense at all."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I can manage my life perfectly well," he said with a trace of hauteur.

“Yes, you've just demonstrated what an excellent job you're doing. I've got Evangelina pining over Simon, I've got the vicar mooning after her like an adolescent girl. At least Simon seems aware of it, unlike Lina, who doesn't seem to realize she's fallen in love."

"Lady Whitmore's in love with the parson?" Adrian said, momentarily distracted, remembering their argument. 'That should turn a few heads."

"You're no belter. Charlotte's totally besotted with you, heaven only knows why. To be sure, you're pretty enough, but Miss Spenser is far too intelligent a woman to be swayed by simple beauty."

"It's not my beauty," he said dryly. "She thinks I'm not the lecherous profligale I pretend to be."

“I did mention she was intelligent, did I not? You, on the other hand, are a complete idiot. You're not likely to find another woman who's worth even half of what Charlotte could bring you. And you go stomping around, totally oblivious to your own feelings."

"What feelings?"

"Never mind," Montague said wearily. "Do you happen to know where the so-estimable Etienne de Giverney is right now?"

Adrian's rebellious streak flared. "Don't, I pray you, become like my parents and tell me all the reasons Etienne is a danger to my health. Surely you ore broad-minded when it comes to indulging one’s appetite. Etienne is inventive and entertaining." Which wasn't strictly true. He was tired to death of Etienne and his constant need for distraction. Distractions that led to a profound weariness of the soul. But he was damned if he was going to admit it. "In fact, I told him I didn't want him accompanying me here. He tried to insist, saying he had a fondness for you, but acquit me of being a total idiot. He despises you and you return mat regard."

"I rejoice that you see that much," Montague said.

"In truth, I've felt sorry for the man. He's lost everything, he's trapped in a foreign land, forced to exist on the limited kindness of my father, who's never liked him. If it weren't for me I doubt he'd be received anywhere."

"And yet you didn't bring him?"

Adrian paused for a moment, looking at his friend's tired eyes. "I admit it. I'm sick to death of him," he finally said. "Why do you ask?"

"He's a tall man, is he not? He knows where you and Charlotte are. And he hates you."

Adrian laughed, ignoring the uneasiness building inside him. "Don't be absurd, Monty. I've taken him everywhere, brought him into society. He owes me as much as he owes my father."

"And he hates your father as he hates you. No one likes to be made grateful all the time. Why do you think your lovely girl decided to run off? She didn't appreciate your noble sacrifice."

"I didn't say that," Adrian protested. "I was perfectly logical. And I'll have you know I told her we should marry before I even knew she was increasing."

"You told her the two of you should marry. And you still haven't figured out why you failed so miserably?"

"She could hardly have expected a declaration of love and a promise of lifelong fidelity," he said, irritated.

"It sounds as if she did."

Adrian said nothing for a long while. "Right now I simply want to find out where she is. We can argue about the marriage later. If you know where she went then for God's sake tell me."

"I think Etienne has her."

"In heaven's name why?"

"I can think of any number of reasons. He's not your friend—the Etienne de Giverney I've known since my early days in Paris is not a friend to anyone. He gets rid of anything that stands in the way of what he wants. I think he's decided that having lost his French title and lands he now wants the English titles and estates. And he's going to get them."

"Of course he wants them. He always has. I'm not a complete idiot," Adrian said.

"No, only a partial one. Though I admit, I had no idea how far he'd be likely to go or I would have warned you. You're in his way. So is your possible heir. And if I were you I wouldn't be languishing, waiting for Charlotte to return."

The feeling of dread that he'd been fighting returned full force. "You think Etienne has taken her?"

"'Haven't I said as much?" Montague spoke with a trace of his old asperity. "I haven't much time or energy left, and I really don't wish to waste it solving the mess my friends have made of their lives. I wish to depart mine knowing that things are well on their way to at least a reasonably happy conclusion. I'll be very annoyed if something happens to Charlotte. It will depress me, and if I have to die young, I at least deserve to die happy."

"Nothing's going to happen to Charlotte. I'll find her and force her to marry me."

Montague closed his eyes wearily. "I can't live forever, dear boy. Stop being so stubborn. You're in love with the girl. Admit it and go tell her."

Adrian narrowed his gaze, but he didn't bother arguing. "Where would Etienne have taken her?"

"How should I know? It depends on how mad he is. He may have strangled her and dumped her body in the canal by now, while you've been suiting."

"No." Rohan said, his heart like ice. "No."

"You think he's not capable of doing such a thing?"

"No," he said, the blind fury threatening to overwhelm him. "I believe he's capable. But I would know if she were dead."

"Would you? And you still deny you love her? What kind of bond could you possibly have that would allow for you to know any such thing?"

"I need to find her. We can argue about whether I love her or not once she's safe," Adrian snapped.

"Well, at least that's a step in the right direction. You're allowing for the possibility, when any fool can see you're totally besotted with the girl. Which gives me much greater hope for your future. In the meantime, there are any number of places Etienne might have taken her. He may have driven her back to London—she'd probably go with him willingly enough in her need to escape your ham-handed behavior. Or he could have taken her to the ruins. There's lots of privacy there. Send Dodson to me and I'll have him organize a search party."

"I can't—" Their conversation was interrupted by one of Monty's beautiful footmen.

"Excuse me, my lord, but a gentleman left a message for you."

The fear suddenly went bone deep, and when Adrian held out a hand for the folded scrap of paper he could see it shake slightly.

He recognized Etienne's scrawl immediately: Your bride awaits you at the Chapel of Perpetual Erection. I suggest you come at once, and alone.

He looked up, meeting Monty's gaze. And then he walked out without another word.

24

At first Charlotte was aware of nothing but darkness and the smell of what seemed uncomfortably close to fire and brimstone. Her recollection was hazy— she'd been running from something, hadn't she? And why couldn't she seem to move? There was something over her head, blocking out the light, and she tried to shake it off.

She squirmed, and heard a low, evil chuckle, the same sound she'd heard in the maze at Ranelagh Gardens. Memory came flooding back, along with a full-blooded fury. She tried to speak, only to discover something was tied around her mouth, silencing her. She tried to shake it off, furious, when she heard the laugh again.

"You don't like that, do you, my pet? If you'd had the sense to hit your head on a rock when I shoved you down the cliff you wouldn't be going through this now.

Eiienne, she thought. Elienne had pushed her. She allowed herself a brief moment of relief. She thought she'd long ago dismissed the idea that Adrian had tried to kill her, but there must have been a lingering doubt, now vanquished.

She was good and trussed, like an angry chicken, she thought. Her legs and arms were tied to a chair, and she struggled, wildly, the chair tipping when a heavy hand clubbed her across the face. The hood over her head muffled the blow, and she struggled, desperate for a way out of the darkness. She didn't like being tied up.

"If you're going to behave yourself I'll let you see where you are." He pulled the hood off, and she blinked, looking around her. She appeared to be in some kind of church, and for a moment she wondered if Etienne was in league with Adrian, if he'd brought her to the village church to force a marriage upon her.