Read Online Ducal Encounters 02 - With the Duke's Approval by Wendy Soliman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Wendy Soliman
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cold,” Nate said. “I can’t bear to think of it.”
“No she…damnation, that’s it!” Clarence thumped his thigh with his clenched fist. “I’m a numbskull. I should have made the connection much sooner.”
“What?” asked three Sheridans in unison.
“She was wearing Frankie’s shawl.” Clarence shared a glance between the brothers. “It wasn’t Anna who was the target, but Frankie.”
Chapter Six
Hearing the man casually order his underlings to get rid of her caused Anna’s survival instincts to kick in. Her inertia was replaced by the urgent need for action. She was damned if she would meekly sit here waiting for her own execution. She briefly considered bashing on the door and offering the men a handsome reward if they returned her to Berkeley Square. In the end, she decided against it, since she couldn’t be sure they would agree.
She waited until she heard the newcomer’s boots ringing on the stairs as he clattered down them. She waited a little longer, listening to the other two muttering curses, expecting them to grab her at any moment. If they had been given permission to kill her, there was no saying what they might do to her before that. Shuddering as she recalled the rancid breath of the first man who had grabbed her, the feel of his hands on her leg as he untied her ankles, she decided she could not afford to wait any longer. No ransom demand would be sent. No one would come to her rescue.
She was on her own.
Anna walked across to the window, convinced with the way her luck was running that it would not open. It was stiff but, to her considerable gratification, she was able to force it open. The freezing outside air blasted her face, but she welcomed the feel of freedom, so close and yet tantalisingly out of reach. The branches were close enough for her to be able to clamber from the window and grab the nearest one, except she would fall at the first hurdle if she attempted to do so with just her flimsy lace evening gloves covering her hands. She picked up the discarded parts of the sack and bound them awkwardly around her palms, leaving her fingers free. Sighing, she ripped her skirts so she could tie them around her legs, using a ribbon from her petticoats to fasten the blanket around her shoulders.
As ready as she would ever be, Anna took a deep breath and pulled herself through the window onto the ledge. It was covered with ice and, even with the rough sacking to protect her feet, she almost slid to her doom. Gasping, she grabbed the window frame and just managed to save herself. Heart pumping, she took a moment to compose herself and thought about her predicament. The nearest branch was further away than it had appeared from inside. So too was the ground. Unaware how much more time was available to her, Anna could not afford to linger. Her courage would fail her, or she would freeze to death, if she didn’t move right away. She lurched forward, reaching for the branch with both hands, stupidly closing her eyes at the vital moment. She gasped as her frozen fingers, stiff and unwilling to bend, made awkward contact with the frosty branch. It felt as though they had been burned, although how it was possible to burn and freeze at the same time, Anna could not have said.
One hand slipped and she found herself clinging awkwardly with the other, the fingers already so cold she didn’t think she could hold on. She glanced down—a long way down to the ground below her—as the muscles in her arms screamed for mercy. If she let go she would break her legs at the very least, and that she was fiercely determined not to do. Quite apart from anything else, she refused to do her captors’ work for them.
It was the thought of Lord Romsey’s eyes, alight with laughter, and of his lopsided smile when she said something that amused him that gave her courage to struggle on. She swung her legs violently, making her body work like a metronome as she continued to cling one-handed to the branch
“No she…damnation, that’s it!” Clarence thumped his thigh with his clenched fist. “I’m a numbskull. I should have made the connection much sooner.”
“What?” asked three Sheridans in unison.
“She was wearing Frankie’s shawl.” Clarence shared a glance between the brothers. “It wasn’t Anna who was the target, but Frankie.”
Chapter Six
Hearing the man casually order his underlings to get rid of her caused Anna’s survival instincts to kick in. Her inertia was replaced by the urgent need for action. She was damned if she would meekly sit here waiting for her own execution. She briefly considered bashing on the door and offering the men a handsome reward if they returned her to Berkeley Square. In the end, she decided against it, since she couldn’t be sure they would agree.
She waited until she heard the newcomer’s boots ringing on the stairs as he clattered down them. She waited a little longer, listening to the other two muttering curses, expecting them to grab her at any moment. If they had been given permission to kill her, there was no saying what they might do to her before that. Shuddering as she recalled the rancid breath of the first man who had grabbed her, the feel of his hands on her leg as he untied her ankles, she decided she could not afford to wait any longer. No ransom demand would be sent. No one would come to her rescue.
She was on her own.
Anna walked across to the window, convinced with the way her luck was running that it would not open. It was stiff but, to her considerable gratification, she was able to force it open. The freezing outside air blasted her face, but she welcomed the feel of freedom, so close and yet tantalisingly out of reach. The branches were close enough for her to be able to clamber from the window and grab the nearest one, except she would fall at the first hurdle if she attempted to do so with just her flimsy lace evening gloves covering her hands. She picked up the discarded parts of the sack and bound them awkwardly around her palms, leaving her fingers free. Sighing, she ripped her skirts so she could tie them around her legs, using a ribbon from her petticoats to fasten the blanket around her shoulders.
As ready as she would ever be, Anna took a deep breath and pulled herself through the window onto the ledge. It was covered with ice and, even with the rough sacking to protect her feet, she almost slid to her doom. Gasping, she grabbed the window frame and just managed to save herself. Heart pumping, she took a moment to compose herself and thought about her predicament. The nearest branch was further away than it had appeared from inside. So too was the ground. Unaware how much more time was available to her, Anna could not afford to linger. Her courage would fail her, or she would freeze to death, if she didn’t move right away. She lurched forward, reaching for the branch with both hands, stupidly closing her eyes at the vital moment. She gasped as her frozen fingers, stiff and unwilling to bend, made awkward contact with the frosty branch. It felt as though they had been burned, although how it was possible to burn and freeze at the same time, Anna could not have said.
One hand slipped and she found herself clinging awkwardly with the other, the fingers already so cold she didn’t think she could hold on. She glanced down—a long way down to the ground below her—as the muscles in her arms screamed for mercy. If she let go she would break her legs at the very least, and that she was fiercely determined not to do. Quite apart from anything else, she refused to do her captors’ work for them.
It was the thought of Lord Romsey’s eyes, alight with laughter, and of his lopsided smile when she said something that amused him that gave her courage to struggle on. She swung her legs violently, making her body work like a metronome as she continued to cling one-handed to the branch
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