Page 65 of This Earl of Mine

The boy thrust a folded letter at him. “I was told to give this to you.”

Ben broke the seal, scanned the letter, then swore fluently and long. “Thatbastard. I should have put a sword through him when I had the chance.”

“What is it?”

He thrust the paper at Alex.

“‘I have your wife,’” Alex read aloud. “‘Tell her sister to retrieve her jewels, along with any cash in the house, and deliver them to me at Rupert’s place in Hounslow. Juliet can give you the direction. If you do not do as I say, I will enjoy my cousin as you enjoyed her last night. Come alone and unarmed, or I will hurt her. Josiah Caversteed.’”

Benedict turned and headed back into the Tricorn. He already had his trusty Baker rifle—the strap of its leather case was strung across his body in anticipation of dealing with Johnstone—but he took the stairs two at a time and went back into his apartment. He retrieved a pair of dueling pistols from his desk drawer, loaded them with the ease and efficiency of long practice, thrust them into his belt, and hastened back downstairs.

Alex and Seb were still in exactly the same place on the doorstep. Ben leapt down the steps toward the stable, shouting for one of the grooms to saddle his horse. His friends were close behind him.

Seb frowned in sudden recognition. “Caversteed? Not that cheating whoreson I had thrown out of here last night?”

“The very same.”

Seb whistled. “Her cousin, eh? He’s a nasty piece of work.”

Ben mounted his chestnut stallion and motioned to his friends to get out of the way.

“You’re off to rescue the damsel in distress, then?” Alex said.

“Of course I bloody am. She’s my wife.” Benedictscowled. “I swear, if he’s harmed one hair on her head, I’m going to make him wish he’d never been born.” He kicked his heels to the stallion’s sides and clattered out of the yard.

It took him less than ten minutes to ride to Grosvenor Square, and he cursed every slow-moving cart, stray dog, and suicidal pedestrian that got in his way. He turned into the square to find a traveling post chaise pulled up in front of the house and Juliet standing on the steps, a traveling trunk and several band boxes piled at her feet.

He clattered to a stop behind the chaise. “What’s all this?” he demanded sharply. “Where’s your mother? Where’s Pieter?”

Juliet’s face paled, and she clasped her hands to her bosom.

“Don’t even consider fainting,” Benedict growled.

She swallowed visibly. “Pieter’s visiting his sister, and M-mother’s having lunch with Lady Cowper.”

Benedict narrowed his eyes at the luggage. “And what are you doing?”

Juliet managed to look both flustered and extremely guilty. “Oh, you mustn’t say anything! Simeon and I are eloping. Don’t try to stop us, Mr. Wylde, I beg you.” She achieved a wonderful imitation of a tragic Greek heroine, all wrinkled forehead and glistening eyes.

Ben kicked his boot from the stirrup and dismounted. “I don’t give a tinker’s damn what you do. Your cousin’s taken Georgie.”

Juliet’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean, taken her?”

“I mean, he’s kidnapped her for ransom. Now go inside and get me her jewels and any cash you have in the house. Quickly now.” When Juliet just stood there gawping, he snapped. “Go!”

Juliet went.

“Don’t talk to my fiancée like that!”

Simeon’s shaggy head appeared from inside the chaise. Benedict took a deep breath and reminded himself not to smash his fist into the boy’s face. It was bad form to hit a man with glasses. “Button it, Pettigrew. I don’t have time to deal with you now.”

Juliet returned, panting from her exertions. Her hands held a bulging reticule with a drawstring top. Part of a necklace peeked out, and Benedict recognized it with a pang as the one Georgie had worn at O’Meara’s, the one she’d tried to pass off as fake—a fortune in diamonds and emeralds. His stomach clenched. He had to get to her.

“Where are you supposed to take them?” Juliet asked.

“Rupert’s place in Hounslow. Your cousin said you’d know the direction.”

Juliet’s perfect forehead creased. “Uncle Rupert had a hunting box there. Father took us a few times when we were little.” She screwed up her face. “But that was years ago. I can barely remember how to get there. I never took much notice. All I remember is that it’s a few miles outside of the town, past a tavern called the Dog and Duck.” She glanced mournfully at the bag as she handed it over. “You’re not really going to give those to him, are you?”

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