Page 13 of Swindled By a Spinster
She didn’t miss Lillian and Ruth’s displeased expressions. In an attempt to mollify the pair Phoebe gave them a wave and added, “I owe you both a boon.”
Appeased, the devilishly clever ladies waved back.
As door swung closed, Ruth replied, “I shall remember you said that. There is no going back on your word.”
She might regret granting the pair a wish later, but she would be forever grateful for their help today.
CHAPTER NINE
Five days. Five damn infuriating days had passed. Had Archbroke really abandoned him? Torrance rolled his head from side to side. He’d given the Home Office his prime years. Surely his comrades were looking for him. Giving up hope would mean the end. But how long could he continue the battle of wills with his captor? While he tried to engage in conversation with the woman who had him under watch every minute of the day, she studied him. Hours upon hours the woman’s gaze had been solely focused upon him. He was on display like those poor creatures at the Royal Menagerie.
The menagerie. The crown jewels. London Tower.
Sleep deprived, he struggled to retain his train of thought. Except this time, bells were ringing in his head. Torrance stared directly at the darkened corner that his captor masterfully blended into and said, “The London Tower is a maze, is it not?”
No reply. Not that he expected one. Not after days of silence as a response.
The woman rarely spoke, and when she did it was only to ask a question of her own.
Deprived of visual reactions to his questions, he relied upon the sounds in the room to provide him clues as to what thewoman was thinking. The swoosh of a skirt meant his query had made her uncomfortable. The tap of a heel meant she was agitated or angry. And the click of nails upon wood indicated she was pondering.
They had spent many hours in each other’s company. However, he’d gleaned very little insight into the woman’s intent or purpose. Cursing himself for not managing to devise any sort of escape plan, Torrance rose to his feet to pace about the room. He was granted the freedom to move about the room but not afforded any privacy. After the first night and his failed attempt at saving himself, his captor rarely left the room, but when she did her burly bodyguard remained behind.
A maid wheeled in a cart laden with food and positioned it in the shadowed corner. Like all the other staff that had come and gone, the maid carried out her duties without speaking and left. Tortured by the scent of freshly baked bread, Torrance’s stomach rumbled.
Moments later a roll flew at him and he snatched it out of the air. “How gracious of you to share.”
“I’m beginning to find your comments rather annoying.” The edge to the woman’s voice was new.
Was she too beginning to tire?
He took a bite from the still-warm bread roll and slowly chewed to prevent him from making a snarky reply that might provoke her further.
Her bodyguard, who Torrance had begun to refer to as Mr. Big B, moved into the shadows, and then to his surprise left the room, leaving his captor extremely vulnerable.
“Aren’t you worried I might try to overpower you and demand release?” Torrance asked.
The clink of metal hitting a plate was her response.
Should he approach or remain at a safe distance? He had no clue if she wielded a weapon. With no light to reflect off a pistol or knife, it might be a trap. Best to remain right where he was.
“I’m disappointed in Lord Archbroke and his men, but more so in Lady Phoebe. Aren’t you?”
Something was amiss. She’d given him food without issue. She’d dismissed her bodyguard. And now she was engaging in conversation. What was the woman up to?
“Why would I be disappointed in Lady Phoebe?”
“I provided her and only her a slew of clues necessary to find you, yet she has failed to appear.”
Torrance choked as he tried to swallow. Damn. The woman was indeed trying to kill him.
While he continued to cough and sputter, his captor continued, “Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps she isn’t in love with you as I’d presumed. Or…might it be that your Lady Phoebe is not as clever as everyone believes her to be.” The horrid clicking of nails against wood echoed through the room. “Although, it was Lady Phoebe who managed to track me down first and with no aid from you—a feat I hadn’t considered possible. It would be rather sad to think that Lady Phoebe might share the same affinity as Lord Archbroke, who is often too focused on the trees right before him to enjoy the beauty of the forest.”
“I believe you have that backward, Archbroke is a master at viewing matters in their entirety.”
“Hmm…I doubt that I’m wrong in my estimation of Archbroke. Having studied the man for years, I’m confident I could predict the man’s moves before he’s even conceived them…as I proved a few weeks ago. However, you might be correct when it comes to matters of the Home Office, but when the issue is of a more personal nature I believe I’m spot on. You are important to him, a key part of Archbroke’s life. Hence his inability to take action for fear he’ll make a mistake.”
Torrance sank down upon the settee. This wasn’t a woman out for vengeance. This wasn’t even about the crown jewels. “Why did you kidnap me?” he asked.
