Page 173 of Harpy of the Ton
Safe at last.
The clip-clop of the horse’s hooves was joined by another, heavier tread from behind.
Millie glanced over her shoulder. “That’ll be the mail coach from Midchester.”
The air vibrated with the beating of hooves, and Bella’s stomach twitched with apprehension.
“Steady, Bessie girl!” Millie said as the pony tossed its head from side to side. She steered the cart to the edge of the road and stopped. “Someone’s in a hurry. We’ll let them pass.”
Four horses emerged from the bend, pulling a carriage that swayed from side to side. Bella winced as she heard the crack of a whip.
“That’s not the mail coach,” Millie said.
Bella’s gaze settled on the coachman. His livery was red, and though it was too far away to notice any detail, she caught a gleam of gold.
It can’t be…
“Dunton…” Bella’s throat constricted with fear. “Dear God, he’s found me!”
“Run!” Millie cried.
Bella glanced at the coach bearing down on them, then she leaped off the cart and ran along the road.
“No!” Millie screamed. “Get off the road—head for the river!”
Bella slipped between the trees at the side of the road. The ground sloped away, plunging down a bank toward a roaring, raging torrent of water. She caught her breath as a surge of fear gripped her, paralyzing her with the memory of bitter cold that stabbed at her flesh like a thousand knives. A face swam into her vision—a ruddy, fleshy face, watching her through the bushes, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She opened her mouth, fighting for breath, willing her body to scream, while icy fingers clawed at her legs, pulling her down in a spiral, sending her into hell…
“No!”
She raised her hands to cover her ears, but the roaring ripped through her senses. She retreated and collided with a solid form.
“At last!” a familiar voice cried. “I have you, my dear.”
Her vision cleared and she caught sight of a familiar face.
Dunton.
The same face that had watched her fall into the river.
“It was you!” she cried. “You left me to die.”
“What nonsense,” he said, and she fought the ripple of nausea at his sour breath. “Come with me now.”
“Let me go!” She struggled as he dragged her back to the road.
“Leave her be, you—Oh!” Millie cut off with a scream, and Bella caught sight of Dunton’s footman holding her limp form in his arms.
“Millie!” Bella said. “What have you done, you brute?”
“Leave the whore, Thomas,” Dunton said. “I have what I want.”
“You’ll never have what you want,” Bella snarled. “You’ll have to drag me down the aisle in chains.”
“That can be arranged.”
Dunton pulled her hard against his body and forced his mouth over hers. She twisted her head to one side, then heslipped his hand inside her gown, and she winced at the sound of the material tearing.
“You mean to take me in the dirt, like the rutting pig that you are?”
