Page 73 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

“Lady Hannah Godwin. My sister-in-law,” Laurel said stiffly.

A gleam appeared in his eyes. “Good. Very good. A bonus.”

She didn’t understand what he meant. She only knew the danger to her and Hannah—and the servants—was very real. They drove a short distance and the carriage stopped. She glanced out the window and saw nothing but a brick wall very close to the vehicle. The door opened and the other man reached in and grabbed the folds of Hannah’s dress. He yanked her away from Laurel and Hannah cried out as he hauled her from the carriage.

The other one merely motioned her with his gun. She rose and stepped to the open doorway, where she was also grabbed and brought to the ground.

Once the man with the weapon joined them, she asked, “What are you going to do with my driver and footman?”

“I may kill them. It depends upon whether you cooperate or not.”

Her eyes flew to the inside of the carriage at the bound, helpless men. A sick feeling washed over her as the door slammed, knowing she might never see them again.

She looked around and saw they were in a narrow alley. The ducal carriage barely fit into the space. The first man climbed atop it and took up the reins and the vehicle pulled away.

“Walk inside. Don’t say a word,” the man said as he opened the door.

He shoved Laurel through and motioned for the weeping Hannah to follow. Hannah ran to Laurel and clung to her. They shuffled through the dark passageway until he called, “Stop.”

Opening a door, she and Hannah walked through it. Laurel already knew who would be waiting.

Julius Farmon.

He sat behind a desk, his gloating, black eyes roaming over her from head to foot. He glanced toward Hannah and licked his lips. Both women shuddered.

“Sit,” he ordered.

They did as commanded. Hannah continued to weep copiously but Laurel remained dry-eyed.

“I’m the one you want. Let her go.”

Farmon’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll issue the orders around here,” he snapped. He steepled his fat fingers and studied Hannah. “Who is she?’

When Laurel didn’t reply, he turned to the man who’d brought them here. “Braxton?”

“Lady Hannah Godwin. The sister-in-law.”

“Ah.” Farmon looked pleased. “An extra, unexpected prize. You are the sister to the Duke of Linfield?” he asked.

Hannah nodded, her hand tightening on Laurel’s.

“I only thought I would be ransoming Linfield’s wife to him. Now, I’ll receive twice what I ask for.”

His words caused Hannah to wail. Farmon nodded and the man he’d called Braxton moved quickly, slapping Hannah hard. It stunned her and then she buried her head against Laurel’s shoulder.

She stroked her friend’s hair. “Hush, Hannah. Quiet now.”

Hannah quivered against her.

“My husband will pay you. Just don’t touch her again.”

What Laurel didn’t say was that once Anthony saw his sister’s face, it would fuel his rage. He would kill these men for what they had dared to do.

Farmon nodded again and she wrapped both arms around Hannah, trying to protect her. Instead, she found herself ripped away from her friend. Braxton struck Laurel even harder than he had Hannah. Instead of a slap, he hit her with his fist. Pain shot through her as if a lightning bolt had struck her cheekbone. He’d also clipped her eye and she knew it would turn black.

“I said I am in charge here, Laurel.” Farmon pursed his lips. “Don’t tell me what to do. Don’t even speak again. Is that understood?”

She wavered, dizzy, but nodded, letting this monster know she would not cause further trouble. Her face throbbed painfully. Nausea grew in her belly and not only because of having been hit so hard. Her gut told her Farmon would demand a hefty ransom from Anthony—but he had no intention of returning them. He wasn’t a man anyone stood up to. Laurel had not only refused to become his mistress, she had physically attacked him. Embarrassed him. Julius Farmon was a man whose revenge would be complete.

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