Page 22 of Taken By the Dangerous Duke

She did not want to sleep, but she was tired. Margaret knew that once she slept and woke, it would be time to leave the safety of the duke. She got under the blankets, and Jester hopped up onto the bed, curling up on her stomach above the blankets.

Margaret woke soon after, and she immediately knew she was in danger. She blinked in the darkness, trying to see what was above her, or who. It was the stink that came to her long before she could make out who it was. The man’s breath was rancid, and he seemed to be breathing purposefully in her face. And there was a wetness too as if water was dripping from his face—or sweat.

She tried to scream out, but she could not. She tried to move her limbs, but she could not. Margaret was frozen to the spot, her body not her own anymore. She looked wildly around, hoping that someone would be there to help her, but no help was forthcoming.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she finally saw who was atop the bed, straddling her. The disgust wretched in her throat before the pangs of fear came streaming back. She did not know how, but he had found her. He had found her, and he had come for her.

“I bet you thought you had escaped me,” sneered Gerald. His lips were moist as he spoke, and Margaret feared that he was going to kiss her, but thankfully, he did not. He did, however, jump off the bed and pull the blanket off her. Margaret wrapped her arms around herself, but she had gone to bed fully clothed and was not in a state of undress.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,” said Gerald. “Get up. Get out of bed.”

Margaret wanted to protest. She wanted to tell him to go to hell, to refuse to get out of the bed, but her shaking body complied with the awful man. When she was halfway out of the bed, he grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her up. Even his grip felt slimy. And, he reeked too. There was dirt and grime and an oiliness that she could not place.

If she screamed out, someone in the inn would hear her and they would come to her aid. The duke would save her if only she could force words from her lips, but she was muted by the fear. Margaret hated herself at this instant. She had run away from this man, and she was letting him take her back.

“Come on, hurry up,” he spat.

Margaret tried to put her boots on, but Gerald dragged her away, taking her arm tighter this time, almost hurting her. He dragged her to the door, not bothering about her boots or her pack.

The barmaid, Margaret thought. She might still be up, and she will stop him.

But, the hallway was empty. Not a sound pervaded the inn. The bar area too—there was no one there. And, when they got outside, there was no one looking after the horses through the night, and the horses were silent too. Not even a breeze stirred the town.

A lone carriage sat on the road, a driver at the reins, waiting to take them from the town. The door to the coach was opened, and Margaret was pushed in. The moonlight made it possible to see the two other figures in there, the ones sitting opposite. Her mother and father regarded her with scowls.

“You stupid girl,” uttered her mother. “Why did you not listen to your father?”

“Always been obstinate,” commented her father, shaking his head.

“I will have to take the time to properly break this one in,” said Gerald as he sat down beside her and kissed her cheek, leaving a wet spot there.

“Do what must be done,” said her father.

“Where are you taking me?” asked Margaret, finally finding her voice.

“Home, dear,” answered her mother. “Home, where you belong. You should never have run away.”

The coach rumbled to a start, and they started the long journey back to London. Margaret closed her eyes tight and wished she was dead. Anything would be better than this.

CHAPTER10

The Decision Is Made

Margaret’s eyes flew open to see Jester straddling her atop the bed. The cat shrieked and almost fell to the floor as Margaret jumped up and out of the bed. She looked wildly around the room, rubbing her hands through her hair and over her face. She closed her eyes tight and opened them again. The room remained the same.

“It was a dream,” she muttered. “It was a dream.”

Jester composed himself and he rubbed up against her leg. Margaret took some deep breaths, her body still shaking. She looked to the window. It was light outside, just past sunrise. She worried that she was too late. Margaret ran to the window and looked out, but she could not see the carriage from where her room was situated.

But, she could see the duke. It did not look as if he was making his way to the coach, perhaps out for a morning stroll instead.

“Stay here, Jester,” she ordered. Margaret put on her boots as swiftly as she could and grabbed her shawl. She raced out of the room and down the stairs.

“Too close,” she muttered to herself as she ran. “I can’t go back. I can’t go back. I won’t go back.”

She ran around the building when she got downstairs and took off in the direction the duke had been walking. It did not take her long to catch up with him, and she almost ran and embraced him. Margaret stopped herself just short of the duke.

“Margaret,” he said, surprised by her appearance. “What are you…?”

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