Page 94 of Seducing the Knave

Chapter Twenty-seven

As soon as the door slammed shut, the vehicle set off, taking several turns at a heart-racing speed. Elle was jostled about on the floor until she managed to haul herself up to the seat only to discover that the windows had been painted over. She frantically reached for the door, intending to fling herself to the street regardless of potential harm. But the door didn’t budge. She was locked in. And when she reached into her pocket for her knife, it wasn’t there. It must have fallen out during her struggles when she’d been upended over the brute’s shoulder.

Oh my God!

Elle forced herself to calm down. Pressing one palm over the wild flutter of her heart and the other over her churning stomach, she forced herself to breathe deep and clear the panic from her mind.

She’s been abducted—that much was obvious. Right off the street and in full daylight. But why? By whom? And what in bloody hell did they intend to do with her?

Fear and fury equally fueled her as she pounded on the roof of the cab.

“I demand that you turn this vehicle around immediately and return me to St. Giles.”

The driver’s responding snicker sent a chill across her nape.

Invoking Max’s name had worked well enough with the abused wretch on the street; perhaps it was worth trying again.

“Do you wish for death?” she shouted. “Because the Griffin will not take this transgression lightly.”

Instead of the fear she’d hoped for, her threat inspired amusement. Her abductor’s laugh made her stomach turn. “We’re fuckin’ countin’ on it. Now shut it. We’re almost there.”

Panic sparked in Elle’s chest. Almost where?

Even though every instinct in her body urged her to fight—to kick and scream and batter her fists at the cab door—she did not. Impulsiveness would not save her.

Sitting back in her seat, she carefully assessed her situation.

Though she was tempted to suspect Jasper, the vitriol in the driver’s reply to her mention of the Griffin and his admittance that they were actually hoping for retaliation suggested this abduction was intended as a strike against Max. They were using her as a pawn—or bait, rather—to drawn Max out.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Frustration pushed up past her momentary fear.

She could not let herself become a weakness to the man she loved.

The man she loved.

Dammit. She did love him.

And she was suddenly furious with herself for not having had the courage to tell him so sooner. It was going to be the very first thing she did once she got out of this.

Not much later, the cab turned a tight corner and slowed to a stop. She wasn’t ready. She hadn’t come up with any sort of plan yet for how to escape.

But considering how quickly they’d reached their destination, they hadn’t gone very far out of St. Giles. That could be a good thing.

Elle straightened her spine and fixed a glare of severe reproach on her features just before the door to the hackney cab flew open to reveal the mocking countenance of her abductor.

He was very rough in appearance with a scruffy, unkept beard, bushy brows, and a wide nose. His shoulders were broad but hunched, as if his spine was curved a bit unnaturally beneath his oversized coat, and he wore ragged leather gloves.

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