It was a truly eerie sight—like they had taken her fondest memories and warped them into one of her childhood nightmares.
I do not understand.Wheat happened to Ranhold House? Where were the servants? Why was the whole estate plunged in darkness?
She looked around her and found the others coming to their senses as well. All of them were bound to chairs facing each other in a semi-circle, so they could see each other quite well.
But that was not all—Lord Draydon was also with them and he was dressed in the same clothes Claire had last seen him in when they were in the park.
His hair was wild and unkempt and the makings of a beard had obscured his defined jaw. His clothes were also dirty and he appeared to be unconscious.
He could not be dead, could he?Claire realized in horror.
“Are we in—” Trixie trailed off, her eyes taking in the familiar surroundings.
“We are in Ranhold House,” His Grace confirmed grimly.
“But what happened here?” she said, her hysteria evident in her voice, her eyes wild with fear as they fell on the Marquess. “And what ishedoing here?”
“It appears that whoever is behind this knows us very well,” the Duke muttered, voicing the fears in Claire’s heart.
Of course…how else could they know we were leaving for Minsbury Park? How else would they know that we had hired those ordinary-looking carriages and used the official carriages of the Duke as decoys?
Whoever it was behind this, he knew all too well the goings on in the townhouse of the Duke. If not, he knew somebody who did.
But who?Claire wondered.Who could be behind all this?
“Artemus!” the Duke hissed. He was seated closest to the Marquess, across from Claire and the ladies. “Artemus, wake up!”
However, the Marquess was still unresponsive, his chin laying softly against his chest. If it was not for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, Claire would have feared he was dead and they had bound his corpse with them.
Or that we are doomed to the same fate…
The Duke continued to try to rouse the unconscious Marquess, hoping to perhaps get some clues out of him but he remained unresponsive. With a burst of frustration, he struggled against his bonds and Claire feared that his chair would topple over and he would hurt himself.
“Careful!” Lady Suzanna warned her brother. “We do not know what lies in store for us. Maybe we should focus on getting free at the moment.”
“That is a great idea!” Trixie agreed, resolution shining in her eyes. “Except… How do you suggest we do that?”
How indeed?Claire wondered.
As in the carriage, they were tied very tightly to the chairs. The rough-hewn ropes had begun to cut into her delicate wrists and her ankles were bound to the legs of the chair as well. She could struggle until she fell.
But would that be enough to break the chair so I can get free?
They sat there for a good while, slowly working at their bonds until Claire felt tears leak out from her eyes in fear, desperation, and frustration. The ropes dug into her wrists painfully and showed no signs of slipping loose.
Is this how it all ends?
However, she felt that for Trixie’s sake, at the very least, she must not give up all hope. She had to make sure they would all make it out of this alive and well!
As Claire and her companions sat there, each one trying to break free of the ropes that bound them, she heard it.
“Shh!” His Grace hissed. “Someone is here!”
Her eyes widened when she heard it again—footsteps. Soft and regular. Unhurried.
There was somebody else in the manor with them.
She felt fear pounding in her heart as she heard those quiet steps draw closer and closer. Her palms started to sweat.
