Eleven
Madelene’s heart soared when she heard the front door open and close softly. He said he’d be late tonight, and he certainly was. She was just finishing up a fresh pot of tea, hoping it might somehow make Simon appear. Somehow it always seemed to.
With a smile, she placed the tea on the table along with a pair of scones and some jam. She hadn’t even bothered to tie her robe, in the hopes that their late night snack might lead to an even more tempting indulgence.
It wasn’t Simon who appeared in the kitchen doorway, though. Madelene gasped and stumbled backwards. It was the large man who had accompanied him when he’d taken her from Auburn Ridge.
“Apologies, miss. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She continued to shuffle away from him until her back was against the far wall. She reached over and snatched a knife from the cutting board, holding it out in front of her. It trembled along with the rest of her as her heart thundered against her ribs.
His mouth twitched. He was not the least bit intimidated. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him, even with the knife.
“Do you remember me?” he asked.
She nodded. Simon had assured her he was safe, but what was he doing here?
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He didn’t move any closer, and slowly, she lowered the knife.
After a moment, she put it back in its place. Looking down, she quickly pulled the sides of her robe closed and tied the sash tightly at her waist. Not that it mattered. At least this nightgown wasn’t wet and mostly transparent like the one she’d been wearing the other time this man had seen her.
“You need to come with me.”
Madelene shook her head and folded her arms across her chest.
“It’s Allister… Simon. He’s not well. He sent me for you.” He held up a key.
Madelene’s stomach filled with ice. “What happened?” She took a step toward him. “Where is he?” Simon was strong and more than capable of protecting himself. “Is he hurt?” Panic made her skin prickle. Something was very wrong.
The man sighed but spoke softly. “Suffice it to say he’s alive for now, and he asked for you.”
He’s alive for now. A band cinched around her lungs. “I’ll get changed,” she said frantically as she moved toward the door.
He shook his head. “We need to go now, and where we’re going, no one will care if you’re in your nightclothes.”
Pushing her countless questions aside, she nodded and followed him out of the house, praying this wasn't some kind of strange trap.
A black carriage waited for them, and the man helped her to step up into it. It was strangely luxurious. Obviously not Simon’s. It quite clearly belonged to a rich man, and every inch of it was black and polished.
For a few minutes, they rode in silence, but then Madelene remembered something. “I thought you didn’t like carriages.”
He laughed softly. “I don’t.” He looked much less intimidating with his lips turned up in a smile. “But I’ve been tasked with making sure you’re delivered safely, and if my boss learned that I left you alone on the journey, I doubt I’d be fond of the consequences. Besides, it’s not far.”
None of this made any sense. Who in heaven’s name was this man’s boss, how was he connected to Simon, and why did he care about Madelene’s welfare?
Only a quarter hour passed before the carriage came to a halt beneath a porte-cochère behind a nondescript building. Was this where Simon worked? The office he always went to?
“Wait here,” Brennan instructed before exiting the carriage. He spoke with another large man who seemed to be standing guard before disappearing inside the building.
Every minute felt like an eternity. She needed to see Simon. Eventually, the door opened again, and a beautiful blonde woman hurried through followed by Brennan. She was also dressed in her nightclothes, so perhaps he’d been right.
Brennan opened the door to the carriage, and the woman climbed inside. “Madelene?”
She nodded.
“I’m Gwen,” she said, reaching for Madelene’s hands. “I’m sure this is all very upsetting, but I promise you’re safe here.”
“Is Simon here?” Wherever ‘here’ was.
