FREE! In The Arms of My Enemy (Completed!) Book 1

Lottie Kidnapped

Miss Thorpe continued her dramatic display as the maids rushed about in a panic, trying to keep William from get­ting blood on the furniture, until the countess ordered everyone from the room except for Fidelia.

She nodded gratefully at the countess and took the towel and bowl of warm water that the servants had left, gently cleaning the blood from William's face. She wondered how many of the people who had witnessed his recount of the attack now suspected that he was a spy for the prince. If the countess had put the pieces together, she hadn't said anything, and it made Fidelia nervous.

"You always said a lady does not stare." She eyed the hovering count­ess. Fidelia had been kneeling beside the settee for several long minutes, bathing the blood from William's battered face.

"You truly care for him?" the countess asked suspiciously. "Or do you just care about his title and money?"

Fidelia snorted and rolled her eyes. "I'd prefer he didn't have money and a title, actually. Things were so much easier without them."

"How can you say that?" The countess shook her head. "What sort of woman are you?"

"I can say that because I love him. Just as he is." Fidelia paused, watching William's sleeping face. "And I'm not like you. I made my own way in the world before we were married. I don't need his money to take care of me now."

"You love him?"

"With all my heart."

The countess sat silently in the chair beside the settee, and Fidelia wondered if the woman was in shock from the sight of William's wounds or Fidelia's confession.

"M'lady?" Sally poked her head through the door. Fidelia looked up and did a double take. Tears were streaming down the maid's face, and she was pulling the hem of her apron until the threads came out.

"What's wrong?"

"Come with me. There's something you need to see."

Fidelia was loath to leave William, but the blood was cleaned off, and he was sleeping peacefully. She could leave him for a moment. Be­sides, she thought with a glance at the mute countess, his mother could call for help if he awoke.

She followed Sally up the stairs and to Lottie's room. Fidelia groaned. Had the girl been crying over Edmund?

"Lottie, now isn't the time for such childish—" Fidelia pushed the door open and froze. There, stuck into the wall opposite her, was Charles's knife, pinning a torn scrap of parchment into the wood. Lottie was nowhere to be found.

Fidelia tore the paper from the wall and clutched it in desper­ate hands.

Bring the prince's location to the bay in Budle near Waren's Mill by nightfall, or Miss Lottie will be delivered to Monsieur Le Coquin. Come alone if you want to see her alive. Tell no one.

Hurry, Monsieur Le Coquin is quite eager for her company.

Sincerely,

Mr. Hughes

Fidelia choked on a sob, and the paper fluttered to the ground.

"What are we going to do?" Sally wrung her apron.

"I'm going to get her back." Fidelia spun and marched from the room, her hands clenched into fists.

"But you don't know where the prince regent is!"

"Mr. Hughes doesn't know that. Fetch me a traveling cloak. Hurry!" Fidelia headed for the stables.

"Shouldn't we tell Lord Greyville?" Sally asked, following close be­hind.

"He's injured. Besides, the note said to come alone." Fidelia or­dered one of the stable boys to saddle a horse with a man's saddle, not one of those frilly and useless side-saddles.

"What about Mr. de Lacy?"

Fidelia rounded on the maid. "Absolutely not. I am never go­ing near that man ever again." The stable boy brought the horse, and Fidelia mounted, hiking her skirts up so that she could ride astride. She paused to give Sally one last order, praying her friend would obey. "Don't tell anyone where I've gone. Mr. Hughes may have spies in the household."

Kicking her horse hard in the sides, she disappeared down the lane in a cloud of dust.

***
William awoke groggily to the sound of his mother's frantic voice.

"What do you mean, she's gone after them?"

"She ordered me not to tell, but—" Sally began, but a fresh wave of emotion must have overwhelmed the girl.

His head pounded, and he struggled to sit up, looking around for the commotion. It was difficult to think clearly, thoughts darting out of his grasp like he was fishing for minnows in the stream.

"William." The countess rounded the settee, her normally well-groomed hair flying about her face as she held up a crumpled piece of parchment. "Lottie's been kidnapped."

William shook his head, trying to clear his mind as he struggled to understand. "What—"

"Fidelia's gone mad and left to save her. It is suicide! She will be killed! You must go after them."

William sat up sharply, his head pounding. He ignored the pain and launched to his feet. The ground swayed, and he fumbled for the note in her hands. "Where?"

"Budle." The countess grabbed William's arm, halting him. "William, I know I was cruel to her before, but she truly loves you. I was a fool. Please don't let her be killed. If anything happens to her or my darling Lottie, I shall never forgive myself."

"Fetch Edmund."

"He's not here."

William groaned. Where could that man be? He removed his mother's hand from his arm, refusing to stop as he marched past her. Thoughts of Fidelia—foolish, brave Fidelia riding out to face the French alone—filled him with fear. How long had she been gone? Could he reach her in time? At the back of his addled mind, he won­dered why the handwriting on the ransom note looked so odd. "Tell the Thorpes to lock down Ellingham Hall and arm their servants."

"Why?" the countess cried, following him out the door and down to the stable.

"The French are coming."

***

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