Fascinated (10 page)

“I’m responsible for her,” Carstairs said slowly.

Rathe sighed. “Considering I’m helping you abduct an unmarried girl, I suppose I can’t argue that. But you still need to be careful.”

Carstairs drew a deep breath. He needed to remember who and what he was, and how very little he knew about the woman lying on the seat beside him. There remained countless ways she could be bait at the center of a Fae trap. And even if he did help bring her all the way out of this enchantment, what then? Rathe was right; she would be unused to emotion. Look how openly she’d responded to her first taste of desire. How far would gratitude take her? She would not have any experience telling that feeling from true love, especially if it came mingled with the sweet and highly spiced passion he had rashly shown her.

And what if that passion wasn’t truly her choice? What if, as their minds and magics touched, he had projected his own particular desires upon her? The idea hit like cold water. Carstairs
had seduced others and permitted himself to be seduced, but never once had he sought a lover who did not know her own mind. Even the idea that he might do so was repugnant.

Alicia stirred against him. She was waking. Carstairs let go of her hand and sat her gently up so she rested against the seat back. Rathe watched him closely but Carstairs didn’t bother to smooth the grim expression from his face. It would not do for her to awaken and find him holding her. Not now.

Slowly, Alicia’s eyelids fluttered open. She looked directly at Carstairs, but her gaze was flat, cold and uncomprehending.

“I fainted,” she said, at once mildly puzzled and faintly annoyed.

“You did,” Carstairs agreed. A thick lock of dark golden hair had tumbled free of her pins and slanted across her cheek. He longed to brush it back, but he could not reach for her while she looked at him so devoid of feeling and memory.

“It must have been the sun. I’m terribly sorry, my lord. I…” Alicia noticed the direction of Carstairs’s gaze and put her hand up to her bared head. She saw her bonnet lying on the seat next to Rathe. Then she saw Rathe. “Where are we? Who is this? Where is Verity?”

“We are in my carriage. This is my friend Mr. Corwin Rathe. You met him at our engagement party.”

“Yes, of course. How do you do, Mr. Rathe?”

“Very well, I thank you, Miss Hartwell,” Rathe answered calmly.

“As for Verity,” Carstairs went on. “At this point I expect she is looking for us and raging at me for being the worst sort of libertine.” That was something else to deal with. He would not only have to calm Verity down, but convince her to trust him again.

One problem at a time,
Carstairs told himself.

Alicia touched her curls again, but her gaze roved the carriage, taking in the covered windows. Understanding gradually dawned behind her blank, amber eyes. “You are abducting me.”

“I’m afraid so, yes,” said Carstairs.

“Why? We were to be married in just three weeks!”

Because whether they know it or not, your family has been abetting your jailers. Because I want to know who you really are, and find out what you truly desire.
“I find I am out of patience,” he said. “Before another day has passed, I mean to have you safe.” That much, at least, was true.

As he spoke, Carstairs felt something shift inside Alicia. Now that he had touched her mind, it seemed the brutal enchantment could no longer entirely hide her from him. She heard that single word
safe
, and she yearned toward it. He longed to take her hand and reassure her that all would be well.

“My family will come looking for me. Verity will sound the alarm.” Whatever she might be straining toward inside, Alicia spoke with cool rationality, as if she could make him change his mind about her kidnapping by force of pure reason. It was almost absurd, but Carstairs found himself far beyond laughter.

“Of that I have no doubt,” said Carstairs. “And it will be a long time before she forgives me for playing her for a fool.”

“I could scream.”

“You could,” he agreed. “And I could stop your mouth, although I’d rather not.”

For the first time since she woke, the fire of anger kindled behind Alicia’s words. “I did not expect you would stoop so low, sir.”

“You have no idea,” Carstairs replied evenly, even as he struggled to keep the anger from his own expression. Carstairs had been to war. He had seen men die next to him and he had killed
without a second thought. But he had never truly hated any enemy as he hated the unknown person who bound Alicia with this enchantment.

Despite this, Carstairs had to admit the enchantment that so disordered her heart and mind had some advantages. Probably, Alicia would not throw hysterics at them, or even fight very much. To fight, one needed to be roused strongly to anger or desperation, and those were the very things denied her. As it was, she had only a light furrow between her brows as she reclaimed her bonnet and occupied herself in retying and re-pinning it. She kept her face turned toward the covered window so she would not have to look at either him or Rathe. At least, that was what Carstairs thought at first. Then he noticed she was craning her neck carefully, trying to see around the thick shades.

“And I ask you to entertain no thoughts of running away once the carriage stops,” Carstairs said. “I would also have no compunction about tying you down.”
I would probably enjoy it far more than is good for either of us,
he added silently, and instantly cursed himself for it. She was entirely in his power, and ensnared by forces even he could barely comprehend, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking of how delicious her body had felt as she melted back against his chest.

Maybe Rathe is right. Maybe I should leave this now. Because I’ve clearly lost what few wits I ever possessed.

“You need have no fear,” she replied coolly. “I am not fool enough to risk a broken neck, or pointless indignities.” But she did not turn her face from the window and Carstairs could see nothing of her but the straw bonnet with its ridiculous ribbons and flowers.

Look at me, Alicia.
Carstairs clamped down on the thought
before he could stretch it toward her. He wanted to move closer, to touch her and kiss her until her desire, her
self
, shone through. He wanted to touch again the Alicia Hartwell he had glimpsed beyond the enchantment, the woman filled with passion and power. And yes, he wanted to feel her leaning against him, to draw out the subtle nuances of her pleasure and teach her all he knew of desire. But until he had that cursed brooch off her, he had to endure the fact that she could not remember any but the most banal of events that passed between them.

The carriage rattled to a halt. Rathe opened the door, revealing the mews behind Carstairs’s house in quiet Mayfair. He could have had a more fashionable address, but the relative isolation of the neighborhood suited both his tastes and his requirements.

Rathe held up his hand and Alicia permitted herself to be helped from the carriage. Her eyes darted this way and that, but Carstairs came up right behind her, reminding her she was outnumbered, even before Lynne jumped off the box to land lightly in front of them. Lynne bowed gallantly to Alicia, then led the way through Carstairs’s small but well-kept garden. Alicia walked calmly between himself and Rathe, but Carstairs felt tension radiating from her. Perhaps he’d been wrong. She was angry at her treatment, and humiliated. These feelings were passions in their own right. She might not be able to muster the will to fight, but she might find the ability to run.

Carstairs handed Rathe his keys so the Sorcerer could unlock the back door. Rathe disappeared into the shadowed interior to make sure the house was empty. Carstairs trusted his servants with his life and the secrets of his house, but he’d still sent them away for this night. There were too many ways his scheme could
go wrong. He did not want to unnecessarily risk those who had been loyal to his family for so many years.

With Lynne behind them, Carstairs guided Alicia up the back stairs to the plushly carpeted corridor of the second floor. They arrived just as Rathe stepped out of the door to the guest apartments.

“Is everything set, Lynne?” asked Rathe over Carstairs’s shoulder.

“Aye, sir.” Lynne carelessly touched his knuckle to his brow in imitation of a sailor’s salute.

“Very good.” Carstairs faced Alicia. “Now, Alicia, you’ll go in that room and take off your pelisse and bonnet.”

“Why should I?” she inquired icily.

“Because you don’t want me taking them off you.”

Alicia’s eyes slid from Carstairs, to Rathe, to Lynne. “You could be planning some ruse. Why on earth should I help you?”

“She’s got a point there, Carstairs.” Lynne’s green eyes flashed with sharp mischief.

“You’re not helping, Lynne.”

Alicia faced the fair-haired former pirate, evidently guessing him to be some sort of weak link in her captor’s chain. “Take me out of here,” she said. “My family will pay well for my return.”

“I’m sure they will.” Lynne attempted to school his face into an expression of gravity. “But there’s not money enough in the world to induce me to return you to them.”

“What’s it to be, Alicia? Will you do as I say, or will I strip you down myself?” Carstairs clenched his hands to fists so she would not see them tremble. God in Heaven. He was a barbarian with no restraint of mind or manner. He could be walking into a snare, with her as the sweetest lure of all, and yet he seemed determined
to quicken his pace. Carstairs was very conscious of Lynne and Rathe both watching him, waiting for some sign he might be wavering from his duty.

“Well, Alicia?” Carstairs said through gritted teeth. “What is your decision?”

“I am not given much choice.” She strode through the bedroom door and shut it firmly behind her.

Lynne had sense enough to turn away before Carstairs could threaten to wipe the smirk off his face. “I’m never going to be able to explain this to Jane,” he muttered.

“Miranda’s not going to be any too pleased when she hears of it, either.” Rathe started down the main staircase.

“Where are you going?” Carstairs growled at Rathe.

“To stand under your betrothed’s window,” he answered. “Just in case she’s been reading Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels and has ideas about making herself a rope from the bedsheets.”

Which only made Carstairs angrier, because he should have thought of it. As Alicia herself had pointed out, she might not have many sensibilities available to her, but she did possess a very fine brain.

“You’d better watch the kitchen door, just in case,” he snapped at Lynne. Lynne saluted again and disappeared down the hall.

Left alone in the shadowed corridor, Carstairs could do nothing but pace. He tried very hard not to imagine Alicia on the other side of the door. In his overheated fancy, he saw her removing not just her pelisse, but also her dress. She’d struggle with her tapes, slipping her shapely arms out of first one muslin sleeve, then the other. She’d bare a light chemise that would allow a man clear sight of her curves…

The knob turned. Carstairs straightened up and faced the door,
holding himself to attention. He would be master of his own mind. His cock might think it belonged to a randy youth, but he was a gentleman, and Alicia was under his protection. He would behave like a gentleman, if it cost him everything he had…

The door opened a crack, and a bundle of cloth flew out, hitting him square in the face. Startled, Carstairs shouted, and by the time he’d clawed the pelisse aside, Alicia was halfway down the stairs. Cursing, Carstairs raced after her.

He caught up with her on the landing, grabbed her by the waist and hauled her off her feet. Pain jabbed his wrist. He swore loudly, but his grip loosened enough for Alicia to pull away. Carstairs lunged for her, and trapped her against the railing with his body, while he wrenched the hat pin from her hand. He tossed it aside and clamped his hands hard around her wrists. Otherwise he risked a slap, or a good clawing. She might not know how to fight, but she had good instincts, as the spot of blood welling up on his wrist clearly showed.

“You will return to your room,” he growled.

“No.” She was breathing hard and her cheeks were flushed. Even now her eyes searched for the hat pin. But Carstairs was not in the mood for any more games. With a blasphemous oath, he threw her inelegantly over his shoulder, and stomped back up the stairs.

Alicia kicked uselessly a few times, and her fists pummeled his back, but now that she was disarmed, she could not muster a solid blow. When they reached the guest room door, he set her firmly down on the other side of the threshold. She tilted her chin up defiantly as he slammed the door shut. This time, he locked it.

Still swearing, he retrieved the rumpled pelisse and bonnet she’d thrown at him and started down the stairs. Lynne and Rathe
had evidently sensed something was amiss, because by the time he reached the foyer, they were both there to meet him.

Carstairs handed Alicia’s garments to Lynne. “Take my coat and hat as well, and make it good.”

“By tomorrow, there’ll be a half dozen carriage houses where the landlord will swear you and Miss Hartwell are on your way to the Scottish border,” Lynne assured him. He rolled the lady’s garments quickly into an anonymous bundle and tucked them under his arm as he strolled out the door.

Carstairs faced Rathe. “You can tell our captain things are proceeding according to plan.”

“I’ll tell him things are proceeding,” replied Rathe. “Are you sure you don’t want help?”

“Alicia doesn’t deserve any more humiliation than she’s already had, and there are some things I—we—may do that…you don’t need to witness.”

Although this plainly left Rathe unhappy, the Sorcerer nodded a curt farewell and took his leave. Carstairs looked up the stairs, all the way up to the second floor where its open corridor curved around his vaulted foyer. He could see the guest suite door from where he stood. Alicia waited on the other side, angry, frightened and trapped, but this time he was the one holding the key.

That was not as nearly as enticing a realization now as it had been before she’d stabbed him.