Grace (The Marriage Market Book 2) (13 page)

              "Don't relax yet, my love. I've decided to wait until just before bedtime to give you your spanking. I want you to stew about it a little longer," he informed her, kissing her hair.

              "Oh, Hugh, no, let's just get it over with," she pleaded. "You know how I hate the waiting."

              "That's the point, isn't it? Why must you get into mischief the moment my back is turned?"

"I wasn't trying to get into trouble, in fact I didn't even think about it."

"That's just it, Amelia. You give very little thought to your personal safety," he scolded.

"I only wanted to help Molly and Martha get the cabin ready. The dance is two days away and Molly and Angus will be married that night. Martha and I wanted it to feel like a real home to them. Besides, you haven't set foot in there all week. How was I to know you'd pick today to show up?"

              "I see," Hugh said with a frown. "So you still don't understand the point, only that you got caught. Tsk tsk, what a naughty girl I married. It's a good thing I enjoy turning your pretty bottom pink before I make love to you."

Amelia blushed and shoved him as he laughed.

"Stop teasing me, husband. Pink is very nice, but red is not something that brings me any pleasure, especially when you squeeze it during our play."

              "All right, pink it shall be, but the next time you disobey me I'll make it as red as one of those cherry tomatoes you're so fond of."

              "Thank you," she murmured, tilting her face up for a kiss and settling happily in his embrace.

              "So tell me, when may we expect your Aunts Ermengarde and Hortense?" he asked with a grin.

              "Any day now," she sighed. "Oh I feel so guilty, knowing they've made such a long journey for nothing."

              "It's not for nothing. You'll be thrilled to see them and they you, I'm sure. When they are ready to return east, I'll pay for a luxury car and all the champagne they can drink. Where did they come up with those names anyway and how did you know who they really were?" he asked curiously.

              "We were in a play at school. They played the parts of Ermengarde and Hortense Basenfelder and I was their niece. I'm certain they used those names in case I needed rescuing. No one but me would know who to expect."

              "I hope that's the reason and they're not in some kind of trouble. They could just as easily be hiding from someone. You did mention you don't know how Grace managed to get away."

              "Well, let's hope not. Hugh?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair. "Don't you think it's time we went to bed?"

"It's early yet," he replied, surprised at her request.

              "I know, but I was thinking, they could be here as early as tomorrow, and naturally they will stay with us. That means we won't be able to… you know, for a few days," she sighed in disappointment.

Smiling, Hugh rose and pulled her up with him.

              "If you think having house guests is going to keep me from making love to my wife, you'd better think again," he promised with a gleam in his eye. "However, since you have a spanking coming for being such a little hellion, we probably should take care of it." Sweeping her into his arm he started for the stairs.

"You said pink, right?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes, my love, I know for some reason pink is your new favorite color."

              The West Wind sailed into Puget Sound the next afternoon, docking in Seattle just before dusk. A chill wind blew over the wharf as they disembarked to gloomy skies and misty rain.

              Jonah found a carriage and the threesome made their way to the Payne Hotel where they took two rooms.

              "I'll leave you two ladies to freshen up and return for you in a half hour or so and we'll go down to supper," Jonah said, leaving them at their door.

              Effie slipped the key in the lock and nodded as she opened the door. Closing it behind them she waited until Jonah's footsteps faded away. Her hand reached out and stopped Grace from removing her cloak.

"Wait," she whispered, carefully opening the door and peering down the hall.

"What is it?" Grace asked softly.

"I'm going to try and locate Amelia," Effie replied in a hushed voice. "I know you're married to Mr. Blackthorn now, and that's all well and good, but I didn't come three thousand miles to sit around and wait for a man. If you don't want to come, I'll understand, but I need to at least make a start in finding her." Going to her valise, she took out her large pistol and shoved it in the pocket of her cloak.

"No, of course I'll come," Grace said, taking Effie's hand.

              Quietly, they moved into the hallway and locked the door behind them. Thankfully the same carriage they'd arrived in was still sitting out front.

"Are you available?" Effie asked, looking over her shoulder nervously.

"Certainly, Miss," the driver answered, beginning to climb down.

              "That's not necessary," Effie insisted, nearly shoving Grace into the interior of the carriage. "We need to leave immediately. Stop out of sight of the hotel and I'll tell you where we're going."

              "Anything you say, Miss." As soon as the door closed, he was off at a good clip. Five minutes later, he pulled the horse to a stop and climbed down, approaching the window.

"Where to now?"

"Do you know the Jordons?" Effie asked.

"Everybody knows the Jordons, Miss."

"Good, take us there."

"Which one, Miss?"

"Mr. Hugh Jordon's house, if you please."

"Lordy, you're not more of them brides, are you?" the older man asked with wide eyes.

"Why would you think that?" Effie asked suspiciously.

              "Well, I hear tell Mr. Hugh's house is plumb filled to bursting with mail order brides come to Seattle to find husbands. I don't rightly know if they can accommodate any more young women," he replied, scratching his head.

              "Then take us to one of the other Jordon homes," she said crisply.  "We have business with the Jordons."

              "I expect I better take you to the main house then. That's where Mr. and Mrs. Jordon live and they'll be able to help you." Walking back to the front of the carriage, he climbed up and they were soon on their way.

              It was quiet in the carriage, neither Effie nor Grace wanting to discuss what would happen if they didn't find Amelia. Before the carriage could pull up the drive, Effie rapped on the ceiling.

"Stop here," she called out.

"Why aren't we going up to the house?" Grace asked as they stepped out.

              "I think it's better if we look the place over before announcing our arrival," Effie replied, handing up some bills to the driver.

"Do you want me to wait?" he asked, looking at them strangely.

"That won't be necessary, we're expected."

              "If you say so, Miss, but it's a long walk back to the hotel if you're not welcome," he warned.

              "I've known Mrs. Jordon for years. I'm sure our presence won't be a problem. Kindly return to town and if anyone asks, you haven't seen us."

A snort was his only response as he clicked the reins and disappeared into the night.

"I really don't know why we can't just knock on the door and ask after Amelia?" Grace said a bit snippily as she struggled up the muddy drive.

              "Because we don't know what we're walking into," Effie hissed as she fought to get her own shoe out of the mud.  "Just because they're wealthy and live in a nice house, doesn't mean they're good people. I would have thought your experience with Horace would have taught you that."

              "You're right, as usual, Effie," Grace sighed, grabbing the branch of a nearby bush to pull herself forward. "They could even be keeping her prisoner for all we know."

"Exactly, now you're thinking.  Can you make it to that group of bushes by the porch?"

"I think so," Grace replied with a groan. "I may be barefoot by the time I get there though. Lord, I've never seen mud like this in all my days."

              "Just keep moving forward and try not to fall. I might not be able to get you out of it if it's more than your feet that are stuck."

              It seemed like a very long time before they were huddled together in the bushes beside the porch, trying to catch their breath.

"What now?" Grace panted.

"I think we should get a good look in the windows and see how many people are in there and what they're doing. If it comes to a fight to get Amelia back, we may be pitifully outnumbered."

              "We could have asked Jonah to accompany us," Grace offered, wiping the sweat from her brow.

              "We could have, but I have the feeling your Jonah is an 'until death do us part' kind of man. I doubt he'd want to be involved in helping a bride escape from her husband, even if he is a blackguard."

              "You're probably right, Effie. I hadn't thought of that. Men do tend to stick together regarding such things. I hope I live to see the day women are not regarded as chattel, the property of their husbands. Even if I don't see it until my children's lifetime, I will continue to fight for the rights of…"

              "Grace, please, lower your voice. This is not the time to climb on your soapbox," Effie pleaded quietly. "I agree with you wholeheartedly, but let's discuss it later."

"Sorry, you know I get carried away," Grace apologized. "What do we do now?"

              "Let's make our way around the house and check out where the entrances are. That way we'll know if there's a back door they can sneak her out of."

"Good idea."

Twenty minutes later, they'd located three exits, one in the front, one in the back and a set of doors that opened off what appeared to be a study. Each time they came to a window, Grace tried to boost Effie high enough to look in.

              "I can't hold you much longer," Grace squealed. "I'm covered with mud and it's slippery."

"Just another minute," Effie cried softly. "I can see three people and… oomph."

"Sorry," Grace said, sitting on the wet lawn with Effie sprawled a top her.

              "It's all right; I think there are only the three of them and possibly a maid. The woman is tiny and she should be no trouble at all. One of the men is older, but the other looks young and quite large," Effie whispered, wiping the mud off her face with more mud.

"What should we do?"

              "I don't know, but I'm afraid the younger one may have seen me. He was reading the paper and just before we fell, he looked right at me and stood up. We need to get ready. Come on," she hissed, staggering to her feet and extending a hand to Grace.

              As soon as she got Grace on her feet, she pulled her back toward the front of the house. Taking up a position about ten feet from the bottom of the stairs she reached into her pocket and pulled out her gun.

"Throw a rock at the door, Grace," she instructed, spreading her legs for a better stance.

"What rock? I can't see a thing," Grace snapped. "If there were any rocks in this god forsaken place, maybe it wouldn't be a mud hole."

              "Well find something. I want surprise on our side," Effie snapped as she tried to keep her hands steady. "Damn, we should have eaten before we came out here. I didn't expect it take so much strength just to case the place."

              "You've been reading those detective novels again, haven't you?" Grace sighed. "I'm going to have to throw my shoe; I can't find a rock in this muck to save my life."

              "Just make it good, I want to be sure they hear us," Effie whispered as she watched her friend lose her balance and plop to the ground. "For heaven's sake, Grace. You don't look very threatening from there."

              Grace struggled to her feet with a snarl, and for a moment, Effie wondered if she was going to throw the shoe at her.

              "Sorry," Effie said, noting the fire in Grace's eyes. "Now listen, as soon as you hit the door with your shoe hold your hands out like mine as though you have a gun."

"I don't have a gun, Effie," Grace ground out between clenched teeth.

"I know that, but they don't. It's dark. We need to present a united front."

"Do you hear a carriage?" Grace asked, looking over her shoulder and listening intently.

              "No, all I can hear is the pounding of my heart," Effie snapped. "Throw the damn shoe, Grace," she yelled in frustration.

              "Fine," Grace yelled back, whipping the shoe through the air so hard she nearly fell on her face. The crack when it hit the door seemed deafening.

They waited in silence. Each second an eternity.

Effie felt her arms quivering.

"It is a carriage," Grace whispered just before the wide front door opened and a man moved out onto the porch.

              His silhouette seemed massive with the lights of the house behind him. Effie couldn't see his face or distinguish any of his features, but she was sure it was the younger man. He didn't say a word, just stood there with his hands on his hips.

"We've come for Amelia," Effie shouted, cursing her quavering voice.

"I see," he drawled. "And who is we?"

"Miss Euphemia Lane and Miss Grace Wentworth."

"Actually, I am Mrs. Blackthorn," Grace called out.

"Do you really think that's important at this moment?" Effie asked with a groan.

"Well, I suppose not, but I want to be accurate.

Effie rolled her eyes.

"Any relation to Jonah Blackthorn?" the shadow man asked.

"Why yes," Grace replied politely. "He's my husband."

"I happen to know Jonah very well."

"How nice, we've only been married a short time so I…"

              "Grace!  Could we leave the social pleasantries for another time," Effie snapped. "Just give us Amelia and we'll be on our way," Effie ordered, keeping her eyes on the big man. "I'd advise you to hurry along as my arms are getting tired and I'd hate to shoot you unnecessarily if you're planning to cooperate."

              "And my advice to you, young woman, is to put that gun down before you hurt someone," he said icily.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, not until we have our friend. Listen to me, mister. I've come thousands of miles; I'm tired, hungry and covered in mud. At the moment, I'm not in the best frame of mind and I'm tempted to shoot you simply because I've had a very bad day. Now let's not make things worse. Send Amelia out and we won't trouble you further."

              When the man started down the stairs with an oath, Effie cocked her pistol and tightened her stance.

"Gracie," a voice boomed from behind them. "What in the name of all that's holy are you doing?"

              Effie saw Grace spin and tried to get out of the way, but her feet were planted deep in the mud. She felt her body falling backward just as the man got within grabbing distance. A shot rang out, she heard glass shatter and a woman's scream, but the most frightening thing by far was the furious face of the man looming over her.

              Reaching out, he removed the gun from her hand and pulled her from the muck as though she were nothing more than a small nuisance. Slipping the pistol in his pocket, he grabbed Grace's wrist and yanked her to her feet from where she'd landed on her bottom.

"Jonah, does this one belong to you?" the man asked gruffly.

"She sure does, although she'll wish she didn't shortly," Jonah replied, taking Grace's arm. "Good to see you, Sam, although it could have been under better circumstances."

"Don't worry about it, Jonah. I've been expecting Miss Lane for a while now. I just didn't expect her to arrive in the dead of night and smelling to high heavens of muck and horse shit."

              "Where is Amelia?" Effie demanded, tugging futilely to get away from the man who'd sent her such a rude letter. "I want to see her right this minute."

              "Amelia is at home with her husband," Sam ground out. "You, however, just shot the hell out of my mother's favorite leaded glass window. If you didn't smell so badly, I'd sit on those steps and spank you into next week, Miss Lane. As it is, I can't bear to touch you in the condition you're in now."