No harm done. Not to her body, if she believed them. But her heart—oh, her heart was irreparably damaged. Shame seared a hot trail through her as she realized how easily she had fallen into James Finnegan’s trap. He’d never loved her. He’d never cared about her. He had only ever wanted her money. And to think she’d invited him to her bed the night before. She’d wanted him to be her first lover, so now he’d stolen that from her too.
The coach slowed and stopped, and the other man grabbed her arms and began to shove her out the door of the carriage.
“Leave her. I’ll do it,” James said.
“No!” Phil shot back. “Don’t ever touch me again.” Someone threw a coat or blanket over her head, and everything went dark. She stumbled down the carriage steps, but then James—she would know his touch anywhere—took hold of her. His grip was much gentler but still firm as he guided her into a building and down a flight of stairs into what must have been a cellar. It was damp and cold, and she wanted to turn and grab onto James. She wanted to beg him not to leave her there alone.
But she still had some pride. She straightened her shoulders and when he lowered her to the floor, she pulled her knees close to her chest. James removed the blanket from her head and draped it over her. It was a horse blanket, but she didn’t object. She didn’t know how long she would be down here, and her muslin dress would not keep her very warm.
A lantern hung on a peg near the stairs, its weak light illuminating the cellar. They must have taken her to an abandoned shop. The cellar was littered with broken crates, tables, moldy fabric that might have been curtains for the shop window at one point, and a few old hats. Had this been a haberdashery? Where was she? She could hear the clatter of horse hooves outside, but they were distant. She doubted anyone would hear if she yelled—not until things quieted at night.
James crouched before her. “Listen, Phil.”
“I am Lady Philomena to you, scoundrel.”
He closed his eyes briefly as though in pain. “Me lady, I’ll be back as quick as I can. Ye won’t be down here long.”
She glared at him. “I don’t care if I ever see you again.” That was a lie. She wanted very much for him to come back. She had begun to tremble as soon as he mentioned leaving her alone here. She tried to still her body, not wanting him to see her weakness.
“Phil—me lady—if ye’ll just let me explain.”
“What’s to explain? You and those two men planned to abduct me and collect the ransom. You applied at Southmeade as a footman in order to find out my routines and habits. You seduced me in order to gain my trust—"
“No!” His voice was harsh. “That was never part of it.”
She gave him a dubious look. “So you never lied to me?”
“I lied about my work experience to get the position, but I never lied about how I felt about ye. I didn’t want to feel what I felt after I met ye. I tried to call off the plan, but I couldn’t convince the others. I care about ye. I have since I first laid eyes on ye. Ye have to believe me.”
“I don’t believe a word that comes from your lips. I hope you and your friends are found quickly and all hung by the end of the week.”
He reared back almost as though she’d hit him.
She didn’t care. Let him feel the sting of betrayal. “I won’t even shed a tear. That’s how much I hate you.”
He rose slowly and took a step back. “I suppose I deserve that.”
“Oh, you’d best not ask me what I think you deserve, you liar.”
“Regardless, I’ll be back for ye. I won’t leave ye down here.”
She twisted away from him. “And I’m supposed to believe you? For all I know, you three will slit my throat and throw me in the Thames at nightfall.”
“No harm will come to ye, me lady.”
She gave him a look of disgust and turned away, clutching the old blanket close.
Eight
Reluctantly, James lifted the lantern from the hook and carried it up the cellar stairs. He didn’t like leaving Phil in the dark, but he couldn’t trust her with the lantern unless he bound her, and he wouldn’t do that.
At the top of the stairs, he opened the door then closed it again and turned the key in the lock. The back room of the old hat shop in Covent Garden was dusty and dark. At a wobbly table, Patrick and Sean sat waiting for him.
“Sounds like the lady is none too pleased with ye,” Sean said. “Ye didn’t tell us ye seduced her.”
James didn’t speak. He merely folded his arms and glared at the two of them. “Why didn’t ye let me know yer plans? What sort of fools are ye, abducting her on the street?”
“Ye should have told us she would be at a card party last night,” Patrick shot back. “But maybe that detail slipped yer mind. Or maybe ye never planned to help us with this scheme at all. Maybe ye thought to run away with her and keep all the blunt for yerself.”
“That’s a fine opinion to have of me, so it is.”
Patrick crossed his arms and leaned back in the rickety chair. “Then why didn’t ye tell us about the outing last night? Come to think of it, why did ye never tell us about any of the lady’s outings?”
“Ye left me at the big house for months while ye went off pursuing other schemes. How could I tell ye?”
Patrick looked at Sean. “Ye know what I think?”
Sean nodded. “I’m thinking the same thing.”
“What’s that?” James asked.
“Yer a liability.” Sean rose.
“What?”
“Ye heard him,” Patrick said. “It’s a big fancy word, so yer sure to cozy up to it. And all this time we thought ye were on our side.”
“I am on yer side. I just don’t want to involve the lady.”
“Then ye have another plan to get blunt? Our families are getting thinner by the day, and sailing to America doesn’t come cheap.”
“I don’t have a plan yet, but if we sit down and talk awhile, we can come up with one. Let’s return the lady first.”
“Return the lady?” Patrick shook his head. “There’ll be no returning the lady. Not until her ma pays the ransom in the note we sent.”
James felt all the color drain from his face and an icy cold freeze his cheeks. “You sent the ransom note already? Are ye an idiot? We’re done for now.”
“Ye have that right. Ye are done for.” Patrick nodded, and James realized too late he’d not been keeping his eye on Sean. He looked around, but he was too slow. The heavy piece of wood slammed down on the back of his head, and he toppled to the floor, the world dimming to a dull gray around him.
One of them pulled the chair away from him and gave him a swift kick in the belly. James figured it was Patrick. He’d always been the crueler of the two. James grunted, but didn’t try to get up. His head felt as though a horse had sat on it. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
“What do we do with him now?” Sean asked, his voice sounding as though it came from the end of a long tunnel.
“Put him in the coach. As soon as it’s dark, drive him out of Town and dump him on the side of the road. If he survives and he’s found, he’ll be thrown in Newgate.”