“Should you, or shall I?” Rafe asked.
Brodie slowly set the knife down on the seat and took the ribbon and handkerchief from Rafe. When Brodie looked her way, Lydia cringed at the look on his face.
“Dinna fight me, lass,” he said, then lunged for her.
Lydia kicked and screamed as he came down on top of her. But the man was too large and too strong. He worked the handkerchief into her mouth, tying it behind her head so she was unable to spit it out, and then her wrists were bound together in front of her.
Lydia sat still, trying to calm her breathing so as not to panic or choke on the bit of cloth in her mouth. She was terrified and furious all at once, which had a crippling effect on her. Why couldn’t Brodie tell her apart from Portia, and why wouldn’t he listen to reason? Was he going to hurt her? Would Rafe stand by and let it happen? She forced her spinning thoughts to stop so she could focus on what the men were saying.
“When you left the tavern room, everything started to spin. I didna realize I’d been drugged until I was in the corridor and four men attacked me,” Brodie said.
“Yes, I saw them carry you outside into a coach,” Rafe interjected. “I thought at first that you were simply being ejected for starting a fight. Once I realized that wasn’t what was going on, I followed at a distance.”
“I wasna awake the entire time. I slipped in and out. It was the bloody laudanum. I woke to find the lass’s father in the room, explaining how I would have to marry her. To do the right thing. Then I drifted off again and woke to find her kissing me and boasting of how she’d please me as a wife.” Brodie shot Lydia a glare of purest loathing. “Then she offered me water, and when I drank, I tasted more laudanum.”
“Bloody hell.” Rafe shot a fiery look at Lydia. “You are a heartless wench.” He focused back on Brodie. “So what is your plan for her? I shall have your back, regardless.”
“Thank you.” Brodie seemed to relax a bit as he settled back in his seat. “I want this lass to feel as used as I have. Oh, she will get what she wished—me in her bed. But she’ll not have the courtesy of the title wife.”
“That’s a rather bold move, Kincade,” Rafe murmured.
“You still have my back?”
“No. I do not hold with rape, and I sincerely doubt she would willingly go to your bed now.”
“You underestimate me,” Brodie replied quietly.
“Do I, now? You believe you can convince her to join you in bed, without coercion? That’s a rather bold claim. Care to wager on it?”
Brodie’s eyes glinted. “Why? You’d only lose.”
“We’ll see.”
Damn Portia and her blasted schemes, Lydia thought. She was going to be ruined. Her already slim chances of a respectable marriage were to be dashed on the rocks of Brodie Kincade’s rage.
“I suppose that means we are leaving Bath?” Rafe asked the same way one might discuss the weather.
“Yes.”
“And our destination?”
“Edinburgh. I canna take her to Kincade lands—my brothers would disapprove.”
Rafe snorted. “Naturally.”
Lydia made a sound of pleading and tried to lift her hands, but after a sharp look from the men, she fell silent again.
“Life really is more interesting with you Scots. No wonder Ash married your sister. The lure of scandal and adventure with you lot is irresistible. Very well, I shall come with you and help where I can. If this wench is as dangerous as you say, you’ll need another set of eyes watching her.”
“Thank you. I welcome your company, then.” Brodie rubbed wearily at his eyes. “I canna stay awake. The laudanum keeps trying to pull me down.”
“Not to worry. I’ll handle everything. Rest.”
Brodie closed his eyes, and Lydia relaxed for a brief moment, until she noticed that Rafe was watching her with a frightening intensity.
“It seems someone has swung a very large stick at a very angry Scottish bear,” Rafe said.
Lydia knew pleading would not help. She was at the mercy of two dangerous men who thought she was her scheming younger sister.
What a bloody rotten mess.
Brodie was trapped—cornered in the hallway as his father bore down on him in a rage.
“You think your mother would have cared about you?” Montgomery Kincade snarled. “You spineless brat!”
Brodie covered his head with his hands, waiting for the blows to rain down on him.
“Or perhaps I’ll give your sister the thrashing you are too cowardly to take,” his father taunted. This drew Brodie up from his crouched position.
“Do not harm her!” he shouted at his father.
“You can’t stop me!” Montgomery turned toward Rosalind’s bedchamber. Brodie rushed him, leaping onto the older man’s back. The man howled in rage and swung around, throwing Brodie into the stone wall of the corridor like a rag doll.
Brodie woke with a start, his hands balled into fists as he instinctively prepared for an attack, but his father was not there. He wasn’t a child anymore. He was a grown man in a crowded coach, which had just stopped moving.
It took him a moment to orient himself, and he was relieved to see Rafe. For a moment he was puzzled by the sight of the pretty lass bound and gagged sitting across from him, her eyes full of fear yet defiant. That was when the night’s awful events came back to him.
“Ah, good, you’re awake,” Rafe said.
“Where are we?” Brodie asked.
“My townhouse. We still need to prepare before we head off. You’ll be able to carry the kitten inside?”
“Aye.” Brodie still felt weak, but not nearly so much as he had before.
“Good. Carry her inside if you must. I’ll tell Mr. Chase to have a bedchamber prepared.”
“No need. She’ll share mine.”
Rafe’s lips twitched. “Remember our wager, Brodie.”
“Aye. I have no intention of bedding her. I also have no intention of letting her out of my sight.”
“Very well. I recommend you sleep off the laudanum before you woo her. We’ll leave at first light.”
Brodie reached for her hand. “Come without a fight and I willna carry you. If I must carry you, I willna be gentle about it.”
The girl nodded in agreement, so he let her stand as he exited the coach first. When she started to step out, he grasped her waist and lifted her down. She was lovely, but not quite the same as he remembered from the previous night. Of course, the first time they’d met he’d been deep in his cups, and the second he’d been out of his mind on laudanum.
She was a pleasant enough weight and felt bloody good in his arms, which only blackened his mood. He did not want to enjoy holding or touching her. Yet having the manipulative lass under his control seemed to have heightened his arousal. He had never been one for controlling women in sensual situations, but the thought of this woman under his control made his body burn with hunger. Or perhaps it was more a matter of satisfaction. He gripped her bound wrists and led her up to Rafe’s townhouse.
“My good man,” Rafe said to the driver. “A hundred pounds for your silence on where you took us this night. If asked, tell your master that we headed to the docks.”