The shadow was gone from the doorway now, and he prayed that his former betrothed was still awake while the minister slept on. It would make his abscondment much easier.
He crept over to the final side window, standing on his toes in order to see in. The room was fairly sparsely furnished, but there, in the corner, sitting on some kind of sofa was a woman bent over what he would guess to be a book. Long, straight, dark hair, shining in the light of the embers in the grate, floated down her back, telling Duncan all he needed to know. Here was the woman he had been engaged to, who he was supposed to marry not long after Hogmanay.
Now he would have to find another bride, and he wasn’t entirely thrilled about the prospect.
He crept around to the back door, pleased to find that the knob turned in his hand. The London minister should know better than that, he thought with a shake of his head. This was one of the reasons that he couldn’t leave her here with him — these Englishmen obviously had no idea how to properly care for their women. Even though she and Duncan would never now marry, at least she would be well protected by whatever Scot her father could entice to marry her after her scandalous escape.
Duncan shook his head at the silly whim of a young woman unsure of what she wanted in life.
But that would no longer be his problem. She was her father’s to worry about once more.
The back entrance opened into a small storage area, through which he found himself in a clean kitchen. The door off the kitchen opened up into a dining room that he had seen was one of the house’s front rooms, and beside it would be the drawing room where he had spotted the woman.
He eased open the door, finding the room to actually be rather inviting. He took careful steps into the living space. If she had come to London willingly — and, if he was being honest, he didn’t think the friendly vicar likely forced her — then chances were, she was not going to come back to the Highlands quietly. He leaned to the side in order to peer around the corner for a better glimpse of her, nearly bellowing out in surprise when a fat orange tomcat peered out at him instead.
Seemingly uncaring at his presence, the cat continued on, while Duncan looked in to see if the woman was sitting there. She was. He didn’t want this to resort to any violence, but nor did he want to stand out here all evening and risk an encounter with the minister. Best to get this over with as quickly and as quietly as possible.
In a few long, silent strides, he was across the room and behind her. Just as she picked her head up, he wrapped an arm around her waist and placed his hand over her mouth so that she couldn’t call out, although he made sure she could breathe. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“I’ll not hurt you. Come with me willingly. I’m here to help.”
She stiffened in his arms, but nodded haltingly, and he leaned over, blew out her candle, and then lifted her and steered her through the darkness of the room and back the way he had come. As soon as they were outside the door and he had kicked it shut, he wrapped her up in the plaid she had been wearing over her legs and threw her up over his shoulder.
As soon as her mouth was free, she surprisingly stayed silent. Perhaps she was smart enough to realize that the night was cold and there was no one on the street — except Niall and Keith.
“You stole her?”
Duncan threw Keith a dark look as they left their hiding spot to meet him in the middle of the street, but didn’t answer his question. He should understand the way of it.
They rounded the corner to where they had left the hack they had hired, and Duncan tossed her on the seat before Niall and Keith crawled in after him.
The girl stuck her head out the window.
“Excuse me, sir, but I—”
Duncan had his hand back over her mouth before she could call the hackney cabby’s attention toward her.
“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he muttered in her ear from between gritted teeth and she squirmed from where he held her against his side on the seat. “We’ll speak more when we arrive. It isn’t far,” he continued, and mercifully she settled into peaceful silence.
Somehow, he had a feeling it wasn’t going to last long.
Chapter 2
Jane had never really considered the idea of being kidnapped. After all, who would ever want to take her? She was no stunning beauty. Her father was respectable, but he was no one who would wield any particular power.
Had she thought of it prior to it actually happening, however, she would have hoped that in such an event she would maintain a sense of calm and practicality that would see her through the ordeal.
As it happened, she was rather proud of her ability to contain her emotions throughout her current situation.
But then, she was also very much aware of her captor’s identity.
The moment he had leaned down and whispered in her ear to stay put, she had known by that deep, husky, unmistakeable voice exactly who he was.
Duncan McDougall.
Everyone who lived in her part of the world knew of the son of the McDougall chieftain. He was, physically, one of the largest men she had ever seen. But even more than that, he was a mountain of a man in every sense she could imagine. Gruff, intimidating, unbending, just like his father. Mary had hated the thought of marrying Duncan from the start, while Jane had met him only a handful of times.
There was the chance he felt wronged after her sister had broken their betrothal and run away with Billy Miller, but Jane would never have thought he would go to such lengths to retaliate against their family. Besides, her father had been as irate as anyone over what had happened. So why take her and how had he even known she was in London?
Well, she would ask him, just as soon as he “allowed” her to speak. It was all quite annoying. She had been rather comfortable in the sitting room chair, reading her book, and this little foray to wherever he thought he was taking her was all quite inconvenient. She only hoped that her sister wouldn’t wake up and worry about where she had gone.
The vehicle came to a jolting halt, and Jane was thrown forward, until strong hands wrapped around her arms and held her up.
“If I lead you, will you walk?”
She nodded curtly, taking the bastard’s hand as he led her down the steps of the hack and onto the hard ground below. It was freezing, and she wondered if it was going to snow.
Which was quite a silly thing to be thinking at this point in time.
“Up we go,” he said as they came to what seemed to be stairs — rather rickety ones at that. They swayed underneath their weight as they ascended, and Jane looked behind her at the other two figures who accompanied them, but she couldn’t make them out in the darkness.
When they entered the building, the wind ceased, although it was still not particularly warm.
“Stoke the fire, will you?” Duncan asked his companions as he led her to sit on a piece of furniture that was quite soft, if nothing else.
Jane turned her head to take in the room around her. It wasn’t much — there was a round wooden table with a few mismatched chairs surrounding it, the sofa she was currently sitting on that had seen better days, and a plain fireplace with a few embers still burning within that the third man was currently stoking.
When her gaze came to rest on Duncan, he finally took a good look at her, and his crystal blue eyes went wide as he froze, one hand in his far too long unruly brown hair.