The Mysterious Lord Marlowe. Anne Herries

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The Mysterious Lord Marlowe - Anne Herries Mills & Boon Historical

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down on a small table near the bed. Jane decided he was not an ill-looking man. His features were regular and he had what she might have thought, in other circumstances, an attractive mouth. His hair was a rich brown, his eyes almost black with a hint of silver in the pupils. She was wary, but somehow not frightened.

      ‘I thought you were faking it earlier,’ he said and a rueful smile lingered on his mouth. ‘You needn’t be afraid I shall give you away. Nor shall I harm you. I am very sorry for the way you have been treated.’

      It was the man with the cultured voice. He was wearing clothes that were not suited to his station—part of a disguise, she imagined. Yet she was certain that he was a gentleman. She relaxed and moved closer to him.

      ‘I heard you mention someone called Blake. Is he the man with the odd-coloured eyes?’

      He frowned. ‘For your own sake, do not let anyone else hear you say that. It would be best not to let the others know that you heard us talking.’

      ‘Who are you?’ Jane asked. ‘Why were you abducting Mariah? Is she here, too?’

      ‘No, she was taken elsewhere. Do not ask more for I could not tell you. It is a complicated story and not one I am proud of. The pity is that you became involved. You should have stayed in the carriage rather than risking yourself,’ the man said. ‘I deeply regret that you were taken, Miss—?’

      Jane’s thoughts moved swiftly. She thought he was telling the truth when he said Mariah was elsewhere. She must have been brought here because the abductors did not know what to do with her.

      ‘It is Jane—Jane Blair.’

      Jane gave no sign of her inner trepidation as she offered her mother’s maiden name. For the moment she would keep her true identity a secret.

      ‘Well, Jane, I am sorry for helping those rogues with what has turned out to be a bad business. I am not sure what I can do for the moment. There are three others in the house besides myself and all are armed—but nothing more will happen to you if I can help it. You have my word that I shall protect you from Blake and his lackeys somehow.’

      ‘You said it would be best to fetch the doctor,’ Jane said. ‘Your friend said Blake would decide what to do—why do you serve him if he is such a monster? You appear to be a gentleman. Are you in trouble that you would stoop to such a wicked act?’

      ‘It isn’t what you think.’ A dark colour stained his neck. ‘These men are not my friends. Nor am I involved in this wretched affair for money—but I shan’t tell you why, so don’t ask.’

      ‘What is your name?’

      He hesitated, then, ‘I’m called George by my friends.’

      Jane was sure he was hiding something from her, but she should have expected it. He was hardly likely to tell her his life history under the circumstances.

      ‘Are you intending to let me go?’

      ‘I wish I could. Perhaps later.’ George, as he called himself, looked uncomfortable. ‘Most of the men have started to drink. Eat something and I’ll see what I can do once they are off guard. If I tried to take you out of here by force, you might be killed. I might manage two of them, but three is too many. This needs careful planning.’

      Jane glanced at the food. She was hungry, but more than that she was thirsty. However, she had no intention of touching anything this man had given her. He might be trying to poison her.

      ‘There’s nothing wrong with it,’ he said. He took a piece of the bread, spread it with butter and ate it, then drank some wine. ‘You won’t die from eating this, Jane Blair.’

      ‘Thank you. I might eat some later.’ She moved towards him, making an appeal to his sense of fair play. ‘If this Mr Blake is what you seem to imply, he will kill me, won’t he? Do you want to hang for murder as well as abduction?’

      ‘I don’t want you to die.’ He couldn’t meet her eye. ‘If we’re caught, we’ll hang anyway. I was told the other girl was willing. It was supposed to be an elopement made to look like abduction because the girl’s guardian wouldn’t let her marry—but she was certainly not willing. I wasn’t sure what was going on until Blake told them to take you, too. Obviously, I’ve been tricked into this sorry business. I was a damned fool to go along with it, but there were too many of them for me to stop it happening.’

      Jane seized her opportunity. ‘If you help me, we might be able to find her—and I wouldn’t tell anyone you helped abduct us. You could be a hero and no one need know the truth.’

      ‘You talk too much, Miss Blair,’ he said and turned towards the door. ‘Eat your food. If anyone else comes, pretend you don’t know anything. I’ll help you if I can. You have my word.’

      ‘The word of a kidnapper?’

      ‘Be careful, Miss Blair. I may be your only chance.’

      His look was angry as he went out.

      Jane sat on the edge of the bed as he locked the door again. Her legs felt like jelly and she was in sudden need of something to eat. After a few minutes to catch her breath, she took a piece of bread and spread it with butter, swallowing a few mouthfuls before washing it down with wine. The wine was a dark red and tasted dry on her tongue. She would have preferred water, but there was none in the room.

      At least the food took away the shaky feeling she’d had in her legs. She wondered if he had told her the truth about there being three other men in the house. He called himself George. It wasn’t his real name, of course, but it was something to fix in her mind. She’d heard him speak to someone else he hadn’t named, and their leader was Blake.

      Jane cautiously tried the window. It opened easily and she wondered why it hadn’t been locked. Did they imagine that she could not escape from here? Perhaps most young women would not dare, but Jane had climbed trees from early childhood. She glanced at the tree, which was sturdy and grew to the right side of the window. She could climb out onto the wide stone window ledge and edge her way along to the tree. It would be a risk because there was still a small gap between the ledge and the nearest branch, but she thought she could probably do it if she tried.

      Seeing two men riding towards the house, Jane closed the window and drew back, keeping watch from behind the curtain. The men dismounted and walked towards the main door, disappearing inside. Her head was throbbing, but she forced herself to think slowly and not panic. She could not dwell on how far up she was or how much her head hurt. Unless she took her chance now, she might die.

      One of the riders was probably Blake. Had he come to tell them what to do with her? No doubt he would want her silenced for good. There was no time to lose. She must take her chance for escape now—or the ruthless Blake would almost certainly murder her and dispose of her body. The other men were wary of him. George had promised to help her, but she could not rely on his word. None of them would risk their own lives for hers.

      Opening the window, Jane cautiously climbed out on to the ledge. At least it was in reasonable repair and felt solid beneath her feet. Her back pressed against the glass, she edged her way along the stone sill and then realised that she was too far from the branch to reach out and grab it. The branch itself was thick and substantial enough to take her weight, but there was a gap of perhaps two feet beyond what she could reach.

      Jane’s heart was racing and her palms were damp.

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