She was feeling sick and giddy, and her eyes could make no sense of her surroundings. Something heavy was round her right ankle, and experimentally she moved her leg. There was a heavy clunking sound, and whatever it was rasped painfully against her ankle bone.
The dark waters of the pond closed over her again, but this time she fought back, dragging herself upward into the light. It was a dim light, but the fog was clearing from her mind despite the continued pounding in her head.
Someone, and it hadn't been Neil Gerard, had hit her on the back of the head. They'd been driving up Ludgate Hill. She'd said that it seemed a strange route to take when they should be crossing Blackfriar's Bridge. Gerard had smiled and said he had something of interest to show her.
Then they'd turned aside into that reeking, gloomy court. And like the dumb fool she was, she still hadn't grasped what was happening. She'd sat there like a gaby a minute too long before going for her pistol, and someone had hit her from behind.
Without much hope she felt in her pocket. No pistol. Sylvester was right, Theo thought disgustedly. She was a naive, impetuous baby who needed all the protection and surveillance a caring and watchful husband could give her. If she ever got out of this situation in one piece, she'd lock herself in her room and give him the key!
Struggling up onto one elbow, she surveyed her surroundings. It was a small room lit only by a grimy skylight. She was lying on a narrow cot, on a straw palliase covered with rough striped ticking. Apart from this there was a table and chair, and a small coal fire burning in the hearth.
There was a chain around her ankle. Her right leg was shackled to the bed. Sitting up properly, Theo stared in disbelief; then she reached down, ignoring the pounding in her head, and lifted the chain. It was heavy, but it seemed long enough to allow her to get off the cot. Carefully, she stood up; her head swam, and cold perspiration broke out on her forehead as a wave of nausea washed over her. She sat down again and waited for the moment to pass.
Then, with renewed effort, she stood up and took a step toward the table in the middle of the room. The chain had sufficient play to enable her to get that far. There was a carafe of water on the table, and she drank thirstily. The cold liquid helped to clear her mind even further, and she continued her investigation of her prison.
She dragged the chain to the door. There were heavy bolts at the top and bottom on the inside – useful should she decide to lock herself in. Again without much hope, she raised the latch. It came up sweetly, and the door swung open onto a narrow passage. Her heart lifted and she stepped forward, only to discover she was at the limit of her chain, and the links bit into her ankle bone.
Theo pulled the door closed again and returned to the bed. Her foot kicked something as she sat down. At least Gerard or his assistant had provided her with a chamber pot. But what did they want with her?
There came the sound of footsteps in the passage outside, and instantly she lay down again, closing her eyes. It might be useful to pretend she was still unconscious, at least until she had a better sense of what was intended.
Gerard came into the room, closing the door behind him. He trod softly to the cot and stood looking down at the white-faced, unconscious figure. He laid a hand on her brow and was relieved to find her skin warm. Dan didn't know his own strength, and Neil had been afraid the blow had been unnecessarily hard. He needed the Countess of Stoneridge alive and well when it came to negotiating with her husband.
He allowed his gaze to roam over the still body. The soft rise and fall of her breasts, the way her skirt clung to her flat belly. The hem was rucked up, showing the curve of her ankle and calf. He bent and pushed it up a little farther, remembering the vibrant sensuality that had so struck him when he'd first laid eyes on her. His hand slid up her silken-clad leg beneath her skirt and petticoat. A madness seemed to have entered him. There was something incredibly exciting about having this immobile, unaware body at his disposal. His fingers insinuated themselves into the leg of her drawers, creeping upward over the warm skin.
And then there was a loud banging at the door. With a muttered curse he jerked his hand away and straightened.
" 'Ow is she?" Dan's huge head appeared around the door. "Awake yet?"
"Not as yet" Gerard moved casually away from the cot "Send that girl of yours to me. To the front room."
"Fancy a bit, do ya?" Dan chuckled and his red eyes leered. "Well, you do good by 'er, an' I've no objections. I'll listen out fer yon missie fer a spell."
Gerard said nothing but drew his arm sharply aside as he passed so that he wouldn't brush against the man. Dan's sneering chuckle followed him as he went to the front room that he'd once occupied, to await the scrawny maidservant he'd used there before to ease his hunger pangs.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Theo opened her eyes, once she was sure she was alone. She was shuddering from head to toe, her skin where he'd touched her crawling as if it were alive with slugs leaving their sticky trail. The sense of violation was so powerful, she wanted to retch. She'd been too shocked and too disoriented to resist, and by the time she'd recovered from her shock, it had stopped. But he wouldn't do it again.
She got up and rinsed out her mouth, then dipped her finger into the water and scrubbed at her flesh where his fingers had been. Her head still ached, but it was an almost irrelevant discomfort now. She had to get out of there.
Had Edward seen what had happened? He'd not have been able to do anything single-handed, but perhaps he'd gone for help. But whether he had or not, she must still help herself.
When Gerard returned, he would find her wide awake and composed, and if he attempted to touch her again, he'd get more than he bargained for.
Presumably, he had the key to the chain somewhere on his person.
Then she knew what she had to do. He wouldn't find her wide awake and composed. He would find her just as he'd left her. With her skirt hiked up, her body defenseless and inviting. And when he approached and bent over her, she'd be ready for him.
Sylvester rode up Ludgate Hill, looking for Hall Court. He saw Edward's curricle first, drawn to the side of the thoroughfare and in the hands of an urchin who stood holding the reins, idly picking his teeth.
Edward was standing in the shadows at the entrance to Hall Court, his eyes fixed to the door through which Theo had been carried.
"Thank God Jonathan found you," he breathed as Sylvester dismounted beside him. "I believe she's still in there. Gerard's phaeton is still there, at least."
"Gerard? What's Theo doing with that sewer rat?"
Edward, looking wretched, said, "She thought he might have the truth about Vimiera."
Sylvester whitened. "You?"
Edward nodded in acute discomfort "I hadn't intended to, sir. It was gossip I heard in the Peninsula, and of course I didn't believe it, but somehow Theo…" He shrugged. "After Lady Belmont's reception she guessed something and, well, she wormed the story out of me. She didn't believe it anymore than I did."
So the secret he'd been so desperately trying to keep had been no secret at all. Fairfax had known all along and never given him the slightest indication. And Theo had known for days, and it hadn't mattered one iota to her. She simply hadn't believed it. He should have known, of course. He just hadn't trusted enough.
A joy of such piercing intensity almost took his breath away; then he said briskly, "So tell me how she got herself into this mess."
He listened to Edward's tale in growing incredulity and then wondered why he was incredulous. It had Theo's mark all over it. She'd asked the right people the right questions and drawn her own correct conclusions, then simply plunged headlong into a situation that he already had well under control.