Abducted by a Prince by Olivia Drake Page A

his cousin to her fate. And what of the earl? If Walt hadn’t done so already, he’d eventually have to tell his father what had happened. Given his reputation as a stickler for propriety, Pennington would very likely consider his niece ruined. He might cut off all association with Miss Stratham lest Lady Beatrice be tainted by the scandal.
    Damien raked his fingers through his hair. What the devil was he to do with her if no one delivered the ransom? He needed time to figure that out. For now, though, maybe she deserved a version of the truth.
    “It’s a key,” he admitted. “It has no value to Walt—but it’s important to me.”
    Miss Stratham gawked at him. The fire snapped in the silence, while a fist of wind knocked at the door. Then she surged to her feet and uttered incredulously, “You abducted me for a key ?”
    “It isn’t just any key. It was given to me as a child.” Damien had no intention of explaining his complicated background, how he had been left as a baby to the care of Mrs. Mims, or that the key was his sole link to the parents he’d never known. No one else could possibly understand this hunger he felt to uncover his past—and not just for himself.
    For Lily.
    Softness pierced the armor of his antipathy. His daughter might only be six, but someday she would ask him about her missing grandparents and he wanted to be able to answer her questions. He was determined to give Lily everything he himself had never had—including a knowledge of her ancestry.
    Not that he would ever admit such a desire aloud, especially to Miss Ellie Stratham. She would only exploit his weakness.
    He added aggressively, “I don’t take well to people stealing what belongs to me.”
    “Yet you’d steal a woman away from her family.”
    “Yes. I’ll do whatever is necessary to force Walt to return the key.”
    Frowning, she thinned her lips, looking remarkably like a strict governess. “What does it fit? A treasure vault? I can’t think of any other reason why he would bother taking an old key.”
    “It was pure malice, that’s why. He knew it was important to me.” Damien took a step closer to her. “You’ve known Walt all your life. You must have some sense that he isn’t the most honorable of gentlemen.”
    Miss Stratham’s eyes widened slightly and a shadowy emotion flitted across her features. Then she snapped, “You’re one to speak. You’re hardly a bastion of honor yourself.”
    Damien barely noticed her jab. He was too busy wondering at the source of that brief distress on her face. An ugly thought struck him. Had Walt made untoward advances toward her? Had the scoundrel tried to force his own cousin? Had he taken advantage of an impoverished woman who was reduced to living on the charity of her relatives?
    Damien told himself it was none of his concern. Her private life had nothing to do with his purpose … unless it could be used to his advantage.
    “I wonder if perhaps you might have seen the key,” he said smoothly. “It’s quite distinctive. One end has three teeth and the other, a brass crown stamped into an iron circle. It’s likely to be in Walt’s chambers at Pennington House.”
    A flush crept up her cheeks. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I assure you, sir, I’ve never set foot in his bedchamber. Let alone snooped through his belongings.”
    Damien didn’t know if her prickly response verified his suspicions, or was simply an expression of her hostility toward him. “Forgive me, I meant no insult. I merely thought you might have gone to his room to speak to him for some reason. If he’d left the key lying about—”
    “If he did, I never saw it. But perhaps you and I could make a bargain. If you’ll take me back to London straightaway, I promise I’ll look for it.”
    The determined glint in her eyes unexpectedly amused him, though he kept his face expressionless. As vexing as she was, he admired her pluck. Most women in her situation would have collapsed