Fascinated by Marissa Day

kicked uselessly a few times, and her fists pummeled his back, but now that she was disarmed, she could not muster a solid blow. When they reached the guest room door, he set her firmly down on the other side of the threshold. She tilted her chin up defiantly as he slammed the door shut. This time, he locked it.
    Still swearing, he retrieved the rumpled pelisse and bonnet she’d thrown at him and started down the stairs. Lynne and Rathehad evidently sensed something was amiss, because by the time he reached the foyer, they were both there to meet him.
    Carstairs handed Alicia’s garments to Lynne. “Take my coat and hat as well, and make it good.”
    “By tomorrow, there’ll be a half dozen carriage houses where the landlord will swear you and Miss Hartwell are on your way to the Scottish border,” Lynne assured him. He rolled the lady’s garments quickly into an anonymous bundle and tucked them under his arm as he strolled out the door.
    Carstairs faced Rathe. “You can tell our captain things are proceeding according to plan.”
    “I’ll tell him things are proceeding,” replied Rathe. “Are you sure you don’t want help?”
    “Alicia doesn’t deserve any more humiliation than she’s already had, and there are some things I—we—may do that…you don’t need to witness.”
    Although this plainly left Rathe unhappy, the Sorcerer nodded a curt farewell and took his leave. Carstairs looked up the stairs, all the way up to the second floor where its open corridor curved around his vaulted foyer. He could see the guest suite door from where he stood. Alicia waited on the other side, angry, frightened and trapped, but this time he was the one holding the key.
    That was not as nearly as enticing a realization now as it had been before she’d stabbed him.
    Damn.
    Carstairs climbed the stairs, steeling himself to confront his abducted fiancée.

Seven

    S he could have run faster. She could have tried harder. She was certain of it.
    Then why didn’t I?
Alicia ran both hands over her thoroughly disordered hair. Her mind was entirely in an uproar. She wanted to fly home to safety and normality, even if it meant having to endure the worst scolding Aunt Hester had to deliver. But part of her wanted to stay in this room; to be right here when Edward came through that door.
    Ridiculous.
Lord Carstairs had proved himself to be nothing but a callous brute. How could she possibly want to remain with him?
    Alicia surveyed the room, trying to formulate a fresh plan of escape. Under other circumstances, she would have found the apartment pleasant enough. More pleasant, certainly, than her own narrow chamber in Hartwell House. The walls were an attractive summer yellow with white trim. There was a fireplace that had comfortable chairs placed before it. There was also awriting desk and roomy wardrobe. The four-poster bed had a snow-white canopy and counterpane. It looked very comfortable. Just gazing at it, Alicia felt acutely how tired she was. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest. But she couldn’t, because Edward was going to come through that door. What would he think she was about if he discovered her in the bed?
    She would find a way out of this. She clutched her brooch. She was calmer when she touched it, and yet at the same time it reminded her that Edward didn’t like it. They had quarreled about it. She remembered that much, but the details of what they’d said floated away like dandelion seeds on the wind. Her head ached. Her breath was suddenly coming short. Alicia lurched to one of the chairs in front of the fire and sat down heavily.
    I must think,
she instructed herself.
I must plan.
    But before she could find a way to begin, Alicia heard the metallic clacking of a key turning in a lock. The door opened, and Alicia had to scramble to her feet.
    Edward had switched his stiff morning coat to an older one of plain blue cloth and exchanged his Hessian boots for more comfortable shoes and stockings.