Kidnapped

Brielle didn’t generally think of herself as being a particularly fussy person. But her wrists and ankles hurt from the ropes and she felt incredibly vulnerable being on her knees in a nightgown in front of a bunch of strangers. She glared up at the man who was staring down at her and Jack like they were bugs who’d scuttled across his shoe. He curled his lip at her but she stared right back at him, refusing to look away.

“Something you’d like to say, m’lady?” he asked sarcastically.

“Ugly say what,” Brielle retorted.

“What?” He frowned slightly, then scowled darkly. Brielle smiled sweetly back at him.

“So, the little wench has a bit of spunk. I never much cared for girls with spunk.”

“Shocker. I’m guessing you’re threatened by any man who’s taller than you and have some severe mommy issues too, right?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a big mouth?”

“Yes.”

“It’s fortunate for you that it’s in my best interest to keep you both alive. For now. But that could change.”

“I don’t even know who you are,” Brielle said. “And what do you want with us?”

“Duke Montesse knows who I am. In fact he has been a thorn in my side-“

Brielle coughed loudly, interrupting him. He glared at her before continuing.

“He’s been a thorn in my side for far too long, and-“

Brielle coughed again.

“What better way to put him in his place than by-“

More coughing. The man scowled at her.

“Than by kidnapping his heir and his pretty new bride?” he finished irritably. “But maybe he’ll be relieved we took you, since you’re an obnoxious brat.”

“You left us locked in a cold carriage for four days, it’s your fault if I’m getting sick,” Brielle replied, pouting. “You should want to take better care of your investments, Mr…I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

He just gave her a cold look and she shrugged.

“Fine, I’ll just call you Ugly McStinkeye then if you want to be all mysterious about it.”

Mr. McStinkeye continued to glower at her, then cut a brief glance at Jack. Brielle turned her head slightly and noticed that Jack was stiff and a bit pale next to her. She hoped he wasn’t hurt.

“I guess we’ve scared the Duke speechless,” McStinkeye said, smirking.

“My husband is a man of few words,” Brielle said, annoyed. “You still haven’t told us why we’re here. What do you want with us?”

“Take them downstairs and make sure they don’t cause any problems,” McStinkeye said to one of the men, ignoring her. They’d had to untie hers and Jack’s ankles so they could walk into this shady building, and Brielle managed to get to her feet even though her wrists were still bound. Jack made a quiet sound of protest, but Brielle didn’t take kindly to being kidnapped or ignored.

“Hey,” she snapped. “Why did you bring us here?”

McStinkeye suddenly rounded on her, and she had to tilt her head back to look at his face.

“You are here because Duke Montesse will do whatever I ask in order to ensure the safe return of his heir and fancy daughter in law. Beyond that, you don’t need to know anything of my plans, Mrs. Montesse. And I would strongly suggest that you shut your mouth and stop getting on my nerves.”

“Leave her alone,” Jack said from the floor.

“Oh, he finally speaks. What are you idiots waiting for? Didn’t I say to take them downstairs?”

A couple of the gathered men snapped to attention and hurried over to drag Jack up onto his feet and march him and Brielle down a flight of stairs into a dark room. They were shoved in roughly and then the door was slammed and locked from the outside. Brielle huffed and then looked over at Jack. He was leaning against the wall, still looking a little pale.

“Are you okay?” Brielle walked closer to him, scanning him for injury. “Are you hurt?”

“No. No, I’m okay.” Jack let out a breath. “Sorry.”

Brielle sensed something was wrong but decided to let it go for now.

“If we stand back to back, maybe we can try to undo each other’s ropes,” she suggested. “My wrists are killing me.”

He nodded. It took a long time and a lot of patience but they finally managed to get the ropes off. Brielle sighed in relief as the ropes fell away, rubbing her wrists. They were rubbed raw and a little bloody. She lifted Jack’s hands to inspect his wrists. The damage seemed about the same as hers. She tore a few strips of fabric off the ends of her robe, wiping the blood away as best she could and tying the fabric around each of their wrists.

“Thanks,” Jack said quietly.

“We need to get out of here,” Brielle sighed. “Eventually meathead up there is going to realize he got the wrong people, and I get the sense he doesn’t like being disappointed.”