Page 57 of The Designs of Lord Randolph Cavanaugh

She locked her knees and tried to keep her feet from moving, to make every step a battle, yet no matter how she stumbled and staggered, he still succeeded in pushing her on.

“You blackguard!” Her imprecation was all but smothered behind his hand.

Being unable to scream only made her feel more helpless.

In mounting fury, she wrestled, tipping side to side, trying to overbalance him, but he only cursed and tightened his grip about her waist until she could barely breathe.

She desisted, hauled in as deep a breath as she could, and fought to focus her wits. She couldn’t win free of Mayhew by main force. She had to use her brains.

Rand would be coming…if that unplanned explosion hadn’t drawn him back to the house. Nothing had been happening with Mayhew, after all.

She knew Rand would follow as soon as he realized they’d gone, but until he saw they’d vanished…

Her lungs expanded as she drew in a huge breath. If she wanted to escape Mayhew, she would need to save herself.

Think!

She couldn’t believe this was happening—not to her.

A spurt of pure fury seared through her, and, lips and chin setting, she threw herself violently against Mayhew’s hold.

He swore again, this time more ferociously, and halted. In grim silence, he gripped hard, then harder, waiting for her to give up.

Eventually, she did, momentarily slumping.

Ruthlessly, he thrust her onward.

As she staggered before him—still resisting every step of the way—he lowered his head and spoke by her ear. “Stop struggling, you little fool.” His words were clipped, his tone beyond tense. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just need you for leverage to ensure your damned brother doesn’t finish his steam engine and get it to Birmingham. I’m sure once he realizes you’re missing and gets the note I’ll have delivered, he’ll see the sense in doing as he’s told. Once the day of the exhibition rolls around and the Throgmorton engine fails to make an appearance, I’ll let you go.”

She was accustomed to people with one-track minds. “And until then?” She managed to make the words intelligible despite speaking around his palm.

“I’ve rented a cottage—you and I will be safe enough there.”

Safe? All he was worried about was physical safety?

What about my reputation?

She didn’t bother wasting breath wailing the words. He was an artist, right enough. She’d already noted how like inventors the species was, and this only proved it. Their world revolved about themselves, and they never even thought to consider the welfare of anyone else.

Anyone else affected by their plans, by their actions.

A thought struck. She shoved her head back into his shoulder and managed to mumble, “Mrs. Makepeace and the staff—they know who you are.”

Mayhew softly snorted. “They won’t raise any hue and cry—not with your reputation at stake. And they won’t make any fuss later, either. Once you return home, everyone—you included—will consider the incident best buried and never mentioned.”

So he’d thought of her reputation in that regard—as a threat to ensure his subsequent safety.

He didn’t know about Rand. About her and Rand.

If she was locked away with Mayhew for days, when he released her, her reputation would be effectively nonexistent among those who knew. That included Rand. And while she might hope that he would still wish to pursue his “later” with her—she was fairly certain he would trust her word regarding her virginity and, after all, she could prove it—he was a man who had reason to distrust women; this wouldn’t help. And then there was Rand’s brother, the marquess, let alone his sister-in-law! Rand hailed from the upper nobility. If his family ever found out about her sojourn in a cottage with an artist—and she had no faith the incident would remain buried for all time—she would be ostracized.

Even if Rand married her, she would still be looked down on and sneered at, and any children they had…

She couldn’t let that happen—not to her or to him.

She felt her resolve harden, like steel infusing her spine.

There’d been no sound of pursuit. It was up to her to get herself out of this.