Page 80 of Gone with the Rake

But he did notice.

Because every time she moved, he threw a side-eyed glance her way.

What a bastard Thornton was! He was turning into his own father, acting as if only his way was the right way. He didn’t trust her to sort everything out herself.

But didn’t I do the same thing when I tried to run off?

“Oh, shut up,” she muttered under her breath, rubbing her hands against the cloth around them.

The servant by the door threw her another quick glance.

Lydia exhaled. “Excuse me… Mr.— Ah, yes, Vlad? Can I call you Vlad?”

He threw her another glance, then lowered his chin in a tiny nod.

“Vlad, do you mind getting me some tea? I’m truly parched.”

He looked at her suspiciously, but instead of leaving the room as she’d hoped, he stepped a few feet to the right and rang the servants’ bell.

Ah, resourceful little fellow.

Soon, someone knocked on the door, and Vlad turned away for a hushed conversation. Lydia took the opportunity to try and untie the knots around her wrists. Thorn hadn’t tied them too tightly. If she twisted her arms just so, she could—

The door closed, and Lydia quickly sat up straight in bed before Vlad turned toward her again. Her hair was falling into her eyes, and she blew on it to clear her vision.

“Tell me, Vlad,” she asked, leaning forward to create a gap between her hands, “how long have you been in Lord Thornton’s employ?”

She didn’t know the lad, which meant he’d been hired after she left.

“Since Bucharest, my lady.”

Bucharest? Lydia started. She hadn’t known Thorn went to Bucharest. She hadn’t known he traveled at all.

It occurred to her suddenly—she didn’t know anything about him anymore. The passion between them still smoldered, but aside from their brief correspondence, where she’d pretended to be his fiancée, they knew nothing about each other.

They were practically strangers.

And now he had her tied up in his bedroom and was going to marry her.

It sounded so ridiculous she would’ve laughed—if she weren’t actually tied up in his bloody bedroom!

Art, her Art, the one she’d known all those years ago, had been extremely gentle. Timid, even. Not this self-assured beast of a man. But if she were honest… She quite enjoyed the change.

There was a knock at the door, and a maid appeared on the threshold. Vlad turned to assist her, and Lydia took the opportunity to finally twist her hand free of the bindings. She placed the cloth over her wrists, holding them together to appear as if she were still tied, as Vlad walked toward her with the tea tray.

The moment he turned away to place the tray on the bedside table, she sprang from the bed and dashed toward the door.

“Miss?” Vlad’s voice followed after her, but she didn’t look back. She tore through the hall and down the stairs.

A pretentious old butler raised a brow as she rocketed past him toward the doors. Was that old Cecil? Well, he hadn’t changed one bit. Random thoughts flew through her mind as she flung the door open… And collided straight into Thorn.

He caught her by the arms, frowning down at her. “And where exactly are you going?”

“Away,” she snapped. “From you.”

“My lord,” Vlad called breathlessly from behind her.

Thorn glanced around the street, then stepped closer, tightening the hood of his cloak over both their heads. “Get inside,” he growled.