"Ah Miss Rufford, just who I was looking for," George bowed. "I was also hoping to see Lord Dunham."

"He is not here at the moment, I am expecting him in around two hours." Elizabeth explained.

"Excellent, excellent. I would like to speak to you both together, but in the meantime would you do me the honour of joining me in a small drink?"

Elizabeth was reluctant to spend any time in George's company, even without Michael's warning in her ears. "I was hoping to finish a few things off before Lord Dunham arrived, as there is still a lot to do before we leave for London." she explained, hoping she did not sound too rude.

"I do understand, but for me it is an attempt at an apology, and I would prefer to be private with you, if you wouldn't mind." George indicated that they should move to the house and Elizabeth reluctantly complied. He led her to the deserted drawing room. George made the usual excessive show of seating her in a chair while promising her a special drink.

"It is an old recipe of my mother's, and I hope you will like it. I will even give you the secret recipe as part of my apology." George took a hip flask out of his pocket and poured two small gla.s.ses of clear liquid.

"Thank you, but there is really no need," Elizabeth was as uncomfortable in his presence as usual. She took the gla.s.s offered and took a sip, the drink was slightly bitter, but not unpleasantly so. "What do you feel you need to apologise to me for Mr Watson? Surely it should be me apologising to you for cutting your stay short."

"Yes, that was a little unexpected, it meant Miranda's plans had to be brought to a head," George said sitting opposite Elizabeth. "How is your drink?"

"It's pleasant thank you. What plans did Miranda have? I wasn't aware of anything." Elizabeth frowned to herself. Her sister-in-law obviously wanted her money, but apart from that she had not mentioned any plans. If it was her intention was to leave Elizabeth's home, it could mean that Elizabeth was returning to London when she did not need to. Miranda had been acting a little distant since Elizabeth had announced her return to London, but Elizabeth had no idea she was intending to do anything other than returning to Lancashire. Elizabeth finished the drink and placed the gla.s.s on the side table, hoping to draw the meeting to a conclusion as soon as possible.

"Are you sure you weren't aware? We were all hoping for a match between the two of us, you can't have been so blind as to not realise what the aim of my visit here was. Your guardian has tried to block every attempt at me achieving my aim, but I'm afraid he has underestimated the determination of my sister and myself." George said leaning forward. His face seemed to change, the foolish expression disappeared and a more sinister, hard expression emerged. "You have made this all the more difficult for everyone. If you had agreed to give Miranda your money, none of this needed to happen, but now Elizabeth, can I call you Elizabeth? Of course I can, because tomorrow we will be as intimate as two people can be, and you will be begging me and my family to restore your good name."

"What?" Elizabeth struggled to comprehend what was being said to her. She had heard the words and understood the horror of them, but she was finding it difficult to reply or move. Her body felt like lead and she tried to stand, but could not. "What have you done to me?" She managed to slur, before losing the power of speech.

"Don't worry, it won't kill you. You are no use to us dead, but you will be asleep shortly, and we are going on a little journey. When you wake you can prepare yourself for your night with me, it is inevitable, and there will be no escape. I must say I am looking forward to showing you how a man deals with a woman who refuses to submit gracefully."

George's promises were the last horrifying words that Elizabeth heard before falling into unconsciousness.

Miranda opened the door slowly, but entered quickly when she received George's encouragement. "Everything went as planned?"" she asked, sneering at Elizabeth's slumped form.

"Yes, the fear and shock in her eyes was a delight to see. It was ludicrously easy. She will not be so brave without her precious Lord in tow. Have you got everything organised? We cannot have any mistakes at this point." George moved towards Elizabeth.

"Of course, and Herbert is clear with what he needs to do. He will be out of here before Lord Dunham arrives, and there will be no trace of us. The carriage is waiting." Miranda said, moving to one side of Elizabeth, as they needed to get her out of the house quickly.

"Where are the butler and Miss Fairfield? The last thing we need is being seen by them." George asked as he moved towards the door.

"On a wild goose chase for me. Come on, we need to move quickly." Miranda said as she breathed heavily, half carrying, half dragging Elizabeth's body with George.

Elizabeth was bundled into the waiting carriage. The staff were employed by George, and were loyal to the highest bidder. There was no danger of them reporting what they were doing or where they were going, to any of Elizabeth's staff. It was an investment George and Miranda had been prepared to make to ensure they were successful.

They threw Elizabeth into a corner, neither had any urge to show any gentleness. Miranda was motivated by money, and George, although firmly under his sister's control, was looking forward to having the carnal pleasure of Elizabeth's body before nightfall. He was looking forward to the journey during which he could plan what he was going to do to her. He sat back with a smile on his face; he hoped she would struggle when the time came.

The horses were set to, and a fast, uncomfortable journey began. It was vital to put as much distance between the house and carriage as possible. Horses would be changed along the journey at record speed, and breaks kept to a minimum. Miranda would have normally created a serious commotion at needing to travel in such a way, but the thought of seeing Elizabeth's downfall, and being able to get her hands on her money kept her quiet.

Chapter 16.

Herbert heard the carriage leave the house and hurried to the window, glad to see that all was going to plan as Miranda had said, but he still wanted to be as far away from this place as quickly as possible. He called to his valet and gave instructions to bring the carriage around immediately. When the valet left the room Herbert hurried to Miranda's room, and started to move her luggage downstairs.

He had complained when told that he would need to sort out the luggage himself, but he had been given clear instructions not to involve any of Elizabeth's staff. Without his wife's presence he was brave enough to curse under his breath as he struggled with the heavy wooden trunks. This was going to take some time; he needed George's luggage and his own before he could leave. A man not used to exertion of any kind was going to struggle to move so many items, but he was all too aware that the task needed to be done quickly.

On his third journey downstairs he reached the foot of the stairs to be greeted by Smithson. He inwardly groaned. Miranda had sent the butler to do her bidding, but why did the man have to be so efficient? Herbert tried to ignore the butler, and threw the hatboxes on top of the other luggage.

"Are you leaving sir?" came the inevitable question. There was no look of surprise or curiosity on Smithson's face upon seeing the visitor moving his wife's baggage instead of a member of staff.

"Yes, urgent business has meant we need to leave now. There is no time to lose." Herbert babbled as he moved back up the stairs.

"Will Mrs Rufford and Mr Watson also be leaving with you?"

"They have had to leave already; I've no time to lose on idle chit-chat. Stop bothering me man!" Herbert snapped, and disappeared towards George's room.

Smithson sent a maid to find Miss Fairfield and Miss Rufford, and waited patiently for the return of Herbert. "Perhaps I could get the staff to help with your luggage, sir?" He offered as Herbert came back down the stairs.

"No need. Oh yes, why not?" Herbert panted. "Ask them to empty Mr Watson's room and load everything onto the carriage outside. I will bring my own luggage." Herbert did not want any close scrutiny of his boxes. Miranda had taken some items from the house. Not as many as she would have liked to have taken, but unfortunately the house was not yet fully furnished, so she had had a limited choice. There were enough objects secreted among his belongings though, to provide some ready cash until Elizabeth's money was handed over to George, and through him to themselves.

Smithson issued instructions for the removal of the luggage to a footman and a hall boy. He watched curiously as Herbert disappeared up the stairs again. He was approached by both Miss Fairfield and the maid, who reported that Miss Rufford was nowhere to be found. His expression betrayed none of the foreboding that had started to develop from the moment he saw Mr Rufford's behaviour.

Miss Fairfield sent the maid out to the stables to check if Elizabeth had been detained there, and used the opportunity to speak to Mr. Smithson uninterrupted. "Miss Rufford did not mention to me any reason she should be away from home this morning." she said quietly.

"No, I don't believe she had any plans. She was expecting Lord Dunham as usual." Smithson responded just as quietly.

"This is completely out of character for her. I do not like casting doubt over the integrity of her family, but I cannot but help feel that there is something seriously amiss." Miss Fairfield said, still calm, but a frown developing.

"I am in agreement. I feel that a delay of Mr Rufford's departure until Lord Dunham arrives would be advantageous. I do not like to delay Mr Rufford, but I think in this instance it would be prudent."

Their conversation was interrupted by Herbert again bringing luggage downstairs. He was sweating and breathing deeply, but dared not instruct the staff to help. He took his suitcase directly out to the now waiting carriage and placed it in the main body, an action that saw Miss Fairfield and Mr Smithson exchange glances because of its peculiarity. Herbert came back into the hall and once again went towards the stairs.

"I would suggest sir, that Lord Dunham may wish to see you before your departure," Smithson said to the retreating figure. His words stopped Herbert in his tracks.

"He's not here, is he?" Herbert asked, obviously trying to remain calm, but the higher pitch of his voice was evidence of the fear that Smithson's words had caused.

"No, sir, but I am sure that in Miss Rufford's absence, he would wish to take his leave of you."

"I have no time to wait. I am almost ready to go. I shall leave a note for Lord Dunham." Herbert dismissed any further conversation with a wave of his arm, and this time he ran up the stairs.

"This is very odd." Miss Fairfield muttered. She was prevented from saying anything else by the return of the maid, who was able to report that Miss Rufford had not been seen since she had left the stables some time ago, and returned to the house with Mr Watson.

"Miss Fairfield, I feel I owe it to Miss Rufford to take matters into my own hands until either her return, or the arrival of Lord Dunham." Smithson said, and started quickly up the stairs.

"I agree Mr Smithson, I feel rapid action is needed before it is too late." Miss Fairfield followed Smithson to Herbert's room where the butler indicated that she should not follow him inside. He opened the door without knocking to find Herbert making a final check to ensure he had all of his possessions, and hurriedly putting on his coat.

"Do you have the note for Lord Dunham that you were going to leave, sir?" Smithson asked smoothly.

"For G.o.d's sake man! Will you stop hounding me?" Herbert snapped. His nerves had been stretched to breaking point with the butler watching his every move. Miranda had not kept the staff occupied for long enough in his opinion. He felt aggrieved that he had been forced to undergo such scrutiny.

"I'm sorry sir, I must insist that you remain in your room until Lord Dunham arrives." Smithson informed Herbert as he quickly took the key to the bedroom door out of its lock, and left the room, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He placed the key in his jacket pocket and for the first time that morning smiled at Miss Fairfield.

It had taken Herbert a moment or two before he realised what Smithson had done. When he saw his escape route disappear he threw himself at the door and hammered on the wood for all he was worth. He cursed loudly, and swore to be let out, but Smithson ignored the shouts and calmly led Miss Fairfield away, apologising for the obscenities that could be heard all the way down the stairs.

Michael and Charles approached the house earlier than expected. Michael had arranged with Charles that he would take Elizabeth out for a ride before they started their daily business. He knew she would appreciate a short escape, and with them arriving early they would avoid George insisting on accompanying them, giving Elizabeth a real break from her tormentor.

His temper over the last few days had been strained to breaking point, but to his astonishment it was not his dislike of the visitors that had stretched his temper, it was the effect they had on Elizabeth. He had never experienced, before meeting Elizabeth, the constant urge of wanting to make someone happy, of ensuring his time was spent in making their time easier, but that was now his focus. His whole being seemed to want to make sure Elizabeth was content, and having her family around her was definitely not the way to achieve that. He could not demand that they be sent packing, but he had been relieved when Elizabeth had agreed to go back to London. He would make sure on their return that she had some respite from the stressful days she had had to endure.

A carriage waited in front of the house, which Michael could not help but hope was indicating that at least George was leaving, if not all three visitors. He entered the hallway with Charles and was met by a serious faced Smithson at the bottom of the stairs.

"Where will I find Miss Rufford?" Michael asked handing the butler his gloves. ""I want to take her for a ride before we start work today, but if you could keep the information from the other guests here, I would be grateful." Michael knew he would have an ally in the butler.

"Yes, Sir, although I am not sure where Miss Rufford is at present. We are dealing with a little problem at the moment, I'm afraid," came the calm, but serious reply.

"Explain." Michael's single word was all that was needed for the butler to release his fears for his mistress and the strange behaviour of Mr Rufford, resulting in Smithson's drastic action. Michael barely managed to suppress the feeling of panic that almost swamped him at Smithson's words.

"Mrs Rufford and Mr Watson also seem to be missing. Mr Rufford informed me that they had to leave because of urgent business. We thought it prudent to lock Mr Rufford in his bedchamber until we decided what further action needed taking, and continued the search for Miss Rufford. When we found him, he was trying to leave with their belongings."

Miss Fairfield had joined the group, and the worry on her face increased the tension. "She is not to be found anywhere. I don't believe she is on the estate, or we would have found her by now," she said to the gentlemen present.

"Surely she would have told you if she was going anywhere?" Charles asked Miss Fairfield, his tone slightly accusing.

"She told me her plans for this morning, yes," Miss Fairfield snapped in response. "But I am not my mistress's keeper and I was sent on a wild goose chase by Mrs Rufford."

"I would have thought that it would have been more prudent to stay near your mistress with all that has been happening lately." the normally calm Charles, snapped.

"Surely, it was better that I prevented her relations putting her under even more pressure," Miss Fairfield responded. "She is not here my Lord." she said turning to Lord Dunham, concern and worry etched on her face.

Michael cursed and ran up the stairs with Charles and Smithson following close on his heels. Smithson took out the large key to the bedroom and opened the door for Michael, who burst into the room the second the lock was released. Herbert had risen from his chair when he heard the key turning, but the moment he set eyes on Michael he sat back in his chair with a groan, all colour draining from his usual ruddy complexion.

"Where is she?" Michael demanded, crossing the room in two strides. He towered over the now cowering Herbert.

"Wh-Who? My wife? She has had to leave, she was sorry to have missed you." Herbert may have been frightened, but he knew that to give Michael any information would result in the wrath of his wife descending on him, and he could not decide at that moment which would be worse.

"You have one chance," Michael whispered leaning down further. "If you cause me any delay in finding her and one hair of her head is harmed because of your actions, I will kill you in the slowest, most painful way I can imagine, even if I have to hang for the privilege."

One look at Michael's face, and Herbert was under no illusion that he meant every word he said. He swallowed and then realised he had no choice; he wanted to live, despite Miranda's punishment that would surely follow this whole sorry episode. "They've taken her to make sure they get her money."

"Where have they taken her? Are they going to Gretna Green?" Michael demanded. His mind was racing as to how they could force Elizabeth into a marriage, since even at Gretna Green the partic.i.p.ants had to be willing.

"No, Miranda knew that would be too difficult to achieve," Herbert supplied; taking some pride in the fact that his wife had predicted Michael would guess a flight across the Border first. "They are going to ruin her, so she will be forced to marry George."

"Ruin her?" Michael suddenly had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and for the first time in his life he felt as if he might faint.

Herbert saw a strange expression pa.s.s over Michael's face and he became worried for his safety again. He babbled on before Michael had time to act. "George has drugged her and she will be ruined once she regains her senses."

There was a sickening silence in the room as the words sank in. Each person suddenly realised Elizabeth was in real danger and without Herbert's help they might not be able to reach her in time.

"Where is she?" Michael roared the words, inches from Herbert's face.

"I can show you, but you will be too late, they have had a good start on you." Herbert lied with the last part of the sentence. Even with his life in danger he was trying to enable Miranda to win by pretending that they had had a bigger start than they actually had. In reality, the group had only left an hour and half previously.

His words caused inaction to turn in to rapid action. He was forcibly dragged down the stairs, his feet trailing behind him. Charles had run on ahead to change the staff of the carriage.

It seemed a matter of moments before Herbert was thrown into his carriage. As Michael threw him in he paused, "If you send me on a wild goose chase, it will be worse for you. All you can hope for now is that we reach her in time."

Michael withdrew from the carriage doorway. "I shall send word when I have found her." he informed Charles and Smithson.

Smithson nodded, but Charles stepped forward. "I am accompanying you, my Lord."

"Stay here." Michael instructed firmly.

"No, Sir, we have no idea how many accomplices they have waiting. I am coming with you." Charles had never contradicted his employer before, but he was sure that he was in the right in this instance.

Michael nodded and climbed into the carriage with Charles following. The door had hardly had time to close, before the carriage was moving away at speed. Smithson and Miss Fairfield were left to wait in the hope that Lord Dunham would arrive in time, as the alternative was too horrifying to contemplate, but it kept the pair pacing the house for the hours ahead.

Chapter 17.

After a few hours Miranda prodded Elizabeth. "How much of that stuff did you give her? She seems to have been unconscious for a long time; she's not dead is she?"

"No she isn't dead," George snapped. It annoyed him when Miranda thought she was the only one that could organise anything. "I gave her enough to make it easy for us to get her into the inn. You don't wish for a scene in a coaching yard do you?"

"No, but she needs to be awake later. She needs to know what you have done to her."

"She will. She will know exactly what is happening to her." George leered.

Elizabeth just managed to repress the shiver that had run down her spine at George's words. She had almost given herself away when the affects of the drug had started to wear off, but had remained still and silent until the waves of nausea had pa.s.sed. Listening to the siblings talking in the carriage had terrified her in a way she had never experienced before.

She was to be ruined by George in order to gain access to her money, although she was not sure what their exact plans were as yet. She presumed they would not kill her; they would only have access to her money as long as she lived, but the thought of George forcing himself on her was enough for her to wish for death.

Her mind tried to work out a way that could free her from this, but she had the feeling that even if she offered them all her money, it would no longer be enough. Miranda hated her, and if she was ruined, Miranda would have all the ammunition she needed to taunt Elizabeth for the rest of her days. The after effects of the drug made her sluggish, and more than once she was nearly overcome with tears. She wanted Michael, but knew it was futile; he could never find her, they had under- estimated Miranda and George. Once George had forced himself on her, well, after that happened she would not want Michael to find her. She would never be able to face him. The thought of never seeing him again made her feel so empty, that for the second time in as many minutes, she wished for death.

The carriage finally came to a stop in an inn's yard and George stepped out of the carriage. He approached the ostler. "My sister has taken ill on the journey; have you a room we could use?" His tone had the right amount of authority and concern.

"I will get the inn-keeper, sir." came the hurried reply. Elizabeth heard steps retreating across the cobbles.

More conversation occurred out of earshot and then the carriage door swung open. "Miranda my dear, this kind gentleman has a room available that our dear Elizabeth can recover in. Come, my dear, she will soon recover."

Miranda put on such a convincing show of concern while George lifted Elizabeth out of the carriage. If the situation had not been so terrifying, Elizabeth would have been able to laugh at their performance. As it was, she let her head loll back in George's arms and remained still and limp. She was placed gently on the bed and the inn-keeper was asked for fresh water for the invalid, and some food for George and Miranda.

"Why have you ordered food?" Miranda snapped as the door closed.