Historical Romance Boxed Set by Brenda Novak Read Free Book Online Page B

a puddle at his feet. She knew he probably expected her to glance up, but she kept her face averted, forcing one foot to step in front of the other as she moved purposefully toward the front door.
    The sound of heels clicking on the floor behind her alerted Alexandra to Calvert’s approach. His voice confirmed his identity when he called out in confusion.
    “My lady! Where are you going? Pray, give me a moment to bid you farewell.”
    Alexandra didn’t so much as pause. The front door was now only a few feet away and she fled through it, nearly tripping on the hem of Lady Anne’s gown as she ran down the porch steps.
    The footmen waiting with the Kimbolten coach out front jumped to attention. One even moved to open the door before realizing Alexandra was not his mistress.
    But before he could speak, five gruff-looking men dressed in sailor’s garb rushed the liveried servants, seeming to come from nowhere, as if the shrubs in the yard had suddenly grown arms and legs.
    The footmen were knocked senseless with a few bone-crunching blows, and the next thing Alexandra knew, someone was forcing a bag over her head.
    She tried to scream, but managed only a squeak unworthy of a mouse as a strong hand coiled around her neck, nearly cutting off her air. Flailing in panic, she began, despite her heavy skirts, to kick at everything and anything she could reach. She hit what felt like a sturdy shin here, perhaps a knee there, but the recipient of her blows seemed impervious. He—Alexandra could tell it was most definitely a he—didn’t so much as grunt or stumble, only pulled her hard against a solid chest.
    “Tie her up and make it quick,” he muttered, letting go of her neck.
    Once the bag was in place, he crushed her face into the hollow beneath his shoulder. Alexandra caught the scent of leather, horses, and soap through the cloth. Then she heard a strange whimper rise in her own throat as her hands were twisted painfully behind her back and bound with a thick, tarry rope.
    “And her feet?”
    “Not now.”
    Whoever held her hefted her easily over a broad shoulder. Then a deep, resonant voice, dripping with resentment, whispered, “Hello, dear sister. So we meet at last.”

 
     
    Chapter 3
     

     
    Alexandra struggled against the hands that held her fast, but there was little she could do as she landed hard on the floor of Lady Anne’s carriage. Her assailants climbed in around her. She could hear their urgent whispers, feel them jostle about. Then a voice said, “Let’s go,” and the conveyance lurched into motion.
    The blackness inside the bag sparked Alexandra’s memory of the trunk incident with Willy, causing the same panic to return. Once again caught in a tight, dark place, she writhed in misery. “Help! Let me out,” she wailed.
    “What’s wrong with her?” someone asked. “She’s frantic.”
    “Nothing. She’s been pampered and petted all of her life. That’s all. She’ll be fine,” responded the same man who had spoken to her before, calling her “sister.”
    Alexandra desperately wanted to believe the words spoken by that bitter voice. She would be fine, she told herself, over and over again. There was enough air to breathe. But something much deeper contradicted anything so rational, and tears began to stream down her face.
    “Please. Let me out. I can’t be in the dark. I can’t breathe!”
    Suddenly the hood was yanked off her head. “That’s enough!” A man with shocking blue eyes and long black hair pulled back into a queue at his nape, a man Alexandra had never seen before, glared at her. “Tears might work with other men, but they have little effect upon me.”
    Alexandra gulped as she tried to stifle her tears and suck air into her lungs at the same time. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”
    Her blue-eyed captor gave her a glacial smile. “I’m afraid we have never had the pleasure of being formally introduced. I am Nathaniel Kent, your older brother.”
    “My