In Pursuit of Eliza Cynster by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online Page A

helpless and unable to accomplish anything on her own, Eliza let her muscles slacken in not entirely assumed defeat. “Clearly there’s no hope, so I may as well behave.”
    As long as it suited her.
    She’d allowed the weakness stealing over her, through her, to color her voice. She wasn’t surprised when Scrope, after considering her for a long moment, nodded. He looked at Genevieve. “Release her. But if she shows any further sign of making our life difficult, we’ll bind and gag her.”
    With a black look for Eliza, Genevieve unlocked her hold on Eliza’s wrist and, with a muted humph, settled back in her seat.
    The three of them went back to what they’d been doing before the drama — before she’d seen Jeremy Carling driving past.
    Eliza knew she should have felt wretchedly disappointed, but summoning the strength even for that was a struggle. She’d assumed her ability to think had meant the laudanum had worn off. She’d thought she’d marshaled her strength, that she’d recovered and gathered enough of that commodity to, when and if her moment came, make a determined show, enough to convince whoever went by to assist her.
    Admittedly, she’d had little hope of seeing anyone who might help, but then, wonder of wonders, she’d seen a familiar face.
    She hadn’t stopped to consider further but had flung herself at the window. She’d bashed the glass and screamed for help …
    The instant she’d moved, her head had spun. But, desperate, she’d poured every ounce of strength and determination into that moment, into doing all she possibly could.
    Now she felt drained. Literally wrung out.
    And, it seemed, it had all been for nought.
    Jeremy Carling. Of all the gentlemen fate might have sent her way, why had it had to have been him?
    He was a scholar, a dreamer, a certified genius, but standoffish, with a marked disinterest in social life; he was so absentminded she seriously doubted he would remember her name.
    He might not even have recognized her enough to register that he knew her.
    That was a distinct possibility. Although she’d been introduced to him formally at a ball several years ago, and had seen him several times in family drawing rooms since, she’d barely exchanged two words with him — and those had been at that first meeting years ago, when he’d appeared to be so elsewhere she’d quickly found some polite reason to quit the group he’d been with.
    Still, there was nothing else she could have done; for good or ill, she’d had to grasp the opportunity when it had offered.
    She heaved a deep, despondent sigh, uncaring if the other two heard. It would only add to the image of a beaten, helpless female … she wasn’t quite that, but at that moment she felt close to it.
    Closing her eyes, she tried to relax, to marshal her strength and determination again.
    In her mind, a faint hope flickered.
    She had, after all, recognized Jeremy Carling, so he, in turn, might — just might — have recognized her.
    It was a slim hope, but it was the only sliver of hope she had. In her present dejected and worn-out state, she had to cling to whatever she could.
    If he had recognized her, what would he do? He was a scholar, no hero — not a knight or a warrior to come riding to her rescue himself. But he would be concerned, surely, and would either send word to her family, or visit them himself when he returned to town …
    If he was returning to town. She had no idea why he’d been this far north. Perhaps he was visiting friends?
    Folding her arms, she settled deeper into the corner. She couldn’t predict what Jeremy might do, but he was an honorable man — he’d do something to help her.
     
     
    It took a full minute for Jeremy to convince his brain that this was really happening, that he wasn’t dreaming, that the situation was real .
    Then he started thinking. Furiously.
    Jasper, finding him uninterested in going on, dragged the reins until he could lower his head and crop the grass of the