"Shipton!" Samuel whistled. "You reckon that brother of 'ers is mixed up in this, then?"

"Up to his filthy neck," Hugo said softly. "And I am going to break every corrupt bone in his body. They've

a six-hour start. If I'm right, Jasper's plans will be centered on the crypt." He was talking almost to himself as he maintained his fierce pace back to Mount Street. "Crispin and young DeLacy will be with him."

They wouldn't hurt her until after the wedding. If it was necessary, Jasper would use drugs to keep her quiet on the journey. He wouldn't risk drawing attention to his party by marking her in any visible way.

Drawing comfort from this conviction, he said briskly, "The lass doesn't have the stamina to ride from London to Shipton, so they'll be using a chaise. We should pick up the trail soon enough."

They had reached the house now and he ran up the steps. "Samuel, are you prepared to ride with me? It's a long haul, but we'll make better time than in a carriage."

"I'm with ye," Samuel said gruffly. "We startin' out now?"

"At dawn. They're bound to stop for the night, and if we ride all night, we'll only have to rest in the day. We'll leave at first light and pick up the trail at their first halt."

They seemed to have been bumping along in the ill-sprung chaise for hours. Late afternoon had given way to dusk, and the chill in the air intensified. No one had spoken for a long time.

Chloe sat slumped in her corner, every inch of her skin crawling with the awareness of Crispin beside her. Occasionally his thigh pressed hard against hers and she knew it was no accident. How could she face being married to him… sharing a bed with him… doing with him what she had done with Hugo? She felt sick and swallowed desperately, praying her body wouldn't betray her, wishing she had her hands. She felt so helpless without them.

She forced herself to think clearly, to examine her

position, hoping that focusing her mind would ease the panic. If they forced her into this marriage, what would happen? What would Hugo do? Could he do anything? People did get divorced. The king was trying to divorce Queen Caroline, although without much success. But it wasn't unheard of. Presumably Crispin would keep her fortune anyway, so perhaps he'd be willing to divorce her.

His thigh pressed against her again and she knew with sick revulsion that she was indulging a pipe dream. Crispin wouldn't let her go until he'd had enough of her. And not even Hugo would be able to persuade him otherwise.

What did he think had happened to her? It was well past dinnertime. Would he guess? But how could he? How could he possibly connect Denis with Jasper? He'd assume there'd been an accident of some kind and that she was taking shelter somewhere. It was not unusual with the roads as bad as they were after the snowstorm. He'd wait for a message… how long would he wait before he'd begin to worry in earnest?

"I can't feel my hands," she said in a small, fierce voice as she fought with her tears, determined not to break down in front of her captors.

"Would you like your wrists untied?" Jasper inquired almost casually, as if he were offering her a second helping at dinner.

"What do you think?" she snapped.

Her brother merely leaned back on the opposite seat and closed his eyes.

Chloe bit her lip. The ache in her arms was becoming unbearable and the lack of sensation in her hands was frightening. "Please," she said.

Jasper opened his eyes. "You are an ill-mannered brat," he observed. Leaning over, he caught her chin

and examined her face in the fading light. "However, I intend to remedy that with all due speed. If you attempt to use your hands again in that fashion, you'll journey all the way to Shipton with your wrists bound day and night, do you understand?"

Chloe nodded. There seemed no alternative.

"Untie her." Jasper leaned back again and Crispin pulled her out of her corner, manhandling her across his lap again as he unfastened the cravat. His wandering hands were on her body, and she squeezed her eyes tightly, biting her lip hard to keep herself from screaming abuse at him, struggling to prevent herself from flying at him with nails and fists and feet.

But at last he released her and she sat up, shrinking back into her corner, massaging her wrists, her hands stinging with pain as the blood flowed back. She rolled her shoulders back to ease the knot between her shoulder blades and tried to think clearly.

When did they intend the wedding to take place? Presumably not until they reached Shipton. What methods of persuasion would Jasper use to get her to the altar? And how much could she endure?

She had no idea of the answer to the latter question and dismally decided that she would find out empirically soon enough.

It was full dark when the chaise drove into the courtyard of a small inn just outside St. Albans.

Jasper leaned forward again and again took Chloe's chin with hard fingers. Holding her face steady, he slapped her cheek once. It was not a particularly hard blow, but it was completely unexpected and the tears that sprang in her eyes were tears of shock rather than pain. Denis drew breath sharply and Crispin smiled.

"That's a reminder, little sister," Jasper said softly. "You will keep your eyes on the ground, your mouth

shut, and if you take one step out of line, I will give you a beating you will remember for the rest of your life."

He didn't wait for a response, simply released her and jumped to the ground. The others followed, Chloe, still numb with shock, climbing down last. Jasper put his arm around her shoulders, turning her face toward his chest so that the mark of his hand on her left cheek couldn't be seen. The other two stepped close around him as the landlord bustled out to greet them.

"My sister is unwell," Jasper said. "I need two adjoining bedchambers and a private parlor."

The landlord bowed, his nose almost touching his knees, as he assured the travelers of the best his inn had to offer. "And my wife will be glad to assist the young lady to bed, sir," he said, moving backward toward the door. "A tisane should set her up nicely. Will you be wanting dinner, sirs? There's a shoulder of mutton with red currant sauce, and a compote of mushrooms, if it would please you."

Jasper didn't trouble to respond to this, merely followed their garrulous host upstairs to inspect the accommodations. He kept Chloe close to his side, and she made no attempt to move away. Two adjoining chambers, one with two big beds, the other with only one were presented and approved.

"No, my sister needs no assistance." Jasper declined the renewed offer of the landlady's help. "Just bring hot water to both chambers and have dinner on the table in half an hour. And bring up a bottle of your best burgundy," he called as the landlord rushed off.

"All right." He turned to his companions. "You two can have this chamber, my little sister and I will bear each other company in here." He pushed her ahead of him through the connecting door into the smaller of the two rooms.

"You're going to sleep in here with me?" Chloe managed finally to find words.

"Yes." It was a flat affirmative. Jasper glanced around the room and went to the window. The ivy was thick outside, certainly thick enough to bear Chloe's slight weight. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"I will not many Crispin," Chloe said, finding her courage. But she flinched as Jasper crossed the room toward her.

He stopped in front of her and she tried to keep still, to meet his eye. But it was impossible to hold his gaze as his eyes slid over her. Her knees shook as she waited for another blow. Jasper read her expectation and then laughed.

"You'll do as I bid you," he said almost indifferently, turning away from her as a servant came in with the portmanteau that had been strapped to the roof of the chaise, followed by a maid with a jug of hot water. He waved them away impatiently, cutting off their offers of further assistance. "Just bring the burgundy."