Page 86 of Icebound

“Let go of me,” she said.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, chérie.” Releasing one arm, he reached up to touch the side of her face. She felt a slight stinging sensation, and then she was falling, falling into darkness. A moment later, she was gone.

When Chloe woke, everything was in darkness. It smelled of damp and rotting vegetation, almost like low tide, and she tried to move, but her hands were tied in front of her, and she couldn’t break free. Her whole body ached, and she struggled to sit up, trying to lever herself using her bound hands. She finally managed it, and she reached up to her face. They’d blindfolded her, but she had enough dexterity in her fingers to pull it down, and she looked around her in well-controlled panic.

“Oh, you’re awake,” said Le Fauçon in his plummy, soothing tones. “I’m sorry we’ve had to tie you up, but I was afraid you’d take exception to coming here with us. It seemed prudent to restrain you.”

She glanced around her. They were in an odd sort of room, with paneled walls and smallish windows, and she could feel the faint sensation of movement beneath her, adding to her disorientation. “Where am I?”

“We’re down by Tilbury Docks,” Luc said. “We’ve chartered a boat and we’ll be heading back to Spain tomorrow morning.”

“We?” she echoed, trying to keep the fuzz from her voice.

“Well, Le Fauçon and I,” Luc clarified. “Don’t worry—Bastien will be here soon—we all know he will. He’d never let you stay in our wicked clutches for long.” His charming smile was oddly chilling.

“And what will happen when he comes here? You’ll kill him, won’t you?”

“Nonsense,” said Le Fauçon. “He still has a great deal of value to us. We simply have to get him back on his medicine and he’ll be as right as rain.”

“And what about me?”

“We’ll leave that up to him. But once he’s feeling more like Jean-Marc, he’ll probably realize that you’re a liability.”

“He didn’t kill me the last time you told him to,” she shot back. “What makes you think he will now?”

“Because it won’t take much to turn him back to the man we know and love. And he won’t remember you. He’ll take my word that you’re a danger, and he’ll take care of you, swiftly and painlessly, I assure you,” Le Fauçon said.

“For some reason, I don’t find that comforting,” Chloe said.

Le Fauçon laughed his hearty laugh. “You’re such a delightful girl, my dear. I really do regret doing this to you. But then, Maddelena would have my head if I don’t bring her husband back to her.”

“She’s not really his wife,” Chloe said firmly.

“Oh, but I assure you, she is. I facilitated their wedding, long ago, before you even knew him. I’m afraid you’re the one who’s not a real wife, not if the laws against bigamy still hold true.”

She felt a stab of pain inside her, but she kept her face impassive. “I don’t believe you. Bastien would never have married me if he was already married.”

Le Fauçon shrugged, a startlingly French gesture on such a quintessentially British figure. “Who knows what goes on in the boy’s brain?” he said. “It’s possible he thought it wasn’t legal. But I assure you, it was. I arranged it.”

“He’s not a boy, and I’m not a girl,” she said bitterly.

“I beg your pardon, my dear. I’m a bit old-fashioned. He should be here before long. I don’t suppose I could rely on you not to warn him?”

“What do you think?” Lying would have done her no good.

“Luc, tie that gag around her mouth, would you? Not too tight, now. We wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable,” Le Fauçon cautioned.

“How does he know where I am?” she said quickly, before Luc could approach her.

“I sent a message. It’s damned inconvenient that he doesn’t have a phone.”

“Bastien hates cell phones,” she said.

“So does Jean-Marc. Unfortunately. Nevertheless, he’ll be here shortly if he values your life.”

“He values it,” she shot back.

“For now,” Le Fauçon said.