‘Tis I, Robert Jamison. Can you hear me? Please, speak to me. Confusion spilled through her addled senses. Lord Robert? He sounded so close… close enough to touch. She forced her eyes open. Blackness surrounded her. Pain sizzled through her head, and she gasped, squeezing her eyes closed. Where was she? Surely not the drawing room or her bedchamber at the Bradford town house. How had she gotten here… wherever here was? And why did she hurt so much? She licked her parched lips and grimaced at the foul taste coating her mouth. That awful taste. How-?

Memory flooded back as if a dam had burst in her mind. Walking in the garden… accosted by a man… that dreadful rag stuffed in her mouth. Then darkness. The truth hit her like a bucket of icy water, reviving her from her stupor. Someone had tried to abduct her. No, someone had abducted her. And had left her in this awful, stinking darkness.

Fear seized her, snatching her breath. She tried to move, and discovered she was bound. Fear threatened to turn into panic. Who had done this? Who wished her harm? Why? Why? This incident could not be passed off as an accident. But right now, she had to-

"Mrs. Brown, can you hear me? Please wake up."

A layer of relief tempered her fear. She hadn't imagined his voice. She licked her parched lips. "Lord Robert?" Her voice came out in a cracked whisper. "Where are you?"

A rush of air that sounded like a heartfelt sigh of relief brushed by her ear. "Thank God you're awake. I'm here. Right behind you. We're bound together." He jiggled his shoulders, arrowing a shaft of pain up the back of her head.

"Where are we?"

"I'm not certain, but I think we're near the docks. This seems to be some sort of warehouse."

She felt him squirm behind her, and realized that the warm, solid mass pressing against her from shoulder to waist was his broad back. She swallowed, then asked, "How did we get here?"

"I returned to the town house for my walking stick and saw someone sneaking out of Austin 's garden, carrying a sack. I followed, hoping to retrieve his stolen goods, never imagining you were what was stolen. I'd no sooner realized it when I was coshed from behind, and now here we are." He shifted again. "I've no wish to alarm you, Mrs. Brown, and I've plenty of questions myself, but they'll have to wait. We must free ourselves and get away from here before whoever put us here returns. How do you feel? Are you injured?"

She experimentally moved her bound legs and flexed as much as the tight bindings confining her chest and midriff allowed. "A bit sore all around, but nothing broken as far as I can tell. How are you?"

"Judging by the colossal pounding in my head, I'd say I have an egg-sized lump on my noggin, but otherwise I'm fine." He shifted a bit and grunted. "These ropes are secure. I can't move them." Another series of grunts and what sounded like a muffled obscenity escaped him. "Of course, the fact that my fingers have gone numb doesn't help. How are your hands?"

She wriggled her fingers and they brushed against his. "Cramped, but not numb."

"Excellent. I have a knife in my boot, or at least I did… one moment…" She felt him shifting. "It's still there," came his triumphant whisper several seconds later. "I can see the tip of the hilt."

Hope bloomed in her heart. "Can you remove it?"

"Yes, but it will require some shifting about… for both of us."

"Just tell me what do to."

"I'll try to be as gentle as possible-"

"Lord Robert. While I appreciate your concern for my sensibilities, I am not a fragile hothouse flower, nor am I the sort of woman to fall victim to fainting spells or gasps of horror. This is a matter of life and death. I'm as anxious to depart this place as you are, so let's get on with it. Do whatever you must. I shall cooperate fully."

"All right. On the count of three, I am going to lean forward and pull out the knife with my teeth. I need you to assist me by leaning back, then keeping a steady pressure. Ready?"

"Yes."

"One, two, three."

She leaned back, arching her spine as he leaned forward. The position was uncomfortable, but she held it steady, scarcely daring to breathe lest she move in a way that would break his concentration or cause him to fail. In less than a minute she heard the quiet swish of metal being unsheathed, then a muffled thunk.

"Got it," he reported in a terse whisper. "I dropped it onto the floor next to me. My hands are useless, therefore we need to shift so you can reach the knife. Then all you need to do is cut the ropes."

"Without amputating our fingers in the process, I suppose?"

"That would be the preferred method, yes."

"In that case, I shall try to be as gentle as possible," she said, using the same words he'd employed earlier.

She felt his head turn, and she turned hers as well, looking over her shoulder. She could see the outline of his profile, and she fancied that his teeth flashed white in the darkness with a quick grin.

"I think our best bet is to use leverage. The floor is wood and that will aid us. Bend your knees, plant your heels, then push against my back while shifting your, ah, bottom. I'll do the same. We'll go about three or four inches at a time. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly."

"On three, we'll move to my right, your left," he said.

He counted, and she dug her heels into the rough wood. Sharp pain stabbed her heel and she clamped her jaws to keep from crying out. She'd obviously lost a shoe, because the wood cut directly into her skin.

"Problem?" he asked over his shoulder.

"No."

She pressed against his back and scooted her bottom several inches to the left.

"Excellent," he said. "Now we need to move me forward. You push and I'll pull."

They accomplished the move, with Allie biting her lip against the pain from the deep splinter in her heel.

"Now just a little more to your left," Lord Robert said, "and the knife will be directly beneath your fingers."

They shifted again, and Allie's fingertips brushed against smooth metal. "I feel it," she whispered.

"Grab the hilt so you don't cut yourself. It's very sharp."

By squirming and maneuvering her hands, she determined which end was the hilt. She wrapped her fingers around it and barely suppressed a whoop of triumph. "I've got it!"

"Good girl. Now cut the ropes and we'll be off."

His tone was breezy, but Allie heard the tension beneath the lighthearted words. He clearly didn't want to sound afraid, didn't want her to be afraid. But she was. With each second that passed, the man who'd abducted her and bound them might return. And hand them a fate far worse than what they'd been dealt so far.

As if to prove her thought correct, the distant sound of muffled male voices interrupted the silence, icing her blood.

"Hurry," Lord Robert urged. "I don't know if that's our man, but I'd rather not find out."

"I couldn't agree more." Gripping the knife's handle and concentrating for all she was worth, while furiously praying she left their limbs intact, Allie sawed at the ropes. The position was awkward and progress so slow that the urge to scream in frustration nearly overwhelmed her. She strained her ears, listening for the male voices, but she heard nothing other than her own sharp breaths and the pounding of her heart. She pushed the blade at the ropes, fighting the desperation and panic clawing at her. Stay calm. Breathe steady.

"They're loosening," Lord Robert reported tersely. "Keep going. We're almost there."

Spurred on by his words, she continued to saw at the ropes, nicking the rough hemp deeper each time. A trickle of something warm and wet slithered over her fingers, loosening her hold on the hilt. A faint metallic scent filled her nostrils. Blood. Dear God. His? Hers? She didn't know. She didn't feel anything, and he hadn't complained. Of course, with his hands rendered numb, she could have sliced off a half dozen of his fingers and he wouldn't feel it. Don't think about it. It's just a nick. Keep going. You're almost there.

And suddenly she was free. With a final stroke of the blade, the ropes fell from her wrists. A sob bubbled up in her throat and she nearly choked swallowing it. With her hands liberated, she quickly wiped her slippery fingers and the knife's hilt on her gown, then cut the ropes binding their chests. As soon as her body was free, she turned and carefully cut the ropes binding his hands. The instant the cut ropes fell away, a low groan escaped him and he moved his arms forward, across his chest.

Allie made quick work of the ropes binding her feet, then scooted around to cut the last of the ropes securing Lord Robert's ankles. She ventured a quick peek at his face. Even the dim light couldn't hide the grimace twisting his features as he flexed his fingers.

"How are your hands?" she asked, returning her attention to her cutting.

"Deader than stone. My legs as well. But I'm working on it."

"There. You're free. Let me help you." Setting the knife beside her, she reached out for his hands. She quickly ran her fingers over them in as thorough an exam as she could manage in the darkness.

"No cuts or bleeding," she murmured, relieved. Then with sure, deft strokes, she massaged his palms and each finger. He had big hands. Broad-palmed and long-fingered. Surprise raised her brows at the calluses that roughened those broad palms. She'd thought his gentleman's hands would have been smooth.

After a minute, a low groan emanated from him. "Feeling is coming back. In my legs as well. Much as I'd like to give you several hours to continue that marvelous rubbing, we'd best be off. Can you-?"