So Worthy My Love by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss Page A

pleasure. Beneath the light of the lantern, she plucked dead leaves and small twigs from her hair and primly brushed her velvet gown. Satisfied that she had done what she could to repair her appearance and thereby test the patience of the men, she raised a hand to Spence.
    â€œHave a care. I’m wounded,” she complained, then immediately sucked in her breath as he bumped her ankle in his eagerness to help. It had only been a small, insignificant bruise, but with such clumsy attention, she mused, it was not likely to remain so for long. “Please! My ankle!”
    â€œ ‘Tis dreadful sorry I be, mistress,” Spence rushed to apologize. Once again he bent to lift her up into his arms, this time using more care.
    Elise was confused by his apparent show of concern, but she had no doubt that she would learn more of their game as time progressed . . . if she lived that long. “I should like to know what you intend,” she demanded. “Why have I been kidnapped?” Though he gave no answer, she pressed him further, anxious to gain what information she could. “Were you hired by the Radbornes? Did they promise you a purse to bring me back?”
    Spence looked somewhat perplexed and slowly shook his head as he replied, “Nay, mistress. We’ve no ken o’ the Radbornes.”
    Elise found no comfort in his statement. It was a simple enough matter for her aunt and cousins to make use of other names when hiring their accomplices. Of late, she had taken to tying a pouch of coins beneath her farthingale to ensure the presence of some bargaining power if circumstances warranted it. The present time seemed appropriate, but rather than letting them know she carried it on her person, she would let the pair think their reward awaited them at her uncle’s house. “I can promise you a worthy purse for your trouble if you’ll take me back to Brad-bury Hall. I vow ‘twould be more than what you can expect from the ones who’ve set you to this mischief. Oh, please . . . you must take me back. I’ll pay you well.”
    â€œHis lor’ship says we’re ta take ye ta London, mistress, an’ ‘at’s where ye’ll be goin’.”
    â€œLord Forsworth, perchance?” Elise queried and chuckled in derision. “Let me assure you, good fellow, if that be the one who’s hired you, he is not a lord, and he’s as poor as a church mouse.”
    â€œNe’er ye worry yerself ’bout his purse, mistress. His lor’ship needs none atall wit’ the pair o’ us. We’re as loyal as fish is ta water.” Spence’s flatly spoken answer made it apparent that he could not be coaxed from his mission.
    Fitch ran past with a lantern as his companion carried her to the river’s bank. Setting the lamp upon the ground, the portly man reached into the tall reeds growing in thick clusters along the shoreand, seizing a rope, wound the cord around the length of his forearm until a boat was dragged from the grassy growth. He hastened to prepare a soft place in the prow, spreading out several fur robes, and it was upon this that Spence lowered their captive. The cockboat wallowed from side to side as the taller man stepped to the stern.
    Fitch settled amidship and, placing the lantern beside him, grasped the oars. With amazingly powerful strokes, he rowed the boat from shore out into the main channel where he dropped a centerboard and stepped a stubby mast which the two of them quickly braced before hoisting a small triangular sail. The small craft took on a skipping, dancing, headless manner ‘twixt the errant breezes and the strong, dark currents until Spence, lowering the rudder into the water and leaning against the tiller, brought the vessel into a steady, smooth course downstream.
    The lantern was doused, and once more the night closed in about them. Elise’s eyes grew accustomed to the dark, and as the boat