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Chapter 22 - The Worst Kidnapper

"Shh…"

The whisper grazed her ear, followed by a firm grip around her waist.

Mary froze. Her heart pounded so loud it filled the silence. She raised her hands slowly in surrender, her voice barely a breath.

"Please…"

Someone had slipped into her room without a sound. And now… now they were trying to take her.

Oh no. Mr. John? Had he not given up? Was he still trying to make her his mistress, even after her marriage?

"Please," she pleaded again, her voice shaking. "You must know I'm just an oddly looking girl with nothing to offer—"

The figure began to move, dragging her back step by step. Mary panicked. Would they toss her into a cart and disappear into the woods?

"I swear," she gasped, "I have no—"

"Silence," the voice hissed, clearly wanting her to keep quiet.

But beneath the sack, Mary blinked.

"No. You did not."

"Of course I did. What did you expect? Play along so I can kidnap you peacefully," the person said very seriously.

Mary paused, then somehow overpowered them and yanked the bag off her head.

When she turned and saw who it was, she didn't know whether to cry with relief or scold her.

"Bloody hell, Eloise. Why did you—"

The evening light spilled through the window, casting a soft glow on the black-haired girl standing there. Her hair whipped around her shoulders, just brushing her back.

Dark, charming eyes stared back at her, full of mischief. Her ivory skin glowed beneath the soft light, and she wore an outfit like she was visiting the stallion—white top under a tight bodice, a skirt, and brown boots.

"What are you?" Mary asked, squinting. "On your way to war?"

Eloise fumed, lips pouting as she clutched the bag tightly. "What do you think? I'm here to rescue you."

Mary closed her eyes. Of course–the letter. But how had Eloise come this early, just a day after?

"I must accolade you," Mary said, eyes flying open and a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. "You came all the way from Netherbrooke so quickly. Tell me, how did you get here so fast?"

Eloise paced the room, inspecting every corner. "I rode the horse. Took it from my cousins after I got the letter.

"Eloise, how can you take such a risk? You're a lady."

Mary walked up to her, matching her steps as she paced, still wondering what Eloise was searching for.

"It's a long and dangerous ride from home. Did your mama not stop you?"

"My mama doesn't know I'm here, Mary," Eloise said, turning as she let out a breath. "I only just heard of the old peer. You didn't even write to tell me that drat had been bothering you for a whole month. And then I heard you married a man who ruined you."

Her face was flushed pink as her eyes swept over her friend. "Heavens, Mary. I know you. I know it's impossible for any man to ruin you, let alone for you to allow it."

She turned again, heading to the edge of the room where Mary kept her luggages.

"What if I let him?" Mary moved toward her, but Eloise waved her off like nothing she said would change her mind.

"And whatever are you holding in that bag?"

"A weapon."

"A wea— Are you certain this is the right thing to do?"

Eloise whipped around. "Yes, it is. This strange man I've never met took my best friend to a neighborhood with no neighbors, right next to a cemetery. How does that make any sense?"

She crouched by Mary's luggage and began folding dresses with swift, angry hands. "We are leaving."

Mary crossed her arms. "But I'm married."

"To a man no one knows? Not even me?" she snapped. "Now Mary, put on a dress. We're leaving."

"But I can not." Mary sighed and perched on the edge of the bed, patting the empty space beside her. "Come sit with me, Eloise."

"Very well." Eloise dropped the folded clothes and made her way over. "Because I demand to know why you'd do something like this. Between the two of us, you've always been the smart one. I'm the one prone to foolish things."

Mary giggled. And the moment Eloise sat down, she threw her arms around her, catching her off guard.

"Oh, El, I've missed you. You went to visit your cousins and disappeared for a whole month."

"Which is why you went off to Mar—"

"El."

"Alright, alright. I missed you too," Eloise sighed, patting her back.

Now that she was close to Mary, the fear that had been gnawing at her finally faded. Hearing the rumors, and not being there when Mary had gone through all of it alone–had driven her straight to the Hathaways'. Her mother had told her everything, and it made her blood boil. Not just that they hadn't protected their only daughter, but that they didn't even know where she was living.

So the moment the letter came, Eloise didn't hesitate. She came here. And seeing this manor with her own eyes… she knew it. This place wasn't good for Mary. She had to get her out.

They pulled back from the hug. Mary touched her hand gently, rubbing her thumb across her skin. "I'm glad you came. I've longed to see you."

Eloise dropped the sack to the floor and held both of Mary's hands, squeezing them softly. "I'm glad too. But I mean it, Mary. I don't like what I'm seeing, and I am taking you out of here."

Mary began to recount the events of that night and how she'd met her husband, how he'd come to rescue her on her wedding day.

"You must've heard, El… I was to marry the old peer. This was the only way. Marrying my husband was my only escape." She paused, her voice quieting. "You know how it is—for women like us, we're allowed minds, but not motives of our own."

Eloise frowned at that. Not because it wasn't true, but because it was.

"There's a ball being hosted in town," she said firmly. "Good, eligible suitors will be there. I'm sure you could find someone better."

"But I already have a husband", Mary cried.

"A husband who gives me the creeps before I even met him?" Eloise muttered, standing abruptly and grabbing the sack. "Yeah, drat it. Stay right here."

Mary stood, alarmed. "What are you planning, Eloise?"

"I'm going to talk to your husband. He needs to let you go. You can't stay here, Mary. I won't allow it."

Before Mary could protest, Eloise was already out the door, walking fast down the dim corridor. The flickering lanterns cast ghostly shadows on the walls, and a chill crept under her feet. If she–who was the braver one–felt this way in this place, how much worse must it be for Mary?

"He chose a cemetery of all places," she hissed, shoulders squared and head high as she stormed down the corridor. "Where is that man?!"

The hallway was empty. Night was closing in, and the only person in sight was a black-haired girl creeping from shadow to shadow like a thief. She crouched by the staircase leading to the upper floor, eyes sharp and narrowed.

"If that strange man lays one more finger on my best friend," she muttered, "I'll rip his arm off and beat him with it."

She crept along the dim corridors, slipping past eerie portraits and antique statues that looked like they were watching her. Then...footsteps.

She ducked behind a pillar.

A tall figure emerged from the shadows, his face obscured. He wore a long dark cloak, moving silently toward a room down the hall.

The moment he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, a slow grin curved her lips.

"Got you."

She padded up quickly and pulled out the rope she had brought from the sack–of course she brought one. Then she slowly tiptoed to the door and opened it.

Inside it was a study, with a tall shelve lined with stuffed ancient books and rolled parchments. In the center, stood the white-haired man tracing a cracked, rune-covered object with long, smooth hands.

She couldn't see his face clearly—just the contours of his side profile—but a chill ran down her spine. She knew it. This was him. The one who lured and kidnapped her best friend.

She raised the rope.

The man didn't turn. Didn't even flinch.

CRACK!

Just as he turned to face the window, the rope flew around his chest and arms. Eloise leapt from behind and pulled with all her weight.

Now she had him.

Never. She would never let him go.

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