Page 10 of Only Scandal Will Do

“We are?” She stared at him, incredulous.

“Yes. Bow Street doesn’t usually take an interest in such things as kidnappings. But I am a cousin on your grandmother’s side. I was also your late uncle’s namesake--William is my second name--so he took an interest in me and my career here. That’s how Simons knew to contact me about your disappearance.”

Kat continued to stare, but relaxed a trifle as a glimmer of hope emerged. Perhaps this man would be able to help her after all. A relative would have only her best interests in mind. “That does indeed make a difference, Mr. Matthews. A connection, no matter how distant, is always a comfort.”

“Very well, my lady. Can you please describe the events of tonight in as much detail as possible, starting with your departure from your townhouse in St. James.”

“My brother and I were going to Lady Beaufort’s masquerade ball in Mayfair,” she began carefully. He might be a relation, but her trust had limits. “We left the house perhaps half past eight.”

“You were dressed as you are now?”

She gave him a baleful stare. “I was dressed in this gown, yes. It hardly looked as it does now.” He shifted uncomfortably at her censure, but she continued. “I also had a half mask of silver that they discarded when they--”

“Do not get ahead of your tale, my lady. How far had you gone when you were accosted?”

She scowled at his impertinent interruption. “I am not at all familiar with London, sir. I cannot tell you where they stopped the carriage. But we had been traveling perhaps ten minutes? We were near a stand of trees. Jack and I were planning to ride in one of the parks tomorrow and I was insisting we go into the countryside instead so that we could have a long gallop like we used to in Virginia.” She stopped abruptly, glanced away. “I told my brother just this morning I wished we had never left.”

Matthews took one of her hands and rubbed it. “I can see how that statement would now seem almost prophetic.”

Kat allowed him the liberty, until it reminded her of the man in the black cloak. Startled at the memory, she withdrew her hand and forced her thoughts away from that dangerous road. “You are kind, sir.”

“And then?”

“We heard horses approaching, but thought nothing of it. People do go about on horseback. But then the carriage slowed. Jack rapped on the trap and asked what was wrong. We heard a pistol shot, a dueling pistol, and...”

“Your brother mentioned this?”

Katarina clenched her hands into fists and pressed her lips together so tightly they hurt. “I mention it now, Mr. Matthews. I heard the shot myself, and in my opinion it was a dueling pistol, not a carriage pistol. I have fired enough of both to know the difference in the sound of the caliber.”

Matthews’s eyes widened and he peered at her as if studying her anew. “Your pardon, my lady. I had no idea you were schooled in weaponry. And after the shot was fired?”

His cool acceptance of her claim sent him up several notches in her estimation and mollified her somewhat. “The carriage stopped and both doors were jerked open. One man pulled Jack out and the other grabbed me. I heard my brother cry out, then nothing.”

Matthews inclined his head. “You fought them?”

“I tried. You may have gathered I am not one to easily acquiesce to force.” She flashed him a brief smile. “But I was taken by surprise and could not get to our pistols before they dragged me from the carriage. If I had, the evening might well have turned out differently.”

“What did the kidnappers look like?”

“I don’t know.”

His eyebrows rose then drew together. “You cannot tell me what they looked like?”

She shook her head and studied her hands in her lap. “They knocked me out. I woke up by myself in a strange room.”

Kat risked a glance at him. His incredulous stare said he had a hard time accepting her story. But a gentleman never called a lady a liar. Especially one to whom he was related.

“Can you describe the room? The furnishings? The walls?” His calm voice carried an undertone of frustration. She sympathized, but needed to stay her course.

“A small room. Plaster walls, nothing distinguishing. One window, but it had bars on it. Some little furniture.”

“A bed?”

She met his eyes, unflinching. “Assuredly.”

Matthews waited, but she continued her silence and stared at him, daring him to press her further. “What happened after the kidnappers left you?”

“I waited, I don’t know how long. Then I tried the door, and it opened.”