"You gave me some kind of medication that made me-"

"A little something to enhance your wonderful, natural sensuality. That's all, Sunny. That combined with the opiates should have worked to increase your willingness to surrender to your deepest desires." Suddenly he looked sad. It made him appear much older. "I had hoped you would surrender to those desires with me. But your mind proved too rebellious."

Sunny hugged herself and rubbed her shoulders. "Oh, heavens," she whispered under her breath.

She wished she hadn't asked about the medication. She wished she hadn't felt the need to know that bit because now it made the whole thing seem far more horrific than it ever had before.

She was standing alone with the most dangerous and devious person she had ever known.

She couldn't help making another plea to his better nature. If he had one at all. "Please, just let me leave."

His gaze sharpened. "What about little Ailise?"

"Yes, let me and Ailise go."

Meeker's face wrinkled with concern. "I just want to have supper with you, Sunny. Is that so terrible?"

She needed time for Ailise to escape. "I am not very hungry," she said as if in doubt.

"Don't be petulant, Sunny."

"What do you want from me-I mean ultimately, what do you expect to gain from luring me here today?"

His silver brows raised. "I should think that is obvious, Sunny. I want you in my bed, at my mercy. But first, a little romance. "

She wanted to say that rape didn't require romance, but why force his hand if Ailise might return with help?

"As you wish," she said.

"First, you need a bath," he said.

She rolled her shoulder in a sign of acceptance then watched him walk to the bell pull with her heart pounding in her ears.

Soon there was a knock on the door and at Meeker's order, Sam appeared and he and two other men brought a hipbath and heated water.

And then she was alone again with Meeker. "Surely you do not expect me to bathe in front of you?"

"I hate false modesty."

Her heart rate accelerated. "I hate to be leered at in the tub."

His black stare cut into her, chilling her to the bone. But she kept her chin high and met his gaze.

Finally he broke the stare. "Very well, you have half an hour. "

"I can't possibly bathe properly in half an hour!"

His gaze narrowed. "Forty-five minutes will have to do. But Sunny, I hope this is not a sign of things to come. As I said, I loathe false modesty and other female machinations."

Once alone, she breathed a sigh of relief. Oh please, dear God, let me stall for enough time to allow Ailise to make it to safety.

Meeker had underestimated her.

Everyone always did.

But this time being underestimated, being seen as meek and quiet and helpless, had worked in her favor.

She sat on the bed and lifted her skirts to reveal the small pistol she had strapped to her thigh with several garters. She pulled back the covers on the bed and crawled underneath them, pulling the coverlet up to her chin.

And waited.

Chapter Thirty-Two.

Sunny jumped at the creak of the door opening. Surely, Ailise had escaped. If she hadn't, Meeker would have burst into the room angry. She watched as he stepped into the doorway. First, his gaze went to the hiptub, then the table. Lastly, the bed. He couldn't possibly discern her face in the shadows, but she slitted her eyes, nonetheless.

He crept inside and quietly closed the door. Beneath the covers, Sunny gripped the pistol with both hands. After getting into bed, she'd been up twice, undecided if perhaps having dinner with him wasn't a better idea. She'd even tried the door. But, as expected, it was locked.

Ailise needed time to escape. But between requesting scented bath oil and powder-and then fretting that the coarse linen towels would make her skin too raw and that she absolutely must have something softer-Sunny had managed to drag her bath out until an hour had passed. Surely that was more than enough for Ailise to get far away from this horrible place. The longer she stalled Meeker, the better her chances of rescue. In the end, however, she realized she couldn't risk him taking the pistol from her-nor could she risk losing her nerve. Most important, she couldn't risk him going after Ailise. Her only advantage was the element of surprise.

Meeker took a candle from the table and approached the bed. Sunny started to close her eyes to feign sleep, then feared him getting too close before she shot him. He neared and their gazes met.

His cold black eyes glittered with lust.

Sunny's stomach lurched.

He set the candle on the bedside table on his side of the bed.

She began to tremble. Could she really do it, could she shoot a man? The pistol would make a fearsome noise. It would alert Sam and that leather-faced matron. She'd have mere moments to dash down the stairs and escape.

He gazed down at her.

Her stomach roiled with revulsion.

"I can't believe you are finally here, where you were meant to be," he said those dark eyes still devouring her. "I am going to be so good to you, Sunny. I will take care of you." He braced one knee on the bed. The mattress rocked as he placed his other knee on the mattress.

Heart thundering in her ears, Sunny drew the pistol from beneath the covers and leveled it on him.

His eyes widened.

She aimed at the center of his chest. Pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Her heart stopped.

He gaped at her.

"I warn you, I know how to use this."

Meeker's expression eased into the slightest of smiles. "Where would you have ever learnt how to use a pistol?"

"James taught me."

Suddenly, Meeker didn't look so certain. "Don't be foolish. You don't want to do anything to cast further doubts on your sanity."

Then she remembered something from a lurid novel of highwaymen that she'd once read. She must ready the weapon.

With her thumb, she drew back the hammer. Nothing.

"Sunny, what are you doing?"

Her teeth rattled.

The hammer clicked into place.

Meeker went white. "Now Sunny, don't be rash. All right, so you're not ready, you'd like to leave for tonight, you want to think on matters-"

"Yes, I want to leave. Now." She leveled the pistol with his heart. Her hands shook.

"Sunny, you're not capable of actually shooting a man."

"Yes, I think I am."

"No, I am your doctor, I know everything there is to know about-"

She closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger.

The force of the weapon firing rocked through her, the sound exploded in her ears. She dropped the pistol.

Meeker fell backwards off the bed.

She began to shake hard, bone jolting quaking. Her mind screamed for her to run, but her body didn't obey. She couldn't bring herself to even open her eyes.

A few moments passed and she managed to open her eyes. She pushed onto her knees and crept to the edge of the bed. Meeker came into sight, lying motionless on the carpet.

His face was ashen-gray. Bright red blood poured from a wound near his shoulder.

Heavens!

He wasn't dead. Only knocked cold from the impact of the bullet with his shoulder.

She sucked in her breath and backed away on the mattress. She fell off onto the floor, then leapt up. Her feet tangled with her chemise. She stumbled, then righted herself and dressed only in her chemise, fled the chamber.

Chapter Thirty-Three.

Pistol at the ready in each hand, James winced when the stair beneath his left foot creaked. He paused, straining for any sounds of life in the dilapidated house. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. It was nothing short of a miracle that Ailise had reached Greythorn House from Whitechapel. He hadn't waited for an explanation of how she'd managed it, but when she told him Meeker held Catriona prisoner had ridden like the devil was after him to get here.

He had easily broken in through a window and had searched the sitting room and kitchen downstairs, but found them deserted. A deathly quiet hung in the air. Fear rammed through him. If Meeker had taken Catriona away-he cut off the thought and started up the stairs again.

James reached the landing and surveyed the doors. Dim light appeared beneath only one of them and he went to it then kicked it open.

A large bed dominated the chamber and a heavyset matron bent over a man's body. She mopped his forehead with a cloth. Scarlet blood streaked the white sheets and the man was pale and looked very old. James took a step closer and recognized Meeker.

He edged a step closer, then halted at a muffled cry to his right. He jerked in that direction and saw Catriona, tied to a hard backed chair. She wore only a torn shift and a cloth was tied around her mouth. Her wide eyes held his. Fury swept through him.

Heavy footfalls sounded in the corridor. James whirled. A short, stout man rushed through the doorway at him. James fired. The man stumbled. James glimpsed the dark stain spreading across his dirty shirt over his heart in the instant before he dropped to the carpet.

The matron jumped to her feet, screaming as she ran to the fallen man. "Sam! Oh God, Sam!"

James thrust the discharged pistol into his waistband and sidled over to Catriona, one eye on the woman. He reached her and saw the small silver pistol that sat on a table beside her. He stuffed the pistol into his waistband and pulled out the knife he'd slid into the side of his boot. He cut the rope binding her to the chair.

"You've killed him," the woman wailed, but James ignored her and pulled Catriona up to his side. She seized the gag and dragged it up over her head, then threw it to the ground.

James yanked the loaded pistol from his waistband and pivoted toward Meeker.

"James," Catriona cried.

He took two steps toward the bed and aimed the weapon at the unconscious man.

"No!" Catriona's shout sounded in unison with the discharge of the pistol-and she shoved his arm upward.

He spun on her. "You would save him?"

She looked up at him, eyes large. "No," she said quietly. "I would save you."

He stared. Did she mean- She touched his sleeve. "Please, I want to leave."

Tears moistened her eyes.

James took her home.

Sunny sat back against the squabs in James' carriage, weak with relief, her mind and emotions swirling too quickly for her to catch any of them.

"When we reach Greythorn house, I will call for the magistrate. Meeker will hang."