“There are matters I must attend to later today, yes.” His arms tightened around Celia’s waist. “But there is nothing in my life more important than you, sugarplum.”

Celia sighed in relief, her eyes dancing with mischievousness. “Then may I show my husband how much I appreciate his kind, generous nature?”

Gabriel grinned, desire roaring to life as it always did when he was near her. Tracing the outline of her mouth with his tongue, he gave her a heated kiss then said with a whisper, “I’m rarely kind, and I’ll take your gratitude while I’m seated at my desk. Now, on your knees, pet.”

CHAPTER 39

Celia waited until Gabriel was gone before making her way to the stables.

In her pocket was a gold bangle bracelet inlaid with three opals, two ten-pound notes, and a ripe, red apple.

The apple was for Arion, just in case she was questioned about being in the stables.

In the early afternoon hours, the large, sprawling building was a quiet place. The stable boys usually finished their chores well before the noon hour and now caught little naps where they could. The stablemaster was most likely in his office handling the business of paperwork while the grooms and coach drivers gathered in the mews, playing cards while waiting to be summoned to work.

Celia twisted her hands together as she made her way down the long aisleway leading to Arion’s stall. It was the spot where Bryan instructed her to meet him, but she was a day early. She wanted to get this over with. Indeed, the quicker the better. Once he had his money and a bit of jewelry, Celia hoped the man would be on his way. Leaving her alone forever.

She nearly screamed when a hand clamped over her mouth from somewhere behind her. Bryan’s fetid, alcohol-laced breath was instantly recognized as his arm wrapped itself around her waist. In this manner, he carried her to a darkened portion of the aisle where a ladder led up to one of the numerous haylofts. There was surprising strength in his thin form, evident in the scrawny muscles that held her hostage as he manhandled her.

Setting Celia down on her feet, Bryan held her close while also pushing her forward until her chin rested on one of the ladder’s rough, wooden rungs.

“Climb, milady,” he gritted between clenched teeth.

Celia hesitated, but when he squeezed his arm around her until she could barely breathe, and the hand over her mouth clamped down even tighter, tears sprung to her eyes. She nodded the best she could and gulped in great drafts of air when he released her.

Hand over hand, clutching her skirts, she ascended the ladder with Bryan close behind her in case she considered changing her mind. Once in the hayloft, Celia moved as far away as possible. Eventually, she stood before a huge hook at the end of a thick length of rope. It was part of a pulley system, used to swing bales of hay up to that level of the stables.