“Goodnight, Lord Rosenthorne.” She deliberately used his title and saw his eyes darken with her insolence. Quickly stepping away from the dining room’s entrance, she glanced back to see him resting a shoulder against one of the double door jambs.

The thunderous expression on Gabriel’s face was oddly assessing, but Celia dismissed it with a shrug. There were surely times over the course of their marriage when he would look at her as though his new wife vexed him a great deal.

She hoped Ivy understood her reticence to join the other ladies. The women who remained at Beaumont were eager to discuss every detail of the ceremony, small and intimate though it would be. Over the last two weeks, Celia managed a distant smile whenever the subject came up. She could not shake an impending sense that catastrophe was inevitable.

How surreal it was that she would be married soon. And to a man who was essentially a stranger. A handsome one, but a stranger, nonetheless. She wondered what type of husband Gabriel would be. Indulgent? Strict? Would he overlook her little quirks? Laugh at her need for a lamp burning by her bed so the room was not completely dark? Or would he hold her close and whisper in her ear until the shadows receded?

Celia was lost in thought as she walked down the softly lit corridor headed toward the room she was staying in. Worrying over such matters truly was giving her an awful headache. Rubbing her temples, she did not notice when one of the many guest room doors cracked open.

Before she had an opportunity to struggle, Celia was grabbed and pulled into a room. Hard hands held her fast, arms wrapping around her waist from behind and a hand quickly clamped over her mouth, muffling her surprised scream.

“Shhhh!” Lord Robert Harvey admonished in a low, aggravated voice. “It’s only me. Shhh, you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you?”

Dragging her further into the room, Robert reached behind him and pulled the door shut. The lock clicked into place.

They were alone now in an empty guest room with only a single lamp burning for illumination. Celia wiggled in the man’s tight grip and tried to breathe.

A quick rush of panic flooded her. It was crippling. A deafening roar filled her ears. For a second, she thought she might be incapable of moving a single muscle to free herself.

Her captor never noticed her distress, blithely explaining his actions as if Celia was a co-conspirator in his plans.

“Listen, I’m taking you away from here. It’s our only chance before that bastard drags you to the altar and shackles you to his side forever.” Robert breathed heavily, both from exertion and apparent adrenaline.

Celia’s head shook back and forth, her words muffled behind Robert’s hand.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. But do not thank me just yet. Wait until we are clear of the house and safely away from here. I’ve planned everything. In fact, my valet waits for us in the woods with horses for our journey.”