Andrea laughed heartily. “There’ll be time enough for that once we get her to Vannone’s hut.” He whipped his horse about, and waved to Giacomo. They left her soaked, bedraggled riding hat lying trampled at the side of the road.
Cassie smelled wet, sweat-soaked wool. She gagged and tried to wrench herself away from the stench, but a strong hand pressed hard against her back.
“Make yourself easy, my girl,” she heard a man say. “It won’t be long now.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but a sharp pain in her jaw held her silent. She discovered she was flung like a sack of grain face down over a saddle, her face pressed against the man’s thigh. She tried once again to jerk herself free, and the man pulled viciously at her hair, until she cried out.
“Hold still,” came a snarling command. She felt the man’s hand move downward from the small of her back, until he probed roughly at her buttocks through her thick cloak. She froze, every thought suspended, and swallowed convulsively, fear and bile rising in her throat. Dear God, where was Joseph? She remembered the two shots that had echoed off the hills, and closed her eyes tight against her mounting terror.
She fought against growing nausea and spasmodic pain that gnawed at her belly from the jolting horse’s gallop. It had stopped raining and the gray afternoon shadows had lengthened before she heard the shout of a man and felt the horse beneath her come to a halt.
“Bring her in, I’ll light the lamps.” It was a man’s loud voice.
Her fear made her wily, and she forced her stiff muscles to go limp when she was pulled from the saddle. She thought the man believed her to have fainted for he held her loosely with but one arm about her waist. Without warning, she twisted wildly in his grasp and smashed his face with her fist. He howled, and she was suddenly free, stumbling away from him, running blindly into the growing darkness.
She felt a tremendous weight strike her back, and she went hurtling to the ground, breathless. A man’s heavy body covered her, grinding her into the earth. She heard a deep, throaty laugh close to her ear. “Giacomo is right, you are a feisty wench. More’s the pleasure for us, my fine lady.”
Cassie was jerked to her feet, her arms twisted behind her. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out, to deny them the pleasure of hearing her pain. They dragged her up rotted wooden steps through the open door of a small cabin and shoved her inside. She staggered forward and sprawled to her knees.
“Madonna.” Joseph’s anguished voice restored her to reason, and she jerked her head toward him.
He stood in the far corner of the room, his arms held by two men. There was a wide red stain spreading down his shirt.
“My God, Joseph, you are hurt.” She struggled to her feet, but the huge burly man flung her back to the floor.
“Leave her alone, you stinking pigs!” Cassie heard pain beneath the fury in Joseph’s shout. She had to help him—somehow.
She looked up at the huge man, whose hooded face made him all the more terrifying, for he seemed faceless. “Do you not realize who I am?” she said in a cold voice. “In case you do not, I am betrothed to Anthony Welles, the master of the Villa Parese. If it is money you want, you shall have it, but only if we are returned unharmed. I demand that you release us at once.”
Andrea appeared thoughtful for a moment. He stroked his jaw and turned to the other men. “Well, my lads, what do you think of the lady’s offer?”
“I’ll tell you what I think of the little bitch.” Cassie had no time to pull out of Giacomo’s way, for he stood over her. His booted foot smashed against her ribs, and she doubled over, violent pain ripping her chest. She heard a ragged curse from Joseph, and then a strange, soft whimper. The whimper, she realized dimly, came from deep in her throat.