CHAPTER NINE
Maximilian sat at his desk, surrounded by stacks of documents and parchments, reviewing the intricacies of Powell's textile enterprise. His focus was divided, thoughts drifting to his upcoming wedding and the missing piece to his heart, yet to be identified.
Julian, entered the study, carrying a bundle of invitation parchments. "Brother, these require your attention. High society guests who hadn't received their invitations earlier."
Maximilian nodded, taking the parchments. "Thank you, Julian. Let's ensure everything is in order before I depart for my marital retreat."
As they sorted the invitations, a knock at the door interrupted their work.
"Enter," Maximilian called.
Their Father, Sir Clifford, burst in. His face flustered "Lads, dreadful news! Our shipment from the docks has been sabotaged."
Maximilian's gaze snapped up. "What?"
"Two cargo loads of woolen, ruined. The dockmaster's men are investigating," Their Father reported.
Julian's eyes widened. "Sabotage? Who could—"
Maximilian's expression turned grave. "This changes everything. Julian, send word to Worthington's and our business partners. We must assess the damage and respond swiftly."
As Julian hastened to comply. "Julian, wait," his father said, his voice firm "While the nuptial preparations continue unabated, it's essential one of us travels to assess the damage, confer with the authorities, and ensure a thorough investigation is underway.
Regrettably, my health precludes me from undertaking the journey. As Max is presently engrossed in his nuptial preparations, the task of traveling falls to you. And let us maintain confidentiality regarding this matter with our business partners, thereby facilitating the identification of the perpetrators."
Maximilian's thoughts racing with the secret despair over his impending marriage deepened as he faced the added burden of their business reeling from sabotage.
With his heart already lost to someone else, the thought of marrying another now seemed even more suffocating, and the sabotage's impact on their business only compounded his distress. He is now torn between duty and desire.
Julian nodded solemnly. "I'll take my leave now and begin making arrangements Father"
The study once filled with wedding preparations, now resonated with urgency and determination.
********
A man's eyes fluttered open, his mind foggy and disoriented. He lay on a cold, dusty floor, surrounded by darkness. The air was thick with the scent of decay and rot. A faint, flickering candle cast eerie silhouettes on the walls, making it seem as though the room itself was watching him.
His wrists and ankles were tied with coarse rope, securing him to the floor. A cloth stuffed his mouth, tied in place with a strip of fabric that dug into his cheeks. Panic set in as he realized the extent of his confinement.
He twisted and pulled against his restraints, but they held firm. Sweat beaded on his brow as he wrestled with the ropes, his fingers numb and tingling. The cloth in his mouth absorbed his cries, muffling his pleas for assistance.
As he struggled, the room seemed to spin, and his thoughts grew dizzy. Fear clawed at his chest, threatening to consume him. "Where is this?"
With a surge of adrenaline, he strained against the gag once more. A muffled cry escaped, echoing off the walls:
"Mmm...mmph!...Hhh...!"
The sound was swallowed by the darkness, leaving his ears ringing with the silence. His mind raced as he struggled against the ropes, his thoughts drifting back to the events leading up to his confinement.
He recalled the bustling streets of the market, where he had carefully selected a set of fine woolen jumper, overcoats and gloves for his journey. His valet handled his personal clothing and other needs, but as he grew older, he preferred to manage these tasks himself. Occasionally, their tailor would deliver what he needed, but the tailor was busy preparing garments for weddings. As a result, he decided to go to the market and shop for himself.The cooler climate of the north was foreign to him, and he wanted to be prepared. Maximilian, his brother, usually handled these travels, but this time Julian had been tasked with investigating the sabotage.
With his purchases secure in his carriage, Julian had climbed aboard, eager to return to Manorwood and finalize his travel arrangements. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the city.
As the carriage rolled through the streets, Julian's thoughts turned to the task ahead. Suddenly, the carriage halted. Julian's coachman, cried out in alarm.
Before Julian could react, men in black cloaks swarmed the carriage, their faces hidden behind dark hoods. Strong hands grasped Julian, pulling him from the carriage.
A cloth was pressed over his mouth, and Julian's world went dark.
Now, as he lay bound and gagged in this forsaken room, Julian's memories returned with clarity. The men in black, the sudden ambush.
He strained against the ropes once more, his anger and frustration boiling over.
"Who could had done this? Why?" Julian thought, his mind racing. "Where is his coachman?"Julian's thoughts turned to his coachman. Where was he now? Had he escaped the ambush or suffered a worse fate? The memory of his panicked cry still echoed in Julian's mind.
"I hope he is safe," Julian thought, anxiety gnawing at his heart. "He was with me in the carriage, but now I'm alone. Did they leave him unharmed or...?"
The candle's flame danced, casting eerie shadows on the walls as Julian's struggles continued.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed outside the room. Heavy, deliberate steps.
Julian's heart sank. His captors were returning
The door creaked open, and a figure loomed in the entrance. Tall, imposing, and shrouded in shadows. Julian's gaze locked onto the silhouette.
A second figure followed, carrying a lantern that cast flickering shadows on the walls. The light danced across Julian's face, making him squint.
The first figure stepped forward, its features slowly materializing. A chiseled jawline, piercing eyes, and a mouth set in a stern line as he carried a tray bearing a simple meal: bread, cheese, and a flask of water.