9781618859594HerDeviantLordPimentel (11 page)

Chapter Ten

Cordelia sighed at
the vanity while brushing her dark hair. In the looking glass, the candle light
flickered, creating an ambience that rivaled any other. The black silk and lace
chemise felt exquisite when she slid it over her contours.
Pity that the poor thing will be tattered in a matter of moments, once
Bastian lays eyes on it.

She waited for her
husband to return from the gaming room, and with any luck, he would not be too
foxed for some loving. After all these years, the heart ache, and foibles, she
was the luckiest woman alive. She had married the man that she loved and could
not think of anything more blissful, other than giving birth to Matthew.

The fire burned
with fervor, making her too hot. Perhaps it was her nerves, but something did
not feel right. A noise outside—much like crates tumbling down—somewhere below
her window, piqued her curiosity. Cordelia looked out but saw nothing out of
order. But then again, it was dark.

What could have made that noise?

Somewhere in the
manor, doors were opening and closing. A sound that was most welcoming. Her
husband would join her shortly, and they could begin making a life with each
other. Wedded bliss the second time around.

The bedroom door
opened and closed, and then her husband was leaning against the door, grinning
like a cat who had caught the prize rat.

“Look at who
decided to join me. How do I look, my lord?”

Bastian tried to
hide his amusement from her, but she could tell he was quite pleased.

“Ravishing, my
dear. The chemise is a work of art, however, if you do not remove it yourself,
it will end up torn.”

Just as I thought
. The scoundrel would
tear off her gown without a second glance. About to slide it off, she heard the
same noise again. “Bastian, I think someone is out there.”

“Who on earth
would be out here, touring the grounds, at this time of night?”

“How am I supposed
to know? I have really have a terrible feeling something is amiss, Bastian.”

He came up behind
her at the window, wrapping his arms around her. His chin rested on top of her
head, and he whispered, “Love, I know not what has you so worried. The
marquess
’ grounds are well-kept, and his house is soundly
locked down for the evening. I can promise you absolutely no one will intrude
upon us. Beatrice is with Matthew, and the rest of the manor has retired for
the evening. Nathaniel went to accommodating lengths to ensure we would have
this wing to ourselves for the night.”

“I know all of
that, dear, but what if that crazy woman is here. Watching the house, and
waiting for…”

“My dear, enough
of this nonsense.” He turned her around so that they now faced each other.
“Sweetling, what can I do to prove to you that we are alone?”

All Cordelia could
do was shrug. Her imagination was running rampant with a non-existent intrigue.
That woman would never dare break into the
marquess
’
home.
Or would she?

“There you go,
thinking again. My love, come to bed, and I will tell you my plans for
tomorrow, and then I will ravish you proper.”

Removing her gown,
she climbed under the sheets next Bastian, who disrobed as if he had less
clothing on than she. He pulled her into his embrace and squeezed her tight.
Everything felt so right in his arms that nothing could elude the moment or
make it devoid of love. Their passion is what Byron wrote about and Shakespeare
envied.

“My love, tomorrow
after breakfast, I will personally escort you and our son home. From there, you
will stay put until I return from checking on your family’s estate. I have it
on good authority that the grounds have been maintained, and the house is still
sound. After I have confirmed its condition and have arranged to have the staff
clean it in its entirety, we will relocate there.

“It is my hope
that once we are able to call it home, you will organize a dinner party. You
are, after all, my countess, and what better way to re-establish your previous
credibility than to make peace with society.”

The mere fact that
her husband was going to such lengths assured her that they were perfect for
each other. He made her feel special, a sentiment she had never experienced
with Richard. But that was a chapter in her life that she would never gaze upon
again. “While that sounds wonderful, my love, right now, I would prefer that we
make the most of our wedding night. After all, it could be days before I see
you again.”

“Very well, dear…
Now, where did I leave my cravat? I think we shall tie you to the bed tonight.”

Ah! Now, there is the Bastian I remember.

* * * *

Bastian rode hard
for the first few hours, but he knew he would never make it to the house in
Leicester in time for sunset. Instead, he turned on the road that would take
him to Northampton. Hopefully, he would find a staging inn not filled to
capacity for the evening.

When he changed
paths, he noticed another rider following from afar. Bastian goaded his black
horse into galloping until he disappeared into a thick treeline. For whatever
reason, his instinct warned him not to trust the rider.

But why would anyone follow me? This does not add up.
It had been years since he had kept up with ill company. He did not
owe any debts from when he last visited White’s or through some other private
affairs he had with the few gents.

Besides, ever
since Cordelia and Matthew had returned to his life, he had not been out much.
Save for only a few drinks with the Marquess of Stoughton and the Earl of
Avonlea.

Bastian calmed his
mount and watched the rider come to a halt and climb down from his horse. The
stout man with brown, scraggly hair grumbled and uttered oaths. He certainly
did not appear familiar.
Which means
someone hired him, but who?

The curious earl
hid behind a tree and waited for the man to pass him before tackling him to the
ground. He pinned the man face-down in the dirt and fallen leaves. “Why are you
following me? Who hired you?”

The stranger
struggled but conceded to the weight pressing down on him. “That bit o’ muslin
wanted me to keep you busy, is all. She had matters to take care of, and did
not want your interference, guvnor.”

“What is your
meaning?” Bastian growled, trying to figure out what the man was saying. “What
woman are you talking about?”

“She said her name
was Mary,” he choked out.

“Did she make any
mention as to plan?”

“No, sir, only
that she was going to take exception with a certain lady and make sure she was
permanently removed from the
situation
.”

Bastian could only
see red. His chest tightened with fear. Mary Elizabeth intended to harm his
countess.
Good heavens…Matthew!
He
had to get back to the house promptly. The estate in Leicester would have to
wait, or he could send his servants to clean and properly stock the wares if
needed.

Home
. He needed to get home and swiftly.
He would kill the bloody woman if he had to, but there was no chance that she
would walk away from this without getting her comeuppance.

He climbed back on
his steed and rode hard, not stopping until he reached the outskirts of town
where the
marquess
and his family lived in peace.
Bastian pounded on the door until a servant answered, sleepy eyed. “How can I
help you, my lord? The family is asleep—”

“What in damnation
is all that noise about, Duncan?” Nathaniel came into sight and scowled when he
saw the earl standing there. “There had better be a
demmed
good reason for this visit, Wycliffe.”

“The blasted chit
has gone and done it now. I fear for Cordelia and Matthew’s safety. She hired a
criminal to track me and keep me distracted while she eliminated a
problem
.”

The
marquess
groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Will
this madness ever end? Duncan, have my horse readied. I shall see what my
connections on Bow Street can do for you, Bastian, but I cannot promise you
anything.”

“Your help is more
than I expected, Nathaniel. I must be off. I have to make sure they are safe.”

Nathaniel nodded,
and his butler closed the door behind him.

Riding home had
never felt so agonizing. Words could not begin to express what he would do if a
hair on either of them was harmed. How anyone could take their vengeance on an
innocent person and child was beyond him.

As he approached,
he heard the fire brigade’s bells ringing furiously and saw flames reaching
into the sky. Upon closer inspection, he found his townhouse ablaze. Neighbors,
servants, and spectators crowded into the street.

Cordelia! Matthew!

His heart sank and
crushed under the weight of excruciating fear until he saw his butler and
housekeeper in the street shivering.

“My lord, we do
not know what happened.”

“Where are my wife
and son?”

“We do not know.
Beatrice has taken Matthew to her family’s home, but the countess we have not
seen since supper.”

Somewhere behind
him, he heard his name being called. When he turned, there was Nathaniel and a
runner.

“We are so glad we
found you. We ran into a few lads who say they saw someone who looked like the
countess accompanied by another woman headed down the street to a waiting
hackney. Is Matthew…”

Bastian shook his
head and blinked furiously at how surreal this situation had become. “Matthew
was taken to our nursemaid’s home for safekeeping. As soon as Cordelia has been
recovered, I will collect him.”

“Allow me to take
them into my protection, Bastian. Your servants too. They will need a warm
place to stay.”

How could he
refuse the generous offer? “Certainly. I will be along as soon as I can. I
cannot rest until I have found her.”

His butler and
housekeeper approached. “My lord, I am certain the countess is fine. I know it
deep in my heart.”

Let us hope so. As I am in no mood for games.

* * * *

Cordelia shook her
head. Groggy, sore, and in disbelief, pain riddled her from head to toe. The
gag made her mouth dry, and she would kill or beg for mercy if it meant she
could have a drop of water.

The last thing she
remembered was that dreadful woman sneaking up behind her in the bedroom. Mary
Elizabeth had attempted to choke her. When the countess had slapped the mad
woman away, she had taken a lit candle and set the bed and curtains ablaze.
After starting a fire in the kitchen, the witch had managed to sneak up the
stairs undetected.

Cordelia glared at
her surroundings, trying to determine where she was. Nothing looked familiar,
nor did the view from outside the window. She could hear the morning hustle and
bustle below in the street, which meant she could not have gone too far from
home and that she was near enough to the market.

The only question
occupying her thoughts was Matthew’s safety, followed quickly by
Bastians
’.
Good
heavens…if Bastian had returned last night to find the home afire, he would be
having an apoplectic fit. He would be guilt-ridden for having left us alone.
She could not bear the thought of having a life that did not include either one
of them.

She was convinced
that this was her punishment for her affair with Bastian. It had to be. What
else could this purgatory mean?

While deep in a
flurry of thoughts about her husband and son, Mary Elizabeth joined her,
setting a pistol down next to her on the sideboard. Then, she stalked toward
Cordelia and ripped the gag from her mouth before occupying a chair across from
the countess.

“What is it that
you want from me?” Cordelia screamed, struggling against her restraints.

The woman merely
laughed. “The truth is that I do not want anything from you. What I want is for
you to die. It appears to be the only way I will be rid of you, once and for
all. The earl is mine. We were perfectly matched, until you decided to return
to town. With you out of the picture, I will be able to pick up the pieces from
where we left off.”

“You are mad!”

“Maybe a touch,
but after this, you will never see him again.”

“If you love him
so much, why would you seek to hurt him so? Why would steal his wife from him
and kill his son?”

Her captor winced
at her words.
 
“You lie!” she shrieked.
“Bastian has no children. At least not yet. Once we are together, married, and
happily situated away from London, we shall have all the children he wants.”