Scandal of the Season (24 page)

“You saved her life,” he mumbled.

“She saved me from losing another child.” She looked over at him. “While I can’t raise her, at least she is only next door. If I want to see her, I can. Now how exactly did you come to meet Victoria?”

He explained how they had come to meet each other after his first arrival at the brothel. Then he told her about the rest of the story. A slice of guilt cut into him when he thought about the way he’d treated Victoria this morning.

“So was she your mistress in truth or only pretend?” his mother finally asked.

“I would prefer not to answer that question.”

“Then I believe I have my answer.” She shook her head and stared at her green silk skirts. “Tell me something, were you furious when you saw Bronwyn because you found out you had a bastard? Or because you thought she had kept it from you?”

“The latter. If I had a child, I would do everything in my power to raise the child myself.” Just as Nicholas had done with his daughter. Anthony respected Nicholas for his decision, especially after seeing what Sophie went through due to their father.

“Are you in love with her?”

He knew the answer but refused to answer the question. “It does not matter.”

She pressed her lips together and looked up to the ceiling. “Yes, it truly does matter, Anthony. If your father had loved me, honestly loved me, my life would have been very different.”

“Do you regret your decision?”

“Some days,” she answered slowly. “I made a choice. It might not have been the best decision I could have made, but it was
my
decision.”

“Tell me about Bronwyn,” he said, wanting to know more about his newest sister.

“Victoria has done an excellent job with her. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to raise her.”

“I should have realized by her name that she wasn’t Victoria’s child. You named her after your mother.” Anthony owed Victoria a huge apology. And once he finished speaking with his mother, he would go to her. But there was something bothering him about all this mess.

“Mother, I don’t understand how Bronwyn can look so much like Genna. I mean it’s uncanny. And yet, Genna has more of Father’s darker looks than your fairer appearance.”

Her cheeks turned red. “I never said Bronwyn was your half sister.”

“Oh bloody hell, you let him f—”

“Do not say that word in front of me,” she ordered. “Your father has visited here a few times in the past eighteen years.”

“You have no reason to be with him.”

“He is still my husband, Anthony. As such, if he chooses to demand his husbandly rights, I cannot refuse.”

He watched his mother’s face go completely red. “You don’t want to refuse him, do you? Oh hell, you still love him.”

She shrugged. “Only slightly. I will admit I enjoy the time he spends with me. But I like it even more when he leaves. Your father and I are volatile together, which while enjoyable in bed is not the best recipe for marriage.”

Anthony stood and returned to the window. “Does he know about Bronwyn?”

“No,” she replied. “If I had told him then he would have brought her to his home with Genna. Then I never would have seen my daughter again. I lost one daughter, I will not lose another.”

He could not fault her. The burning sensation that ate at him when he thought he had lost nine years of his daughter’s life could not compare to the reality that she faced every day. And while most people would condemn her for leaving her husband, he knew she’d felt betrayed by the man she loved.

“I still do not understand how you can let him into your bedroom after what he put you through.”

“Can you honestly tell me if you were to marry today, you could forget about Victoria? Would you still think about the things you did together? Still dream about how she felt? How she kissed?”

“I would prefer not to discuss this with my mother,” he said harshly.

“But yet you are interrogating me on my private life.”

“Touché,” he replied. “It does not matter. I will find a wife and be faithful to her.”

“And yet in your dreams, you will only see Victoria,” his mother whispered.

“Stop,” he ordered. “You are the person who told me marriage to a respectable woman would solve my problems.”

“That was before you fell in love.”

“I never said I was in love,” he retorted.

His mother laughed. “You don’t have to say a word, Anthony. Since you arrived in my room, you have looked over at her house so many times I lost count.”

Anthony closed his eyes and rested his head on the window frame. “A carriage pulled up and I was just curious who was calling on her.”

“And did you recognize the coach?”

“It looks like Lady Farleigh.” His brows furrowed. How did Hannah know Victoria’s identity? She’d wanted no one to learn her real name.

“Oh, I saw her sister three days ago,” his mother said offhandedly.

“Lady Farleigh’s sister? Lily Hatfield?”

“Yes, she was at the drapers. She was thrilled because her new doctor finally decided she needed to eat more meat even though she does not care for it. Once she started, her fatigue disappeared, and she has been in much improved health.”

Anthony swallowed and stared at the coach. Nicholas had told him that Hannah relayed to him that her sister was dying and that’s why she was at the inn and on her way to London.

“Anthony, whatever is the matter?”

He looked down once more and noticed Hannah clutching Victoria’s arm and all but pushing her into the carriage. Oh hell, Hannah was Hardy’s accomplice.

“Victoria’s being kidnapped.”

Victoria attempted to twist out of Hannah’s grip but the woman was stronger than she appeared. Knowing Victoria had no one to help her out of this mess, she aimed for Hannah’s toes. Stomping her heel down on the woman’s foot only led to a fierce elbow jab to Victoria’s ribs.

“You little bitch, just get in the carriage before I kill you right here,” Hannah rasped.

“Then do it,” Victoria taunted. “But then you won’t have whatever it is you’re looking for, will you?”

Victoria could only assume they wanted the note Somerton had taken from Hardy. The door to the carriage opened and Hardy stared down at her with a gleam in his eyes.

“Maybe all we want is you,” he replied.

Terror struck her when Hardy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the carriage. “Let me go,” she screamed, praying someone would hear her.

She fell onto the floor of the carriage. Hannah kicked her legs out of the way and sat down. The coach rolled away from the only home Victoria had ever truly loved. Only the children knew what had happened. Maggie had gone to the butcher’s to buy some beef for a stew and Victoria doubted the scullery maid had heard anything.

She scrambled to the seat across from Hardy. No matter how scared she truly became, she could not let them see her fright. Thankfully, she had remembered to snatch her reticule before Hannah could drag her out of the house. Somerton had never removed his pistol from it. Now, she had a pistol loaded with one shot, but two people were in the coach.

Hannah might be unarmed, but Victoria couldn’t take that chance. The woman had threatened to kill Victoria in front of her own home. Hardy most likely had a pistol and the driver might too. At some point, there was a possibility that she could be left alone with just one of them. She had to concentrate on that thought.

“Would one of you tell me what this is all about?” she finally asked.

Hannah shook her head slightly. “We will discuss this in private.”

“When?”

“When we get where we are going,” Hardy said in a rough voice.

Hannah glared at him. “Don’t yell at her. This is all your fault, you spineless bastard. If you could have kept your mind on the goal and not
her
, this would never have happened.”

“I can’t help myself,” Hardy said hoarsely. “Everyone knows I like my women small and blond. She even has blue eyes. Just thinking about her sitting here in the same carriage is getting me hard.”

“You are an utter pig,” Hannah replied. “Once again, you are thinking with that head,” she pointed to the bulge in his trousers, “instead of your brain.”

Victoria went silent and tried to look out the slit in the window covering. Seeing what appeared to be buildings, she assumed they had not left town. After numerous turns, the carriage rolled to a stop.

Hardy turned his attention on her. “You will walk out of this carriage and up those stairs like a lady. Not that you are one, but you can pretend once more, can’t you? When we get inside, you will say nothing to anyone or I will shoot you right there.”

“Where are we?” she asked, glancing up at the large home.

Hannah smiled. “You really don’t need to concern yourself over where we are.”

“Why not?”

“Your only concern should be what we plan to do with you,” Hardy said with a sneer.

Victoria swallowed down her fear. She would figure a way out. She had to because the only other choice would be death.

They walked inside the magnificent home after the butler opened the door for them.

“Good afternoon, Lady Farleigh, Mr. Hardy.” He waited for an introduction.

“This is a new one for His Grace.”

His Grace?
Which duke could they be speaking of?

The butler pursed his lips but nodded. “Very well, then. Take her up to his other room.”

A new slice of fear cut down her back as they escorted her up the stairs. Tossing a door open, they walked into a room with a large bed in the middle and a long table to the side.

“Tie her to the bedpost to start,” Hannah ordered Hardy.

Hardy shoved Victoria up against one of the posts and tied her hands tightly behind her back. He grabbed the reticule and tossed it on the bed. The ropes cut into her skin as she tried to twist out of them.

“Don’t bother,” Hannah said with a laugh. “Hardy used to be a sailor so he knows how to tie a knot.”

“What is this about, Hannah?” Victoria demanded. “I should at least know where I am and why!”

“I think you know exactly why you are here.”

Pain struck her cheek where Hannah hit her. “I don’t know why I am here,” she cried out.

“Where is the note you picked from Hardy?” Hannah’s hot breath stung Victoria’s cheek.

“I did not take any note from Hardy,” she said.

“Of course you did,” he said. “Luckily, the first one was only a letter to my mother.”

Seeing the look of shock she couldn’t hide, he continued, “Did you think I was stupid? I had already checked the study when you returned and put the letter by the chair.”

“I never did that,” she cried.

“Do you think we are fools?” Hannah walked past her. “Now where is it?”

“I do not have any note.”

Hannah laughed coarsely. “I never thought you had it. I want to know who you gave it to, Somerton or Ancroft?”

She could not tell them. There was no doubt in her mind that they would kill Somerton. But if she didn’t they would kill her.

“Neither,” she replied.
Think, Victoria! Think!
Who else might want that missive? “Your husband wanted it, Lady Farleigh. He wanted to know what you were about, sneaking around with Hardy.”

“Liar,” she said and slapped Victoria even harder than before. “Farleigh knows nothing about this. I guess we will wait for Maldon to get the information out of you. He will have you talking in no time.”

“The Duke of Maldon?” she whispered. She had heard of his depraved ways from some of the women next door.

Hardy walked closer to Hannah. “Can’t I have her just once before the duke? I promise, he’ll never know. I will take her arse.”

Hannah slapped Hardy. “No one uses her until His Grace says they can.”

Victoria swallowed down the lump of fear in her throat. They planned to rape her to get the information. And even if she gave them Somerton’s name, she was certain they would still do the same. For the first time since Hannah stormed into her home, a sense of hopelessness invaded her.

Hardy finally left after an hour of suggestive taunts meant only to scare her. Hannah sat in a small chair near the fireplace.

“Hannah, why are you doing this?”

Hannah turned her gaze from the fireplace to Victoria. “You of all people should understand.”

“But I don’t.”

“When Farleigh married me, he lost his reputation. The
ton
believed he was a fool for marrying his mistress, especially since I was a former prostitute. I love my husband and want only the best for him. When Maldon reigns, I will be the leader of the
haute ton
because of my friendship with him. People will look to me for social acceptance.”

“And if your plan fails?” she asked softly, not wanting to get Hannah upset, only help her see the reality of the situation.

“But it will not fail. You did not stop us.”

“Then why do you need the note?”

“We don’t need the note, you fool. Hardy read it. Now we just need to tie up all the loose ends.”

“And that would be me?”

“Yes—and whoever else read that note.”

Victoria was still confused on one thing. “What does Hardy get out of this?”

Hannah cackled. “A title. Maybe even a duchy. What man wouldn’t love that?”

Victoria could think of no way to stop them now. She had to keep Somerton’s name out of this but wondered how she could if they threatened her with rape. If they discovered Somerton’s name, they would find the note and kill him.

She could not let that happen.

Anthony raced down the stairs of the brothel, dodging a man attempting to take one of the ladies up the steps. He had to get outside and save her. As he ran out the door, he noticed the plain black carriage turn the corner to George Street. He climbed up on his phaeton and urged the horse on.

Most of the delivery carts were gone by now so his only impediments were the pedestrians and carriages headed out for a day of shopping. When he turned the corner to George Street, he scanned the road for the carriage. Most of the coaches looked similar.

Desperate for some sign of which way they had gone, he continued down George Street and then continued to Hanover Square. He stopped at Farleigh’s home in the square only to find the footman had not seen Lady Farleigh since they left the house in November for their estate.

They must have gone to Hardy’s house. Dammit. He had to find her before it was too late. The ride to Hardy’s modest house seemed interminable. Carts and wagons slowed him down and a sense of dread permeated the air around him.

A footman opened the door to Hardy’s house. “Good afternoon.”

“Get out of my way, man,” Anthony said hoarsely. “Where is your master?”

“Mr. Hardy left the house a week ago and has not returned.”

If Hannah and Hardy had not returned to their homes, where the hell were they staying? Not trusting the young man, Anthony searched the lower level and raced up the steps. Hearing the heavy feet of two footmen following him, Anthony headed to the bedrooms. Every room he searched came up empty.

The footmen caught him as he left Hardy’s bedroom. After dragging him down the stairs, they thrust him out the door and slammed it behind him. Anthony tumbled down the three brick steps.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Anthony stumbled to his feet, ignoring the sting of the cuts on his hands and knees. He looked up to see Brentwood staring down at him.

“Hardy and Lady Farleigh took Victoria,” he mumbled and then headed for his phaeton. He had no idea where to look next but he could not give up.

“Who the bloody hell is Victoria? And didn’t Ainsworth tell you that you were done with this case?”

“Victoria is Mrs. Smith. The lady with me at Farleigh’s party.”

“Oh hell,” Brentwood said. “How is Lord Farleigh connected to this mess?”

Anthony stopped and looked around. “I have no idea. He is too far removed from the line of succession. Why would he care who became king?”

“Maybe he is not involved?” Brentwood offered. “Lady Farleigh may be doing this for her own benefit.”

Anthony pounded his fist on the edge of the phaeton startling the horse. “Lady Farleigh has never been accepted by the
ton
.”

“Oh hell,” Brentwood said again. “But if she is in close with the next king then her station would greatly improve. The
ton
would have to accept her.”

“Exactly.” Anthony walked to his horse to calm her down. “So who else is involved? There is someone much higher in rank who is in control.”

“I don’t know,” Brentwood admitted with a shrug. “What are we missing?”

“I don’t know but I have to find Victoria before they hurt her.”

“Let me help you, Somerton. Ainsworth said you were the best, and I could learn from you.”

Anthony stared at the younger man and nodded. “Very well, then. We need to go to Miss Reynard’s home.”

“The matchmaker?”

“Yes.”

“Ma’am, you have two visitors,” Hendricks announced.

Sophie looked up from her book and frowned. She had no clients scheduled until tomorrow and her friends had all claimed to be busy today. But a sense of trepidation had been with her all day.

“Who is it?”

“Lord Somerton and Lord Brentwood, ma’am.”

Why would Somerton have brought Brentwood here? The hair on the back of her neck prickled. “Send them in and bring us tea, please.”

“Yes, miss.”

Within a moment, she heard the hard booted footfall of her half brother followed by a lighter step. As soon as Somerton entered the room, she knew Victoria was in trouble.

“Oh Lord,” Sophie said, seeing the pain in his eyes. “What happened?”

Brentwood stared at them as Somerton explained what he’d seen this morning. Sophie looked at her brother not wanting to tell him of the dread she’d felt since this morning.

“Do you have anything of hers on you?” she asked.

“Why?”

“Because while you two are emotionally connected, I still need something from her to help her. Just your emotions are not enough right now.”

He pulled out a hairpin from his waistcoat and gave it to her.

“Thank you.” She held the pin in her hand and clasped his hand with hers. Closing her eyes, she waited for the slight dizziness that always accompanied the sight.

“She is in a very large home. Elegant.”

“Where, Sophie?” Somerton pressed. “I need to know where.”

“Shh.” Sophie concentrated on the image in her mind. “The house is in Mayfair. The word duke keeps coming to me but I don’t know why.”

The image slowly faded. “I’m sorry, Somerton. That’s all I could see.”

“How the bloody hell does she do that?” Brentwood muttered.

“Miss Reynard, this is Lord Brentwood. He does some occasional work for Mr. Ainsworth,” Somerton said.

“So I expect I will see you from time to time when you need assistance?”

Brentwood’s mouth gaped. “You mean this is where you get the information no one else is able to find?” he said to Somerton.

“Only sometimes.” He turned to Sophie. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see more, Somerton.”

“I know,” he said in a resigned voice. “Is she all right?”

“I cannot tell. Do you know who the duke is?”

Somerton sank into a seat and raked his fingers through his short hair. “No. It might be any duke. Or it might mean a street with the word duke in it.”

“Wait,” Sophie said, slowly walking around the room. “You said Lady Farleigh is involved. I think I might know who the duke is.”

Somerton turned his head toward her. “How?”

“Lady Farleigh used to visit me before she became the countess. She was involved with another man who only came to see her at the brothel. She desperately wanted him to offer her a position as mistress but he never did. Still, they parted on friendly terms when Farleigh made her an offer.”