Scandal of the Season (25 page)

“Who is it, Sophie?”

“The Duke of Maldon,” she whispered. “I think that is where she is. Oh God, you have to find her. The stories of what he did to Lady Farleigh were dreadful.”

“If he treated her so horribly, why would she have wanted him as a protector?” Brentwood asked.

“In money and position, a duke trumps an earl,” Somerton answered. “We have to get out of here.”

“Anthony, wait,” Sophie cried out as he reached for the door. She didn’t even care that she’d called him by his Christian name in front of Brentwood. “His Grace is a dangerous man. He looks innocuous but he is not.”

“Thank you, Sophie.”

“Bring her home safely.”

“I will do my best.”

“And Somerton,” she paused as her emotions took control, “watch out for your own safety. I should hate to see something dreadful happen to you.”

“I understand, Sophie.”

Sophie watched the two men leave but the sense of dread would not leave with them. She had a feeling something terrible was going to happen but had no way to stop it.

After three hours of standing, tied to a bedpost, Victoria felt as if her knees would give out. The late afternoon sun was slowly fading into the horizon and long shadows filled the chilly room. Once Hardy and Hannah realized Victoria wasn’t about to tell them where the missive was, they left the room. While she preferred being alone to their company, she could not stop trembling.

Not knowing what was going to happen terrified her completely. And worse, no one would ever find her here. No one would suspect the duke was associated with this plot. Even if someone notified Somerton of her kidnapping, she wasn’t certain he would look for her. After his behavior toward her today, she was not sure she wanted him to.

The fact that he didn’t believe her hurt worse than any pain inflicted upon her. She was a fool for falling in love with him. And yet, the time with him had been the best of her life. What apparently would be a short life.

The door opened and the Duke of Maldon traipsed into the room followed by Hannah and Hardy. Maldon stood straight and walked briskly. While he had a head of white hair, he hardly appeared to be a feeble old man. He came closer until his foul breath wafted in front of her nose.

She turned her head away from the odor. Maldon grabbed her chin and forced it back, so she had no choice but to look at him.

“Now, how much pain am I going to have to inflict upon you before you give me the name of the man who has the missive?”

“You plan to rape me anyway so why should I tell you who I worked for?”

His smile turned evil. “Again, it depends on how much pain you enjoy, Miss Seaton.” He held out his hand and Hannah placed a whip in it.

Victoria shivered in fear. She had heard stories from the prostitutes about men who wanted to whip them for pleasure. One or two of the women didn’t mind it but most hated it because of the pain. But she didn’t believe Maldon wanted pleasure out of this, only pain. Her pain.

“So again, Miss Seaton, who is your contact?”

Trying to delay the pain, she attempted to change the subject. “How did you find out who I was?”

Maldon laughed. “Lady Farleigh followed you back to London. Did you and Somerton think you were being sneaky?”

“No, but why didn’t you follow Ancroft?”

“We had another follow him.” He put his lips on her neck and bit down until she screamed. “You will be such an easy one to get information from.”

He went behind her and untied her hands. Before she could move, Hardy was there holding her.

“Turn the bitch around,” Maldon said. He retied her wrists to the post that she now faced.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She hated herself for begging with these bastards.

“Tell me, was it Somerton or Ancroft?”

When she didn’t answer, the cold steel of a knife sliced through the back of her dress. Maldon tore the back off the dress, then cut her stays and shift. With the cool air hitting her back, she knew what would happen next. Still, when the end of the whip hit her, she cried out in agony.

Nothing had ever hurt that badly.

“Do you like that,” Maldon said, grabbing her breasts. “My these are small. I much prefer large-breasted women like Lady Farleigh. But Mr. Hardy here, well he spent quite a lot of time on ships so you will remind him of all the boys he’s had. He does like to fuck in the arse, but you were Somerton’s whore so I would guess he tried that with you, too.”

He squeezed her breasts until she cried out again. “Last chance to stop the pain. Who?” He moved back to ready the whip again.

“Oh, God no,” she screamed as the lash struck her again.

It didn’t matter how much this hurt. She would not give Somerton’s name to them. She couldn’t be responsible for his death.

“Who?” Maldon yelled then let the whip hit her back again.

Victoria jerked back from the pain. She clutched the bedpost as tears streamed down her face.

“Why were you there?” Maldon asked, holding the whip in the air again.

This she could answer. “I was only there to pretend to be Somerton’s mistress. It was the only way he could get into the party because Lord Farleigh is jealous of him.”

She slid a glance back to Hannah whose cheeks turned red.

“Were you there to entice Hardy?” he asked, still waving the whip in the air.

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” she cried. “Somerton and Ancroft wanted me to be able to get close to Hardy if they needed me to pick his pocket.”

“Damn easy job when everyone knows he likes thin, young blondes, man or woman.”

She went cold. Everyone knew he liked thin young blondes. No wonder Somerton said she was perfect for this job. He used her as bait. “That bastard!”

“Oh, you didn’t know that, did you?” he said with a wicked laugh.

White-hot pain licked her back again. She clung to the post and blinked her eyes trying not to faint from the torture. “Please,” she begged. “Please stop.”

“Then tell me the name,” Maldon shouted.

Maldon stepped behind her and rubbed his erection against her. “I think she is ready for me, Hannah.”

“No,” Victoria cried out. “Please don’t do this to me.”

He walked toward Lady Farleigh. “Get me ready, Hannah.”

Hannah stripped off his jacket and waistcoat. She smiled over at Victoria and said, “Wait until you see the size of this man’s cock. You shall be impressed.”

Hardy moved closer to her. “And when he’s done, I’ll have my fun.”

Hardy sliced the remains of her tattered clothing off until she was naked in front of everyone. Shame forced tears down her cheeks.

“Make her look at this, Hardy,” Hannah said.

Hardy forced her head toward them. Hannah was pulling down the old duke’s pantaloons until his cock sprang forth. She stroked the long length of him, until Maldon closed his eyes.

“Maybe he’ll stick that large pole up your arse and get you ready for me,” Hardy said with a gleam in his eyes.

“Untie her, Hardy. I’m almost ready for her.”

Hardy untied her wrists but held them tightly in his large grip. She heard Maldon walking back toward her.

“Last chance to save yourself, Miss Seaton.” He cracked the whip across her back again then held it high. “Who has the note?”

“I don’t know,” she yelled. “I do not know.”

The whip struck her down once more. Her back felt as if it were on fire. There was no saving her now.

The sound of footsteps racing down the hall sounded and before anyone could react, the door hurled open. Victoria almost fainted at the sight of Somerton rushing through the door with a pistol in each hand.

Anthony took in the room and pain exploded in his head at the sight of Victoria, naked and exposed to everyone in the room. God only knew what they might have already done to her.

Hardy released Victoria who fell face down on the bed. He reached for his pistol.

“You bastards!” Anthony shouted. Seeing a clear shot of Hardy, Anthony fired his pistol. Hardy fell to the floor screaming.

Victoria yanked the coverlet off the bed to hide her nakedness. Anthony turned his attention on the old naked duke who now had a pistol aimed at Anthony.

“So who will die first, Somerton?” Maldon taunted.

“You will pay for what you have done to Miss Seaton.” Anthony slid a glance to Victoria who seemed to be fumbling with the coverlet.

“If you kill me you shall hang for murdering a duke. My servants will protect me.”

“And you shall hang for treason, Your Grace.” Anthony was certain they had no idea that both Ainsworth and Brentwood were following behind him.

“No one else knows I am involved in this. Those Hanoverian kings should never have been allowed to rule this country. And I intend to make sure they are all eliminated and a new ruling house is formed.”

Anthony’s finger trembled slightly on the trigger of the pistol. He wanted to kill the man right now but had promised Ainsworth justice would prevail.

“But I do think your whore should watch you die as I’m fucking her.”

“No,” Victoria screamed as Maldon’s pistol fired. She held the small pistol that Anthony had given her and fired at Maldon.

Lady Farleigh shrieked as Maldon sank to the floor. She glared up at Victoria and pulled another pistol from her pocket. Anthony, felled to the floor from Maldon’s shot, scrambled to reach Victoria. Smoke filled the room as Lady Farleigh aimed at Victoria and fired.

Victoria screamed and fell to the bed. Anthony raced for the bed as Ainsworth and Brentwood ran into the room.

“Damn,” Brentwood mumbled. “It looks like a battle scene in here.”

Anthony pulled the coverlet off Victoria’s shoulder and gaped at the wound. The shot Maldon fired at him had only scraped his shoulder. But Lady Farleigh’s shot had been almost perfectly aimed. He felt the backside of Victoria’s shoulder praying for an exit wound.

Feeling blood, he felt a sense of relief. As he moved her slightly to check on the exit wound, he realized how wrong he’d been. Nausea threatened to overcome him at the sight of the whip marks.

“Hell, Ainsworth, call the surgeon now,” he ordered.

“Home,” Victoria mumbled. “I want to go home.”

“Shh,” Anthony murmured to her. “Save your strength.”

He stared at her as tears filled his eyes. He had never seen anyone so pale. Pressing a piece of linen from the pillow to her wound, he prayed as he never had in his life.

“Somerton, I don’t want to die here. Take me home.”

He looked up at the ceiling and pressed his lips together. He could not deny her the only thing she’d truly ever asked of him. “Brentwood, help me with her and send the surgeon to her home.”

As he picked her up in his arms, she fainted again. He could only hope it was from the pain and not loss of blood already. Brentwood helped him get her into Ainsworth’s carriage.

“Somerton,” Brentwood said then stopped. “I’m dreadfully sorry.”

“She will be all right.” Even as he said the words, he knew it was likely a lie.

The ride to her home was a nightmare for him. She came in and out of consciousness, moaning in pain. Anthony held her tight in his arms as tears burned down his cheeks. He never should have gotten her involved in this mess.

She blinked her eyes open for a moment and smiled at him. “You saved me,” she whispered.

“Why, Victoria?” he said hoarsely. “Why didn’t you tell them my name?”

“I love you,” she whispered. “They would have killed you.” She fainted again.

She loved him? That was why she didn’t give up his name. Tears burned down his cheeks as he stared at her. He had treated her like every other woman, expecting her to hurt him.

But she hadn’t.

She had put her own life at risk for him out of love. Love! Until he met her, he had never had an idea about love. But now? Now he understood how much he loved her. How his life would never be the same without her. How his life would never be better without her.

Her pain was his fault. He would never forgive himself for bringing her on this mission. As his own shoulder throbbed, he knew it was nothing compared to the pain of being whipped and shot.

The carriage stopped in front of her house on Maddox Street. The driver opened the door and helped Anthony out with her still in his arms.

“Open the door, then go next door and tell Lady Whitely that Somerton needs her over here now.” He stared at the driver. “Do not accept a no answer for
any
reason. I don’t care if you have to drag her off a man.”

The driver’s shocked expression finally wore off. “Yes, my lord.”

Anthony kicked at the door to Victoria’s home until a middle-aged woman opened it. “The surgeon is on his way. Boil water and get fresh linens up to her bedroom as fast as you can.”

“Oh my, what happened?”

“She was shot.” And he didn’t want to think about the other possibilities of what might have happened. He walked slowly up the stairs to avoid causing her any further pain.

She blinked her eyes open as he placed her on her bed. “Thank you for bringing me home, Somerton.”

“Don’t talk, Victoria. The surgeon will be here soon and get that ball out of you.”

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered. “I’m so afraid.”

“I won’t leave you, I promise.”

She nodded but tears fell from her eyes. “I told Lady Farleigh it was bad luck to bring the holly in before Christmas Eve.”

“What?”

She only shook her head.

He bent over and kissed the tears off her face. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “This is all my fault.”

“Oh Lord,” his mother’s voice sounded from the door. “What happened to her?”

“She was shot.”

“By who?”

He shook his head. “It’s a very long story but Lady Farleigh shot her.”

“I told you to leave her alone, Anthony.” His mother came over to the bed and sat on the edge. Gently, she pushed back gold strands from Victoria’s forehead. Anthony barely remembered how she used to do that to him as a child.

The older woman entered the room with a gasp. “Lady Whitely!”

“Maggie, she needs cool fresh water for her brow. Go get it now. If you need ice go next door and tell them I sent you.”

Maggie ran out of the room.

Victoria blinked her eyes open again. “Lady Whitely?”

“Shh, dear. You will be all right. The surgeon is coming. Just remember all you have to live for, the children, your home, your friends…Anthony.”

Tears fell down the sides of her cheeks. “He hates me,” she said as if she didn’t know he was in the room. “H—he thinks Bronwyn is our child.”

“Hush, I corrected him on his misunderstanding,” his mother said in a soothing tone.

Maggie rushed back into the room. “The surgeon’s here, ma’am.”

“Everyone get off that bed,” he ordered. “My name is Mr. Michaels.”

The doctor walked over to the bed and examined the wound. Victoria howled as he probed the wound, and it took every ounce of effort for Anthony not to kick the man out. He stood by the bed with his hands fisted tightly.

“The ball is in deep but luckily it is in muscle.” He looked around the room at the people gathered. “Lady Whitely, I need your assistance. The rest of you need to leave the room.”

“I am not going anywhere,” Anthony stated.