The Earl's Wallflower Bride (19 page)

“That’s all the more reason to accept my
offer,” he replied. “You’ll get there quicker in a carriage than
you will by foot.”

“She isn’t that far. I’ll be happy to talk to
you at another time.” When Warren was there. Even if Warren had
deeply hurt her, at least she knew she was safe with him.

Hoping to put an end to the conversation, she
smiled a good-bye and started walking again. But she hadn’t made it
five steps when someone grabbed her from behind and put his hand
over her mouth. She struggled to get away from him, but he proved
to be much stronger than her. Almost without effort, he dragged her
to the carriage and pushed her into it.

Byron, who was still in the carriage, reached
for her and pulled her onto his lap, his arms securing her in
place. The door slammed shut as she screamed.

“It won’t do you any good to protest,” Byron
said, a warning laced with the forced politeness in his voice.

“Let me go,” she snapped, trying to wiggle
away from him.

The carriage began moving, and panic took
hold of her. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all! She slapped
him, but he raised his hand and slapped her back, the force of the
impact making her ears ring.

“Now, you listen to me,” he hissed, grabbing
her by the arms and pulling her closer to him so that his breath
was on her face. “If you keep quiet, no harm will come to you. It’s
not you I’m after. I need something from your husband, and you’re
the only thing I can use to get it. Once I get what I want, you’ll
be free to go.”

She didn’t know if it was the shock of being
abducted or the weeks of being stuck in a state of hopeless
despair, but she started laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Your
brother doesn’t want me. He won’t give you anything.”

“You consummated your marriage, didn’t
you?”

The question—so blunt—quieted her laughter.
In its place was the heat of humiliation that rose up in her
face.

“You were indeed a virgin until yesterday,”
he said. “Only a lady who’d been untouched would blush like that.
Well, then that means you’re all the more valuable to him. You
might be carrying his heir. So you see, he’ll want you.”

He shifted and pulled her off of him. Then he
plopped her beside him in the seat. She took a deep breath, hoping
it would help steady her nerves, but the ache on the side of her
head made her wince. She rubbed the side of her face and turned
away from him. Tears stung her eyes, so she blinked them away. She
wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying. Under no circumstance
must she let him know he could make her cry.

She forced her attention to the window,
noting they were heading out of London. “Where are you taking me?”
she asked once she could trust herself to speak without her voice
wavering.

“Home.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Home?”

“Yes. You’re going to get the chance to meet
your husband’s family. Did he tell you he has a stepmother and a
half-sister?”

Warren hadn’t told her
anything about his family, which was probably another indication he
didn’t care for her. If he had cared, he would have told her
something. That was the kind of thing husbands who loved their
wives did. But then, she hadn’t been under the delusion he wanted
to be with her. Not in the way she
wanted
to be wanted
anyway.

“Oh well,” Byron said, his tone indicating he
found the situation somewhat amusing. “The fact that you might be
with child will be enough to get him to come home. Take comfort in
that. You have some use to offer him.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and kept
her gaze on the activity on the street around her. The only thing
she really could take comfort in was knowing Byron had no intention
of killing her. She rubbed the side of her face again and released
a long breath. For the moment, there was nothing she could do.
She’d just have to bide her time.

Maybe when she reached an inn, she could find
a way to escape. And if that didn’t work out, perhaps she might get
Byron’s mother and sister to help her. Certainly ladies would be
sympathetic to the plight of someone who’d been abducted against
her will. Yes, if all else failed, she’d seek their help. So all
hope wasn’t lost. She just needed to bide her time. She’d done it
when it came to investing, and she could do it now. Patience. It
just required patience.

Chapter Sixteen

O
n
impulse, Warren made a trip to a bookstore on his way to White’s to
purchase a new book on investing that he thought Iris might like to
read with him. After he made his purchase, he went to White’s, and
as soon as he realized there were five gentlemen already there, he
wished he’d skipped the bookstore and come here right away instead.
Since the gentlemen were sitting at a table playing cards, he hoped
he might be able to sneak in unawares. Such luck, however, wasn’t
on his side.

“Are you here to see what shameful things are
going on?” Mister Christopher Robinson called out.

Lord Edon glanced up from his cards. “We
thought you restricted your morality checks to later on in the
day.”

The other three gentlemen at the table
chuckled. For whatever reason Warren could never figure out, the
world seemed to adore the likes of Robinson and Edon.

“However you want to waste your time is your
business as long as you don’t try to get innocent parties
involved,” Warren retorted.

Then, so as not to give his true reason for
coming here away, he sat in a chair in the corner of the room. He
set the investing book down and picked up a newspaper.
Unfortunately, he had to stay in this room. This was the only room
in the entire place that had a stack of Lord Edon’s books clearly
on display for anyone to take. Anyone, that was, except for
him.

He’d rather die than let any of them know he
was here to grab of copy of that book. But he couldn’t risk coming
here at a later time, when it was going to be busier. The five
gentlemen playing cards and laughing about the latest gossip were
bad enough to contend with.

After a few minutes of pretending to read the
paper, he glanced over at the card table. None of the gentlemen
seemed to be paying attention to him. Maybe he could slip out of
here and grab a copy of Lord Edon’s book on the way out. The books
were stacked on a small table next to the door. If he walked right
by them, he could probably slip one under the book he already had
and escape without anyone noticing.

His gaze went to the gentlemen who were
laughing and having a great time. That was good. It meant they were
distracted. None of them were looking over at him. Maybe, just
maybe, he could get this plan to work. He set the newspaper on the
table and picked up the book he’d brought in with him. Daring a
peek over at the gentlemen, he noted none were looking in his
direction.

He stood up, this time watching them. So far,
so good. They were still occupied. Quiet, so as not to catch their
attention, he tiptoed toward the door. He made it to the stack of
books, and his steps slowed. He had to fight back the urge to hurry
right on by them in case one of the gentlemen looked over at him at
the exact moment he took one.

Iris. He was doing this for Iris. Ignoring
his racing heart, he reached for a copy and slipped it under the
book on investing. With one last glance to make sure the other
gentlemen hadn’t seen him, he darted out of the room. Just as he
crossed the threshold, he bumped into someone, and both books fell
to the floor.

Face hot, he hurried to pick them up, lest
the gentleman he bumped into find out what he had in his
possession. This effort, however was in vain, for the gentleman
retrieved Edon’s book for him, leaving Warren with the book on
investing.

At this point, Warren looked up at the person
he’d bumped into and saw it was Dr. Derek Westward, otherwise known
as the Marquess of Dodsworth. Of all the gentlemen who could see
him with Edon’s book, this was the worst one.

He almost told Dodsworth it
wasn’t what it looked like, but what was the point? The doctor
wasn’t stupid. It was
exactly
what it looked like.

“Please don’t tell anyone about that book,”
Warren whispered.

He noted the amusement in Dodsworth’s eyes
and thought for sure the gentleman was going to draw attention to
them. But, to his immense relief, Dodsworth handed the book to him
and said, “I won’t. Your secret is safe with me.”

Really? Could it be that easy?

Dodsworth went around him and entered the
room where his friends were playing cards. He went over to them and
sat down. Warren held his breath, waiting for that dreaded moment
when they would all turn to him and laugh. But they didn’t.
Instead, Robinson dealt Dodsworth some cards. Dodsworth picked up
his hand, and from there, the game continued as if nothing unusual
had just happened.

Warren couldn’t believe it. After the way
he’d treated Dodsworth the first time he saw him here at White’s,
Dodsworth was really willing to keep this whole thing a secret? He
wasn’t going to pay him back for being rude?

Warren tucked Edon’s book under the other
one. He didn’t deserve the mercy Dodsworth had just shown him. He
had deserved to be called out and ridiculed. Why had Dodsworth been
nice to him?

Because Dodsworth was a good and decent
person. Yes, he might have a tendency to speak his mind and create
scandals, but, deep down, he was honorable. And if Warren recalled
right, Dodsworth tended to get into trouble when he called out
prominent members of the Ton for making fun of others who weren’t
there to defend themselves.

Warren tapped the books in his arm, wondering
what he should do about this. At the moment, he supposed he
couldn’t do anything. Dodsworth was with his friends, playing a
game, and enjoying the morning. Well, next time Warren had a
chance, he’d make it up to him.

He left the gentleman’s club, lost in thought
about the turn of events. How many other people had he been quick
to judge without giving them a chance? He’d been wrong about Iris.
Now, he realized he’d been wrong about Dodsworth. Certainly, there
had to be others.

This matter was still on his mind by the time
he returned to his townhouse. He was so lost in thought, in fact,
that he didn’t realize the butler was calling his name until he was
halfway up the stairs to go to his bedchamber to hide Edon’s
book.

Careful not to let the butler see it, he made
sure the investment book was the one facing the butler as he turned
around. “What is it?” he asked as the butler came up the
stairs.

“This came for you, my lord.” The butler
handed him a neatly folded missive.

Warren accepted it, his gaze going to the
familiar eloquent scrawl. Byron. With a roll of his eyes, he
thanked the butler then turned and headed back up to his
bedchamber. It was just like Byron to keep pestering him. He did
this several times a year. No matter how many times Warren stuck to
his word and didn’t send Byron a single mite until the monthly
allotment was due, Byron insisted on bothering him. Why should this
time be any different?

Warren went into his bedchamber and threw the
missive in the trashcan. Then he set the books on the desk. Once he
retrieved the key to the top drawer, he unlocked it and set Edon’s
book in it. He shut it and locked it, relieved he’d been able to do
all of this without Iris catching him. Good. There was no need for
her to find out how incompetent he was at lovemaking. He returned
the key to the cabinet and then grabbed the book on investing.

He bounded down the steps and searched for
his lovely bride. When he didn’t see her in the drawing room or
den, he went to the butler. “Have you seen Lady Steinbeck?”

“Lady Steinbeck left about an hour ago,” the
butler said.

She did? Doing his best to hide his
disappointment, he asked, “Did she say when she’ll be back?”

“No, my lord.”

Warren almost asked him if she’d told him
where she was going but decided against it. She had a right to go
wherever she wanted without him bothering her. Besides, if she had
wanted to be with him that morning, she would have stayed home.

Who could blame her either way? He’d run off
to White’s, so naturally she assumed he didn’t want to spend the
morning with her. It was probably his fault for not taking the time
to let her know how much he was looking forward to spending the day
with her when he wrote her the note he’d put on her vanity.

After thanking the butler, he decided he’d
make good use of his time and start reading Edon’s book on how to
pleasure a lady. He was fifteen pages into it when he recalled the
note he’d left Iris in her room. Perhaps she’d written a
response.

Of course! Why didn’t he think of it before?
It made perfect sense. Why tell the servants where she was going
when she could just as easily tell him in a note?