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Authors: Elise de Sallier

BOOK: Protection
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“Hugh says he loves me.” Rebecca looked up to meet Lisa’s gaze. “And he wants to spend
the rest of our lives proving the genuineness of his feelings.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes I do.”

“That’s wonderful.” Lisa smiled at her friend and future sister-in-law before asking
cheekily, “And he has kissed you
properly
?”

“He certainly has. Hiding in the shadows on the terrace at the Crompton’s ball.” A
dreamy smile curved Rebecca’s lips. “It was everything you said it would be . . .
warm, tender, and really quite breathtaking. I didn’t want him to stop, but he said
he’s determined to treat me with the utmost respect and has no intention of taking
advantage of my passionate nature before the wedding. I think he’s afraid of what
Nathaniel and my father would do to him,”
she added, in an aside. “So . . . I told him that was perfectly acceptable as long
as we could share many more such kisses during our courtship and betrothal. I also
told him once we were married, he must promise to bring me to the pinnacle of desire
as often as I required.”

Lisa’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t really say such a thing?”

Rebecca shrugged and both girls succumbed to a fit of giggles.

“How did he respond?” Lisa asked when their laughter died down.

“Well.” Rebecca leaned closer. “He didn’t say anything for the longest time, just
stared at me with his mouth opening and closing. When he finally agreed to my demand,
his voice was quite hoarse, his brogue almost too thick for me to understand.”

“I’ll bet it was,” Lisa murmured, thinking she could do with an interlude in the shadows
herself, not to mention being brought to the pinnacle of desire. But quite aside from
the commitment they’d made to wait until they were wed, she and Nathaniel were observed
a little too closely to take the risk. On the positive side, as the days to her wedding
counted down, Lisa had begun feeling more confident about successfully fulfilling
the role of his marchioness. She was even hopeful their marital relationship might
be characterised by the lack of constraint they had experienced at Worthington. Their
desire for one another was certainly undiminished. If anything, it had grown,
with the slightest brush of their fingers inducing sharp intakes of breath.

“I could feel you watching me from across the room,” she had whispered one evening
when they were seated close together at the theatre.

“Did it bother you?” Hidden in the shadows, Nathaniel had held her hand, placing kisses
on her palm when no one was looking.

“I’m not sure our hosts approved, but I enjoyed it very much. Having your gaze upon
me is like an invisible caress down my spine.”

Nathaniel’s groan had earned a look of rebuke from Thomas who, along with Margaret,
had accompanied them for the evening.

“I’m heartily sick of feeling like an errant child requiring constant supervision,”
Nathaniel had grumbled. “Not that I’ve any right to complain. Our parents—your father,
in particular—have been remarkably accommodating, all things considered.”

Lisa had agreed, though she couldn’t deny she was impatient to be rid of the need
for chaperones once and for all.

Chapter 17

Ruse

With less than a week to the wedding, Lisa found herself torn between excitement that
it was finally going to happen and anxiety over the public nature of the event. With
Nathaniel busy preparing for the upcoming antislavery vote, her father off visiting
Penelope, and Michael and Eleanor due to arrive at any moment, she was in desperate
need of a distraction. Since baking wasn’t an option, she hoped doing some sketching
would help calm her nerves. But after her third failed attempt at achieving a reasonable
likeness of the Stanton House cat, Lisa threw down her pencil in disgust.

“You seem a little out of sorts.” Margaret’s smile was sympathetic. “Would you like
to accompany me and Rebecca on a shopping expedition?”

Lisa hesitated to say yes, as there were only so many fripperies one could possibly
need.

“We’re visiting a bookstore,” her future stepmother-in-law added, and Lisa’s reluctance
disappeared.

Returning to the charity home several times since their first visit, she had discussed
with Miss Wright ways in which she could be of more direct assistance. While females
of the lower classes were almost never given the opportunity to learn to read and
write, the charity home director was of the opinion a basic education could open up
a world of opportunities for the girls, an opinion Lisa shared. When young Sam, the
kitchen-hand-cum-stable-boy who had defended her in the markets of Worthey, learned
of Lisa’s intentions, he volunteered to be her first student. Since he was keen to
better himself, and she was determined to develop her teaching skills, they made a
good team.

When Margaret sent word for Ben to bring the carriage around, Lisa asked if Sam could
accompany them. Twenty minutes later, they were ensconced in the bookstore, Lisa with
an eye to adding another Jane Austen novel to her collection once Sam had finished
making his selection from amongst the children’s books.

“Excuse me, Lisa.” Rebecca approached from where she had been studying the latest
fashion journals. “There’s a quaint little shop just two doors down that sells parasols
and fans. Would you mind if Margaret and I go take a look and meet you back here when
we’re finished?”

“Of course not. Take as long as you need.”

With Sam engrossed in the pages of an illustrated copy of
One Thousand and One Nights
, Lisa looked forward to exploring the shelves without interruption, or so she hoped.
Recognised from the drawings of Nathaniel and her that regularly appeared in the papers,
she was having to adjust to being somewhat of a public figure, anonymity now a thing
of the past. So it was with a resigned sigh she turned to face the fair-haired young
woman, a commoner by her plain attire, who approached her a few moments after Rebecca
and Margaret departed.

“Are ye Lady Anneliese?” The woman’s gaze flitted from side to side. “The one the
paper says is ’elping young girls wot need rescuin’?”

To Lisa’s dismay, word of her involvement with the charity had escaped after a canny
reporter followed her to the home on one of her recent visits. The man had promised
not to disclose the location of the home—having been threatened with dire consequences
if the news was leaked and paid a generous bonus for his silence—but she couldn’t
help worry.

“I am she.” Lisa stepped closer to the young woman. “Is there some way I can be of
assistance?”

“It’s me sister, my lady. She was taken by some men to work in one of them ’orrid
places, but she managed to escape. She’s ’urt real bad, and I’m afraid they’re going
to find ’er and take ’er wiv ’em again.”

Lisa’s hand rose to her chest. “Where is your sister now?”

“Hidin’ in the alley out back of the shop, my lady. I need yer to take ’er to one
of ’em places wot keeps girls safe.”

“How did you know where to find me?” It wasn’t the first time someone had asked for
help in response to the newspaper articles, but the others had approached the servants’
entry at Stanton House.

“A friend of mine saw ye with the other ladies out the front of the shop and ran to
tell me. I was tryin’ to think ’ow to find ye before it was too late, knowin’ the
likes of me would never be granted an audience with a grand lady like yerself. It’s
like God answered me prayers.”

Although Lisa would have been glad to speak with her if she had come to the house,
she could understand the young woman’s apprehension. Convinced of her sincerity, she
called for Sam, who put down his book.

“There’s a young girl who needs our help waiting at the rear of this shop,” she said.
“Could you ask Ben to bring the carriage around to the alley to collect us, then go
and tell Her Grace and Lady Rebecca we shall meet them out front in a few moments.
I’m going to wait with . . .”

“Maggie. Me name’s Maggie.”

“I’m going to wait with Maggie and her sister.”

“Why don’t ye just bring the girl through the shop, my lady?” Sam eyed the woman warily.

“Because she’s been hurt, and I don’t want to draw attention to her plight.”

The shopkeeper, while not wanting to offend a lady, was hesitant when she requested
permission to pass through his living quarters. Lisa chafed at the time it took to
explain the situation, her thoughts with the injured child waiting frightened and
alone in the alley.

“What’s your sister’s name?” she asked Maggie as they entered the dingy lane.

“Beth,” she replied, grabbing hold of Lisa’s wrist and pulling her along.

“Where are we going?” Lisa tried to prise the woman’s fingers loose, but her grip
was too tight. “I thought you said your sister was waiting behind the shop?”

“She’s ’iding further down behind those rubbish bins.”

Lisa’s alarm subsided, as she could only imagine how terrified the poor girl must
be. But when they reached the bins, there was no one there. Glancing ahead, she caught
sight of what looked like the rear of a vehicle protruding into the alleyway, her
instincts belatedly warned her there was something amiss.

“Oh, look. There’s yer carriage waitin’ for us,” Maggie said.

“No, it’s not.” Lisa tried to pull away. “My driver couldn’t have possibly arrived
already. Let me go!”

“Not till I’m paid me doss,” Maggie muttered, and Lisa began to struggle in earnest.

“Help! Somebody he—” Her words were cut off when a man stepped out of the shadows
and clamped his large, sweaty hand over her mouth.

“Ye be quiet, missy, or the master will ’urt ye bad.” Her captor grabbed her around
the middle, squeezing the air from her lungs. “Well, worse than ’e’s already plannin’.”

No match for the man’s strength, Lisa was soon bundled inside the carriage, landing
heavily on her knees. The door slammed behind her, the shrouded carriage lurching
into motion before she had a chance to get her bearings.

“Reunited at last,
Lady
Anneliese.”

A voice she had hoped never to hear again came out of the darkness, and Lisa’s blood
ran cold.

“Lord Copeland?” She whimpered.

A match being struck sounded loudly, and a lantern attached to the wall illuminated
his face. Scrambling backwards, Lisa came up hard against the bench opposite before
lunging for the door handle, crying out when she found it was locked.

“Oh, don’t carry on so,” Lord Copeland scolded. “The journey’s not overly long, but
you may as well make yourself comfortable . . . while you can.”

With her heart racing, Lisa rose shakily to take a seat. “What can you possibly hope
to achieve by abducting me?” Huddling in the corner, she kept as far back as she could
from the man who had already caused her so much misery.

“Let me see.” He rubbed his chin. “I want revenge for all the trouble you’ve caused
me, recompense for the fortune I was denied, and oh yes, your complete and abject
ruin. Your father should not have rejected my offer of marriage. It was meant in quite
good faith . . . well, other than the fact I was more interested in getting my hands
on that priceless pearl necklace of yours, and whatever benefit I could gain from
your
illustrious
heritage, than marriage to a little country miss. If the royal connections I suspected
you possessed—rightly, it would seem—hadn’t panned out, I planned to sell you on to
one of my less gentlemanlike acquaintances. Oh, how droll.” He laughed. “The outcome
for you is much the same.”

“You’re insane,” Lisa whispered. “Lord Marsden, my father, even the King . . . they’ll
not rest until they’ve found me. You cannot possibly get away with this.”

“I must beg to differ. Less than twenty-four hours from now, you’ll have been smuggled
out of the country and we’ll both be on our way to meet our destinies, mine a life
of ease and yours as a rich potentate’s concubine or the star attraction in one of
the more exclusive Oriental establishments. There are those who will pay a very pretty
price for the privilege of bedding a sweet English rose, especially
one who just happens to be cousin to our King. The novelty value alone will send the
selling price through the roof, not to mention your glorious red hair.”

Lisa stared at him in horror.

“You can have my pearl necklace, and more. My mother brought a treasure trove of jewels
with her from France. They’re worth a fortune.”

“So I’ve heard.” Copeland glared at her. “But I’ve no intention of being snared in
a trap. You needn’t worry about my financial well-being, Anneliese. When
I was forced to flee these shores—thanks to you

I stumbled upon some like-minded individuals and am now engaged in a very lucrative
trade, one you’re about to become all too familiar with. You’re older than the other
girls I’ve collected, but your unique status should more than make up for your advanced
years.”

A sob rose in Lisa’s chest, but she stifled it, silently praying for a miracle. She
should never have gone into the alleyway alone, but Maggie had been so convincing.

A movement above Lord Copeland’s head caught her attention, and she glanced up to
see Sam had lifted the flap over the rear window of the carriage and was peering in
at them. Her breath hitched, but her captor was too busy gloating about how easily
she had been fooled to notice her reaction. Sam signalled Lisa’s silence with a finger
to his lips, then he mimed plucking something from his wrist and letting it go before
pointing to Lisa’s lap. While Copeland droned on, she brought her right hand to the
pearl bracelet Nathaniel had given her. The clasp had broken, catching in the sleeve
of her pelisse, and she could feel by the gaps in the strand that a few pearls were
missing. Blinking slowly, she acknowledged Sam’s plan and carefully freed the remaining
pearls, capturing them in her hand. Each precious bauble reminded her of Nathaniel’s
love, giving her hope Copeland’s plans would be thwarted. He would move Heaven and
Earth to find her . . . she just prayed he wouldn’t be too late.

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