The School for Brides (28 page)
Read The School for Brides Online
Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith
How astonishing! She was free! She should be dancing for joy. But not even this could lift her spirits. “I thank you for your consideration, Your Grace. My mother and I are grateful.”
“Damn it, Eva.” He took her roughly by the arms and shook her lightly. He bent to look into her eyes. “I do not want your gratitude. I don’t want you to feel you should come to my bed out of some sense of obligation. I want you to continue our association because you desire me as I desire you.”
He dipped his head and brushed his warm lips over hers. Eva placed a hand on his chest and felt his rapid heartbeat. Just as quickly, he released her, and she wobbled. “I will not come to you again. You know where to find me. The decision is yours.”
Wide-eyed and breathless, Eva watched him stalk down the path toward the back wall. The slam of the metal gate echoed in her ears long after she heard a coach pull away.
She slumped onto the bench and covered her face. Nicholas had removed her chains and gifted her with the return of her life. She no longer had to worry about her future or his powerful presence tugging at her purse strings. Mother was safe and Eva never had to see him again, unless she chose to do so.
“Oh, dear.” She placed her open hands over her mouth and stared absently at a patch of blue hyacinths. His Grace had come as close to words of affection as she could ever expect from him. He’d freed her, yet he wanted her to stay.
There was no need to read poetry or to linger over words of love. He hungered for her, he cared for her. She’d seen it play out in his eyes and felt it in his kiss.
“I see His Grace has returned.” Harold rounded a narrow hedge and came to a stop before her. He stared toward the back of the garden, his face a closed mask. “He is smitten with you, Eva.”
“He cares for me,” Eva agreed. No man would give such a grand gift unless he cared for her welfare. “He has forgiven my debts and signed over Mother’s house to me.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she stared up at Harold through stinging eyes. A deep swallow cleared her voice. “And he has left our future together up to me.”
Harold worked his jaw for a long moment. It was clear he didn’t want to give credit to His Grace for his selfless act. The two men were fighting for the right to protect Eva and her mother. Thankfully, there had not been bloodshed.
“I may have misjudged the man,” he said finally.
Eva’s eyes widened. It had taken much out of Harold to admit his mistake.
“We both misjudged him,” she said.
After a nod, Harold scratched the side of his head. “Has he asked for your hand?”
“He has not.” She lifted her chin. She was too overwrought to argue today. “I do not expect such an offer. I’m a courtesan’s daughter.” A few raindrops started to fall. She held back tears and stood. “Oh, Harold, I do care for him. I know not what to do. I’m no longer satisfied with the life I have. I want so much more. I want a family of my own.”
Harold shrugged. “I cannot offer advice when it comes to His Grace or your future. You must do what is in your heart. If he cannot give you what you desire, you must let him go.”
Eva looped her hand under his elbow and rested her head on his shoulder. The damp wool of his coat was oddly comforting. She had missed their closeness over the last few weeks, and was relieved to have it back. “You are such a good friend.”
He patted her hand and mumbled, “If you only knew.”
N
icholas listened intently to Crawford until he finished his report. The investigator took a deep breath and added, “I’m certain the woman is being held somewhere in Highland Abbey. The earl’s servants are whispering about a woman locked in a room on the second floor. I believe she is the missing, perhaps kidnapped, Yvette.”
icholas listened intently to Crawford until he finished his report. The investigator took a deep breath and added, “I’m certain the woman is being held somewhere in Highland Abbey. The earl’s servants are whispering about a woman locked in a room on the second floor. I believe she is the missing, perhaps kidnapped, Yvette.”
Kidnapped? Eva was correct to be worried. Her courtesan had not gone missing by choice but by force. Lord Maddington had had her kidnapped. The bastard!
“You told this to Miss Black?” It felt strange to call her by her spinster name, but it was better to keep Crawford thinking of her that way. Miss Black belonged to her courtesans. Evangeline Winfield belonged solely to Nicholas, and he easily kept the two separate in his mind.
“I left her and came here straightaway, Your Grace.” The investigator stood by the fire, warming from his journey across town in the rain. His bones crackled as he flexed and released his hands toward the flames. “The lady was very worried, and also very generous.”
Nicholas frowned. “You were not to take money from her.”
“I tried to refuse it.” Crawford grinned. “When I explained you would make the payment, her big servant forced a purse into my hand.” Crawford chuckled. “I feared what he might do if I refused. I slipped it onto a table on the way out.”
Grinning, Nicholas nodded. Eva wouldn’t be pleased.
Harold was as persuasive as he was large. Nicholas imagined Eva, the servant at her back, refusing to allow Nicholas to pay any further debts on her behalf. Even without Harold, he suspected Crawford had been outmanned. She was a force of her own, and would be angry when she discovered the purse left behind.
Lud, he missed her!
Stretching out his legs to ease the tightening in his crotch, Nicholas leaned an elbow on the armrest and tucked his jaw into his hand. “Thank you for your efforts, Crawford. You have done an excellent job. I have instructed my butler to double your fee. You can see him on the way out.”
Crawford tucked his hat onto his head and bowed. “If you ever need me again, just send a note, Your Grace.” He walked out the open door and down the hall.
Muted voices drifted back, then the front door closed behind the investigator. A few minutes later a knock echoed through the house. Nicholas heard a female voice, and then the butler escorted Eva into the room.
“Miss Winfield, Your Grace.”
Relieved to see her, Nicholas stood. “Eva.” She was a vision of ethereal beauty beneath the hood of her sodden cloak. Water dripped onto the polished floor as she pushed the hood back and her hair fell about her in a tangled mass of damp curls. She’d left off the wig. He cleared his throat to recover from his surprise and tamp down a sudden flush of desire.
He casually reached for his glass and tossed back the last swallow of brandy in an effort to calm his body. An insurmountable task when she was near. “I didn’t expect you, or I would have had tea prepared.”
She stepped farther into the room, and the firelight flickered across her pale face. “I did not come here for tea, Your Grace. This isn’t a social call.”
The news of the discovery of Yvette’s whereabouts was the likely reason for her visit. She was attached to her fallen birds, and with one chick missing, Eva had become obsessed with finding her and returning her to the nest.
“I saw Mister Crawford leave as I was arriving. So you know about Yvette.” She extended her hands, beseeching. “I am desperately worried about her, Your Grace. We need your help.”
Returning the glass to the table, he walked to her. With Crawford’s information, he knew what Yvette faced, and could not allow Eva to put herself in danger. She had to be convinced to let professionals handle the situation.
“There is little I can do, sweet, but summon the Bow Street Runners and let them do their own investigation.” He brushed a curl behind her ear. “Her lover is a peer. We must tread carefully.”
“You think they’d care about one missing courtesan, against the murders and thievery that happen here in London every day?” she cried, curling her hands into fists. “If they investigate this at all, it could take weeks, months even, to find enough evidence to rescue her. By then, Yvette could be dead or sold into slavery.”
The fear in her face twisted his gut. She had no idea of the size of Yvette’s problem. The woman was in grave trouble, and he couldn’t allow Eva to face the same by confronting Maddington. If any harm befell Eva, there would be hell to pay. “I have connections. I can hurry things along.”
Eva pressed a gloved fist to her mouth. “We cannot wait. She’s in immediate danger.” She paced, trailing droplets of water in her wake. “We must come up with another solution. We know where she’s held. Perhaps we can confront the staff and demand they release her.”
“Eva . . .” He reached for her arm to stop the pacing. He touched the side of her face. The soft skin was clammy under his warm palm. “Sweet, I know Lord Maddington. They do not call him the Mad Lord for naught. He is a violent man. He almost killed a footman for dropping a vase. If your Yvette is indeed at Highland Abbey, she is well guarded. None of his servants will dare betray him. They fear him too much.”
Beneath his hands she shook. “Please help her, Nicholas.” Her bottom lip trembled and tears filled the corners of her eyes. “We cannot allow her to be murdered!”
A sob broke from her. He eased her into his arms. Her shaking turned into quiet weeping as rain and tears soaked through his shirt. She felt small and vulnerable, tucked against his chest. Protective feelings welled inside him, and he murmured soothing sounds until she quieted.
Spent, she lifted her head and sniffled. “I apologize for bringing this to you, Your Grace. Yvette is not your concern.” She stepped back and released her grip on his shirt. He cupped her face with both hands. He hated to see her so dejected.
“I promise I will do what I can for your friend.” He leaned to press his lips to her forehead. “Allow me a day or two to see what I can discover. Promise?”
Slowly, Eva nodded. But the dark spark he saw in her eyes, just before she turned and walked to the door, narrowed his eyes and roused suspicion.
“Eva.” Her hand rested on the door handle and she looked over her shoulder. The dull pain in her eyes had faded. She looked as if she was about to do something reckless.
Short of tying her to his bed, he had to remain confident that Harold would keep a watch over her while the Runners looked into the kidnapping. “Do not do anything foolish.”
“I will not.” She nodded stiffly. “Good day, Your Grace.”
For the remainder of the afternoon, a sickening dread settled deep in his gut.
Chapter Sixteen
I
cannot sit here in my room and do nothing,” Eva said. She leaned back against the pillows on her bed, then leaned forward, turned, and punched the closest pillow into a downy pulp before slumping back against it. She felt so overwhelmingly helpless and frustrated. “Yvette is in danger.”
cannot sit here in my room and do nothing,” Eva said. She leaned back against the pillows on her bed, then leaned forward, turned, and punched the closest pillow into a downy pulp before slumping back against it. She felt so overwhelmingly helpless and frustrated. “Yvette is in danger.”
Noelle reclined on an elbow at the foot of the bed and traced a finger around the floral pattern on the coverlet. Summoned by Eva, Noelle had rushed to the Mayfair house. Though Noelle didn’t know Yvette, Eva was sure she sympathized with her plight. What woman would not? To be kidnapped and likely abused by a man with a history of violence was a terrifying nightmare all women could understand.
“Did His Grace not say he would help?” Noelle had faith in the powers of a duke on a mission. It was a faith Eva didn’t share. No one man was all-powerful and able to work miracles. Not even the dark duke. “I think it best if you allow him a few days to see what he can do. A man of his stature can engage the Runners to action in ways we cannot.”
The unshakable belief in His Grace rankled. It wasn’t as if Eva didn’t believe Nicholas could do what he said. It was the waiting she took issue with. Never patient to begin with, she felt each tick of the clock batter through her mind with piercing accuracy. Time was wasting, and she couldn’t bear it!
“A few days? We might as well serve up Yvette to the earl on a platter with an apple in her mouth,” Eva snapped. She crossed her arms and blew hair out of her eyes. “Lord Maddington nearly killed a man. Does that not warrant immediate action?”
“And what, exactly, does this immediate action entail?” Noelle said. She pushed up on the bed. “Do you ride up to his door on Muffin, dressed in medieval armor, and demand her release? Or roust the villagers, arm them with pitchforks and flaming torches, and launch an attack on the abbey?”
“I don’t appreciate you mocking me, sister,” Eva scolded.
Noelle leaned on one palm. She reached out to place her other hand on Eva’s outstretched ankle. “I do understand your worry, and I apologize. However, if this man is as dangerous as His Grace believes, you must not cross him. His Grace will help. I know he will. He will do anything for you.”
Other books
7 Years Bad Sex by Nicky Wells
It Happened One Week by Joann Ross
Under the Cornerstone by Sasha Marshall
Bound by Marina Anderson
Hidden in Lies by Rachael Duncan
The Winter Guest by Pam Jenoff
Runaway Love by Nicole W. Lee
Lily’s War by June Francis
The Glass Wall by Clare Curzon