Wicked Promise (30 page)

A shuffling sounded at the door. The butler stood with a calling card captured in a white-gloved hand. "A gentleman has arrived, Miss Woolcot. The Earl of Bascomb. He wishes to see you."

Elizabeth's face went pale. "Bascomb? Bascomb is here?"

"Yes, miss, waiting in the foyer."

Elias Moody stepped through the door of the drawing room. "Not to worry, miss. Theo's out there with 'im. Say the word and Bascomb is out of 'ere—on 'is bloody 'ead if that's what ye want."

Oh, how she wished she could say yes. She would like nothing better than to see the mighty Oliver Hampton thrown out of the house on his ear. But good sense prevailed. They certainly didn't need more trouble.

"I shall speak to him, Elias. However, I should like you to come with me."

Elias flashed her a look that said there was no doubt of that. "Right ye are, miss."

They found his lordship waiting beneath the crystal chandelier, wearing an expression that could only be described as smug, enjoying, she imagined, all of Nicholas's woes.

"I am surprised to see you here, my lord. I thought I had made my dislike of you clear when you accosted me at the costume ball."

His mouth tightened a fraction. He forced himself to smile, but there was no mistaking the anger that lay beneath it. It was obvious he had read the papers, that he had discovered her relationship with Nicholas. A thread of fear trickled down her spine and she was glad that Elias was there.

"A moment of your time is all I ask, nothing more. Considering the scandal in which you are currently immersed, I thought perhaps you might be in need a friend."

She scoffed. "You are hardly that, my lord. And if the 'scandal,' as you put it, has ended your ridiculous attempts to force me into marriage, then at least some good has come of it."

"You may rest assured, my dear, your dirty little affair with Ravenworth has indeed ended any thought of marriage. Still, there is a matter I wish to discuss and it would behoove you to listen."

She eyed him from top to bottom, disliking him more each time they met. Standing as tall as Nicholas but more heavily built, Oliver was not unattractive. Dressed in a dark brown tailcoat, white piqué waistcoat, and buckskin breeches, he looked every bit the gentleman. She knew only too well he was not.

"We may speak for a moment in the drawing room—as long as the doors are left open."

"But of course, my dear." He gave her a leering half-smile. "We wouldn't want to ruin your sterling reputation."

Elizabeth clamped down on her temper. She led him into the drawing room, but didn't offer him a seat, merely turned to face him. "All right, tell me why it is you have come."

Oliver smiled but the anger remained, simmering just beneath the surface, adding a ruddy tint to his complexion. "I was worried about you, of course. As a friend of your father's, I came to offer you my friendship and protection."

"Protection? The only protection I am in need of is protection from you."

"That is not quite the case and you know it. It is becoming quite clear that Ravenworth will soon be arrested. He'll be tried for murder, and quite frankly, there is every likelihood that he'll be found guilty. Your reputation is in shreds, the chance for a decent marriage long past. Every rake and rogue in the city will be trying to toss your skirts and Ravenworth won't be there to protect you. I, on the other hand, will be able to keep you safely sheltered from overzealous swains and vicious wagging tongues."

Her hands unconsciously fisted. "As your mistress." Sweet Jesu, she couldn't imagine anything worse.

"You are offended?" Bascomb's face turned hard. "There was a time not long ago that I wanted you for my wife. You chose the bed of a murderer instead."

"Lord Ravenworth did not kill Rachael Waning."

" 'Tis certain the courts will not agree. Warring will hang and you will be left a ruined woman." His lips curled unpleasantly. "I can protect you from that As my mistress, you'll be sheltered, live a life of luxury, and be safe from any man who might treat you with less than respect. You'll have everything you ever wanted and you will be safe."

"You—offering me protection. I find that most amusing." She turned her back to him, fighting to remain in control. Much of what the earl had said was true. She was now a woman of infamy. As the Wicked Earl's mistress, every man in the city would be trying to seduce her. "You know I will not agree." Even with her back turned, she could feel his smoldering rage, feel his eyes burning into her.

"Not today, perhaps. But in time you will have no choice. You belong to me, Elizabeth. Your dalliance with Ravenworth hasn't changed that. It has simply altered your future status from wife to mistress." He moved toward her, gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. "You may as well resign yourself. In a very short time, Ravenworth will be swinging from the gallows and I will be the man in your bed."

Elizabeth jerked away, too angry to speak. And frightened. She tried to tell herself she had no reason to be, that she was in no danger, but she couldn't quite make herself believe it.

At the silence, Elias stepped through the door, his stance filled with warning.

"Don't bother seeing me out," Bascomb said. "I believe I know the way."

She watched his controlled, purposeful strides, heard his footfalls in the foyer then the front door closing behind him, and still she did not move. For the first time since Rachael's murder, Oliver Hampton had returned to her thoughts. It occurred to her as it had before that he was a dangerous, ruthless man.

Ugly thoughts swirled in, frightening thoughts. She had believed that she would be safe from him once he discovered she was Nicholas's mistress. Instead, she found herself in even more danger. In truth, he was as wildly, insanely determined to have her as he had been before.

She thought of what he had done to Lord Tricklewood and Sir Robert Tinsley. Would he go as far as murder?

A shiver ran through her. Fear for herself meshed with a terrifying suspicion. It settled like a frozen lump in the pit of her stomach.