A Wicked Earl she can't Resist: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia Bennet

  Today, Betsey had asked her what had happened between her and the Earl and she almost lost it. Why the housekeeper would wait until today to ask was beyond Emily’s current ability to understand.

  Needless to say she’d never be ready to talk about that.

  She almost snapped at Betsey but instead she’d foregone her usual nightly cocoa and come out to sit in the garden. The deep blue sky was bright, and she could clearly see the stars twinkling. It reminded her so poignantly of simpler times, standing on the balcony with the children and the Earl, pointing out constellations.

  I miss him so much.

  She could admit it to herself, out here in the garden when she was alone. She wished he could come back so that they could talk. If he wanted her gone from his life, then she would go. If he wanted her to stay, then she would…in whatever capacity he desired. This endless limbo was fraying her nerves to the quick.

  A quiet footfall had her on her feet in an instant, face eager.

  Has he come to me, here in the place where we kissed for the first time?

  It had to mean that all was forgiven. Her heart sped up with eagerness and fear. She opened her mouth to call his name.

  Someone else emerged from the shadows though. A visage she’d hoped never to see again.

  “No,” she whispered, heart stopping and dropping.

  He smiled slowly, evilly at her. “Oh yes, Miss Fletcher. Did you think you could hide from me forever?”

  She began to wheeze, her eyes darting about here and there, looking for escape.

  “Tut. Tut.” He waggled his finger at her as if she were a recalcitrant school girl. “Don’t even think about running. If I have to chase you, rest assured that I will take it out of your hide. You will not like it.”

  She stood stock still, not moving a muscle while wondering if she was a coward not to try and escape him.

  “I must say that I am impressed with your resourcefulness. I would never have imagined you, here, hiding right under my nose. Mayfair? When we have more time, you must tell me how you pulled this off.”

  Emily swallowed hard, not saying a word.

  Mr. Blackmore nodded. “All right then, let’s get you back where you belong shall we?” he reached out, grabbing for her hand and she could not help herself. She moved out of his reach and then turned and ran.

  Perhaps I can get to the house and ask someone for help!

  Even as she thought it, she collided against a hard barrier, stumbling backwards and almost falling. A strong arm caught hold of her, surrounding her wrist like a steel band. Bosom heaving, she glared at the man. He was taller than Laurence, dressed in breeches and a shirt.

  He might be a coachman or simply a hired hand.

  She had no idea.

  “Please, sir,” she tried to plead, “Let me go.”

  He ignored her, his eyes on something behind her. She could hear the slow footfalls approaching. “I told you that if you ran, the consequences would be commensurate. Just remember that you made your bed, and now you will lie in it.”

  Emily didn’t know what that meant but it did not stop cold grue from shivering down her spine. She tried to keep her face blank, and not show just how terrified she was; but she could not stop her bosom from heaving or her hands from shaking.

  “Bring her,” Mr. Blackmore hissed and the tall man manhandled her over to the small side gate that hardly anyone bothered to lock. It was well hidden in the back of the compound, only accessible through a narrow, bushy path that hardly anyone knew was there.

  How did he find out about it?

  Emily herself only knew of this gate because Lady Anne and Lord Essex had taken her exploring one day. They’d told her that their mother had often brought them this way, to search for interesting insects and vegetation, and that it was a shortcut to Hyde Park. Emily had felt sorry for them, seeing how much they clearly missed Lady Sulby. She had also felt down, knowing that she could probably never measure up to the woman Lady Sulby had been.

  She had no desire to take their mother’s place. But she had acknowledged that day, that she wanted them to love her, just a little bit.

  What a fool I am.

  She let regrets and recriminations run freely through her mind as she castigated herself for not realizing that Laurence Blackmore would never have left her alone.

  Of course he wouldn’t. What had he said about me being worth a lot of money?

  After all, the only thing she was good for was benefiting other people in some way. She really should have seen this coming. Now nobody in the house would know where she’d disappeared to. They would probably just assume she’d taken off in the middle of the night.

  Chapter 25

  Emily tried to open her eyes but something hindered her. She wondered for a moment if she was blind and tried to raise her hands to her face to see if she could see them. But she could not move.

  She whimpered in fear, only then realizing that there was a piece of cloth in her mouth, hindering her ability to speak. She tried to move and although she could wiggle a bit on her hips, her legs were tied. Her hands were tied. She was blindfolded. And there was a gag around her mouth.

  Everything came back to her then. Laurence Blackmore coming up to her in the gardens.

  How did he get in?

  The other man, the large one, had grabbed her and propelled her along. She had fought him, tried to bite his arm even after they’d gotten her out of the compound. They led her toward Hyde Park as she pulled against him. Suddenly the big man turned around, and knocked her on the head and she knew no more.

  Now her head was throbbing and she was dizzy and disoriented. She knew she was lying on something hard but could not tell what it was.

  The surface felt too hard to be a bed, so Emily decided she must be on the floor of a room. She inhaled deeply, trying to recognize any sounds or smells that might tell her where she was. There was a slightly musty smell as if the room she was in was in disuse. She pricked her ears, terrified of hearing any shuffling sounds that might indicate vermin.

  In spite of growing up on a farm, the thought of vermin gave her the grue. She tried to shout but no sound escaped through her gag. She had no idea how long she had even been here.

  Slumping backwards, her back collided with a hard surface.

  Is it a wall?

  She rubbed her back against it and decided that yes, it was a wall.

  Where am I? Somebody please help me!

  She was screaming in her head even knowing it did no good. She began to struggle, trying to free her hands.

  “Settle down!” the voice was low and bored sounding, from somewhere in front of her. Knowing that there was someone near made her increase her efforts.

  Help!

  She tried to shout it through her gag but all that came out was muffled sound.

  “If you don’t settle down, I’ll have to go and get the bouncer. You don’t want that do you?”

  Emily stilled, recognizing the voice at last. It was Madam Bainbridge. If there was anyone she would not have liked to see again as much as Laurence Blackmore, it was her. Emily knew there was no help she would be given. Not from this woman. Still, she wriggled about, trying to get the bindings off her hands.

  There was a long tired sigh and then someone grabbed her shoulder, pushing her backwards until her head hit the wall. Long-nailed fingers dug into her blindfold, and pushed it down, so that she could see again. Her entire vision was blocked by Madam Bainbridge’s cold-blue eyes however as the woman glared at her. “I said, settle down.”

  Emily’s breath was heaving with fear. She did not know what they meant to do with her and why she needed to be tied up for it; but she could no more stop herself from fighting than she could stop breathing.

  “Please,” she tried to say although the word came out in an incoherent jumble of sounds understandable to no one.

  Madam Bainbridge looked her over before getting to her feet without returning the blindfold. “Now you were a very naughty
girl to disappear like that. But don’t worry, the sawbones’ had a look at you and you’re still intact. Which means no harm done. Isn’t that lucky?”

  Madam Bainbridge smiled at her before returning to her seat. Emily looked around her, trying to fathom where this nightmare was taking place. She didn’t recognize the room. It was different to the one she’d been brought to on the first and only night of her stay in the brothel.

  This room was smaller, a little shabbier with dust dotting the floor and the window made of wooden slats rather than glass. There was a bed, and a table in front of her and she was half-lying on the floor, her back leaning on the wall, body awkwardly hunched over.

  Her feet and hands were tied tightly with cloth. She was still in her shift and not much else. She shivered, not knowing if it was out of cold or fear. Madam Bainbridge ignored her as she fiddled with several instruments which Emily did not recognize. She had a feeling she didn’t want to.

  Madam Bainbridge’s words ran through her mind.

  You’re still intact…isn’t that lucky?

  Emily scrunched her eyes shut, regretting fervently that the Earl had not done more than kiss her and touch her body with passion. Clearly there was something more to intercourse than she realized.

  Duncan…

  She could not believe that the first time she was able to call him by his given name was in this filthy place, awaiting her doom with no hope.

  Why did I go out into the garden? Why didn’t I stay inside?

  She choked as the bitterness ate at her, eyes blinking to dispel the blur of tears. Madam Bainbridge sighed, rolling her eyes. “All this wailing and carrying on is tedious and useless. Can you not sit quietly and stop fidgeting?”

  Emily blinked up at her, eyes open wide and pleading, trying to appeal to some spark of humanity Madam Bainbridge must have. The woman huffed, turning back to her instruments and paid Emily no mind.

  Duncan felt his heart speeding up as he walked up the stairs. So much so that his breath came a little short. The door opened before he could reach for it, with Mrs. Cooke filling up the frame, hands wringing. “Oh, My Lord, thank heavens you’re back. I was beside myself trying to think what to do.”

  Duncan cocked his eyebrow. “What has happened?”

  “It’s Em-er, Miss Fletcher. She simply disappeared last night.”

  Duncan felt his heart drop. “Disappeared? What does that mean?”

  “She went to bed last night but…” Mrs. Cooke shook her head, “That was the last we saw of them.”

  “How? Are you saying somebody took her from her bed? Or did she leave?”

  “Leave? No no, she did not just leave! You have to believe me; she would not do that.”

  Duncan narrowed his eyes. He had the feeling he was missing something important. “What do you think happened to her?”

  Mrs. Cooke looked away with a sigh. “I…”

  Duncan moved closer. “Do not lie to me or prevaricate. Tell me what you know.”

  Mrs. Cooke’s shoulders slumped as her face fell in defeat. “She told me this in confidence and if I did not fear for her life…”

  Duncan was grabbing her hand and squeezing it hard before he could think. “Tell me now, Mrs. Cooke. Where do you think she is?”

  Mrs. Cooke looked around. “Come with me, somewhere more private.”

  Duncan led her to his study, shutting the door behind her and then wheeling around to face her. “All right, this is private enough. Tell me.”

  She nodded, “Yes…well, Miss Fletcher…she…well,” the housekeeper rubbed her arms anxiously.

  “Mrs. Cooke, if you truly believe Miss Fletcher is in danger, every minute you waste dithering is a minute less that she has.”

  The housekeeper gasped, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. All right then, Miss Fletcher came to the city from Whitehaven. She came with a man who had declared to her father that he meant to marry her. Instead, he decided to put her to work…in his brothel.”

  Duncan gasped.

  “She…she escaped, on the first night and ran off without knowing where she was going. It was her first time in the city.”

  Duncan could not help it. He approached the housekeeper, looming over her, willing her to finish. He fisted his hands, willing himself not to interrupt.

  “God was on her side for she ran to a church and the clergy was just finishing his last mass. He took her home.”

  Duncan let out a breath he had not been aware he was holding.

  “What happened next?”

  “The wife…she was Miss Fletcher’s reference.”

  Duncan turned away with a sigh. “And a glowing one she gave.”

  “Indeed. She was kind. But also observant. And she saw how well Em–Miss Fletcher did with children. She knew she would be good…and she was right.” Mrs. Cooke gave him a challenging stare, daring him to contradict her words.

  “And so? What? You think that the brothel owner has come for her? That she is of that much value to this gentleman?”

  “Forgive me for being crude My Lord, but I must! He proposed to sell her purity. She escaped before he could. Do you not think that he will ensure that he gets what he wanted now he has her in his clutches?”

  “We do not know that he has.”

  “We can infer it quite strongly. Phineas reported having seen a strange man lurking across the street yesterday. And Mary said that Lady Nancy spoke with a gentleman when they went to the bookshop yesterday who said he was looking for a young lady.”

  Duncan frowned. “And have you asked Lady Nancy about this?”

  “Of course not, My Lord.” She flapped her hands in agitation, “Tis hardly my place.”

  “Indeed.” Duncan pursed his lips to contain his annoyance. “Well, could you have her summoned to me at once?”

  Miss Cooke bowed, “Right away, My Lord.”

  She hurried off, looking unburdened now that her worry was shared, leaving Duncan with his head reeling in shock.

  How did I not know any of this? Why did she not tell me? Would she ever have told me? Emily knew he despised lies…

  That’s probably why she did not tell me.

  He dropped down into his chair, feeling defeated. How was he supposed to find her in this teeming city with its thousands of people and no doubt huge array of brothels? No doubt Holburn might know something about the brothel owners in town.

  Perhaps I should ask him.

  But first he had to speak to his daughter and find out what strange men she had been speaking to in the middle of town. She knew quite well that she was forbidden from talking to strangers. He did not understand why she would carry on an entire conversation just where absolutely anyone could see!

  What is the matter with that girl?

  He swallowed his exasperation as he heard a soft knock on the door and then the girl herself stepped in the room, looking mildly curious and slightly annoyed. “Papa, I was having breakfast. Could whatever it is not have waited?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “You were speaking to strange men in the street yesterday and you want to know if it can wait or not?”

  His daughter stiffened, and her eyes widened ever so slightly. That was the only indication that something might be amiss. It was however, enough. Duncan had seen Jane do the same thing many a time.

  “Nancy? I will have to insist that you be absolutely honest with me. The life of your governess might depend on it.”

  Nancy paled. “Life?”

  Duncan moved closer. “Yes. Her life. Come, tell me what you know.”

  Nancy swallowed, turning away, “I…he said she was his bride. That she ran away from him.”

  “Oh? And you believed him?”

  “I had no reason to doubt it. He made a lot of sense. It explained why there was something disingenuous about her. Clearly she was running from something. She abandoned her husband.”

  “That is what he told you? And without verifying it, without at least asking her first, you told him where s
he was?”

  His daughter raised her chin defiantly. “I just told him where he could find her, so they could talk or reconcile. I wasn’t trying to do any harm.”

  Duncan gritted his teeth, fisting his hands to stop the words trying to emerge from his mouth. “Well…you did do harm. What was this man’s name? Did he tell you? Did you let him into the house?”

  Nancy shook her head quickly but her cheeks were flushed. “H-his name was Laurence Blackmore and n-no, of course I did not.”