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

by Olivia Bennet

  They all exited the carriage, Holburn reeking of gin and stumbling slightly but not too much. He was a nobleman after all, he had his dignity. Duncan smiled as he watched him go, thinking that the man might have done well in the theatre.

  He waited until Holburn had been in the brothel for ten minutes before slipping around the back. The guard had been bribed to let him in; he was supposed to be the love-struck suitor of one of the girls seeking only to see her for a few minutes. The guard, newly married, with a wife to support and a weakness for lovers, was only too happy to accept two gold sovereigns to let him in.

  He also provided Duncan with a torch to light his way and pointed him to the back stairs. Nodding gratefully, Duncan crept forward, unable to believe he was actually doing this.

  “You’re mad, old man,” he murmured to himself even as he ducked into a closet as he heard sharp footsteps approach. He held his breath until they passed him by and then continued down the corridor to the second set of stairs. Happily the third floor only had three rooms and he only had to open the first one to find her.

  “Duncan!” she breathed, eyes widening with shock as she shot to her feet, “What…?”

  “Shh, we have to go,” he strode forward and grabbed her by the hand. She turned her head to look into a corner and that was when he noticed the second person, clearly some sort of maid.

  “I…” Emily hesitated and Duncan reached into his pocket and pulled out his pistol.

  “Do you intend to make trouble?” he pointed the pistol at the serving girl even as he asked. She gasped, her face pale with fear and shook her head frantically.

  “N-no,” she whispered.

  “Good. Emily, tie her up.”

  Emily looked from him to the serving girl and back.

  “We do not have time, Emily. Tie her up now.”

  Emily nodded, darting forward to pull the serving girl toward the bed. She pushed her down onto it and then kneeled down as if to pick something up off the floor. Duncan frowned, wondering what the devil she was doing.

  The clanking of iron alerted him and had him peering at her hands. His eyes widened in shock.

  Did they keep her in shackles?

  The erstwhile governess tied her prisoner securely with the shackles before reaching for a piece of cloth and gagging her mouth. Duncan nodded in approval.

  “Good girl. Now let us get out of here before someone catches us.”

  He reached for her hand and pulled and was surprised when she resisted.

  “Wait!” she whispered.

  “What is it? And can it possibly wait until we are out of here?”

  “No! It cannot. He has my Father!” she was whispering loudly, her eyes intent on his face, “You must go and rescue him first.”

  “What? No. I am not leaving you.”

  “You have to! If I leave this room and my Father is still captured, and they find out…” she stared bleakly at him.

  Duncan sighed heavily, cursing under his breath. “Fine. I shall go and rescue him. But wear your boots and be ready to go when I return. Do you happen to know where he is?”

  She nodded vigorously. “He’s in the storage room behind the kitchens. I think they have a guard watching him.”

  “The storage room? That is four floors down. I cannot go and leave you here. Let us go together.”

  “No! I’m staying here until you get him, now go! Hurry.”

  Duncan huffed in frustration but she was already pushing him toward the door so he had no choice but to leave. Just before she closed the door in his face he turned to face her, “Do not let anyone in, do you hear me? When I come back, I will knock three times, pause and knock another three times. Until then, stay safely inside.”

  She nodded her agreement and he paused outside until he heard her lock the door from inside. Luckily the key had been in the lock on the outside and all he’d had to do was pass it to her.

  He rushed down the stairs until he reached the ground floor. Revelry was in full swing with men and women mingling freely in all the rooms. He pretended to be just another patron coming down from the rooms upstairs and made as if he was still buttoning his breeches.

  He slipped down the back stairs as soon as he was sure nobody was looking and down to the basement. It was dark and he had not been able to bring his torch. However, at the end of the corridor, he could see a flickering light and headed toward it. He placed his ear against the door and could hear from inside, the sound of a man’s voice rising and falling as if in complaint.

  He turned the latch of the door and was surprised when it opened at once. Peering into the room he caught sight of an older gentleman, wearing just a shirt and breeches, his stockings all askew. His hands were tied in front of him and the rope wound around a wooden pole in the middle of the room. To one side, standing against the wall was a burly man, clearly a bodyguard.

  The guard looked toward Duncan in surprise and he whipped out his pistol before the man could say anything. “Untie him,” he ordered gesturing with his chin at Mr. Fletcher.

  The guard hesitated, looking Duncan up and down as if thinking that he could win in a fight against him. Duncan cocked his pistol. “Do not make me shoot you,” he said coldly.

  The man immediately straightened up and walked toward the older man, unwinding the rope from the pole and then untying his hands.

  “Good. Now you, Mr. Fletcher, take the rope and tie the guard’s hands.”

  Emily’s father hastened to comply, much to Duncan’s relief. A shuffle in the corridor behind him had him stiffening, afraid to take his hands off the guard for an instant but wondering if he was about to be ambushed.

  “Hurry up,” he hissed at Mr. Fletcher and to his relief, the man did just that. A wave of hysterical laughter tried to escape Duncan but he held it in.

  What a way to meet one’s future father-in-law!

  He stopped short at the thought, realizing that he had made up his mind already about the next step to this mad adventure. A lightness suffused him, now that the decision was made. All he had to do was get them all out of the brothel, safely.

  Mr. Fletcher finished tying up the guard and Duncan gestured for the older man to precede him.

  “Who are you?” Mr. Fletcher whispered.

  “Duncan Kinsley, the Earl of Sulby at your service.” Duncan nodded to him in greeting. Emily’s father just gaped at him in reply. He wondered how he was to get the man out of the building without being noticed but as they stepped up the stairs into the kitchen, he noticed a hooded cloak such as the one his housekeeper wore to market. He unhooked it, handing it to his companion.

  “Wear this. Make sure your face is covered,” he whispered.

  Mr. Fletcher took the cloak and wore it. To Duncan’s relief, it covered him quite completely. They walked down the darkened corridor, toward the back door and Duncan dug in his pocket for another gold sovereign. The guard saw them coming, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t say anything about leaving with someone,” he protested.

  Duncan handed him the gold sovereign. “I’m not leaving with him. He’s going out on his own and I am staying inside. He was with my love as I went to see her and has magnanimously agreed to leave us alone, but he doesn’t want to pay for a session he did not have, you understand don’t you?”

  The guard nodded slowly, looking skeptical but willing to stretch his belief for the gold. He stood aside and let Mr. Fletcher pass. “Your carriage is across the street I believe.” Duncan said, widening his eyes significantly at the older man. Mr. Fletcher nodded and ambled off and Duncan was relieved that he seemed to understand what they were doing. He hurried back to the third floor, where Emily was waiting by the door.

  “Did you get him?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he pulled her impatiently out of the room as he answered.

  “Where is he?”

  “Outside, where we should be as well before someone comes looking for you.”

  “Oh yes,” Emily surged ahead of him, almost running do
wn the stairs. Duncan realized that he had been so set on getting in, he had not really thought of a way to get her out.

  Suddenly there was a sound on the stairs as heavy footsteps approached. Duncan grabbed Emily and pushed her into a room, following closely behind her and closing the door. They held their breath, trying to be quiet as they waited. The footfalls continued on, up the stairs and they waited until they could hear nothing before creeping out of the room again.

  They were just stepping down to the ground floor when a huge outcry was raised and running footsteps could be heard. “Stop them! Don’t let her out!”

  Emily froze, looking terrified and Duncan hesitated for a moment, not knowing which way to go. He looked this way and that as patrons and girls alike poured into the corridor, trying to find out what the hullabaloo was about.

  “Stop them!” someone screamed from above as footsteps thundered on the stairs.

  “Wa’s goinon?” a redheaded girl asked, as she walked toward them, breasts spilling out of her extremely low-necked gown.

  “How should I know? What a commotion. I am leaving,” Duncan declared and began to pull Emily toward the door.

  “Wait a minute! You cannot leave with a girl!” a golden-haired woman said, staring at him in horror. Suddenly Holburn appeared, loud and noisy.

  “What’s going on here? I thought you were here for my entertainment. What is everybody doing in the corridor? Do you not want my gold coins anymore?” he asked the milling crowds at large. Immediately there was a surge toward him and most of the people returned with him to the parlor.

  Duncan felt a heavy bit of gratitude toward his friend. He pulled Emily along, marching past the bouncer, all his nobleman’s haughtiness on display. In any case, the man was busy looking toward the brothel, trying to find the source of the bellowing coming ever closer.

  They hurried across the street and into the carriage where Emily’s father had ensconced himself in the corner.

  “Papa!” she whispered reaching out a hand to squeeze his. “Are you all right?”

  “Are you all right is the question,” her father replied squeezing back, “What has Blackmore done to you?”

  He looked down at her gown in horror. That was when Duncan noticed that her neckline was just about as low as the golden-haired girl’s had been. Her face was painted, cheeks and mouth stained red but the rest of her whitened with paste. There was kohl around her eyes.

  Clearly tonight was going to be a working night for her.

  “Nothing yet,” her voice was soft and breathless and she did not meet his eyes. He reached out and squeezed her hand tight.

  “We got you out of there,” he assured her softly.

  The door of the carriage opened and the Bow Street Runner looked in. “Good, you have her? You’d best get out of here, before all hell breaks loose.”

  “But what about Holburn?”

  The Bow Street Runner grinned. “He said to go. He will make his own way home as he is not finished distracting the locals.”

  Duncan shook his head with a smile before hitting the roof with his cane. “We shall reconvene at my home in the morning then. Can we take you somewhere?”

  The man shook his head, “No. I shall hang around here as well, and make sure your friend is unharmed.”

  Duncan was grateful to them both for their help. But now he had to turn his attention to Emily. He could see that her body was shaking. She had lost quite a bit of weight and she looked exhausted. He wanted to wrap her in something warm and put her to bed. But first they had to get home.

  He unfurled the cloak from his own shoulders and drew it around her, concealing her body. She turned to him with grateful eyes. “I knew you would come for me,” she whispered.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “How could you know such a thing?”

  She smiled shyly. “I just did.”

  Duncan leaned back in the carriage, embarrassed to realize he was blushing a little bit. Emily looking at him as if he were a knight in shining armor made him feel things inside. And now was absolutely not the time for that.

  “Let’s get you home. The children have missed you.”

  She smiled sadly. “They have? Well, I have missed them as well. It’ll be good to see them again, if only to say goodbye.”

  Chapter 28

  Emily sat frozen in her seat, afraid to step out and face her future. She was more than a little embarrassed at her situation. She was a painted trollop with a gown made to be easily ripped off. How could she walk out the carriage and go and face her charges, knowing these things?

  The Earl poked his head back into the carriage. “Are you coming?”

  “I-I-I…” she shivered, unable to articulate her fear.

  “Come. Mrs. Cooke is waiting. You can take the back stairs. Nobody will see you.”

  Emily exhaled with relief, glad he understood without her having to say the words. He held his hand out and she took it, stepping slowly out of the carriage into the darkness of night. He preceded her to the side door, which led directly to the stairs. She was able to climb up to her room, unobserved by anyone, the Earl with her every step of the way.

  She did not know why he was accompanying her. After all, it wasn’t as if she did not know the way. But she was glad of his large warm presence beside her. He opened the door to her chamber and stood back for Emily to enter.

  Mrs. Cooke was waiting inside, a wooden tub of steaming water in the middle of the room. Emily felt tears gather in her eyes, so grateful for the consideration.

  “I will leave you to it,” the Earl said slowly before stepping back and closing the door. Emily stared for a moment before turning to Mrs. Cooke. The housekeeper took a step toward her and enveloped Emily in her arms. Emily sunk into her, feeling grateful for the soft warmth of Betsey’s bosom. The only thing that would have felt better was having her own mother back again.

  “Are you all right?” Betsey whispered.

  Emily closed her eyes, tears squeezing out. “I’m fine. I’m well. Thank you.”

  “Come, let us get the stink of cheap scents off you and give you a nice warm bath.”

  “Yes, please. Thank you.”

  She let the housekeeper undress her and help her into the tub where she sank back in relief. The housekeeper ran gentle fingers up and down her body, fingers drifting along the bags under her eyes, Betsey’s own eyes soft with regret.

  “You have suffered,” she said gently.

  Emily smiled. “Just a little maybe. But I’m here now and that is a great relief to me.”

  “We shall look after you. You look like you could do with a good meal.”

  “I would not say no to some bread and cheese.”

  “Oh, I think we can manage a bit more than that.” Mrs. Cooke pursed her lips in disapproval.

  “Don’t put yourself out on my account.”

  “Trust me, I do not mind at all.”

  Feeling much better–and cleaner–after her bath, Emily changed into one of her own night gowns, the relief of the cotton welcome. She followed Mrs. Cooke to the kitchen where the housekeeper plied her with food until she was unable to eat anymore.

  “Lord Sulby requested, if you are not too tired, that you meet him in his study after your meal.”

  “Oh…he did?” Emily’s heart sunk. She had hoped to have at least one day before Duncan dismissed her from his home. After all, if he had gone so far as to rescue her from the brothel, he must care for her at least a little.

  But she had lied to him, quite severely. She could not blame him for wanting her out of his home. She stood up slowly and walked down the darkened corridor as slowly as she could. She nodded to the footman, and he smiled at her, welcoming her back softly. These people were so kind to her, it made her even more miserable at the thought of leaving them all.

  She raised her hand and knocked on the door.

  “Enter.”

  The Earl sounded upset and Emily took a deep breath, closed her eyes and said a small prayer before openi
ng the door. She smiled tentatively at the Earl and he smiled back which was a relief.

  “Emily. You’re looking better.”

  She wrapped her robe more tightly around her trying not to blush. Duncan had seen her in her garish clothing.

  What he must think of me!

  “Yes, I suppose I do.”

  “Have a seat, won’t you?”

  She dropped into the armchair across his desk, her heart pounding erratically as she waited for the verdict. She kept her eyes on her feet, hands crossed, poised for anything.