by Dawn Brower
“Emma!” her brother called from the threshold. “It is urgent. Come with me, please.”
Reese glanced over his shoulder at his friend and his heart twisted. Had something happened to Cara? Was Arch in the know? He started towards the corridor with Miss Atherton following in his wake.
“Did you find her?” Reese breathed out as soon as he reached his friend.
“Who?” Miss Atherton asked, reaching his side a second later as her brother shook his head.
Reese focused at the slight brunette. “Cara. Miss Beckett. Where is she?”
The girl looked from Reese and then to her brother. “She’s talking to Lord Chopwell.”
“For God’s sake,” Arch replied. “Where are they? Do you know where?”
She blinked at her brother. “Why?”
“Where the devil is she?” Reese demanded.
“Emma,” Arch continued, “where is she?”
Looking a bit panicked, the girl shrugged her response. “I left them in the yellow parlor.”
Arch shared a quick glance with Reese. “Follow me.”
“What’s wrong with Lord Chopwell?” Miss Atherton called after them as they rushed down the corridor, but neither Reese nor Arch slowed their pace even a little.
“Why is that man even here?” Reese growled. After all, Arch knew exactly what sort Chopwell was.
His friend breathed out a sigh. “I didn’t invite him. He’s an associate of my father’s.” He gestured at the upcoming corner. “Take a left here.”
“Hardly speaks well of your father.”
As they rounded the corner, Arch replied, “He only deals with him in parliament. I doubt he knows the things about him that we do.”
“Well, I would think you’d say something, then,” Reese said as they increased their pace. “He could have done something to your sister, you know?”
“Damn it all.”
Cara shifted a bit further away from Lord Chopwell on the settee and glanced once again to the door he’d closed upon their entrance. It still felt a little odd that he’d done so, but she didn’t want to make him think that she didn’t trust him. That was hardly the best way to win his lordship’s support in parliament.
“The Bermudians do have their own island,” he said, and slid the slightest bit closer to her.
Those words lit a fire in Cara’s belly, and the retort she’d learned at her father’s knee flew from her lips. “We are not trying to seize the Turks, my lord. No British colony can claim another colony as their own. As has always been the case, colonial lands have been open for common use.”
“That is true,” his lordship conceded. “However, the Turks have been considered part of The Bahamas for quite some time.”
“That annexation was sheer craftiness on their part, I assure you.” She shook her head. “The Bermudian people created the salt industry on the Turks. We made it what it is today and the Bahamian people now want the entire thing to themselves. They want to tax us for an industry they wouldn’t have without us. And as that land has always been open for common use, it is the height of unfairness.”
“The world is often unfair, Miss Beckett.”
Which was something she knew better than most. “But it’s a world we should all strive to live in, don’t you think?” She shook her head once more. “We don’t want to claim the Turks for ourselves. We don’t want to keep the Bahamians from using the land the same way we do. But they cannot say the same in return, my lord, and they have been more than underhanded in their dealings.”
He smiled slightly at that and slid closer to her once more. “You are rather passionate about this, aren’t you?”
Did she have another choice? “It is my livelihood, Lord Chopwell. That of my sisters. Being less passionate would ensure failure.”
“I do like a passionate woman.” He claimed her hand in his, which was surprising and more than inappropriate.
Before Cara could even try to tug her hand from his grasp, he pulled her closer to him and then crushed his lips against hers.
Shock paralyzed her for an instant before her wits came rushing back. Cara tried to free her hand and push him away, but the man tightened his grip, twisting her arm painfully behind her, and then he had her pinned beneath him, and she wasn’t sure how he'd done so. It had all happened so quickly.
“It’s better if you don’t fight,” he growled.
But everything inside her screamed against that. “Let me—”
He pressed his mouth against hers again with such force that she tasted blood, and panic swelled within Cara once more. She pushed against him with all of her might, but he was much stronger than she was, and her pushing had no effect on her circumstances, except for causing him to hold her even tighter.
“Please,” she begged from beneath him.
But he paid her no attention at all.
He tasted of cheroots and wine as he forced his tongue into her mouth, and Cara gagged as fear rippled through her.
And then she heard something tear. The sound didn’t make any sense at all until she felt his hand upon her suddenly bared breast and he was pawing at her like a beast.
Terror swamped her. She pushed harder. She kicked with everything she had. She scratched at his face.
And then, by God’s grace, he somehow flew across the length of the parlor.
Chapter 9
Blood from Chopwell’s nose spurted across Reese’s waistcoat after he landed his first punch, but that wasn’t nearly enough. He crushed his fist into the man’s eye and then his jaw, which sent the blackguard backward to the ground with a satisfying thud. Chopwell was out cold, but Reese would have picked him up and hit him again if he hadn’t heard Cara whimper somewhere behind him.
He turned around, and the sight that met his eyes nearly broke his heart. Cara’s bodice had been torn. Her red hair had been pulled from her chignon. Blood stained the side of her swollen mouth. Her cheeks were stained with tears, but it was the terror in her eyes that made his heart twist with pain.
“Oh, Cara,” he breathed out, rushing back toward the settee where he’d found that despicable villain trying to force himself on her.
He tore off his jacket to help cover her, but Arch beat him to it, offering Cara his clothing first. “Here you are, Miss Beckett,” his friend said before glancing back over his shoulder at Reese and adding quietly, “Yours is covered in blood.”
Reese glanced briefly at the stained jacket in his hand which throbbed liked the devil. He let the piece drop to the floor at his feet. “Cara,” he began, stepping around Arch to see her for himself. “Tell me he didn’t hurt you.” Which was a foolish thing to ask as the man had very clearly done so.
But she was crying too heavily to tell him anything at all, and the sound of her sobs was the most torturous thing Reese had ever heard. He tightened his fist again, ignoring the pain shooting up his arm. Damn it all. He shouldn’t have stopped until he’d killed the villain. He dropped onto his knees beside Cara on the settee and tucked his friend’s jacket around her shoulders like it was a blanket to shield her dignity.
“It’ll be all right, sweetheart.” He’d make sure it was one way or another.
A staggered breath escaped Cara. “I—I—I th—thought you were m—mad at me.”
Mad at her? What in the world? “I could never be mad at you.” Reese brushed his fingers against her damp cheek and the desire to make certain she never cried again took hold of him. How could she ever think he was mad at her?
“Darling,” Arch said, pulling Reese from his thoughts. “They’re all going to start leaving the dining hall soon.”
All of the men would start to make their way to the drawing room any minute, and the last thing Cara needed was for anyone to spot her in her present condition. Reese nodded in agreement, then his gaze locked with Cara’s once more. “I’m going to help you to your chambers, all right?”
From the other side of the parlor, Chopwell groaned and Cara’s attention darted towar
d the fallen man. “Pl—please.” She managed to nod.
“Don’t worry about him,” Reese whispered. “He’ll never come near you again, Cara.” Then he pushed to his feet, bent slightly, and slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back as he lifted her off the settee.
She whimpered, and Reese shifted her gently in his arms. She was so fragile, and she trembled in his grasp. Damn it all. How badly had Chopwell hurt her? The man still had his trousers on, but…Reese shook that thought away.
“I’ve got you,” he muttered for lack of anything else to say.
A moment later, Emma Atherton rushed into the room and halted right in her tracks as she saw Cara in Reese’s arms and Chopwell in a heap on the other side of the room. “Good heavens! What happened?” she breathed out.
“Emma.” Arch gestured toward the corridor. “Show Darling to Miss Beckett’s chambers. I’ll wait here with Chopwell.”
Reese looked over at his friend and said, “And don’t let him go anywhere, Atherton. I’m not finished with him yet.”
Everything was a blur. Cara couldn’t focus on any one thing as everything seemed to invade her senses at once. And it all came down to one glaring point. She was a fool who couldn’t manage anything.
She didn’t come close to filling Papa’s shoes. Back in St. George’s, Cait and Corinna were counting on her, but Cara couldn’t even take care of herself, let alone her sisters and Beckett Salt. She was completely over her head in every single way. She’d been lying to herself, thinking she could come to England in Papa’s stead, believing even for a moment that she could save them all from ruin.
She couldn’t even save herself from…from that awful Lord Chopwell. She’d never forget his hands on her, the evil look in his eye, the way she had no hope of freeing herself.
A whimper escaped her, and Reese tightened his hold on her. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said softly.
But it wasn’t all right. And nothing would ever be all right ever again. She’d failed. She…she didn’t even know who she was. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been so trusting? If she’d had any sense at all, she’d have never let herself get put in such a situation. She was nothing more than a complete idiot. And she couldn’t be trusted to make things right for Caitrin or Corinna or anyone else. She should just—
“This is her chamber.” She heard Emma’s voice somewhere off in the distance. Goodness, the girl seemed miles away, like the other side of a tunnel or some far off land that was like a memory of when the world made sense.
Then the lighting seemed darker as Reese carried her over a threshold and into a bedchamber, at least until Emma lit a lamp on a nearby table. A moment later, Reese placed her in the middle of a four-poster. Immediately, pain shot from her hand, and she couldn’t help but cry out.
“Cara?” Reese loomed over her, concern in his hazel eyes. “What is it?”
She could hardly find her voice between her sobs. “M-my hand. My wrist.”
He gently lifted her arm up for inspection, but moving it made her whimper once again. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed out. Then he glanced across the chamber at Emma. “Will you help her into something while I have the doctor sent for?”
“Yes, of course,” Emma said, worry lacing her voice.
And then Reese was gone, and Cara felt the loss of him immediately.
She could only cry as Emma rang for a bath and then helped remove her torn evening dress. She could only cry as maids filled a copper tub and when the hot bath water lapped against her skin. And she could only cry when Emma finally helped her into a nightrail. More tears came as she settled under the counterpane and then when Emma begged for forgiveness for leaving Cara alone with her attacker. But none of this was Emma’s fault. Cara was the fool and she had no one to blame except herself.
Reese stormed back down the stairs and all the way to the parlor where he’d left Atherton and that villain Chopwell. He only slowed when he heard the men’s voices drifting into the corridor and realized that the sadistic bastard had regained consciousness.
“…was her suggestion,” Chopwell wheezed out, sounding congested, but Reese was fairly certain he’d broken the blackguard’s nose.
Arch snorted. “Her suggestion?”
“The little whore offered to spread her legs in exchange for my support in parliament. Probably not the only time she’s done so. Look how she’s been hanging on Darling’s every word and even with that wager of his the talk of the Town.”
And then the fury inside Reese surged even more powerfully than before. He stalked into the parlor and made a direct path to Chopwell. He was going to kill the man right where he sat, slumped against the wall, holding a handkerchief to his nose.
But Arch quickly stepped in between them and placed a hand on Reese’s chest. “Keep your head.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
His friend nodded as though he thought the idea had merit, but then he said, “It would be murder.”
“He deserves nothing less,” Reese growled as the image of Cara’s bloody and bruised body flashed in his mind and as Chopwell’s words echoed in his head. Had his damned wager had anything to do with…
“Perhaps not,” his friend agreed. “But we’re not Neanderthals. We’re supposed to be civilized.”
Bollocks. Reese scoffed at the suggestion that Chopwell was civilized. The man who brutalized his wife regularly. The man who’d been banned from more than one bawdy house for his treatment of the girls inside. The man who had hurt Cara.
But Arch wanted him to handle this in a civilized manner? Very well. Reese flicked his gaze to the downed peer.
“Then name your second, Chopwell.” There was more than one way to kill the man, after all. And on a field of honor would do well enough.
Chopwell’s eyes rounded in surprise. “My second?” he echoed.
He wasn’t daft, but Reese spelled it out for him anyway. “I am calling you out. Name your second, and Atherton will find the fellow upon his return to London to work out the details.”
Arch dropped his hand from Reese’s chest and turned his full attention to the fallen man, waiting for an answer.
From the floor, Chopwell glanced from Arch to Reese and then back once more. He swallowed a bit nervously. “Um, my brother-in-law, Lord Michael Beck.”
Reese snorted. “If you think waiting on Atherton to travel to Wales and back will cool my temper, you are quite mistaken.”
But Chopwell shook his head. “He’s not in Wales. He arrived in Town last week.”
“I did bump into him at St. Giles’ a few days ago,” Arch said. “I know where to find him.”
Then it was settled. Reese glanced at his friend. “She needs a doctor,” he said and then turned on his heel to search out the Atherton butler.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave Atherton Park at once,” Arch informed Chopwell, his voice drifting down the corridor after Reese.
“I am a guest of your father’s,” the man protested.
“Not any longer. Not as of this moment,” Arch continued smoothly.
Reese drew his first relieved breath since he’d pulled the man off of Cara. At least she wouldn’t be under the same roof as that fiend tonight. Even still, he had half a mind to sit guard at her door until the sun rose in the sky.
Chapter 10
Waiting for the local Hadleigh doctor to finish seeing to Cara was excruciating. Reese retired to his chambers after acquiring a promise from one of the footmen to seek him out when the doctor was headed on his way out.
He tossed back a whisky, paced around the chamber and scowled out at the night sky from his window. Damn it all. Had that bloody wager of his somehow made Cara a target for the likes of Chopwell? His stomach roiled at the thought.
Finally, Reese couldn’t stand the wait any longer. He threw open his door and made a direct path to the family wing and to Cara’s chamber. Just as he turned a corner, he nearly collided with Arch, who was heading t
he opposite direction.
“I’m assuming Chopwell is gone?” Reese asked, keeping his voice low in case any one else stumbled upon them.
His friend agreed with a nod of his head. “I just left my father.” He heaved a sigh. “Told him everything. I’ll head to London at first light tomorrow morning and then right over to Lord Michael’s.”
Reese heaved a sigh of his own. “I’m sorry to drag you away from your family’s fair. I could’ve named Gates. I—”
“I’d have been put out if you’d named anyone else. I did find her when you did. I saw…”
Everything Reese had seen. Cara’s torn bodice, her bloodied and swollen mouth, the terror splashed across her face. Damn it all, he’d never get that image out of his mind if he swallowed a vat of whisky or lived to be a hundred. “I want him dead, Arch. Don’t let Lord Michael talk you into anything less.”
Arch nodded in agreement. “I will not let you down.” Then he glanced behind him. “You’re headed to see her?”
“That doctor of yours has been in there forever.” And every moment the man remained in Cara’s chambers sent another wave of panic washing over Reese. How bad were her injuries? Why would the doctor need so long to tend to her? Had she been hurt even worse than he’d originally thought? What if—
“I’ll go with you,” Arch offered. “Emma probably needs a respite from her watch anyway.”
Reese gestured down the corridor toward Cara’s chamber. “You sister has been very kind to her.”
“Emma likes her,” Arch said as the two of them fell into step together. “Thinks they could be the best of friends someday.” Then he cast Reese a sidelong glance. “But I don’t think she’s the only one who likes Miss Beckett.”
Was there someone else? Someone Reese hadn’t notice? “Who?”
A soft laugh escaped Arch. “You, you dolt. I saw the way you looked at her all afternoon.”