“Yes,” Lukas nodded. “With all the Viscount’s contacts, the girl wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
“It was Alfred Montrose who stepped in. He took the girl to his Harley Street doctor, stayed until she was treated, took her home, and negotiated the financial arrangements,” Dominic explained.
“It is difficult to know what I should do with this information,” Lukas murmured. “I believe the Viscount would think very hard before harming someone like Valentina, but one never knows.”
“This is up to you,” Dominic said. “After seeing the pictures I felt rather, um, uncomfortable, that I asked you to find an interesting woman to provide a distraction for Robson. Before I pursued the story it was just a rumor, many rumors are exaggerated, or not factual at all, but then…”
“Thank you, Dominic,” Lukas nodded. “I understand, and I appreciate it very much.”
Returning his satchel to the side of his chair, Dominic picked up his coffee.
“May I ask,” Lukas continued, placing the photographs back in the envelope, “how you came by these?”
“I’m afraid that’s confidential, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”
“Of course, I shouldn’t have asked,” Lukas apologized.
“It is human, to be curious,” Dominic said. “I too, am curious, do you think you will you mention something to Valentina?”
“I’m not sure. I might have a quiet word with Robson, I’ve heard some gossip, that sort of thing. Give him a serious warning, but it’s very early days, though Valentina does seem interested, which is most unusual for her.”
“That coffee, as the English say, hit the spot, and now I must be on my way,” Dominic declared, rising from his chair. “I have another very important errand to run.”
“How is Vivien? The news about the engagement being called off has been all over the tabloids. Is she managing all right?” Lukas asked, standing up to walk Dominic to the door.
“I’m making sure of it. She was working in Paris so that took her mind off the whole thing. I can’t thank you enough for your help, Lukas.”
“It was nothing compared to all you have done for me, my friend,” Lukas smiled, shaking his hand.
As they walked out to the foyer, Dominic noticed a large crate leaning against the wall.
“Is that…?”
“Yes, my portrait, ready to transport home. It is very dear to my heart,” Lukas grinned.
“Goodbye, and I will see you before you leave,” Dominic promised.
Lukas opened the front door, and Dominic, satchel over his shoulder, stepped out into the cold day, and marched to the street to hail a cab.
While Dominic’s visit with Lukas had taken some time, Vivien’s meeting had lasted only a few minutes. An international cosmetics giant was launching a revolutionary new cream, and the hunt was on for just the right face. The CEO, Marvin Freeberg, was in London for a quick stop, and had contacted Ben Marshall, asking if it would be possible to spend five minutes with Vivien McKay.
She’d been ushered in to meet the man the moment she’d arrived, and when he’d laid eyes on her creamy, porcelain complexion, Marvin Freeberg knew she was the one.
“I’m sure we can work out an equitable arrangement,” he’d remarked, “and I apologize for the brevity of this meeting. I’m afraid my schedule is very tight, but it has truly been a great pleasure to meet you.”
She’d floated out of the room, thrilled at her abrupt abundance of work.
My life is turning into a fairy tale, she’d thought as she’d sat down in the reception room.
Eager to retrieve her mobile phone and call Dominic, she’d been shocked that it rang just as she’d grabbed it, but she’d been even more surprised that it was Robson’s name showing on her screen. Her initial reaction had been to ignore him, but she knew how relentless Robson could be, so she decided to accept the call and get it over with.
“Hi, Robson. I’m surprised to hear from you,” she’d said softly.
“Why?” he’d asked, his voice calm.
“I thought you’d still be angry.”
“No, Vivien, I’m not angry,” he’d said smoothly. “I’ve had some time to think, and you probably would have been restless as my wife. You’re a career girl, and I would not have allowed you to work once we were married.”
“I’m so happy to hear you say that, Robson. I’m glad we can part friends,” she’d sighed. I knew I had nothing to worry about.
“I want to give you something,” Robson continued, “a piece of jewelry that I always thought was made for you. Remember the tear drop sapphire and diamond pendant, and the matching earrings?”
“Of course, that set was my favorite.”
“I know, and I want you to have it. We were almost married, and I know I gave you some jewelry while we were together, but nothing of that caliber. You deserve it, Vivien, and I hope you will accept it.”
“My gosh, Robson, I don’t know what to say. That is so generous, but I’m not sure I should-”
“I insist,” he pressed. “Are you free at the moment? Perhaps you could come over for some tea. I’m home now. Please let me do this for you. We can call it our final goodbye.”
She’d paused, remembering the promise she’d made to Dominic, but meeting Robson at his home, where Chambers was always lurking around, and the servants were always coming and going, how could anything go wrong, and the jewelry…how could she say no to that? So she’d agreed, and as Dominic was saying his goodbye’s to Lukas, Vivien was on her way to see Robson.
Waiting for her arrival, Robson was in his study pacing. The moment she’d said yes to his invitation, he’d handed Chambers a credit card, and told him to take the staff out for a long lunch, any restaurant of his choosing.
The last minute kindness wasn’t uncommon. Robson was known for his unexpected bursts of generosity, and while his employees assumed he just wanted them out of the house for a couple of hours, they weren’t complaining. Five minutes after he’d handed Chambers the card, the house was empty.
As he paced he smiled. The thin cane, the rope, and the ball gag were sitting neatly on his desk. His plan was foolproof, and the silly girl had not just taken the bait, but had provided him with everything he needed to make a fool of her if she dared complain to the authorities.
The photographs she’d had taken with Gustav showed how much she loved BDSM. If the police did come knocking, he tell them that she’d called, begging him to cane her one last time, just as their way of saying goodbye. It would be her word against his, and he had the photographs; it was perfect. Even Alfred would have agree the plan was well thought-out, and Robson laughed out loud, thrilled at the prospect of striping Vivien’s naked bottom.
A short distance away, Dominic was being ushered into the drawing room at the home of Lord Alfred Montrose.
“I must say, I was surprised to get your call yesterday afternoon,” Alfred declared. “When you said it was confidential, I felt as if I was in a James Bond movie. All very cloak and dagger, I must say, but where are my manners? May I get you anything? Tea, coffee?”
“No, thank-you, Lord Montrose,” Dominic replied.
“Call me, Alfred, and you must tell me what this is all about. I’m completely intrigued.”
“It’s a very serious matter, and I think this will make it clear,” Dominic said gravely, opening his satchel and handing him a manila envelope.
Frowning, Alfred opened the flap, and as he withdrew the pictures, Dominic saw the color drain from his face.
“Before you say you have no idea what they are, or who the girl is, please don’t,” Dominic said solemnly. “I know the entire story.”
Alfred immediately stuffed the photographs back in the envelope, and moved quickly to an ornate desk set against a far wall.
“How much?” he asked, sitting in high-backed, black leather chair, and opening a drawer.
“I don’t want your money,” Dominic said, walking over to him.
“You m
ust want something,” Alfred declared. “What is it?”
Dominic could hear the quaking in his voice; the man was truly worried.
“It’s about Vivien McKay. I know you care about the Viscount, and I care about Vivien. Keep him away from her, make sure he doesn’t stir up any trouble for her, and those photos will never see the light of day.”
“He’s not the easiest man to-”
“This isn’t a debate,” Dominic interrupted. “Find a way.”
Alfred swallowed, and was about to reassure Dominic that he would do all he could, when his phone rang, and pulling it from his pocket, he saw it was Robson.
“I need to answer this,” Alfred said nervously. “Hello?”
Dominic watched Alfred closely, and knew it was panic crossing his face as he listened to his caller. As an artist, Dominic had studied expressions his entire life, and there was no doubt in his mind.
“I’ll be right there,” Alfred said urgently. “Don’t do anything until I arrive.”
“That was him, wasn’t it,” Dominic demanded, the moment Alfred ended the call, “and he’s got Vivien?”
“I’m afraid so,” Alfred nodded, his eyes frantic.
“Just get me there,” Dominic growled.
“Follow me,” Alfred said, moving quickly through the room. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was planning anything this morning. Try not to worry, he won’t do anything, he’s waiting for me to arrive,” Alfred exclaimed, hurrying through the kitchen door into his garage.
“How the hell did he get her?” Dominic asked as they climbed into Alfred’s Rover.
“I honestly have no idea,” Alfred replied, and Dominic knew he was telling the truth. Alfred appeared to be almost as panicked as he was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When Robson had ushered Vivien into his study ahead of him, he’d paused, watching her as she caught sight of the rope, the ball gag, and the cane, laying in wait on his desk, and had delighted in her slight gasp as the penny dropped.
He’d let her stand there a moment, taking it in, before grabbing her from behind and placing a folded handkerchief across her nose and mouth; she’d struggled, but it had only been for a moment.
Never having used chloroform, he was shocked at its effectiveness. He’d done his research and learned how dangerous the substance could be, so he had applied just the tiniest drop to the rag, but it was enough. She’d fallen unconscious into his arms, and he’d had no trouble placing her across his desk.
Thoroughly enjoying having her completely immobile, he’d lifted her limp arms over her head, tied her wrists together, then unzipped her tight, black gaberdine pants, pulling them down to the tops of her boots.
Knowing his friend would have tried to talk him out of it, Robson hadn’t shared his plan with Alfred, but now that the deed had been done, and everything was under control, he’d placed the call. Alfred had sounded less than enthusiastic, but his attitude had done nothing to dampen Robson’s cheery mood.
As he waited for Alfred to arrive, he picked up the cane, grimacing as he ran his fingers across the thin, polished wood. The Beast, as he called it, lived in his closet, a grim reminder of Nanny Bridges, his horrible nanny, a woman Robson hated with a depth of passion that would sometimes consume him, sending him into a dark mood that would last for days.
Alfred had often told him he should throw the cane away, or burn it in a fire, and though he hated the damn thing, Robson simply couldn’t bring himself to follow his friend’s advice.
The one time he’d not been able to find it had sent him into a blind rage. He’d wanted to thrash the whore he’d caught stealing, but Alfred had hidden it, and the more Robson searched, the crazier he became. The incident had ended badly. He’d slapped the girl in the face, then without warning, his fist had flown through air, landing near her eye. The punching would have continued had Alfred not been able to wrestle him away.
Alfred had done more than stop him from beating the girl further. He’d taken care of everything, and made the ugly mess go away, but never again had Alfred hidden the cane.
“Where are you now, Nanny Bridges?” Robson scowled, staring at the rod. “I’m going to find you one of these days.”
When his parents were traveling, which was often, Nanny Bridges would terrorize him. While she doted on his sisters, she’d made it clear how much she despised little boys, how they were filthy and wretched, and he had no business being in the same room with his female siblings.
Whenever Nanny Bridges would threaten to whip him, he run all the way to his friend’s house. Alfred would comfort him, and the two would plan the death of the dreadful Nanny Bridges in the back garden shed of Alfred’s enormous back yard.
The happiest day of Robson’s young life was when he and Alfred had been sent to the same boarding school. Alfred was thin and small, a target for the bullies, but no-one messed with Robson, and he became Alfred’s bodyguard. Over the years the two had built a bond that only a lifetime of sharing triumphs and tragedies could create.
Now it was time to use The Beast on Vivien, another woman who had betrayed him. She was deserving of The Beast, and whether his friend approved or not, Robson was determined Alfred would bear witness to her punishment.
Crunching gravel alerted Robson to Alfred’s arrival, and throwing the cane back on the desk, he moved quickly into the foyer, closing the study door behind him. He had no way of knowing that less than a second after he did, Vivien straightened herself up, and heart furiously pounding, she began to work free of the ropes binding her wrists.
She’d seen the items on the desk before she’d even entered the room. They’d been reflected in the large mirror hanging over the fireplace, but knowing how strong Robson was, she knew she didn’t stand a chance of escape. Controlling her panic she’d played dumb, praying that at some point she’d be able to make her getaway.
The mirror also alerted her to his lunge from behind, and seeing the white handkerchief in his hand, she’d known instantly what he was planning. Holding her breath, she’d pretended to struggle as he’d held it against her face, then had fallen limp against him.
When he’d put the cord around her wrists she’d held them slightly apart, hoping it would give her enough wiggle room to free her hands if the opportunity presented itself. Now that it had, fear was rising up, making it difficult to focus on getting herself out of the rope.
Fighting desperate tears, she squirmed her fingers, painfully grazing her skin, but her plan worked, and she was able to liberate one of her hands, but as she shook the rope free, she could hear shouting from the foyer, and the sound of something crashing.
When Robson had opened his front door and stepped outside to greet his friend, he’d been startled to see Alfred wasn’t alone; the Rover was carrying a passenger. Not sure what to do he’d stood nervously waiting, but when Dominic Dubois jumped from the car bearing an angry scowl, and had marched purposefully towards him, Robson had immediately turned and hurried back inside.
Dominic had broken into a run, and just as Robson was closing the door he’d hurled himself forward, catching Robson shoulder to shoulder. The two men had tumbled to the ground, and were wrestling on the marble floor when Albert burst in.
Not knowing what to do Alfred began yelling, begging the men to stop fighting, then watched in horror as they rolled into the antique table in the center of the foyer. The collision sent the large vase that sat upon it, toppling to the hard marble tile, smashing it to pieces, sending water and flowers across the floor, but the base of the table worked to Dominic’s advantage, enabling him to maneuver Robson underneath him, and placing his forearm against the Viscount’s throat, he pinned him down.
“Where is she, tell me, where is she?” Dominic growled.
“S-study,” Robson croaked.
“Where’s the study?” Dominic demanded.
“There,” Alfred shouted, dropping on his knees next to them and pointing to the door, “it’s just over there.”
Dominic looked across and saw the tall, double doors, then sitting up he punched his opponent in the stomach.
“That’s to make sure you stay there,” Dominic growled.
Panting heavily, Dominic rose to his feet and stumbled across the wet foyer. As he reached the doors, he glanced back and saw Robson doubled over, Alfred attempting to help him. Satisfied neither of the men posed a threat, Dominic pushed his way into the study, and frantically scanning the room, he saw Vivien standing at a window sobbing, trying desperately to get it open.
Her heart pounding with panic, mascara filled tears stinging her eyes and blurring her vision, when she heard the door open she assumed it was Robson, and spinning around she darted to the desk and grabbed a letter opener, raising it in the air like a knife.
“Come near me,” she quaked, “and-”
“Vivien, it’s me, Dominic,” he exclaimed hurrying forward. “It’s me.”
“Dominic?”
Dropping the would-be weapon she ran across the room, falling against his chest.
“Poor Vivien,” he mumbled, fighting the emotion welling up inside him. “Did he hurt you?”
“N-no, he was waiting for his friend,” she stammered. “H-he was g-going to…” she stammered, flailing her arm towards the desk.
Staring at the rope, the ball gag and the cane, he felt the fury rise in his throat, but fighting it back he led her to the couch.
“Just sit here for a moment,” he said, hugging her tightly and attempting to keep his voice calm.
“It was s-s-so s-s-cary,” she sobbed.
“I know, it’s okay, my sweet girl, it’s okay.”
He rocked her until she was somewhat settled, then moved quickly to the small drinks cabinet and poured her some cognac.
“Sip this,” he said softly, sitting back down and putting an arm around her.
“Th-thank you, I c-can’t believe you’re here.”
“You’ll be okay, Robson can’t hurt you now,” Dominic assured her. “Feeling a bit better?”
A Promise of Passion Page 16