Love Regency Style

by Samantha Holt

  She may as well have been a boxer punching him in the gut. He stared at her for a moment while the words seeped in. That was why she was interested in him. Why she quizzed him about his business with her father. Lilly thought him capable of murder. But did she still believe that to be so? Had their entire time together been built on a lie? Heat built inside him and he slammed his fist into the wall. Pain seared his knuckles and Lilly cried out, stumbling back from him.

  He pulled his throbbing hand away from the wall and saw the indent he had created. His gaze fell on Lilly and the fire inside him fizzled away. What had he done? Lilly had never been capable of lying to him. Gaze cast down, shoulders slumped, he waited for her to leave but instead she remained. She took a step forward—he saw her skirts in the periphery of his vision—but he held out a palm to prevent her from coming closer and turned away. He didn’t say anything. Apparently, he didn’t need to. After several moments, he heard the rustle of her skirts and the door close.

  Releasing a breath, he sank into the chair she had just occupied. The cream fabric was still warm and he absently stroked a hand across the wooden arm, feeling almost as if he was touching her instead. He longed to take her in his arms and apologize. To kiss her neck and be tender with her—be everything a man should be with a woman. But when he eyed his bloodied and throbbing knuckles he realized he would never truly be that man. She might encourage softer moments in him but underneath he was nothing more than a beast. He might not be a murderer, but he was close enough.

  Just like his father.

  Was the danger to her Henry or was it him? Either way, he could take no risks. Head in his hands, he fought the tightness in his throat. He should never have considered taking a mistress, should never have ruined Lilly. Now she was in danger from both him and the man who owned her livelihood.

  Evan stood, straightened his jacket and strode out of the room. He had one option to ensure she was safe and looked after. It made his heart feel as if it had been put in a vice but he wouldn’t allow himself to harm the woman he cared for most.

  The woman he loved?

  He shook away the thought and headed down the passageway to the entrance hall, pausing to peer into the dining room. Where was she? Lilly deserved better than him. Really, she deserved better than being a mistress but there was little to be done about that—not with the status of her birth.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, he strode into her bedroom, fully expecting to find her in there but she was not. He finally braved the bedroom that they shared even while she was sick and found her sitting on the bed, twining her hands together. She lifted her head as he entered and shut the door.

  “I’m sorry for losing my temper,” he spilled out. “I have a foul one I know, and you should never have witnessed it.”

  “Everyone gets ang—”

  He cut her off before she could distract him from his task. “I sincerely believe you are in danger and you have few choices.”

  “As you keep reminding me,” she muttered. “Evan, I didn’t mean to… I never believed…”

  He waved away her words before she could soften him to her. “It is clear to me that this between us has come to an end. My offer remains. I shall provide for you until our year contract has ended but—”

  “Is this about Thomas?”

  “No.” He frowned. “Yes. Damn. I should have just let him have you.”

  “Evan?”

  “Thomas wants you. He always wanted you. It was why I asked you to be my mistress. My hand was forced. I couldn’t let him have you. But he would still. You would be well protected and provided for.”

  She gaped at him for several moments while his heart hammered in his head, sick with regret and fear.

  “Is this how you see me? As some commodity to be passed around between yourselves?”

  “No—”

  “Lord almighty, I knew you could be arrogant, but I didn’t realize the extent of it. I had come to believe you thought of me as more than just a whore to be bought and sold, but I was clearly wrong.” Lilly stood and pressed her shaking hands down her dress.

  Evan found himself torn between going to her and denying it all and turning and running away. He had ruined everything, including Lilly. All because of his own selfishness.

  “I never thought you a whore,” he croaked out. Tension filled his throat and made him feel like he had swallowed rocks.

  “I was such a fool for thinking I could play this game—that it would be worth it. I have no place amongst rich men who believe they can have everything they want at the drop of a hat. My mother sacrificed so much for my father and still I thought things would be different for me.”

  “They loved one another,” he felt compelled to point out.

  Her expression shuttered. Iciness doused the fire in her eyes. “Yes. They did.” Her voice sounded hollow in the dark room.

  When she lifted her chin and met his gaze head on, the sadness in those beautiful eyes threatened to tear his heart in two. Was there some chance that she loved him? Were they close to having something as strong as what her parents had? He could hardly comprehend his own feelings but what did it matter? Lilly had to leave and she had to be protected until he had proof of Henry’s wrongdoing.

  “I will go,” she said quietly. “Give me two days to make arrangements. I have a few friends who care not about my circumstances. I’m not lucky enough to be able to buy my friends but I am sure I can rely on them for aid.”

  “What in the devil—?”

  “I shall play this game no longer, Evan.” She moved passed him. “I won’t even hold you to your contract.”

  With that, she swished from the room, leaving him empty and aching. His knuckles stung and doused any lingering anger at his own behavior. Fearing he might go to her on his hands and knees and beg for forgiveness, he traipsed down the stairs and settled on walking to Wellington’s. A strong drink was in order. Maybe if he drank enough he could forget Lilly and the niggling voice that told him there was a strong possibility he loved the irritating woman.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lilly lifted the letter she had penned and grimaced at the poor writing. Her hands refused to stop shaking. Heat pricked her eyes and she sniffed, fighting the rising tears.

  “Don’t be a fool,” she commanded herself.

  She had always known this was temporary and it should have been no surprise that Evan thought of her as little more than a product to be bought and sold. However, that didn’t stop her heart from hurting. Regardless of his words and how furious she was with him for saying them, her love for him remained as strong as ever.

  How could she not love him? His arrogance might drive her wild but how many other men would risk themselves for women in need? She pressed her fingers to her lips. To think of not seeing him again or not touching him made her want to curl up and sob until the pain had left her.

  But she must go. She would not be sent back to the country to wait out the year, forever in the hope he might return to her, and she certainly wouldn’t be given to Thomas. As charming as he was, she had no desire to be his mistress and though married men taking mistresses was common practice, the thought turned her stomach.

  Lady Stanley would help. She glanced down at the letter and folded it. Would Lady Stanley know of her escapades? It was likely, but the old lady had never judged her mother for her actions. Hopefully Lilly would be treated with the same courtesy. Not that she relished relying on charity but she had few other options at the moment. Until she had talked with her cousin, she would not be able to return home and she doubted Evan’s offer of a lawyer still stood now she was leaving.

  Casting her gaze about the pretty room with its blue wallpaper and pale furnishings, a heavy weight settled in her chest. She had so looked forward to seeing more of London and then returning to Oxfordshire. It was always going to end though, she reminded herself. This fairytale could not last.

  Letter in hand, she drew her shoulders straight and dabbed her eyes
with a handkerchief before making her way downstairs to find Mary. The front bell rang, making her jump and she put the letter on the console table in the hall to open the door.

  “Miss—” Higgins protested as he ambled up beside her but she ignored him. For too long, she had been hidden away. Her entire life had been spent behind closed doors and she refused to be fearful any longer. No more worrying about her reputation or the gossips and no more fretting over some imagined danger.

  On the doorstep stood a young woman, around her age. Lilly gasped as she noted the bruising on her cheek and red rimmed eyes. Her skin shimmered with tears. The pale green gown she wore was several seasons old at least and had seen better days.

  “Forgive me, is Lord Hawksley in?” she stammered.

  Darting her gaze around, Lilly instinctively took the woman’s arm and drew her into the passageway. “He is not. Can I help you? What is your name?”

  “I am Mrs. Hastings. I was told…” She glanced at Higgins.

  Lilly waved the butler away. “Will you have Mary bring some tea to the drawing room?”

  “No, please,” the woman begged. “I cannot stay. If he finds me…” A sob bubbled out her mouth and she grabbed a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed her cheeks. “Forgive me…”

  “If who finds you, Mrs. Hastings? Has someone hurt you?”

  “I had heard Lord Hawksley helps women like me… who… who have been hurt.”

  Lilly pressed her lips together. Who could she have heard this from? She studied the woman again and rubbed her back, trying to soothe her sobs. Had her husband hit her? The bruise on her face had made her cheek swell to a large size and had clearly been done with great force. What should she do? She could hardly send her on her way in such a state and certainly not if she was in danger. But she had no clue where Evan was or what he normally did with these women.

  “The marquess is not here right now.”

  “He will kill me,” she wailed. “He will find me and kill me. I’m not safe here.”

  What would Evan do? Lilly pursed her lips. “Can you leave London today?”

  The woman bobbed her head.

  Lilly made a snap decision then. She would help this woman leave London and return to ask for Evan’s aid once she was out of danger. They could travel to Oxfordshire in a matter of hours and the journey hardly took any time at all. She might even be back in London before nightfall. When she was assured of Mrs. Hastings’s safety, she would let Evan know and he could take over from there.

  “We must leave London today,” she told the woman. “We can catch a train and I have a safe place to take you.”

  “I must… must get my daughter.”

  Lilly closed her eyes and opened them, her heart sinking. “You left her with your husband?”

  “No… sh-she is with the nursemaid. My husband is at one of the gambling halls.” Mrs. Hastings lifted her head and a flash of something echoed across her expression, before her brow creased. “You must come with me. Please, Miss Claremont.”

  How did the woman know her name? It didn’t matter really. Perhaps she had caught wind of the gossip too. For now, their main concern was getting Mrs. Hastings and her daughter to safety.

  “Let us fetch your daughter with haste. You must take only what you can carry, do you understand?”

  Mrs. Hastings nodded furiously, a flash of something in her eyes. It struck Lilly as triumph but it could not be that. Perhaps it was relief at getting aid.

  Lilly sought out Higgins and explained her plan to him. He argued vehemently against such a decision but she would not be swayed. What kind of woman would she be if she ignored someone in need? After asking that the carriage be made ready, she fetched her purse and took Mrs. Hasting’s arm to lead her out the front. No gunshots greeted her today, she thought smugly. Evan had been entirely wrong about the danger she was in. Likely it was a simple accident—a duel gone wrong perhaps.

  Mrs. Hastings gave her an address in King’s Cross. She told the driver to take them there with haste. Lilly didn’t know King’s Cross well but she had thought it didn’t have the best reputation. The morning traffic remained heavy and with each passing moment, apprehension built in her chest. Mrs. Hastings’s sniffles had ceased and she peered out of the window, twining her hands.

  She probably feared for her daughter, she supposed. Would Evan be angry at her for taking action? Maybe, but hopefully when she explained he would understand.

  They pulled up outside a tatty looking large house. The windows were framed with paint-flecked shutters and they were covered with soot and grime. Lilly poked her head out of the window and peered around. Several women lingered on the street corners—whores she suspected. Who would leave a child here?

  “Is this the right address?”

  Mrs. Hastings nodded. “Yes. I had to leave her here.”

  Lilly gulped and stepped out. The driver leaned into her. “I don’t think it wise you stay here, miss. Shall I take you back?”

  “No, we shall be fine, thank you. Give us a few moments, please, and we shall need to go to Paddington.”

  “I’ll be here if you need me, miss,” the young man said.

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Hastings stepped out and strode ahead. Her stance was more confident than before and Lilly concluded she was relieved to have a way out of her dire circumstances. The woman opened the door, ushered her in and took a look around outside before shutting the door.

  Lilly eyed the grim stairwell. Only one gas lamp was lit, casting most of it in shadows. A damp odor hung in the air and even clung to her skin. Underfoot, the garish red and green carpet was threadbare. Something lurked in the shadows, making her stomach lurch. Before she could question Mrs. Hastings, a man stepped out from the gloom. With a large stomach and a sour face, he loomed over her.

  Failing to hold back a startled cry, she attempted to step in front of Mrs. Hastings, fearing it was her husband, but the woman simply laughed and came around her to stand at the man’s side.

  He scowled. “What is this?”

  Slowly backing away, Lilly swung her gaze between the two of them. “What is going on?” she demanded. “Who are you?”

  “This is his mistress,” Mrs. Hastings told the man. “Hawksley wasn’t there but she was. I’ve ‘eard he’s greatly attached to her.”

  Brow creasing at the change in tone in Mrs. Hastings’s voice, she took a moment to study the man. He spoke well and appeared well dressed too. Clearly wearing a tailored suit, he didn’t fit in with the current surroundings.

  “You were meant to bring Hawksley!” he barked.

  Lilly retreated until her back hit the door. She reached around to find the door handle and fumbled to get it open. She whirled and pulled it open but the man was upon her before she could get any further and he dragged her back into the house while she kicked and screamed at him.

  Nails scrabbling across anywhere she could reach, she tried to bite him when a hand came across her mouth and a crack resounded through the room. It took a moment for the pain to register. Her vision went white and heat flared agonizingly up her cheek. She sagged and the man dragged her deeper into the house. Head spinning, she found herself flung onto a chair. Before she found her feet, he tugged roughly at her wrists and set about binding them behind her back. Lilly struggled to get free but his strength overpowered her and she ended up tied to the chair.

  The dots in front of her vision slowly cleared and she rolled her head from one side to the other to study her surroundings. No gas lamps were lit in this room—an old drawing room she assumed. The heavy curtains were open, allowing enough light in for her to see the empty fireplace and a dusty chandelier hanging from the middle of the room. No other furnishings save from the chair on which she sat occupied the room. When she glanced at the floor, she noted the tattered state of the carpet matched that of the hall. Whoever’s house this was, it had not been occupied in many years.

  “Release me,” she demanded. “Who are you? What
are you doing?”

  The man moved to stand in front of her and Mrs. Hastings came to his side, grinning.

  “You were meant to bring me Hawksley,” he muttered to her.

  “He’ll come for ‘er,” she assured him. “Just you see. Now are you going to pay me or not?”

  He sighed. “Yes, but only half. You did not do your job properly. I wanted Hawksley, not some expensive whore. Now I shall have to kill both of them.”

  “I had to think quick, I did. It will work just as well, you’ll see. You’d better pay me my full amount or I’ll be talking to the bobbies.”

  “You talk to the bobbies and you shall have more than that bruise on your face to worry about, Maggie.” He fished out a money clip from his jacket and handed over some money.

  Maggie grinned and fingered the notes. “I’ll have no luck gettin’ any new customers for a while with this bruise you gave me.” She pointed to her face. “But this will keep me going nicely.” She nodded at Lilly. “You going to kill ‘er?”

  “Well I shall have to now. Too many people suspect me of harming Eleanor. It’s too risky to leave any trails leading back to me.”

  Lilly gasped at the familiar name. Was he Eleanor’s husband?

  Maggie snorted. “Would have been easier just to call him out for a duel or shoot him in an alleyway.”

  A wide grin cracked his face, his teeth flashing in the gloom. “Yes, but that would not have been nearly as satisfying. I intend to make him pay dearly for what he made me do to Eleanor.” He faced the woman briefly. “Unless you want to enjoy the show, you had better leave. And remember—”

  “I know, I know. You can trust me to keep my gob shut, don’t you worry. Thanks for the gown, my lord,” she added saucily.

  The man rolled his eyes and waited for her to leave before eyeing Lilly. Mouth dry, she twisted her wrists against the ropes and grimaced when they rubbed painfully at her skin.

  “So you are this mistress I’ve heard so much about. I shall admit I don’t see what has the marquess so enraptured but perhaps you have other skills that keep him entertained.” He leered at her, leaving her in no doubt he was referring to her skills in the bedroom.