To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance)

by Adrienne Basso

  She understood why Elizabeth had not answered. A scarf was tied across her mouth, effectively gagging her. Horrified, Meredith moved closer and noticed Elizabeth’s hands were bound together with a single cord. It was wrapped several times around the girl’s wrists, then pulled forward and tied to the bottom rung of the chair.

  Meredith stared blindly at the young girl, unwilling to accept what her eyes were witnessing. “My God, who has done this to you?”

  Elizabeth’s pale blue eyes widened with fright. She shook her head as tears fell down her cheeks, wetting the gag in her mouth.

  “Oh, I am so sorry,” Meredith said when she realized the girl could not answer her.

  Meredith tugged at the scarf, but it did not budge. She next fumbled with the knot at the side, her fingers clumsy and unsteady. Finally she loosened the material enough so she could slide it away from Elizabeth’s mouth.

  The younger girl took several great gulps of air and then broke into sobs. Bending low, Meredith hugged her fiercely. “Hush now, ’tis all over.”

  “He is a madman, a monster,” Elizabeth wailed. “I was frightened. I am so frightened.” She sniffled loudly, then took a shuddering breath. “We must hurry and get away before he returns.”

  “Before who returns?” Meredith asked. “Who did this to you?”

  “That servant, that horrible valet of Julian’s. I do not even know his name.”

  Meredith was speechless. Hawkins did this? But why? And why had he now brought her here to find Elizabeth? It made no sense at all.

  “But he led me to you,” Meredith said. “Why would he do that if he meant you harm?”

  Elizabeth’s eyes again welled with tears. “I do not understand any of this, Lady Meredith. He told me Harriet was asking for me and wanted me to meet her; So I followed him here. The moment we were alone, he tied me up. Then he left. I have been so frightened. He never said anything specific, but I know he means to do me harm. Perhaps you also. We must escape.”

  “She is right, Lady Meredith. You would do well to listen to her.”

  Meredith looked up to find Hawkins watching them. She had not even heard him enter the room, though perhaps he had never left. She returned his regard with a calculatedly blank expression, hoping to somehow bluff her way to freedom. “Miss Elizabeth and I are leaving,” she said, tugging ineffectually on the cord that bound the younger girl’s hands.

  He smiled then, a feral grin of such evil intent Meredith felt momentarily dizzy. “I knew you had the spirit to fight me,” he replied. “But your arrogance and courage exceeds even my expectations. I am well pleased by it.”

  Meredith was at a loss. Her defiance seemed to excite him, yet being compliant might put them in even graver danger. “Mr. Hawkins, I am sure we can settle whatever has upset you in a calm and rational manner. There is no need for threats or violence.”

  Anger blazed from Hawkins’s eyes. “I make no threats. I have planned this all so carefully, so thoroughly. There is no need for you to be frightened. Yet.”

  Meredith swallowed hard. The chamber door was still open. Hawkins stood to the side of the doorway, just inside the room. He was not a tall man. In fact, she topped him by several inches. If she rushed him suddenly, she might be able to knock him down and escape.

  Meredith glanced down and gazed at Elizabeth. Though the gag was gone, her hands were still bound to the chair. In the shadowy darkness, the girl’s lovely face was so pale it was nearly the same color as her white gown. Her lower lip trembled and tears coursed silently down her cheeks. Meredith knew she could not leave her.

  She struggled to contain her nearly paralyzing fear. “You are a very clever man,” Meredith said softly.

  Hawkins’s expression was one of pure triumph. “I spent many hours formulating my plans. I had noticed your husband is often in your company, and I was unsure if I could lure you away. Yet in the end you made it so easy, so effortless.”

  Meredith took a step back. Hawkins followed, his eyes afire with harmful intent.

  “What are you going to do?” Meredith somehow forced the words through her lips.

  “Why I shall kill her, of course.” Hawkins cocked his head to one side. “And you shall watch her struggle to take each breath until finally there are no more.”

  Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged, and she whimpered pitifully. Without conscious thought Meredith moved to stand protectively in front of the younger girl. Her mind was racing, her blood pumping hard and fast. “Why would you want to hurt Miss Elizabeth? She has done nothing to offend you.”

  Hawkins’ eyes glittered. “That might be true, but she is clearly someone you care about. Her death will distress you.”

  A sliver of dread sent shivers along Meredith’s spine. “That is your true aim, isn’t it, Hawkins? To cause me suffering?”

  He smiled at her again, as if she were a clever child and he a doting teacher. “I should not be surprised at how quickly you grasped the reality of the situation. Congratulations, Lady Meredith.”

  Meredith tried to say something, but her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth. She glanced down and saw Elizabeth struggling against her bonds furiously. When she made no apparent progress, she slumped in the chair; defeated.

  Meredith’s heart thumped madly. The only chance they had to survive was to stall for time. No doubt Trevor would notice she was gone when he returned to the conservatory. He would not wait long to begin looking for her. Yet it would take time for him to find her, buried back here in such a remote section of the house—if he even thought to search for her within the house.

  “I cannot think what I have done to warrant such strong feelings of hatred, Mr. Hawkins. However, I should like to make amends. Will you accept my sincere apologies?”

  Her contrite manner seemed to puzzle him. His mouth opened, shut, then opened again. “I shall accept your apologies, Lady Meredith. After all, you are only a woman, weak of mind and body. But I shall still kill Miss Elizabeth.”

  “What is going on in here?”

  Meredith and Hawkins turned in startled amazement toward the female voice. Harriet Sainthill stood in the open doorway, her hands planted firmly on her hips. She saw Hawkins the same instant he spied her. Her mouth formed a perfect O of shock as the valet lunged toward her.

  “Harriet, run!” Meredith screamed.

  Harriet’s face was frozen in surprise. She tried to dodge away, but Hawkins was too quick. In one swift move, he slammed the door shut and captured Harriet. He backhanded her across the face to stun her, then put one strong arm around her shoulders, trapping her against him. He reached for something held within his coat pocket and Meredith sickened when she saw a flash of light reflected off the blade of a long knife.

  Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something she could use to attack Hawkins, but the room appeared to have been stripped bare. There was not even a candlestick.

  Meredith put her hand to her mouth. Harriet seemed stunned by the blow, but Meredith could not take her eyes off that deadly knife.

  “Well, well, things are certainly getting interesting. Somehow I knew I could count on you, Lady Meredith, to keep things lively.” Hawkins lowered his head and looked indifferently toward Elizabeth. “It brings me far greater pleasure to use my hands on a female’s throat, but I need both of them to accomplish the task.”

  Hawkins dragged Harriet across the room. Meredith backed away slowly, pressing herself against the wall beside Elizabeth. He said nothing, only tightened his grip on the now struggling Harriet. When he reached the bound girl, he raised his knife. Elizabeth flinched. Harriet screamed.

  “Mr. Hawkins, please,” Meredith cried desperately. “Miss Elizabeth is Miss Harriet’s younger sister. Miss Harriet is going to marry Mr. Wingate. I dare say your employer will be most distressed if anything happens to his future sister-in-law.”

  Hawkins’s expression turned smugly condescending. “How little you know of Mr. Wingate’s true feelings. He does not care a fig for this
cow, else he would have married her long ago. He will be pleased by this surprising twist of fate, for it will free him of any obligations toward her. You see, now I shall have to cut her throat, too, since she has seen me.”

  He pulled Harriet harder against his chest, and she moaned softly. Meredith was unsure if Hawkins’s rough handling or his words had wounded the other woman more. She gripped the edge of the window ledge beside her and tried to make her mind function. Somehow she had to keep him talking.

  “Why do you prefer to use your hands, Mr. Hawkins? Is it faster that way?” The words nearly made her sick, but Meredith forced them through her lips.

  The valet slowly lowered the knife. “What tricks are you playing at, Lady Meredith? No woman of quality wishes to hear of such things.”

  Meredith steeled herself for what she must do. They are only words, she admonished herself silently. Listening to them will be difficult, yet it might save you all. “My interest should not surprise you overmuch. You have said I am unlike most other females.”

  Hawkins’s face was a mask of astonishment. He seemed to be weighing her sincerity, wondering if her interest was genuine. “I use my hands so I can feel the final breaths of life as they leave the body. As I hold the throat between my fingers, life slips away and death takes its place.”

  Meredith cringed at the pride and excitement in his voice. She did not have to ask another question to prompt him, for it suddenly seemed very important that he explain himself to her, brag about what he had done.

  “I choose my women very carefully, you know. The English shop girls are the best. So sweet and fresh-faced, yet they fight and struggle like warrior queens.”

  “We are not shop girls,” Harriet said breathlessly. “We are all women of quality.”

  “I have killed a noblewoman,” he insisted, “though Lady Lavinia died quickly and without the tiniest of struggles. I received little pleasure from it.”

  Meredith’s face twisted with shock. What was he saying? He had killed Lavinia? Was that possible?

  Meredith could barely hear his next words, for a sudden pounding had overtaken her head. Her skin grew clammy and the blood drained from her face. Though it might create a much needed diversion if she became violently ill, Meredith did not wish to test that theory.

  “You killed the former Marchioness of Dardington?” Harriet asked. “Why?”

  “I did not mean to kill her. It was a mistake.” He laughed, but the sound was not in the least humorous. “Lady Meredith was meant to die that afternoon, for the insult she had shown Mr. Wingate. She rejected his honorable proposal of marriage most cruelly. I could not let such a slight go unpunished.”

  His words tore through Meredith, making her stomach roll. She rubbed her damp temples and breathed deeply, trying to quell the dizziness.

  “So you came to the duchess’s garden party intending to kill me?” Meredith whispered. “How did Lady Lavinia become involved?”

  Hawkins’s eyes took on a feverish intensity. “She was wearing your shawl. I followed her to the folly, thinking I at last had you alone. I attacked from behind, taking only a moment to enjoy her final gasps of life. It was not until later, when I spied you weeping beside her lifeless form, that I realized my mistake.”

  “Lavinia died eight years ago. Why have you waited so long to come for me?”

  “You were suffering. That pleased me. And then Mr. Wingate left London and soon after purchased his commission. We were out of the country for many years. Yet in all that time I never forgot about you, Lady Meredith.”

  Hawkins continued talking, fast and furiously, and it was difficult to follow the conversation, to understand his words. When it was necessary, Harriet prompted him with a question and Meredith was grateful for her help. The other woman seemed to understand their only hope of surviving was to keep him talking—for time was fast running out.

  Meredith was not in the room. Trevor felt certain of it. The marquess rubbed his brow and leaned against the wall, his gaze glued to the rows of gold-gilt chairs where the guests were seated for the musical performance.

  He scanned the rows once, twice, then a final third time, but the results remained the same. Meredith was not where he had left her, nor had she moved to a different seat. At first Trevor reasoned she might have slipped away for a few minutes, as he had done, but as the seconds ticked away he grew more concerned.

  If she had left on her own, she would have returned by now. Something was dreadfully wrong.

  “Thinking about making another escape, Dardington?” Julian Wingate asked. “If so, I suggest you make a run for it before the soloist begins. My grandfather adores this woman, but her voice has been known to make grown men weep. In agony.”

  “Wingate.” Trevor favored the other man with a curt nod. “Actually, I was looking for my wife. Have you seen her?”

  “No.” Wingate raised both eyebrows. “Is she truly missing?”

  “Yes.” If the situation were not so dire, Trevor might have smiled. The black fear that was rolling inside him was so intense he was now confiding in a man like Wingate on the off chance he would be able to help. “I need to ask the other guests if anyone has seen Meredith, but would prefer to do it without causing a great alarm.”

  “I will help.”

  The two men took off in separate directions.

  “Have you seen Meredith?” Trevor asked his brother-in-law when he happened upon Jason in the card room.

  “No, but ’tis strange you should inquire about my sister. I have been searching for Miss Elizabeth for nearly an hour. Finally, with great reluctance, I asked Miss Harriet where she had gotten to, and she went in search of her sister. But Miss Harriet has yet to return. Now Meredith is missing also. Do you think this is just an odd coincidence?”

  Trevor frowned. “I suppose they all could have needed to leave for a few minutes to attend to some female matter, but I think they have been gone long enough for us to be suspicious.”

  Jason grabbed the marquess’s arm. “Are you implying they might be in danger?”

  Trevor’s blood ran cold. He was not a man given to panic, but every instinct within him was screaming with fear. “I believe it would be wise of us to locate the women as quickly as possible.”

  Wingate joined them. He looked at Trevor and shook his head. “I’ve questioned the servants on this floor. No one has seen Lady Meredith. And yet they are fairly certain no one has left the house, either. She must be here somewhere.”

  Trevor grimaced. “Miss Elizabeth is missing also. Her sister, Harriet, went to search for her and has not yet returned.”

  Wingate’s brow drew together in confusion. “Harriet is missing, too? I had no idea.”

  The marquess expelled a long sigh. If the servants said no one had left the premises, then they must assume the women were somewhere in the house. But where? It was a large residence, with many rooms. It would take several hours to search properly.

  With growing concern, Trevor remembered Meredith’s shredded parasol, the bruises around her neck that night at the theater, the uneasy feeling she experienced at times of being watched. He knew they did not have a moment to lose. If Meredith was in danger, she needed to be found. Quickly.

  Fear for his lovely wife made it difficult to think, but Trevor marshalled his wits. He turned in haste to Wingate. “Are you well acquainted with this house?”

  “I have lived here for the past two months. And I visited often as a boy.” Wingate’s mouth curled. “Harriet and Elizabeth are guests of my grandfather. I know where their chambers are located. Do you want me to take you there?”

  Trevor forced his racing heart to calm while he tried to think. “No. Is there an area of the house that is seldom used?”

  “The east wing has been closed for years.”

  He hesitated a moment, knowing if he were wrong precious time would be wasted. “I think we should start our search there.”

  The marquess was grateful neither man questioned his reasoning, for
he was uncertain if he could have formulated a logical explanation for this decision. Silently cursing himself for not taking better care of his wife, Trevor hurried down the twisting hallways, anxiously following on Julian Wingate’s heels.

  When they reached the east wing the men slowed, and began a careful search of the many rooms. They found layers of dust, mountains of cobwebs, even a few mice, but no missing women. Trevor was beginning to doubt the wisdom of his instincts when the halls echoed with the sound of a terrified female scream.

  The three men exchanged worried glances, then broke into a run, stumbling as they raced down the hallway.

  “I think it came from here,” Jason said, pointing to the last door on the right. He reached boldly for the door handle.

  “Wait!” Trevor grasped Jason’s wrist. “We don’t know what we shall find in that room. It is best to be cautious, at least until we learn what is happening.”

  Jason pressed his ear to the heavy wooden door.

  “Can you hear anything?” Wingate asked.

  “Yes, but it is just sounds. I can’t make out the words.”

  “Let me try.” Trevor pushed his way forward and leaned into the door. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated completely on the sounds coming from the other side. If he held himself very still, he could hear a male voice speaking rapidly, a female voice answering or perhaps asking a question. The marquess then heard something else. Moaning? Whimpering?

  His hand reached down and slowly turned the latch. “ ’Tis locked,” he whispered.

  “I think I can open it.” Wingate removed a long, thin implement from his breast pocket and inserted it in the keyhole. He fiddled with the lock for only a moment, then, with a slightly embarrassed grin, sprang the lock.

  There was hardly time to question Wingate on where he had learned this rather unsavory skill, yet Trevor could tell by Jason’s amazed expression that his brother-in-law was equally scandalized.