“Just wait,” McTavish said, pulling out a key ring. He took one off and handed it to Mungo. “The house number is fourteen, and this might come in ’andy when ye get there.”
“Much obliged,” Mungo said with a grin.
“Our thanks to you, Mr. McTavish,” Alfred said as they turned to depart.
If Prudence was indeed to be sold at some diabolical auction, they had to get to The Sapphire fast.
For it wasn’t just Prudence who might be sold…it was Alfred’s unborn child, as well. His family, dammit!
His father was going to pay for this, very dearly indeed.
Quickly returning to the carriage, Alfred gave Matthews the address. The driver took them to Frederick Place, and soon they were standing on the street, planning a two-pronged attack.
“I’ll go up on the roof and shimmy down to one of the upper windows,” Alfred said. “You use the key McTavish gave you and enter through the back door. Once inside, tell them he sent you as an extra guard for the auction. Try to discover where Prudence is being held. And don’t be afraid to use your weapons.”
Mungo gave him a look. “Have I ever been, milord?”
Alfred nodded. “Right. Meet you inside. Good luck, Mungo.”
“And good luck to you, milord,” Mungo said, then disappeared around the house.
Alfred went to the adjacent alleyway and looked for a way up. Seeing a thick drainpipe against a wall, he tested it for stability. Satisfied, he began slowly climbing up. He grit his teeth as his muscles were tested, but kept going. As an intelligence officer in the war, he’d scaled fortress walls and rock faces—this was nothing new for him.
The only thing new about this rescue scenario was that his emotions were involved. A woman he loved more than life itself was inside. If anything happened to Prudence, he didn’t know what he’d do.
Soon he was up and over the edge of the roof, walking quickly across it to the building that housed The Sapphire brothel. Finding another drainpipe, Alfred shimmied down to an upper ledge and stepped onto it. He came to the first window and could see through a gap in the heavy curtains. A man and woman were engaged in sex upon the bed, but the woman was blonde.
He moved to the next window and looked inside. It was empty. He started to move along, but his eye caught sight of something.
A foot.
It pushed out again from behind the end of the big bed. Then Alfred saw a glimpse of wild auburn hair.
Prudence.
Goddammit, she was struggling…of anyone was hurting her, he’d kill them with his bare hands.
He tried to open the window but it was locked from the inside. Using his elbow, he broke one of the glass panes as gently as he could, trying to be quiet. He pushed out the broken pane and reached inside, unlocking the window.
Prudence’s head popped up over the side of the bed, and her eyes lit up when she saw him.
“Alfred?” she said in disbelief as he came through the window.
He rushed to her side, checking her for injuries and pulling her in for a heated kiss.
“Are you alright?” he asked, brushing her hair from her face. “Have you been hurt? Dear God, Prudence, I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m alright,” she assured. “It’s your father, Alfred—he’s Mr. Cage.”
“I know,” he replied, cutting the bonds from her wrists and pulling the chewed gag from where it lay rent around her neck.
“You know?” she asked as he helped her to her feet.
“We found the note he sent to you, asking to meet,” he said. “Mother told me a chilling story about their marriage, and why she went to Italy. I’ll tell you all when we are safely out of here.”
“And just where do you think you’re going?” a voice asked from the doorway.
Alfred shoved Prudence behind him, faced his father, and cocked his pistol.
Chapter 26
Alfred stared at the man who had taken so much from him—his mother, his childhood—and who wanted to take more from him, still.
Lord Harrington levelled his own pistol at his son. “Put down your gun, boy. We both know you won’t shoot me.”
“If you truly believe that, you don’t know me at all,” Alfred replied, darkly. “You took Mother away from me for all those years. You’re not taking Prudence, too.”
Harrington sneered. “Women are all the same, Alfred. They only weaken a man. Look at you now—willing to die for this little baggage? What a fool you are.”
“I have been a fool to believe you my entire life,” he said, “as well as my brothers did. We believed your lies. But we aren’t children anymore. We can judge for ourselves. You’re nothing more than a manipulator, a cheat, and a user of women…and I despise you for it.”
The earl gave a snake-like smile. “I have built an empire and I have no regrets. But you soon will if you don’t step away and wash your hands of this girl, immediately.”
“Never,” Alfred replied, still aiming the pistol at his father. “I’ll blow your brains out before I let you take Prudence.”
“Why should you ’ave all the fun, milord?” It was Mungo, his pistol pressed against the back of Lord Harington’s head. “I was hoping I might ’ave a go at it, what with the fact that ’e could ’ave killed one of the girls or Dolly by settin’ fire to the school.” He stepped closer, growling in Lord Harrington’s ear, “Dolly Simms is going to be my wife, sir, and the mother of my children, and I don’t take kindly to anyone threatenin’ my family—which, by the way, Miss Atwater is, too. She is my family. And you are done tormenting ’er.”
Lord Harrington glared, saying, “We seem to be at a stalemate.”
“No,” Mungo said, “no stalemate. There are two pistols pointed at ye, and ye only have the one. That is not a stalemate. That is you being out-gunned, and losing.” He pressed his pistol harder into the back of Harrington’s head. “Now you just come in here and do what ol’ Mungo tells ye.”
Alfred yanked the pistol from his father’s hand and kept that one trained on him, too.
“Hands behind yer back,” Mungo ordered, sheathing his pistol and pulling a length of rope from an inner pocket of his jacket. He tied Lord Harrington’s hands behind him and then shoved him to the floor, fastening the man’s wrists to the bedpost, as Prudence’s had been.
Ripping part of the bedsheet, Mungo tied it around Lord Harrington’s mouth, gagging him.
“There,” Mungo said. “That ought to hold ’im til the constables arrive. Now, to get us out of ’ere….”
“Are there many guards downstairs, Mungo?” Alfred asked.
“Only two that I saw, one at the front door, and the other one roaming about,” he replied. “Most of the patrons are drunk, so we won’t find much resistance there.”
Alfred opened an armoir and pulled out a black silk cloak. He pulled it over Prudence’s shoulders and raised the hood to cover her red hair. “I say we make a break for it, go downstairs out the back door. Escaping through the window is risky. I’d have to climb down the drainpipe with Prudence on my back and that might be difficult to manage. But we must go quickly. The longer we stay here, the harder it will be to get out.”
“So right, milord,” Mungo agreed. “Give one of the pistols to Miss Atwater. I taught ’er how to shoot. But if we go quickly, there’ll be no need to.”
Alfred gave a pistol to Prudence. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she replied. “Let’s get out of here.”
Alfred ushered them into the hallway, closing the door on his protesting father. He led the way to the far end of the hall, with Prudence behind him and Mungo taking up the rear. As they passed several rooms they could hear the sounds of copulation from inside a few. At least the patrons inside wouldn’t notice their departure.
Now to the back stairway.
Alfred opened the door and scanned for signs of danger. “All clear,” he said. “Let’s go.”
They ran down the stairs as quietly as they could, soo
n reaching the main floor. In a few steps they would be free.
Alfred turned a corner and saw a big bear of a man standing idly near the back door….one of the guards. There was nothing for it, they were too close, now. Alfred raised his pistol—Prudence and Mungo followed suit.
“Get out of the way,” he said to the burly guard. “We’ve no beef with you, but I’ll put a hole in your head of you don’t move. Now!”
The man stared at them silently, then moved out of the way with no more pressing.
Alfred opened the door and led the trio out into the back garden, ushering Prudence to safety. He wanted to pull her into his arms right now and crush her to him, but there was no time. They had to get to the carriage and back to the townhouse.
Alfred, Prudence and Mungo ran down the dark street. Alfred looked behind them, but saw that no one chased them. The guard from the brothel obviously didn’t get paid enough for that.
Once inside the carriage, Alfred cradled Prudence in his arms as they pulled away and headed home. Mungo sat opposite them, his pistol still drawn and ready as he looked out the window, scanning the street for trouble.
“It’s alright,” Alfred said as Prudence buried her head in his shoulder. “I’ve got you, now. I’ve got you.”
But did he really? He and Mungo had rescued Prudence from the brothel. That much was true. But would she choose to remain in Alfred’s life as he truly wanted her…as his wife?
It was a question he resolved to have answered, one way or another.
* * *
Prudence tied the robe about her waist and ran a comb through her damp hair. It felt so good to be clean again…
Dolly had scooped her away as soon as they’d returned to Alfred’s townhouse and ran a soothing bath for her. Prudence had argued, of course, wanting instead to go to Lady Weston’s side. But Dolly would have none of it, saying Prudence was in no state to tend to the sick at such a time.
Lady Harrington was at the aged lady’s side, and would keep vigil during the night. Everyone agreed that the best thing for Prudence after such an ordeal, was rest.
But she didn’t want to rest. There were too many thoughts in her head, too many feelings in her heart, and too many things she needed to say before this night was through.
So, in Prudence-like fashion, she did what she wanted, anyway.
Hastily twisting her hair into a plait, Prudence carried a candle into the hallway. She crept down the hall toward one room in particular, and knocked lightly on the door.
Slowly, the door creaked open.
The sight of Alfred holding a flickering candelabra and standing shirtless in the doorway almost took her breath away.
God, he was beautiful…as beautiful as a man could be.
Strong…dangerous…a seasoned warrior.
Her warrior.
“I thought Dolly told you to get some sleep,” he said curtly.
He was angry with her…like a parent angry with an unruly child who had wandered into danger.
She might feel the same about their child if it was as headstrong as she was…
Suddenly, Prudence wanted to laugh. It would be a fair fate for her to have a child as willful as she, and as stubborn as Alfred. For she wanted that child more than anything, now. And she wanted Alfred by her side as they watched it grow.
“I cannot sleep,” Prudence said. “May I come in?”
He leaned against the door frame. The sight of his muscular body moving languidly in the candle light nearly did her in.
“Do you think that’s wise, considering my state of undress?” he asked.
She tried not to smile, for he was playing with her. “I assure you, Lord Weston, you are perfectly safe with me.”
“You’re certain?” He stepped aside so she could enter. “I’ve seen you handle a pistol, madam, and it was quite impressive.”
“Thank you for that, my lord,” she said, “but I am not here to discuss my weaponry skills, which, as you say, are quite impressive.”
Alfred sighed. “Can this not wait until morning? I’m tired. I’ve spent most of the evening rescuing you. I want to go to bed.”
“I want to go to bed, too,” Prudence answered. “With you.”
“With—what?” he said.
“I want to go bed with you, Alfred,” she said calmly. “I want to go to bed with you every night, and wake up every morning beside you…as your wife.”
Alfred stood as if stunned for a moment, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Well, this is certainly a change of tune. You wish to accept my proposal?”
“No,” she replied. “Actually, I do not.”
He tapped his chin. “You wish to go to bed with me every night as my legally wedded wife, yet you do not accept my proposal of marriage?”
Prudence nodded happily. “That is exactly right.”
“I do not understand you,” he said, frowning.
“Yes you do,” she countered. “That is why I love you, Alfred. You do understand me—and all my foibles, my headstrong nature, and my need for independence. That is why I cannot accept your proposal of marriage… I must make one of my own.”
He stared down at her, his sensuous mouth curving with just the hint of a smile. “Continue,” he said.
“But before I get to that,” she said, “let me go back to some of the earlier events of the evening. I feared for my life, tonight. Your father, though he himself did not harm me, was perfectly willing to sell me to the highest bidder. I have no doubt that if that transaction had occurred, I may have suffered serious harm, indeed, perhaps never to be heard from again. It was a sobering thought as I sat there, bound to the foot of that bed, unable to help myself. I thought of you, of Dolly and Mungo, of my students, and of course, Lady Weston—all people who are so dear to me. I wanted only to see you all again…to see my family again. For that is who you are. It took me awhile to fully appreciate that fact.”
Prudence reached out to place his strong hand on her flat belly, reveling in the primal sensation of it.
“I may be carrying your child, Alfred,” she said. “As I sat there, bound and helpless, I thought of the new life that might be growing inside me. The thought that the two of us might die frightened me more than I’d ever been before. Suddenly, everything became clear. I want to bear your child, I want us to be a family together, and I don’t care what anyone thinks. All I care about is you.”
“Finally, you are seeing reason,” Alfred said, then made a big show of checking her forehead for fever. “Gadzooks, are you alright, Prudence? You’re actually making sense, for once. You must be ill.”
She shooed his hands away. “Perhaps I was before, but I am better now. I know what I want in life, and I am no longer afraid to reach out and take it. I want you, Alfred. I want you and our children, and all the joys and sorrows that marriage brings. And in that regard, I have a question for you.”
He looked down at her with a devilish grin, and said, “My heart is all a-flutter, Miss Atwater. Whatever would you want to ask me?”
She ignored him and took a deep breath. “Lord Alfred Weston, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”
“This is so sudden, Miss Atwater,” he said. “A proposal of marriage has never been put to me before, and that is the truth. But I am so young, so inexperienced, so unprepared. I will have to say…that I will consider it.”
Prudence frowned at him. “I beg your pardon?”
Then he pulled her into his arms and replied, “I’d have to consider myself insane if I didn’t say ‘yes,’ though others might consider me so if I did. But, as you pointed out, none of that matters—only our love, and our life together as husband and wife. Truly, Prudence, you certainly took your time. I thought you’d never ask.”
“So did I, my lord,” she replied, tipping her chin up for a kiss. “So did I.”
Chapter 27
Prudence snuggled against the warm, masculine body beside her in bed, and knew she was in heaven. Alfred had loved her long i
nto the night, but this time had been different between them. Their passion had kindled slowly together, unhurried and beautifully sweet. It was more than a meeting of physical bodies, but a meeting of hearts, minds and souls.
She had never felt more content or safe than she did at that moment.
This was to be her life with him, and she welcomed it.
As sunlight began to creep through the side of the heavy curtains, Prudence knew they couldn’t linger much longer. There were the students to attend to, and she wanted to see Lady Weston, if permitted.
Throwing back the covers, she stood and donned her nightgown and robe. Alfred’s valet would be coming to wake him soon. She would have to sneak back to her room quickly to avoid being seen.
Prudence exited Alfred’s bedchamber and walked quickly down the hall to the room she shared with Dolly. As she slipped inside, Dolly lifted her head from the pillow and raised sleepy eyes toward Prudence.
“Not again, Miss!” Dolly said.
“Yes again, Dolly,” Prudence replied, unable to hide a grin.
“Well, I s’pose I shouldn’t talk, what with my ’istory,” her friend said. “I didn’t even hear ye sneak away. After such a night, I thought ye’d sleep soundly.”
“That’s just it,” Prudence explained. “I couldn’t sleep at all. My mind was full of thoughts and questions. One in particular for Lord Weston.”
“What was it?” Dolly asked, sitting up.
“You’ll find out in due course,” she answered. “Now, we must start the day. The girls will up before long, with hungry bodies and hungry minds which we must fill. But before I begin classes, I should like to visit Lady Weston, if her condition allows. Alfred told me she took a turn for the worse yesterday.”
Dolly rose and tied her hair into a knot. “That she did, Miss. I know the doctor was ’ere. Not much ’e can do, I’m afraid.”
“We must hope for a miracle, then,” Prudence said, thinking that stranger things had happened of late.
Later, when Dolly was downstairs overseeing the students’ breakfast, Prudence went to Lady Weston’s bed chamber.
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