by Heather Boyd
“Excellent. And her breath?”
“Quite fine, too.”
“Well.” The duke returned his attention to the abbess. “I’ll take her now and Redding will deliver the funds this evening. I cannot wait to begin.”
The duke seemed almost giddy with glee. He swung about, his hand falling to the binding on her ankle.
The abbess put a staying hand on his arm. “Half now to secure her. Half later. You can take her once you’ve paid me.”
The duke’s smile fell. “I so hoped you would indulge me, Mrs. Leyton. Redding?”
Redding stood and put his hand behind his back. But Agatha could see what the abbess couldn’t. Something bulky hid beneath Redding’s clothes. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“The abbess strikes a hard bargain, but requires payment before we can take the girl. Do be a dear fellow and pay her. You know I loathe handling money.”
“With pleasure, Your Grace.”
Redding hurried forward, removing a pistol from the back of his trousers. The duke lunged for the abbess at the same time and slapped a hand over her mouth. “You should have been kinder to me, Mrs. Leyton. I do not like being thwarted.”
Mrs. Leyton squawked behind the duke’s hand, her eyes round as saucers. Unfortunately, they closed to slits after a moment. Her eyes darted around the chamber in a way that made Agatha afraid.
Redding hurried to close the door then turned to Agatha. He tore his coat from his shoulders and laid it gently over her. “Oscar sent us.”
Agatha closed her eyes. Despite her best efforts, tears squeezed out. Redding untied her hands and feet and drew her upright. She clutched his coat tightly about her and looked for her own dark gown. But it was gone. Nowhere within sight.
Redding and the duke glanced at the abbess. Redding stared at Mrs. Leyton, his jaw clenching and unclenching in a disturbing way. “I think I will enjoy this.”
“Oh, no, Redding.” The duke countered. “The joy will be all mine. Come muzzle her while I do the honors.”
While Mrs. Leyton struggled and squirmed, the duke stripped her of her gown and held it out to Agatha to slip on. Then, while Agatha was contending with the larger garment and her shaking hands, the pair of them forced Mrs. Leyton into the exact same predicament that they’d found Agatha in, but with one additional detail—they gagged her so she couldn’t cry out.
Redding approached. “May I finish dressing you, Miss Birkenstock?”
Numbly, she nodded. Everything had changed so fast, but why were this duke and his servant rescuing her on Oscar’s behalf? She didn’t know either of them and couldn’t remember Oscar mentioning this duke either. Redding buttoned her as fast as any maid she’d ever had, and when he was done he led her to the duke’s side.
The duke held his arm out to her.
Puzzled, she frowned at him. “Who are you?’
He grinned rather impishly and wound her arm through his. “Someone who really shouldn’t be crossed.” He looked sadly at the woman twisting violently on the bed. “Mrs. Leyton would do well to remember this incident for future reference. I look after my own. Don’t get involved with my family affairs again or I will crush you out of business. Is that understood?”
Mrs. Leyton’s gaze flew to Agatha and a small sound, a muffled whimper, escaped her throat. Family? Agatha looked up at the duke as he patted her hand.
“Come along, my dear. We have nicer environs to frequent. You must come to dinner soon.”
The duke swept her from the room and down the main staircase as if he made the short journey every day. But at the bottom, Redding was struck and slumped to the ground with a groan. His pistol bounced uselessly across the floor.
When Agatha looked around, she spied Lady Prewitt standing between her and the door—pistol pointed at Agatha’s head.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
OSCAR THUMPED THE side of the carriage and glared at the groom blocking the door. “It’s taking too long. What could be taking them so long?”
The groom sat up, alert once more. Oscar cursed his lack of foresight. If he’d stayed quiet, he might have been able to get past him and away before he could be stopped.
The groom waved the pistol in his direction. “Now, your lordship. Don’t be taking that tone with me. I got orders, you see, and one does not cross the duke’s man unless one wants to seek employment with the fishes.”
Oscar scowled at the weak, cautious man. If he did not hold a pistol, now aimed exactly at Oscar’s chest, Oscar would have been out of this carriage ten minutes ago and inside the building to find Agatha. However, he couldn’t do anything to help if he sustained another injury. His hand ached enough as it was.
He still hoped to convince Redding’s lackey to be reasonable and let him have his way. But the man appeared utterly opposed to crossing the duke’s man. They’d spoken at length since the duke’s departure, and he’d not conceded one point in Oscar’s favor. Damn foolish loyalty.
Oscar slumped in his seat, imagining the retribution he would bring against the duke’s man should they not return with Agatha within the next five minutes. He pulled out his pocket watch to mark the time. A little before three. Three o’clock seemed a goodly time of day to shoot someone.
As he tucked his watch away again, a carriage passed the end of their lane.
Oscar sat forward as the gleaming Town carriage pulled up before the bawdy house steps. A single lady stepped from it. An elegant lady he recognized only too well.
Yet he had trouble believing his eyes. “Lady Prewitt?”
She swept up the staircase and disappeared inside without a glance left or right. What the devil was she doing visiting a brothel in this, or any, part of Town? Then he remembered. The Prewitt’s had some small connection to Mrs. Leyton that he’d not liked and had refused to indulge that day in the park. At the time, he’d dismissed the woman. Now, it seemed he should have paid more attention.
Redding could be right. Perhaps he’d brought this revenge upon Agatha by not marrying Lady Penelope. A woman scorned was a dangerous woman. But a woman with low and unsavory connections would be a greater danger, indeed.
The groom whistled. “Now that changes matters somewhat.” He held out the weapon to Oscar. “You’d better go, milord. That one isn’t right in the head. I mean, who would be when her husband’s shagging her baby sister right under her nose? Disturbs the mind more than a bit. Even turns my stomach, and I seen a lot working for the duke.”
“I knew something was going on between that pair,” Oscar growled. All of his suspicions had been vindicated. Prewitt, huh. That explained his possessive presence beside Penelope and his reluctance that they be alone. Prewitt could have Penelope, but he’d go retrieve Agatha now.
The footman climbed out and held open the door. “Don’t kill ‘er. It’s harder to hush up that kind of thing in London than in the country. Too many witnesses to pay off in Town.”
Oscar hurried for the bawdy house door, pistol tucked beneath his coat. The two footmen allowed him to pass without question. To them, he must have seemed like an eager gentleman come for a fuck and little else. He hoped everyone else he passed assumed that.
He slowed his steps once he entered the house. He’d never come here before and had no idea of the layout. Could he ask the butler to direct him to the newest acquisition? Probably not a wise question to ask, given that he wasn’t a regular customer. But the butler was no where in sight to direct him. The foyer was empty.
He eased forward until he heard voices.
“Lady Prewitt, what an unexpected pleasure to see you,” the Duke of Staines purred.
Oscar glanced around the corner just as his uncle tugged Agatha behind his back. The duke’s man was on the ground at the base of the stairs, hand raised to his head in obvious pain. When Redding removed it, the bright stain of blood coated his fingers and the side of his face.
Oscar’s pulse hammered; his breath grew labored.
He checked on Agatha again. So far she looked unharme
d, but Lady Prewitt’s wildly swinging pistol arm gave him pause. It reminded him too much of his previous encounter with a deranged man at Lord Daventry’s estate. He drew back, breath catching in his chest. This was his nightmare come back to life. Only now Agatha was in the middle of it, and he had to save her.
Redding groaned and when Oscar checked again, he had dragged himself to a seated position. Redding met Oscar’s gaze across the room, but made no other gesture to show he’d recognized him. Was he dazed?
“Are you all right, Redding?”
Redding groaned again. “Yes, Your Grace. It’s just a scratch. Always happens around you. I should be getting used to it by now.”
“You’re slowing up there, old fellow. By the way, there’s still a pistol aimed at me. This is no time to be getting comfortable on the floor. Really, Red, I hardly ever do anything to deserve such an indignity.”
Redding set his hand to the floor. “Don’t call me Red.”
Lady Prewitt hissed. “It’s aimed at her, if you would just get out of the way. I’ve got nothing against you.”
Oscar risked another peek and his world slowed. While he’d been regaining his senses, Redding and the duke had repositioned themselves. He now had a clear shot at Lady Prewitt. He just needed the wits to pull the trigger and fire upon another human being again.
Oscar flexed his hand around the pistol and drew in a deep breath, hoping the duke could talk his way out of this.
“At my little Agatha? Dear lady, what has she done to deserve such hostile treatment?” The duke’s soothing tones had little effect on the hostile woman.
Lady Prewitt drew herself up tall her grip on the pistol firming. “She’s after my husband. I won’t share any more of him.”
“Lord Prewitt?” The duke glanced at Agatha.
Agatha shook her head violently. “No. No, of course I don’t want him.”
Lady Prewitt sneered. “That’s what she said, too. Now see what goes on. They think I don’t know, but I’ve got eyes. I know where they creep to in the dead of night. It stops with her.”
Redding climbed slowly to his feet but rested against the wall, putting himself further out of danger. “If that were true then we might all be afraid. As it is, you’ll not pull that trigger.”
Lady Prewitt looked Redding up and down and sneered. “And why is that?”
The duke pushed Agatha two steps further back. “Because, my dear, you’ve lost.”
Oscar pulled the trigger.
A puff of smoke wafted before him as Lady Prewitt collapsed to the ground, pistol spinning far from her reach. She held her bleeding arm against her chest as she screamed in pain at the wound he’d inflicted. Oscar swayed. The pistol fell from his fingers with a loud clatter.
Agatha ran to him and jumped into his arms. “I knew you could save us. I knew you could.”
She kissed him and hugged him and told him many flattering things that were profoundly good for his ego. He hugged her against his chest and collapsed against the wall for support.
What if he couldn’t have pulled the trigger?
That didn’t bear thinking about. He set his hands around Agatha’s face and kissed her full on the mouth.
“Redding? We need to get this pair married, don’t you think?” The duke approached, supporting his footman as they crossed the room. He leaned his servant against the wall beside Oscar and inspected the cut on his head. “Red, there’s a fair bit of blood leaking from your head.”
Redding brushed his hands aside. “It’ll stop directly. Don’t fuss. Mr. Branxton will be waiting impatiently to perform the ceremonies. I’ll deal with my wound later.”
The duke looked set to argue until Redding pointed at the woman crying on the floor. “Also have to deliver her back to her husband with an explanation. You should enjoy that, don’t you think?”
“Immensely.” The duke grinned. “Are you all right, Oscar?”
Oscar squeezed Agatha tightly. “I am now, Your Grace. I’ll bring Lady Prewitt to the carriage. Agatha, go along with His Grace. I’ll join you in a moment.”
Agatha shook her head stubbornly. “I’ll help you.”
Together, they got Lady Prewitt’s wound bandaged enough to slow the flow of blood, and supported her between them as they followed the duke and Redding, listening to their banter once more. Lady Prewitt stumbled along without saying a word.
“Rather forward thinking of me wouldn’t you say, Red, to arrange that vicar fellow?”
Redding clutched his head. “Don’t know if I’d go that far, but if you insist.”
The duke slung his arm around his footman’s back to support him for the short walk. “Oh, I do, I do.”
Redding faced the duke. “Carrington should be saying those words. You cannot do everything for him.”
Staines chuckled. “Carrington I trust to comply with my wishes, but I do long to hear my brother say them. But let’s dispose of Lady Prewitt first, and then we shall have a nice wedding to enjoy.”
The grooms on the carriage sprang into action at the sight of their battered party. Redding was helped into the carriage muttering ‘of course, Your Grace’ to another of Staines’ self-serving pronouncements. Did he never stop talking?
Lady Prewitt said nothing at all as she was pushed inside, too.
Agatha tugged on Oscar’s sleeve and drew him a little away from the carriage. “Which duke is that?”
“The Duke of Staines.” Oscar set his hands over hers and squeezed. “My uncle, in truth.”
She frowned. “But you never told me you were related to a duke before. I thought you wouldn’t keep secrets from me.”
“This one is a new secret. I had planned to tell you after we were wed in case you had second thoughts about marrying into such a scandalous family.”
Agatha clutched at his lapels. “Exactly how are you related to the Duke of Staines? I don’t remember reading anything of that in the peerage.”
Oscar cupped his hand around her face and lifted her lips to his. “And you never will.”
He quickly kissed her.
Agatha scowled. “So you are not Lord Carrington’s son? Not Lord Carrington at all?”
“Oh, I am still legally Lord Carrington, but my father was, in fact, another man.” He could see the question in her eyes. “Would you believe the very proper Mr. Lynton Manning is my real father? I tell you now, I could not at first.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed. Lynton also loves my mother quite madly. The duke has only just learned of my parentage and is adamant they be married with haste.”
All of a sudden, Agatha laughed. “Oh, dear. We really are quite tame, are we not, in comparison, Oscar?”
“Tame for now. But I have such great plans for tonight.” He set his lips to Agatha’s, longing for the moment when they could be alone again.
A throat cleared behind them and they turned. The duke had stuck his head out the carriage door. “Children. Let’s get you married first and then you can resume your private assignation. There’s always a welcome for new family. Don’t hesitate to get her with child when it’s convenient. But Redding and Lady Prewitt are drenching my carriage in blood. Can we please move along?”
Oscar escorted Agatha to the carriage and squeezed in beside her. “So you like children, Your Grace?”
“Oh, yes. Manning delivered me seven just yesterday. He’s adopting the children from the orphanage as his own.” The duke laughed suddenly. “One hopes he tells your mother about it after the wedding, or I fear she’ll faint with shock.”
A tear fell down Agatha’s cheek. “He’s taking all of them? Why?”
“The orphanage closed, my dear, and, given the scandal you two stirred up, Lynton had to talk fast to secure their care.” The duke took up her hand and rubbed soothingly. “But not all will live with him. Seven is too grand a family for a man of his age with a new wife. I thought perhaps you would consent to raise little Betty, Mabel, and Kitty. The little scamps pleaded to see you befor
e they were removed to my estate, and then the others joined in and created a tearful uproar. I am currently overrun with little ones.”
Agatha turned to Oscar, a plea in her eyes. He nodded. “Those three, or all if you have no objection, Your Grace. I’ll speak to my father about it.”
Agatha hugged Oscar then turned her tearful gaze on the duke. “Thank you, Your Grace. Your charity toward the orphans proves the nasty rumors about you are false and completely untrue.”
Redding lifted his head from the squabs. “Don’t count on it. He’s hardly a stranger to scandal. It runs in the family.”
While the duke and Redding resumed their squabbling, Oscar pulled Agatha hard against him. “I could have lost you.”
She smiled softly and set her fingers over his lips when he would have continued to voice his fears. “No chance of that. I know everything about you, Oscar. Like cupid’s arrow, your aim is true.”
Agatha kissed him, and although the duke cleared his throat, Redding coughed, and Lady Prewitt sat mute across the carriage, they did not stop kissing until they had to. Exactly long enough to say ‘I do’.
Epilogue
OSCAR THREW ANOTHER log on the fire and held his hands out to the blaze. It was a perfect night for seduction. He’d been thinking of getting Agatha alone and away from the children all day. He was so desperate for her, he ached.
“It’s hardly fair, you know.”
Oscar smiled as he got to his feet and admired his wife’s sleek bare back. “Nonsense, it’s just the right size for us. Trust me.”
His gaze drifted lower. Agatha sat at her new pianoforte, naked and playing a soft tune just for him. But at this rate, he’d never be able to keep his hands empty of her for long. Her body was a delight, and he could never get enough of her.
“But it’s far too big for us to use all of it.”
Oscar moved so he could see her breasts. Although covered by her unbound hair, the peaked buds of her nipples peeked through the strands. His mouth watered. “Agatha, you’ve got to believe me. This is perfect. You just have to be prepared to make the adjustment.”