Chuckling, he kissed her cheek. “I’m only involved with you, and I plan to keep it that way until my last breath.”
“Oh, Drew.” She tossed her arms around his neck. “I knew the rumors had to be false.”
Thank the heavens he hadn’t ruined everything with his foolishness. “Will you still marry me today?”
“Nothing could stop me.”
***
At first, Lana’s mother protested the sudden nuptials based on Lana having no wedding gown or celebratory breakfast planned. Yet, when Drew promised to buy Lana any gown she desired to wear to any celebration her mother chose to host in the near future, she had given her hearty blessings. Papa hadn’t been resistant in the least, and Lana was grateful neither of them questioned their haste to join in matrimony. She hadn’t wanted to disappoint them by revealing the necessity of a rushed wedding, but it seemed quite necessary given her cycle was a few days late. Her stomach somersaulted when she considered motherhood.
“I’ll be back at four o’clock with Vicar Dunlevy.” Drew dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek while her parents pretended not to notice.
Lana escorted him to the front door.
Drew flashed a roguish grin, looking for all the world as if he wished to devour her on the spot. “You haven’t forgotten your special vow, have you, my sweet?”
Her cheeks flamed as she recalled his wicked teasing about adding a promise to wrap her legs around him every day to her wedding vows. “Perhaps the nature of the agreement between you and my legs should remain a secret.”
Drew planted a less virtuous kiss on her lips. At this moment, she would promise him just about anything he desired.
She eased from his embrace. “You best leave so I have time to make myself beautiful.”
“You require no time at all, my sweet.”
With arms linked, they approached the front doors.
Jake barreled inside, nearly knocking them over in his rush. She held her breath, silently begging him not to cause a scene.
“Forest.” Her brother nodded before handing his hat and cane to Hogan as if nothing was amiss.
“Hillary.” Drew raised his eyebrows in askance.
Lana shrugged.
He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed his lips to her glove. “Until later, Miss Hillary.”
Once she and Jake were alone, he cleared his throat. “Later? What exactly does the scoundrel have planned for later?”
“We’re exchanging vows. Today.” She studied her brother’s blank expression. “Where have you been?”
He evaded eye contact. “I needed to speak with someone. But you needn’t worry about Forest. The rumors are untrue, but I suppose you already discovered the truth.”
“Drew denied any involvement with Lady Audley, but I’m glad for the confirmation.”
“Happy to be of service,” he mumbled as he headed toward the staircase.
***
Lana chattered as Betsy arranged her hair. She couldn’t recall ever being this excited about anything, except maybe Michaelmas when she was a child.
“And I learned today he is remodeling the town house in Piccadilly for us.” She grabbed her maid’s hand and squeezed. “I never thought I would see the day I’d become a bride.”
Her maid offered a half smile. “I knew it would happen, miss.” She twisted Lana’s hair and pinned it up. “Perhaps you would like a glass of wine to calm your nerves?”
“My nerves?” Lana giggled. “I’m not nervous. This is me ecstatic, Betsy. I know I’m usually a stick-in-the-mud when you’re preparing me to go out, so I don’t blame you for being confused by my current demeanor.”
Her maid placed her hands on Lana’s shoulders and leaned down to view her face in the mirror. “You are glowing, miss. I can clearly see your excitement. Maybe you would like tea and biscuits instead. It’s best to have something in your stomach. You wouldn’t want to faint at your wedding like my cousin did.”
Lana pressed her lips together and searched her memory for what she had eaten that day. She couldn’t recall having had anything, but she doubted she could sit still long enough to eat. “Perhaps some tea, Betsy. Thank you.”
“Of course, miss. I will inform the kitchen staff.”
While Betsy was out of the room, Lana surveyed her bedchamber. She would miss her home. Yet, the time had come to move forward in her life. She welcomed the change with open arms.
Finally, her maid returned with a tea tray loaded with a white tea pot and plate of lemon biscuits.
“Why didn’t you have the footman carry it up?”
Betsy shrugged. “Everyone seems busy with preparations for this afternoon. Mrs. Gibbons is buzzing around the kitchen shouting orders. It seems a feast is to be served after the vows.”
Betsy held out the tray and Lana plucked a biscuit from the porcelain plate before she placed the refreshments on a side table then poured a cup of tea and handed it to Lana. Taking a sip, Lana wrinkled her nose. “It’s strong. I believe it steeped too long.”
“Should I add more sugar and cream?”
“Please.”
Betsy doctored her tea, then handed it back, her hand shaking and causing the china to clatter. “I hope that is better.”
“Why don’t you have some, too?”
Her maid shook her head. “Oh, no, Miss Hillary. I have too many tasks to complete still. I have yet to pack your gowns and I haven’t finished laundering your undergarments. I must see if they have dried on the line downstairs.” Her maid dashed from the room.
Lana shook her head and chuckled. Maybe Betsy could benefit from a glass of wine to settle her nerves. Poor girl. Lana had never seen her as frantic. It must be disconcerting for her maid to contemplate leaving Hillary House for good.
Lana sipped her tea and found the bitter taste less noticeable. After finishing her cup, she drank a second one, but decided against another biscuit. She didn’t wish to spoil her appetite before dinner.
With a contented sigh, Lana rose to examine her two gown choices again. Should she wear the apricot one Drew had complimented her on at Irvine Castle, or should she wear green, his favorite color?
As she took a step forward, she teetered off balance and caught herself against the dresser. Her head spun as she clutched the highboy to keep from tumbling to the floor.
Good heavens. Perhaps she should have a second biscuit after all. It would be mortifying to swoon at Drew’s feet. He would never allow her to hear the end of it. Instead of her body righting itself as she expected, Lana stumbled into her dressing table. Why, she was as uncoordinated as Lord Bollrud on the dance floor.
Pinpricks of blackness started at the outer edges of her vision until all she could see was a narrow point in front of her, and her limbs hung heavy as if made from rock. Then she was falling, only vaguely aware when her head bounced on the intricately patterned carpet.
Drat. Betsy would have to rearrange her coiffure.
Thirty-nine
Drew arrived with the vicar at four o’clock sharp and discovered the butler had already shown his family to the drawing room. Their early arrival didn’t surprise him as his mother was beside herself with excitement. Her only lament was not planning another large celebration as she had done for Rich and Phoebe, but a more intimate gathering suited Drew.
Mr. Hillary joined everyone in the drawing room first, followed by his wife who greeted Drew’s mother and sisters with hugs.
“Lana should be down soon,” Mrs. Hillary said. “I sent a servant to announce your arrival.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hillary.”
Everyone took a seat except Rich, who paced the room on Drew’s behalf, a habit his brother had developed when anxious. Jake entered next, taking a seat close to Drew, but still there was no sign of Lana.
Fighting back his impatience, Drew attempted to engage her brother in conversation. Jake wore that somber expression he often sported when he was deep into his cups. Drew discreetly sniffed to see if he detected a
lcohol. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
“Is everything satisfactory, chap?”
Jake swiped his hand across his brow. “It’s nothing. Just a personal matter on my mind.” Then he amazed Drew by offering a slight grin. It was a poor effort at gaiety, but it was an effort all the same. “Lana is happy. Do not foul it up.”
“Agreed.”
Jake accepted Drew’s handshake.
After a long while, the butler approached Mr. Hillary and murmured in low tones Drew couldn’t make out.
He scooted to the edge of his seat and rested his hands on his knees, ready to jump up and go to Lana. If she was having second thoughts, he could change her mind again. With any luck, she kept a lock on her door, for his powers of persuasion worked best without uninvited guests barging in.
Lana’s father moved outside of the drawing room to speak with the servant, but his voice carried. “What is the meaning of this? Have you searched everywhere? Look again.”
Drew bolted from the chair and stalked from drawing room. “Something has gone awry.”
Lana’s father scratched his head. “Hogan reports my daughter is not in her chambers.”
Mrs. Hillary bustled into the corridor. “James, what is it? Where’s Lana?”
Soon every member of their combined families gathered outside of the drawing room, asking for explanations.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Mr. Hillary said. “The servants are searching the house.”
“She has to be here somewhere,” Lana’s mother stated. “Where would she go?”
“Perhaps she came to her senses,” Gabby mumbled.
Drew ignored his precocious sister.
The pinched-faced butler returned. “Sir, I’m afraid Miss Hillary is not in the house. The staff searched every place imaginable.”
“We’ll see about that,” Jake said and sprinted toward the staircase.
Drew liked his initiative and followed on his heels. They dashed through the open door of her chambers, but no one was inside.
“Check under the bed,” Drew said.
Jake took two steps then halted and threw a harassed look over his shoulder. “She’s not hiding under the bed, you dolt.”
Drew crossed to the mahogany bed and checked anyway. Not finding her, he hurried to the wardrobe to throw open the doors. She wasn’t there either, not that Drew had expected she would be, but he didn’t trust the servants to have checked every conceivable hiding place. He glanced toward the window then dismissed the idea.
“Would she have gone for a walk with her lady’s maid?” he asked.
Her brother pulled a watch from his pocket and checked the time. “Not bloody likely. She knew the time of the nuptials. I can’t fathom she would leave the house.”
Truth, the blasted rounder, delivered a gut-punch. “Hell’s teeth. She has changed her mind again. I knew I shouldn’t have left to change attire.”
“Lana is too stubborn to cry off.” Jake shoved the watch back in his pocket. “She has vowed to make me miserable ever since I pulled off her dolly’s head when she was four. Now that she has found a way to make good on her promise, she isn’t going to leave it go.” Jake moved toward the staircase. “I’m searching outside.”
“Not without me.”
Jake, Rich, and Drew huddled on the front steps to form a plan of attack before each of them took off in a different direction. They would search the surrounding neighborhood while servants combed the gardens and fanned out to search Hyde Park. Two hours later, no one had seen any sign of Lana nor found a clue to hint at her whereabouts. Drew refused to give up the hunt. He expanded his search, praying she had come to her senses and was crying off. This seemed the better scenario than any other he imagined.
***
Faraway voices broke through the blackness, but Lana only caught a word or two before sliding back into a dream state. Her arms and legs refused to budge. She tried to swallow against the grit in her mouth, but she couldn’t produce any saliva. Something rough pressed against her cheek, and she thought to change her position, but sleep overtook her before she could put thought into action.
“’Ow much did ya give ’er?”
“I don’t know.” A high-pitched whine broke through her drowsiness. “I just poured it into the teapot.”
“Is she dead?”
Dead? Well, that would be a dratted inconvenience.
Ice-cold fingers touched her forehead, unpleasant in the extreme, but reassuring her that she was well and alive, and a mite irritated to have been left lying on the floor. The delicate hand settled on her chest for a moment before withdrawing. “She’s warm and still breathing.”
Footsteps clomped toward her. “I should kill ’er now. Get it over with.”
Goodness, Vicar Dunlevy was on a tear today. The delay in their nuptials seemed a minor inconvenience at best, but the man had always been a bit of a malcontent.
“I only fainted,” Lana tried to say but her words came out garbled.
“She is only good to us alive,” the woman said. “How do you expect to get the money otherwise?”
As Lana slowly returned to full consciousness, she blinked into the darkness. Where was she? She wasn’t at Hillary House, at least not in her lavender-scented bedchamber. Her lip curled. What was that stench? It was like rotten onions and sheep. Lana turned her head away from the smell.
Moonbeams poked through the grimy glass of a window, doing a poor job of lighting the space. This had best not be Drew’s idea of a decent home in which to raise their family. Men should never be entrusted with a woman’s task.
The small room amplified every sound, the shuffling of feet, the gurgling of the woman’s stomach—or was that her stomach? She really was ravenous now.
“Wake ’er up.”
“Quiet, Reg, and speak proper like I taught you,” the woman scolded. “This is your fault. You had one task and you bungled it.”
A deep roar reverberated through the air followed by a crash and the sound of splintering wood.
Lana’s heart leapt in surprise.
“It was a damned stupid idea,” he said. “I shoulda taken ’er when I had the chance. It was a waste of my time.”
“It wouldn’t have been necessary to take her at all if you had done your part, and we wouldn’t be reduced to criminals. The plan would have worked,” the woman repeated. “I know it.”
An involuntary sigh escaped Lana’s lips as her body worked to revive itself, to recover from whatever plagued it.
“I think she’s waking.” Lana recognized the speaker’s voice.
“Betsy?” It came out as a croak.
“Get her something to drink.”
The man grumbled as his footfalls retreated. There was a rustle then more stomping back into the room. “’Ow long do ya think we can keep ’er ’ere? Are ya sure no one can find us?”
A flash of light alerted Lana to the flask in his hand when he thrust his arm toward Betsy.
The maid accepted the flask and slid her arm under Lana’s shoulders. “How would they know to look here? You have to sit up, miss.”
Lana struggled to lift her shoulders from the ground, finding the movement made her head spin. Betsy supported her weight and raised the cold metal container to rest against her lips before spilling the liquid into Lana’s mouth. Fiery alcohol scorched her tongue before blazing a path down her throat. She gasped and sputtered, coughing until she doubled over on her side.
“I take it you have no lemonade?” she asked when she could breathe normally again.
“I know it’s hard to get down, miss, but it’s all we have.”
“Where am I?”
“It don’t matter,” the man growled. “Don’t get no ideas.”
Lana could see his outline in the dark, but she couldn’t distinguish any of his features. Nevertheless, his voice struck a familiar chord and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. “It’s you,” she whispered, but neither seemed to hear. The man from Irvine Cas
tle. The one who chased her in the maze. “Wh-what do you want?” Her dry lips stuck together in the corners.
“Why don’t ya shut up?” the man barked.
“Reggie, allow me to explain. I’m certain she will assist us.”
Lana’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she could visualize parts of Betsy’s face. Her maid sat by her side, still holding the flask. The man called Reggie snatched the alcohol from Betsy’s hand before walking away with it. Lana caught a brief glimpse of blond hair, but nothing more. The man grunted before opening a door, allowing a gust of cold air to steal into the space and sweep over her body, then slammed the door as he left.
She recalled her maid mentioning a brother once when she had started her position. Was it three years ago? “Reggie? Isn’t that your brother’s name?”
“You should keep your observations to yourself, miss,” Betsy whispered. “He won’t be happy.”
“A bit of a curmudgeon, is he?” she muttered.
Lana had no idea why the man was angry with her, but he spoke with such hatred, she didn’t question Betsy’s assertion. She struggled to sit, realizing for the first time that they had bound her hands and ankles. Hearing her maid’s voice upon waking had lulled her into feeling secure, but panic surged through Lana as she recognized the actual danger of the situation.
Her breaths came rapid and shallow as the sound of blood swished in her ears. She fought against the ropes, writhing on the floor and scraping her knuckles against the wood in the process. Papa always complained about the difficulties of finding good help. Now she understood his dilemma.
“Really, Betsy. I’m afraid I must terminate your position.”
The door slammed again. “Keep ’er quiet, or I’ll quiet ’er for good.”
Betsy’s hand cupped Lana’s forehead, and she leaned close to speak softly in her ear. “Please be still, miss. Once your family pays, this will be over and you can go home. But we need something from you.”
Lana forced her breathing to slow and she swallowed. “What do you want from me?”
“It’s easy, Miss Hillary. We simply need you to write something for us, that’s all.”
Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel Page 26