by Fanny Finch
He stepped closer to her and she fought the urge to step back. He was looming over her now and she realized how much bigger he was than she. “My… my lord, you must do as I ask. My friend does not deserve your ire. I…”
Sir Franklin took another step toward her, this time coming close enough that she could feel his breath on her face as he glared down at her.
“My Lord…” She attempted to take a step back but was stopped by his hands on her shoulders. He yanked her into the foyer, spinning her around and catching her by one wrist. She struggled against his hold but he just smiled at her, holding her arm up in the air.
Lavinia cast a pleading glance at the butler, who was standing to the side, looking bemused. It was obvious this was not the first time he had seen the master abusing a woman. She felt like crying. Terror slipped through her when she realized he was not going to help her.
Sir Franklin’s hot breath brushed over her face when he leaned close and hissed, “You should not have come here alone, little woman. Now you have only made things worse for yourself. I will ruin Anna and I will ruin you. Neither of you will ever marry or have children and you will grow old as spinsters. Perhaps you can be lifelong friends and die together in your old age. Otherwise, all alone.”
He chuckled menacingly. Lavinia’s terror was mounting. If the butler would not help her and Sir Franklin made good on his threats, she was looking at a very long night of pain.
“Now you will do as I say. Or you will suffer the consequences.”
Lavinia wanted to cry but she did not want Sir Franklin to know how very frightened she was. She tried to look at him defiantly but when he hauled her to his chest and moved his head down to kiss her lips, she could not help but whimper and turn her face away from him.
“My lord,” the butler said in a calm voice. “We have another unexpected guest.”
Relief swept through Lavinia. She leaned and looked around Sir Franklin, who had spun around at the same time, his eyes glaring at whomever had come to the door.
She nearly wept when she saw Sir Henry standing there, his face set in an angry growl. He reached in and grabbed Sir Franklin around the collar. With a might shove, he tossed the slightly smaller man away from Lavinia.
Sir Franklin’s hands released Lavinia and she ran to Sir Henry, who grabbed her in both arms. He hauled her through the door, looking over his shoulder to make sure Sir Franklin did not come after them.
Lavinia was weeping by the time they got to the carriage. While she sat in it, Sir Henry tied his horse to the carriage, and they left the Ashdown mansion behind.
“I am so sorry to have caused all this trouble, my lord,” Lavinia whispered. “I am so sorry.”
“You must not think of this again, Miss Lavinia. I am glad I was there to save you. I heard you telling my sister you were coming here and knew it was not a good idea. There was no time to talk to the Marquess of Kent. I had to make sure you were safe from Sir Franklin. He is not a good man.”
“That… that’s what Anna said. She… she was right. I cannot believe I was so stupid to come here and confront him alone.
“It is all right, Miss Lavinia.” Sir Henry looked at her with sympathetic eyes and spoke in a soft voice. “You are safe now. You are safe. It is best that you stay with us tonight, as we are nearby and Sir Franklin will not come to our home to get you.”
“But I cannot, Sir Henry. I must meet my mother and the Marquess tomorrow.”
“Do not worry, I will make sure you are there on time.”
Lavinia was uncomfortable with the prospect of not going home but she was feeling so shaken by what had just happened, she did not protest any more.
“All right. Thank you, Sir Henry.”
“It is my pleasure.”
Chapter 26
Myles walked up to the front door of the Bronson home and lifted the knocker three times banging it on the door.
It was opened by the butler, who bowed to him as he stepped back to let the Marquess pass. He took his hat, jacket, and gloves.
“Good morning, my lord,” the butler said. “It is good that you are here.”
Myles lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “And why would that be, my good man?”
“It may not be my place to say, my lord, but my lady is in dire straits.”
Myles frowned. “Why is that?”
“I must take you to her, sir. It is for her to tell you.”
Myles had to admit the butler had an obvious look of relief on his face when he saw him. A twitch of nervousness went through him as he followed the butler to the parlor door.
The older gentleman opened the door and stepped in. “The Marquess of Kent has arrived, my lady.”
Myles stepped around the butler just in time to see Mrs. Bronson jump to her feet. Her long red gown swished around her feet. She was kneading her hands together, a look of intense worry on her face. Myles had never seen such worry lines.
“My lady, what has happened?”
It had to be something with Lavinia. Myles felt his chest tighten with dread. He stepped quickly over to the lady, who curtsied. He stopped a few feet away from her and bowed.
“My lady. Please tell me what has caused you such worry.”
“It is Lavinia, my lord. Oh, I am so glad you are here.” Mrs. Bronson turned halfway and stared at the door he had come in.
“What has happened to Lavinia?” Myles’ muscles tightened, and he struggled to control his apprehension. He wished Mrs. Bronson would just come out and say it. “Please tell me.”
“She did not come home last night,” Mrs. Bronson said plainly. “I am terribly worried about her.”
The first thought that ran through Myles’ head was that he had dismissed Mr. Gentry too soon. He would have been watching to see who Lavinia was making contact with.
“You have gotten no message from her?” He looked down at the carpet, trying to think where Lavinia would have gone. The only place he could think of was the Astor townhouse. If Lavinia was going to stay in London, she would probably stay there. But why would she not come home when today was so important to her?
“No, there has been no message. I do not think she would have sent me a message if she stayed at the Astor townhouse. It is the only place she would stay if she did not want to leave London.”
Myles nodded. “Those were my thoughts, as well. You must not worry further, my lady. Come, sit back down.” He gently guided her with his hands until she was seated and comfortable again. He sat beside her, leaning forward and sitting on the edge of the settee.
“I must offer you some tea, my lord, if you wish to wait for Lavinia to come home.”
“It is a good idea to sit for a minute and have some tea and biscuits,” Myles replied. “But when you are more relaxed, perhaps we should just go to the Astor townhouse and fetch her.”
Mrs. Bronson nodded. Myles stood up, giving her a long glance before going to the cords hanging by the bar and pulling the one that rang the bell in the kitchen. A maid would bring them tea and biscuits and the woman could calm herself.
He felt a bit aggravated with her. His first thought was that Lavinia had gotten hurt. That someone had hurt her. The events of the last few months ran through his head. The threats toward himself and Jasper, the accidents that had been happening to him.
Mr. Gentry telling him she had been seen cavorting with Sir Franklin did not help matters. He was certain it was not her that was seen with the man. She would not do that after accepting a marriage proposal from him.
All because of a little lady with blond hair and blue eyes who was given a huge fortune as a dowry. Sir Edward had done all he could to protect Lavinia. Myles was going to do the same.
He returned to the settee and sat the same way, on the edge, his elbows on his knees. Myles spoke quietly as they waited for the tea.
“I am sure Miss Bronson stayed at the Astor townhouse. She will be fine. I am a bit surprised she has not yet returned. This was to be an important day for us.”
Mrs. Bronson nodded. “Yes, she has been so excited since you asked her to marry you. I am pleased with this and I am hoping you will make her very happy. You have done so well with that so far.” Mrs. Bronson gave him a wide smile.
Myles returned the smile. “Thank you, my lady. I will do my best, I assure you.”
“You were a good friend to her father, were you not? My Sir Edward, what a fine man he was.” Mrs. Bronson spoke in a soft, wistful tone.
“I valued him highly. He was above me in rank when we were in the King’s Army and I looked to him as my mentor. He taught me a great deal about life, about maturity and what it means to be a man. I will always think of him fondly.”
“I am pleased to hear that, my lord,” Mrs. Bronson turned her eyes to him and he saw Lavinia in them. It was a trait the mother had passed on to her daughter, along with the shape of her lips and the gentle curve of her chin. “I am feeling calm, if you would like to postpone the tea and biscuits and go into town.”
Just as she said the words, the door was pushed open and a petite maid carrying a tray that looked larger than she was came into the room. She skillfully crossed the room, the tray never wavering in her hands. Myles thought she set it down rather hard but was sure it was due to the weight of it. With only a teapot, two cups, and a plate of biscuits on it, Myles was surprised it was too heavy for the girl, even at her small stature.
She curtsied to them and left without a word. Myles turned his eyes to Mrs. Bronson just as she was giving him an amused look.
“Perhaps this is a sign that we should have our refreshments before we go?” he asked with a grin.
“Yes, my lord, I do believe so.”
Myles led the lady out of the house twenty minutes later and helped her into the coach. He was feeling very comfortable with her and could see how feminine and kind she was. Sir Edward had been truly a blessed man. His wife and his daughter were both devoted, loyal, honest women who would never have caused him harm.
Aggravation, perhaps, Myles thought, smiling inside. But all women could be aggravating. His own step-mother had shown that. He suspected she had been a deeply unhappy woman despite all that his father did for her.
As an adult, he now realized that her depression had nothing to do with him. It was something he could not discuss with her, as he was just a child at the time.
Now, she was not available to ask about it. Watching his step-mother had shaped the relationships the Marquess had with any women. He had avoided the prospect of falling in love, courting, getting married, and had chosen a life of isolation, the thought of a failed, unhappy marriage too much for him to bear.
He sat across from Mrs. Bronson, settling comfortably on the bench seat.
As the horses pulled the coach down the pathway from the house that went to the main road to London, he looked to his side and saw two papers sitting there. He offered one to Mrs. Bronson who shook her head, declining politely.
He set it back down and unfolded the one in his hands, scanning the headlines of the articles for something interesting. His eyes were almost immediately drawn to a community section, where people of the ton were discussed in a gossipy fashion. He typically avoided the section, as he was not interested in gossip. But when he saw Lavinia’s name connected to Sir Franklin, he could not avoid it.
He read the article with growing fury. It stated that not only had Lavinia been seen around town with Sir Franklin, just as Mr. Gentry had said, it also claimed that just the night before, Lavinia was seen entering Sir Franklin’s home. Included was a lurid letter filled with graphic words that made Myles feel sick to his stomach.
Myles did not noticed that he was gripping the paper so hard it was crumpling on the side. He clenched his jaw and continued reading. Not only was she seen entering the home, she was also seen sharing an embrace with the man.
The unwanted picture of Lavinia kissing Sir Franklin ran through Myles mind. His stomach turned and he felt sick. It even reported that she had not returned home the night before.
Myles smashed the paper together and tossed it to the side of the bench. Mrs. Bronson’s eyes darted from the window to his face and then down to the crumpled paper.
“Are you all right, my lord?”
“I did not see anything worthwhile to read,” Myles grumbled, not wanting to take his anger or his jealousy out on someone who did not deserve it. He saw no need in worrying Mrs. Bronson until he found out where Lavinia actually was. If she was at the Astor townhouse, perhaps she would have some explanation for this travesty.
If she was not there, it would mean she had gone to Sir Franklin’s after all and had not returned home for a specific reason. The thought made his stomach turn again.
He was relieved when he saw the townhouse in the distance. He had never been there but knew where it was. He scanned the outside of the home as they approached, searching the windows for Lavinia, as if she would be standing in one, waiting for him.
He saw no one. The curtains did not move when they pulled up in front of the place.
Myles jumped out, grabbing the paper and taking it with him. He did not offer to help Mrs. Bronson out. The driver could do that, as far as he was concerned. He wanted answers.
He stomped up the short steps to the porch and crossed to the door, pounding on it. When the butler answered it, his eyes were wide with surprise. He looked up at the Marquess.
Before he could say anything, Myles pushed past him.
“Where is Lavinia? Is she here? Lavinia!” the Marquess yelled out her name, looking around the foyer at the doors, watching for one to open.
“Lavinia?”
Myles did not care that several maids had come from their various workplaces and were leaning over the railing of the second floor, staring down at him. One was whispering behind her hand to another, her eyes moving back and forth between her coworker and Myles.
“Lavinia?”
Myles sensed Mrs. Bronson coming up behind him but did not turn. His eyes shot up the stairwell when a very frightened and disheveled looking Lavinia appeared at the top. She looked as guilty as he had ever seen her.
She rested her hand on the railing and made her way down quickly. He wondered at her appearance. It was almost as though he had just woken her up and she had thrown on a dress as quickly as she could. Her hair, only brushed out, hung around her shoulders.
Her eyes were pleading with him as she came closer.
“My lord! I am so sorry I was not there when you arrived at our home. It was not my intention to stay out so late. Sir Henry told me he would have me home in time but I must have overslept. Please accept my apology, my lord.”
Myles scowled at her. “It is not your absence when you said you would be there that has upset me so, Miss Bronson,” he said in a cold voice. The look of surprise and fear on her face made him a bit more satisfied. He shoved the newspaper at her, flapping it a few times.
“What did you do last night? Were you here all night?”
Lavinia’s eyes widened. “Of course I was, my lord! Where else would I be?”
“Sir Franklin’s?” Myles growled.
Lavinia’s face went pale and she dropped her eyes to the paper. He had never seen such a look of guilt and shame on her face as he did right then. It made his heart hurt to think that she had betrayed him so. He watched her unfold the paper.
He leaned over as she was scanning the paper and pointed at the section to which he was referring.
“Right there, Miss Bronson,” he said. He took the opportunity to jab his finger at the paper a few times, expressing what he thought of the article. He jabbed it so hard, it almost slipped from Lavinia’s fingers. “Right there. What is the meaning of this? I demand some answers from you.”
“I… I do not know. Perhaps if you would let me read it, my lord.”
Myles clenched his jaw in anger again and stepped back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He would be quiet. But he would get his answers.
Chapter 27
Lavinia jumped to her feet when she heard the Marquess roaring her name. She had been lounging in the window seat of the room she occupied when she stayed at Arbor townhouse, waiting for Sir Henry to awaken. He had yet to come and get her to take her home.
She had to admit, she was starting to worry just before the Marquess arrived. She was not sure when they were meeting but was certain the Marquess would have already arrived at her mother’s home.
She ran past the mirror, stopping for only a moment to make sure her face was not dirty. Her hair, however, was a curly mess. She dragged her brush through it a few times and tried to tame the curls but it was impossible.