Seducing The Perfectly Enchanting Marquess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Scarlett Osborne

  He said the word devotion with such derisiveness and disgust that Amanda felt certain that it was an emotion he had never, himself, experienced.

  “But I was wrong,” he continued. “Even with a brat underfoot, she was still determined to refuse the desire she had for me.”

  He turned to look at her, and Amanda saw something new in his eyes. Something dark. A promise of violence and an utter absence of compassion. She shivered.

  “A man can only take so much rejection, darling, before he loses his head. I’m afraid I may have acted hastily in my anger. I have so missed seeing that beautiful face of hers.”

  Amanda went cold.

  “How…did Mother die?” she whispered.

  That ungodly smirk returned to his face. “A fire, my dear. Odd how those things happen, eh? Although I never did understand how you managed to slip away. I like to think of it as Providence giving me another chance. I could not have Margaret, so I will have you instead.”

  Amanda cried out as he pushed her against the cold wall, locking her between his arms as he braced them on either side of her. She racked her brain for the old butler’s name.

  “Mister Tibbs!” she called out when she remembered. “Mister Tibbs!”

  Lord Pemperose continued on as though she hadn’t said anything.

  “It’s better this way. Margaret was past her prime. But you…” His hands traveled up the sides of her body. Amanda tried in vain to twist out of his grasp. “You are just about the ripest, freshest little thing I have ever laid eyes upon.”

  “Mister Tibbs!” Amanda shrieked.

  Lord Pemperose laughed. “He can’t hear you, Amanda. The man is deaf and half lame besides. And the coachman, well, he and I see eye to eye on many things. No one will come between us, my dear.”

  A surge of panic went through her as his hand traveled up toward her breast. In a sudden flash of movement, she brought her knee up with as much force as she could muster, colliding savagely with his groin.

  Lord Pemperose heaved forward, crumpling over himself as he braced himself against the wall, grunting in pain.

  Amanda took her chance and ran.

  Chapter 36

  Amanda flung herself at the front door, dashing down the steps so quickly that she lost her footing and tumbled down the last couple. She scraped her ankle against the stone and felt a slight trickle of blood, but she did not stop running.

  Her heart was racing as panic seized her. She didn’t know where she was. In every direction was unfamiliar countryside. They had been in the carriage for at least an hour, and she didn’t know if she had the strength to run all the way back to London.

  Still, there was no other option. She ran as quickly as her legs could carry her.

  “Catch her!” she heard Lord Pemperose’s voice behind her. When she whirled her head around to look over her shoulder, she saw him in front of the house, clutching his groin, red in the face and pointing at her.

  The coachman appeared from behind the house and caught sight of her.

  Amanda turned her head back around and ran faster. She felt as though she was running in slow motion, and before long, she heard horses’ hooves behind her. She didn’t need to look back to know that the coachman was after her. She shrieked as a muscular arm wrapped around her waist and she was hauled unceremoniously up and across the back of a running horse.

  She screamed and thrashed, trying to get away, but the coachman held her fast, reining in the horse and turning it around. She was brought back to Lord Pemperose’s overgrown estate in shame and disarray.

  The coachman was silent, but gruff. He hoisted her down off the horse when he arrived back at the house and tossed her over his shoulder as though she were a sack of flour. Amanda resented being carried like that, and she tried to wrest herself free from him, but exhaustion was beginning to set in.

  “Put her in the guest room,” she heard Lord Pemperose say.

  She was taken to a small, drab room containing one large bed and a single hard-backed chair. She was dumped onto the bed, and before she could get up, the door was shut against her. With dismay, she heard a heavy lock sliding into place.

  Amanda threw herself against the door, pounding and crying out, but she heard two heavy sets of footsteps walking away and soon all was absolutely silent. So silent that she wondered if they had left the house altogether and she was truly alone.

  She slumped against the door, sliding down to the floor. Her ankle throbbed, and her ribs were sore from how she had been carried. She tried to catch her breath, but her terror prevented it. Her heart continued to pound as though she were still running away.

  She closed her eyes and listened. A slight rain had begun to tap against the window.

  The window.

  A slight flash of hope went through her, but when she crossed to the window and looked down, she cringed at the distance from the window to the ground and the sharp, forbidding mass of rosebushes below. Even if the fall into thorny bushes didn’t prevent her from trying to escape out the window, the fact that the window was jammed shut would.

  Feeling utterly helpless, she threw herself across the bed and wept. She dared not think of what might happen to her next. She was miles away from anyone who would help her.

  “Oh, Joseph,” she whispered as she cried. How long would it be before he realized that she was not sending him any letters? How long until he began to worry? How long until he came looking for her?

  It will be too late by then.

  She clutched a dusty pillow, burying her face in it and trying to stop the trembling that had taken over her body.

  She must have fallen asleep. When she awoke, her body ached. The blood on her ankle had dried, sticking to her stocking. Her mouth was dry. It was dark outside.

  The rain that had begun as a trickle had worsened into a downpour, with high winds that rattled the windowpanes and seemed to threaten to rip the roof right off the house.

  I hope it does. I hope this place floods. I hope the whole house gets carried away.

  Her bitter train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door.

  “Amanda, darling, are you awake?”

  It was Lord Pemperose. His sickly sweet voice disgusted her. Amanda sat up and stared at the door.

  He knocked harder.

  “Wake up, sweetie.”

  “What do you want?” she asked, rising to her feet.

  “It’s dinner time, my love. Time to eat. If you are very good, I will try to forgive what happened before. Let’s start over all right?”

  He is insane!

  There was an unhinged quality about the way he spoke that chilled Amanda to her bone. It was as if she were dealing with some sort of monster and not a man at all.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  She heard him chuckle quietly. “Of course, you are. You haven’t eaten since we left London this morning. No one is going to bring food up to your room, and I won’t unlock this door unless you promise to behave. You can either come down to dinner like a good girl or you can starve in that room all alone. The choice is yours.”

  The thought of starving didn’t sound so terrible compared to what she thought Lord Pemperose might do if she went down with him.

  But he has the key. He will do what he wants regardless of if I starve myself or not.

  Amanda cast one last glance at the window. There was no way out.

  With a sigh of resignation, she decided to heed the insistent growling of her stomach and accept dinner. Perhaps it would be poisoned.

  No. He wants me alive. For now, at least.

  She crossed to the door and put her hand on the door handle.

  “You promise to be polite, now?” he asked through the door.

  “I promise to eat quietly,” she answered.

  He seemed to consider this for a moment. Then there was the metallic clinking wound of a key being slid into the lock. The door swung open. Lord Pemperose has changed his clothes and was now wearing evening attire. His cris
p white shirt and black waistcoat made him look neat, tidy. An appearance so at odds with the malevolent chaos of the man’s mind.

  “How pleased I am that you have seen reason. Normally I will have you dress for dinner, but I think you look quite charming, fresh as you are from your little nap. For tonight I will allow this disheveled appearance.”

  He spoke as though he was not planning on murdering her as he had murdered her mother and father, at least. She tried to find some comfort in that.

  He offered her his arm. Every bit of her psyche recoiled at the thought of touching him at all, but the violent gleam in his eye frightened her so much that she saw no alternative other than to take it. He led her back down to that big room. The one with the portrait of her mother.

  Oh, Mother, how will I get out of this?

  Looking into the smiling eyes of the portrait brought Amanda a small measure of peace.

  He sat her down at the large, heavy oak table on the far end from the fireplace and the portrait. She was seated opposite that end of the room so that, looking over Lord Pemperose’s shoulder, she could focus on her mother.

  The meal looked to be boiled meat and salted vegetables. It was not appetizing. Amanda’s stomach growled, though, and when he put a slice of the meat on her plate, she silently went about eating it. She chewed slowly, wondering what the likelihood was that it was poisoned.

  Mister Tibbs hovered near the table, pouring dark wine into an oversized pewter cup for Lord Pemperose.

  “Light the fire,” Lord Pemperose said gracelessly to the old butler, jerking his thumb in the direction of the gaping fireplace.

  The old man bowed jerkily and silently obeyed.

  Amanda stared over Lord Pemperose’s shoulder as she tried to swallow the tough meat. As the fire was started in the fireplace, the proximity of it to the large portrait which hung above the fireplace seemed symbolic.

  He said they had died in a fire. A fire he set.

  Amanda, who had thought that she had run out of tears to cry, noticed her vision begin to go watery.

  What an awful way to die.

  Once the fire was lit, the ancient servant left the room, his feet dragging as he walked down the corridor. Amanda was left alone with Lord Pemperose once again.

  He ate hastily, shoving the food into his mouth as though he was trying not to taste it. It made her lose her appetite to watch him eat, but she managed to eat enough at least to stop her stomach from grumbling painfully. The food had done her some good in that she felt that she could think a bit clearer now.

  After he was finished eating, Lord Pemperose swallowed the entire cup of wine in one go. He slammed the cup back down and got up from the table.

  “Finished?” he asked her.

  Amanda placed her fork down next to her plate. Half of her food was still there.

  “Yes.”

  “Good!” he exclaimed before turning on his heel and crossing toward the fire. He collapsed into one of the chairs and grinned back at her. “Now, come here.”

  Amanda gulped, taking a small sip of her own wine. She rose to her feet and crossed the room. Her feet were heavy, and she wanted to sprint in the other direction.

  But where can I go? Back to my room, the key to which he has? Back outside into the storm only to be dragged back?

  A flash of lightning illuminated the room in a white glow for a moment. For one instant, her mother, larger than life above the fire, seemed to be lit from within. Only a second later, a peal of thunder crashed overhead. It was so loud that Amanda felt the earth shake under her feet.

  “Does the storm frighten you?” Lord Pemperose asked.

  “No.”

  He smirked. “Pretend it does. I do like when ladies are scared of silly things like that. Come and sit on my lap and I’ll comfort you.”

  Amanda shook her head and backed toward the other chair. “No, I don’t want to.”

  His smirk morphed into an angry frown. “Come now. I thought we were done with all that unpleasantness. Do as I say.”

  The thought of being bandied on Lord Pemperose’s knee before the roaring fire and the unblinking portrait of her mother was too much. She couldn’t do it. Even though she knew that her refusal would incense him.

  “I can’t. I won’t.”

  Lord Pemperose rose up to his feet. She raised her chin to meet his gaze as he looked down at her. She hoped that she appeared far more courageous than she felt. On the inside, she was trembling. But still, she met his gaze defiantly.

  Another flash of lightning cast the room in bright light for just a moment before plunging them back into firelight. The thunder this time didn’t rumble but instead sounded like the earth itself was being torn in two.

  “I’m not an evil man. I would much rather that we have a nice time together.”

  “And if I refuse?” she said, her voice like stone.

  His mouth twisted and she saw his eyes flick to the fire behind her. In a sudden movement, his hand was at her throat and he was pushing her backwards. She could feel the heat of the flames against her back and she clutched at his hand, trying to cry out.

  “I can send you back to your mother and father the same way they went,” he growled in her ear.

  Amanda’s vision sparkled around the edges as he crushed her windpipe. Lord Pemperose’s eyes were black save for the tongues of flame that reflected in their glassy depths.

  It is better to die by his hand than to submit to the man who murdered my parents.

  Her thoughts were jumbled, but this fact rang out clearly. Along with the memory of Joseph’s beautiful face and little Heather’s mischievous laughter.

  She held on to these happy memories and braced herself for what was coming.

  Chapter 37

  There was a sudden sound, and somewhere deep in her mind, Amanda thought that it must be another peal of thunder. But then she was being dropped to the floor. She crumbled, her hands coming to her throat as she sucked down great gulps of air.

  “Get away from her!” a man’s voice rang out.

  Amanda looked up and realized at once that the sound she had heard had not been thunder, but the front door of Lord Pemperose’s home being thrown wide. The door swung back on its hinges, revealing the torrent outside.

  Joseph and Kelly were there, looking as though they had swum across an ocean to get to her.

  “Joseph!” Amanda sobbed; her voice ragged.

  Lord Pemperose made a sudden movement toward her, hauling her to her feet again and holding her tightly in front of himself. It was then that Amanda realized that Kelly had a pistol aimed at Lord Pemperose’s heart.

  “Try it then, My Lord. How good of a shot are you, really?”

  Kelly pressed his lips together and fiddled with the trigger of the pistol, but he did not shoot. Not with Amanda held in front of his target.

  “Let her go,” Joseph said. His gaze flicked back and forth between Kelly with his and Amanda. “Let her go, Pemperose. Stop this now. We know about the Donovans. We know about the fire. It’s over now. Don’t make it worse.”

  Lord Pemperose’s grip tightened across her waist and Amanda sensed that he was panicking. Suddenly, he was shoving her toward the fireplace. She was certain that she would fall in but Joseph caught her, his soaking wet hair dripping into her face.

  There was a struggle, Amanda was disoriented but it seemed as though Lord Pemperose had attacked Joseph. The two men fought and then there was a flash of steel. Lord Pemperose cried out and crumpled to the floor, clutching his shoulder.

  Joseph turned back to her, grabbing Amanda by the shoulders.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, his warm brown eyes full of concern. Amanda wept, warm tears streaming down her face.

  “I thought I’d never see you again,” she sobbed.

  Joseph clutched her to him, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

  Distantly, Amanda was aware of Kelly speaking. He was talking to Lord Pemperose, telling him that the authorities would soon be there to t
ake him in. Amanda twisted in Joseph’s arms to look at Lord Pemperose. The hand that clutched his shoulder was bloodied.

  Lord Pemperose grunted as he staggered to his feet. Then, suddenly, he made a dash for the door. Kelly chased after him, and from the hall, Amanda heard the gun go off.

  She looked at Joseph, her eyes wide, for a moment. Then they both ran after Kelly to see what had happened.