That foul odor and the cloth pressed to her face made her shudder to think the sort of evil they were. “How long have I been abed?”
“Nearly two days, ma’am. The servants were worried sick. If I may be so bold, did you wind up seeing his lordship?”
“I did, and we were married days ago in Gretna Green. Unfortunately, we have not managed to announce our marriage, as I was taken from my brother’s garden shortly after we arrived. Good heavens…Avonlea. Surely he knows where I must be?”
“Yes, miss, I sent word after your arrival. I am still waiting on word from my brother to find out what the plan is, though I imagine once everyone realizes your awake, his grace will push for the wedding on the morrow.”
Of course he would. He would not want anyone to get in the way of him obtaining her dowry. Sadly, he would learn soon enough, he was no longer entitled. Now, if only Avonlea could sweep in and rescue her from Downsbury’s clutches, then they would be able to carry on as if this nightmare never existed.
Her beloved would find her, they would go on and live happily, and she would give him sons to carry on the Bridgeton legacy.
Emily shook her head to clear the fogginess that lingered. She would have to resort to pleading with her mama, and with any hope, the woman would come to her senses.
Finally well enough to leave her room, Emily threw on a wrap and slid into her slippers. Since her arrival back at the manor, the duke had her guarded at all times. Two sentries were posted outside her door, and one escorted her about. Should she have need to leave the confines of the home, she was to be protected by three footmen and her mother’s maid at all times.
She walked down the hall to her mother’s apartments. She knocked then opened the door to find her mother pouring over some paperwork on the desk. “What can I do for you, dear? I have not a moment to spare with all these preparations.”
“What are you about, Mama?” She sensed her mother had a hand in her abduction, but thought now might not be the best of moments to discuss it.
“Your wedding, of course. Thomas has gone to the modiste to pick up our order. I am finalizing the wedding meal, and his grace has already made the arrangements for the service. You should be thankful his grace is willing to forgive you for your past indiscretions and grievances.”
Emily could not believe what she was hearing. Good heavens… My indiscretions and grievances? Clearly, the woman was not right in her head. She was not the one accepting sexual favors the night of her engagement. Nor was she the one knee-deep in a scandal that would rock all of England for its indecency.
She fisted her hands at her side. Trying to keep them inconspicuously out of her mother’s eyes. “I simply cannot marry the duke, so you can stop what you are doing!”
“And why is that, you ungrateful chit?”
“Because I eloped to Gretna Green with Lord Avonlea a fortnight ago. The duke cannot marry a woman who is already married.”
Her mother dropped the paper she was working with and stood, walked over to her, and slapped her across the face. Emily gasped with surprise. Her cheek burned from the contact.
“You would say anything to get out of this, would you not? Well, I have news for you, you selfish little girl. For years, I have aspired to raise myself in society the way it should have been years ago. But your boorish father insisted we did not need to be a part of that life. And look at me now, I am no one. After you are married, I will be introduced to, and welcomed into, other circles. I might even find myself a new husband who is as wealthy as yours.”
And to think, she only considered herself and not my own safety. It was never about finding the right husband for her. It was her mother’s sick perversion to being in high society circles. How could I have been so daft? Right from the beginning, her mother had pushed and pushed, until she got what she wanted. She did not care about credibility or credentials, her only concern was how deep the coffers were and how it would impact her future. The woman was truly mad.
“If you think I will go through with this, know that you have forever lost your only daughter. I will never forgive you for this, Mama!” Emily spun on her heel and retreated to her room without looking back.
* * * *
“I still do not understand why you want to search the pier. If our main suspect is still at port, what makes you think he will linger around?”
“I do not know, Nathaniel, but something is not quite right.”
Charles climbed off his horse and stalked toward the port master’s building. The dilapidated shack, at the very least, should have a fresh coat of paint. Perhaps then, visitors at port would not feel like they had arrived at some privateers docks.
Only two ships were at port, and all was quiet aboard both. When they entered the office, something caught his eye. A familiar burgundy coat…and the laugh. He stopped dead in his tracks and shivered. His breath escaped him, and all the memories he sought to keep hidden in the dark recesses of his memory came back.
“What is wrong, Charles?” Nathaniel leaned against him.
“That voice… There are things I never told you about my time on the continent, Nathaniel. Things I can be charged with.” He struggled to maintain his composure and sucked in a sharp breath. “I was a troubled man, to put it plainly. Instead of following leads, I passed my time in the smoke houses and brothels. When I traveled to Italy, I met a beautiful woman. She was bright and full of life. I had every intention of bringing her back. The trouble was her employer would not release her.”
His friend rested a hand on his back. “There is no need to go on. We all have our demons, and given you have married my sister, I would say you have come a long ways from being the man you were. Let us continue our investigation and move on. I doubt we have much time left before the wedding is to take place.”
They walked further into the room and rang the bell. No one attended them, yet the deeper they traipsed, the louder the laughter became. Avonlea stood quietly in a doorway exiting to the back of the pier and watched the familiar man, dock master, and several others playing cards.
A few moments later, Nathaniel joined him, only this time, he cleared his throat, garnering the attention of ruffians.
“You just had to do that, did you not?” Charles glared at him.
“Yes, I did. We very well could not stand in the shadows like two ninny’s trying to decide what to do.”
Unbelievable! Hell, it is him. The middle-aged, portly Italian still looked the same, with his dark hair long and unkept. He wore commoner’s clothes, even though he was wealthy. Another man I would like to see dead. There was simply no way to hide from his past now. “Well, now that you have gone and done that, I hope you are prepared to fight your way out. I am positive I am not leaving without getting my revenge.”
“What revenge? I thought we were here to discover more about this Italian. What does that man have to do with anything?”
Avonlea stifled a groan. “Because that man is a brothel owner and was the employer of a woman I loved and failed to rescue from his grasp.”
His friend gripped his shoulder and turned him until they faced each other. “Do you mean to tell me that could possibly be the one we are looking for?”
“Maybe, but I can assure you, he will not be leaving alive for what he did to Celine.”
The man dressed in the burgundy coat, and the rest—three total—rose from their seats and approached them with the surliest of glares. Stares that sent shivers up his spine. There is that cold, calculating look I remember.
“Your lordships look too finely dressed for this neck of the woods. To what do we owe this pleasure?” the port master asked, chuckling.
The familiar foreigner snorted. “If it isn’t the English bastardo… You know, Celine would have made me a handsome profit if it were not for you and the piccolino she was carrying.”
He did not…“You have no right to bring her into this!”
Avonlea lunged for the portly clod, and they both went tumbling down the
rickety, wooden staircase. He winced in pain with every step. He would not be surprised if he walked away with a few broken ribs. How dare he mention her name! His heart bled for that woman and the child he had never seen. Christ. If Emily could see me now. He could still save her, and there was still time to be done with the duke.
Shouting off in the distance pulled his thoughts, and Nathaniel yanked him away from the tangle of limbs at the bottom. “We have to go now. It sounds as if the chief prosecutor is here, and he is not alone.”
What? How is that even possible…unless…they’re here to deliver... “Nathaniel, he is the one we need. Grab him, and let’s go. We must go straight to Bow Street. Now!” The earl managed to get up, but his breath escaped him. Hobbling along, he caught up to Nathaniel, evading whatever company descended upon the pier.
Within the hour, he was likely to be incarcerated again, only this time, they had the proof they needed. And soon, he would be with Emily. His dear, sweet Emily.
* * * *
The bishop’s pause right before the vows unnerved her. Emily’s hands trembled at the fact that their ceremony had not been interrupted yet. What if Avonlea never comes for me? What if I wind up marrying the duke? She would be married to two men. Surely, that had to be a sin of grandeur proportions.
What would the duke end up doing with her after her dowry was in his possession? Would he keep her around for a while, or would he ship her away as Lord Wycliffe suggested back at Avonlea’s hunting lodge? Trepidation shook her to the core.
As the silence became too much, guests began whispering. The Duke of Downsbury appeared annoyed, and she could not help but notice how much he fidgeted. She had purposely held back a moment from delivering her vows. Whispers from the haute tons finest carried throughout the century old church. Her mother stood off to the side.
The bishop craned his head.
Shouting from outside of the church echoed throughout the building. The heavy doors burst open and several men holding it closed fell to the floor, toppling over each other.
An unfamiliar man, followed by several others, walked down the aisle toward them. They wore scowls on their faces, and when they stopped by Mr. Sayers, they stood rigid and ready to apprehend the man. The tallest, dark-haired gent adressed the chief prosecutor, “Chief Prosecutor, William Sayers, you are hereby under arrest for failure to report crimes to the office of the magistrate, conspiracy to committing crimes of slavery.”
Emily could not believe what she was hearing. Can this nightmare be truly over?
The man walked over to her and Downsbury. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?” the duke spewed. “Do you not see that you are interrupting a very important moment in our lives? How dare you! The magistrate will hear about this!”
“Who do you think signed the warrant for your arrest as well, your grace? Richard Waite, Duke of Downsbury, you are hereby arrested for crimes against women and slavery. You are to stand trial for the illegal sale of women to foreigners. We have two witnesses who are prepared to speak against you. Do you have anything to say to your almost duchess?”
The duke spit in the man’s face with contempt. “I have nothing to say other than two witnesses mean nothing. You do not have any other evidence.”
“Ah! But that is where you are wrong, your grace. We have searched the dock masters’ records, and we have searched your home already. Fortunately for us, you did not lock up the most important detail. Your correspondence between the chief prosecutor and the Italian.
“I have to say, for a smart gentleman such as yourself to invest in business prospects overseas, you have proven to all of London how stupid you are. It is just as well your duchess is no longer with us, or is she? We shall look into the circumstances of her death, considering how much we have already discovered.”
The duke attempted to run, but the stranger apprehended him before he made it mere feet. “Evading arrest, sir? I do believe that has its own charge, as well.”
“None of you will get away with this. I will come back, and when I do, the lot of you will be sorry for crossing me.” The duke hissed, trying to point at Charles.
“Is that a threat, your grace? I am certain we can add an additional charge to your ever-expanding list. Have you no idea how much pain and suffering your actions have caused? I do not expect you to care, but the women who did not survive your cruelty deserved a better life, than to perish alone.
“You sir, will not only suffer in purgatory, but I will ensure that your stay at Newgate is anything but comfortable. You will never see the light of day again, unless it is the day they hang you from the gallows. I hope you will enjoy your new home.”
Downsbury kicked and screamed, and some guests started to exit the church while others stood and watched with curiosity. Her mother tried to run, but a uniformed man kept her at bay. The bishop could not even form an understandable word in English. “Sinners, the lot of you. Barging into a house of God. May he strike you down.”
“Enough!” Avonlea said, running toward her. “She is already married. We were married a fortnight ago in Scotland, but she was still forced into this marriage. Now, what do you have to say for yourself, bishop?”
Emily threw herself into his arms while her mother cried out before swooning.
“Come, my love. I have an estate and staff I am sure you will want to familiarize yourself with.”
* * * *
Charles woke with his arms still wrapped around his bride. Not even the light streaming into their bedchamber could do her beauty any justice. Her pale and creamy skin looked ethereal, her red wavy locks splayed across the pillow. He had married a goddess, and he counted his blessings many times over for this second coming of life. Of love.
He kissed her shoulder, squeezing her a little tighter. Home had never felt so complete. He wished his parents could see how happy he was now. They would approve of Emily and, most of all, they would be ecstatic at the prospect that a lady had finally captured his heart.
Who would have ever thought he would see the day where he would marry, a proper lady at that? Ignoring the fact that he had the dowager countess as a mother-in-law. He made sure she was not permitted to come to their house.
His brother-in-law—being the brilliant man he is—gave the crone the option to go on an extended holiday to either the continent or the Americas, and he did not leave much room for disagreement. Charles found it rather amusing. He would be glad, knowing she would never set foot in London again.
No one had ever expected to see the day where Downsbury was stripped of his title. His holdings had been sold to pay as restitution for the women’s lives that would never be normal again. Charles was surprised neither he nor Nathaniel had tried to kill the duke, after how the wretched man had destroyed their dignity.
The last anyone had heard on the subject was that Richard Waite had been transferred to Newgate, and Charles hoped very much that the man would think upon his sins, while he lived happily with his bride.
Would the duke ever think back upon all his wrongs? Most likely not. Though, after hearing that the runners would investigate further into the duchess’ accident, one wondered if there was more to the story.
The only thing that had been reported was of the delapitaded carriage being found without a body. One would have expected the riverbanks to be searched. Her body should have washed up or been discovered by now. Nevertheless, even if they did find her corpse, nothing would bring her back.
But for whatever odd reason, he could not stop thinking of her. What if the duchess wasn’t dead? I suppose anything would be better than to learn that her husband was a monster.
Perhaps, once Wycliffe had settled down, Charles could convince him to go on a ride. He would never disclose his real reason for the trip, but if there was ever a chance for Wycliffe to be happy again, he wanted to be able to help the man in any way he could. Avonlea owed him as much for his own part in the couple’s current happiness.
Emily stirred and mumbled something
. “Charles…”
“Yes, my dear.”
“How glorious is it to wake up in such a state of total bliss?”
“I could not agree with you more. How do you fare this morn, Lady Avonlea?”
She moaned then stretched her arms out. After yawning, she turned to face him. “I am a little sore. Considering my insatiable husband kept me up all night, I am surprised I woke up so early.”
“Well my dear, we did have some catching up to do. All I can say is that I am relieved it is over. With the center of our melodrama out of the country, I daresay we will have some semblance of peace.”
The way most marriages should start out. He had a wife that he loved, and her affections were returned. Life was indeed glorious, and he couldn’t wait for the day their family would grow. His mother and aunt would instantly get over his choice of a bride, and from that moment on, they would quite swiftly take over Emily’s personal space. He was even sure that they would niggle their way into their family home.
Such is the life, though.
“Charles.”
“Yes, my love.”
“Mmm… Say it again, please.”
“Say what, my dear? I love you?”
Emily closed her eyes and smile. “Those were the words. I love you, Charles. May nothing ever come between us.”
“Here, here. Enough of this chatter, you appear as if you are ready to be loved again. I wonder, who exactly is the insatiable one now, dear?”
Epilogue
Blast my head. Here I was doing so well, and I had to stop at Madame Martine’s, Wycliffe thought to himself, climbing off his horse and entering the staging inn. Between the galloping of his horse and the thunder rolling above him, his head throbbed. He should have waited until the monsters in his head ceased their roaring.
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