by Beers, Laura
“Do you know where they were heading?”
Emma nodded. “To Gretna Green.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because we devised codes in case she was in distress, and she moved to adjust a pin in her hair,” Emma shared.
Roswell frowned. “What did that mean?”
“If she adjusted a hair pin, it meant that Lord Worthington intended to take her to Gretna Green.”
“Are you sure?” Roswell asked. “Because I need you to be absolutely sure.”
“I am.”
Charles walked into the room with a solemn look on his face. “Any word on Ellie?”
He shook his head. “I just ordered Thorne to send a man down to hire any available Bow Street Runners to help me with retrieving Ellie.”
“Do you want my company?” Charles asked.
“It could be dangerous,” Roswell warned.
Charles smirked. “Now you’ve just sold me on the venture.”
There was a lull in the conversation, and Roswell took that moment to gesture towards Lady Worthington, who had followed him into the drawing room with his mother to hear Emma’s story. “Allow me to introduce you all to Lady Worthington.”
Emma gasped. “You are safe!”
“I don’t believe I was ever truly in any danger,” Lady Worthington revealed, coming to stand next to his mother. “I’m beginning to suspect Lord Worthington used this as a ploy to lure Ellie out of the townhouse.”
“I believe you are right,” Roswell agreed.
A young maid walked hesitantly into the room and met his gaze. “You requested to see me, my lord?”
“I did.” He rose and approached her. “Did you deliver a letter to Miss Bentley this morning?”
She nodded weakly. “Yes.”
“Where did you get the letter?”
“From downstairs,” she replied softly. “It came in the post.”
Roswell met her gaze, holding it for a long moment. “You are lying to me, and I don’t have time for this nonsense,” he barked. “You couldn’t have gotten the letter from downstairs, because I ordered Thorne to give me any letters that came for Miss Bentley.”
The maid’s eyes grew wide. “I… uh…”
“If you don’t tell me the truth, then I will have the constable arrest you as an accomplice in Miss Bentley’s abduction.”
Tears came to the maid’s eyes as she rushed to say, “I went to run errands yesterday and Lord Worthington’s footman approached me,” she shared. “He offered me a shilling to deliver the letter to Miss Bentley this morning.”
“Do you know what the contents were?”
She bobbed her head. “It was a love letter.”
“A love letter?” Roswell repeated.
“Yes, Lord Worthington was trying to convince Miss Bentley to run away to Gretna Green with him,” she said.
“Is that what the footman told you?”
“It was.”
Roswell huffed. “You were deceived,” he told her. “You were tricked into delivering a message to Miss Bentley so Lord Worthington could abduct her.”
The maid gasped. “No!”
He took a commanding step towards her. “If it were up to me, I would dismiss you on the spot, but you have been acting as Miss Bentley’s lady’s maid,” he said. “I will let her do with you as she sees fit.”
Tears streamed down the maid’s face. “I would never want harm to befall Miss Bentley,” she cried. “You must know that.”
“Leave us,” Roswell barked, turning back towards the group.
Charles watched him closely as he asked, “Are you sure you are up to this?”
“You do not need to concern yourself with me,” he said firmly. “I will do whatever it takes to get Ellie back.”
“That is what I am afraid of,” Charles replied.
“What would you have me do?” Roswell asked. “Sit around my townhouse and do nothing while Lord Worthington has absconded with my fiancée?”
“I never said that.”
“It is what you implied.”
Charles shook his head. “I just urge you to use restraint when we find them.”
“I’m afraid I can’t promise that.” Roswell turned his attention towards Lady Worthington. “We will bring Ellie back to you.”
Lady Worthington gave him a weak smile. “Please do,” she said. “Lord Worthington is a terrible excuse for a human being.”
Roswell nodded his acknowledgement before departing from the drawing room. Charles’ voice followed him as he walked towards his study. “Where are you going?”
“I am retrieving my dueling pistols,” Roswell replied.
Charles hurried to catch up to him. “It might be best if we formulate a plan before you go half-cocked.”
“My plan is simple,” Roswell stated, glancing over at him. “I will ride fast and hard until we find Ellie. Then, I will not rest until she is safely back in my arms.”
“That does sound like a brilliant plan, but I can think of many ways it could go wrong.”
“Then you are imagining it wrong.”
“I don’t believe I am.”
“You will just need to trust me.”
The door opened, and Lord Worthington shoved Ellie into the darkened room. He closed and locked the door behind them, then walked over to the candle on the table and lit it.
Ellie’s eyes scanned the small room. There was a bed along the back wall, a writing desk near it, and a droopy chair that didn’t look like it could even support her weight. It was a far cry from the conditions she was used to.
Lord Worthington huffed. “I must question if this is truly their best room,” he muttered under his breath. “It isn’t even fit for my dog.”
Ellie wrapped her arms around her waist as she watched Lord Worthington sit down on the lumpy bed.
He gave her an amused look. “Your virtue is safe from me tonight, if that is what you are worried about.”
“How can I be certain of that?”
“It matters not, because I will be your husband in a few days, and I will just take whatever I want, whenever I want,” he said with a smug smile on his lips.
She tilted her chin defiantly. “I will not marry you.”
“It is quite irksome that you are still in denial,” he grumbled.
“Perhaps you will finally get it through your hard head.”
Lord Worthington gave her an exasperated look. “I am tired of fighting with you,” he said. “You are more than welcome to come sleep on the bed with me.”
“I think not,” she declared.
“Then sleep on the floor,” he remarked with a wave of his hand. “Frankly, I care not where you sleep.”
“May I have a blanket to rest my head on?” she asked.
He shook his head. “There is only one, and I require the use of it.”
Ellie debated about removing the muff pistol from her reticule, but she knew this was not the time to do so. She would wait until he fell asleep, and then she would sneak out. With any luck, she could convince the innkeeper to help her.
Lord Worthington laid his head on the pillow. “I hope you have no grand ideas of escaping, because I have two footmen standing guard in the hall.”
Drats.
Ellie walked over to the chair and dragged it towards the opposite side of the room. She sat down, and it groaned under her weight. She rested her head against the wall and hoped she would be able to fall asleep.
A knock came at the door, and Lord Worthington sat up. He pointed his finger at her. “You will remain where you are, if you know what is good for you.”
He walked over to the door and opened it a crack. After a moment, he opened it wide, and a young serving girl walked into the room with a tray of food. She put the tray on the writing desk. “Will there be anything else?”
Ellie spoke up. “Do you by chance have any chocolate?”
“We do not,” the serving girl replied, “but I could bring up some tea.”<
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“That would be nice,” Ellie replied.
The serving girl tipped her head. “I will be just a moment.”
After she departed, Lord Worthington locked the door and returned to the bed. He picked up a piece of cheese and tossed it into his mouth. He was still chewing when he asked, “Aren’t you hungry?”
As if on cue, her stomach growled. “I am.”
“Don’t be shy,” he encouraged. “Come help yourself.”
Ellie rose from the chair and slowly walked over to the bed. She watched in disgust as Lord Worthington chewed with his mouth open, allowing pieces of food to escape.
As she reached for a piece of meat, he pulled the tray away and asked, “What do you say to me?”
“Pardon?”
“I want you to express gratitude to me for providing you this meal.”
“Never.”
He shrugged. “Then starve,” he said. “Frankly, it will be much easier to deal with you if you are weak from want of food.”
“You would deny me food?” she asked in disbelief.
The same blasted smirk came to his lips. “You are nothing without me,” he said. “I don’t want you to forget that.”
Ellie spun on her heel and returned to her chair in the corner, refusing to dignify his comment with a response. She didn’t think she could last a night in the same room with Lord Worthington.
A knock came at the door, and Lord Worthington pushed the tray away from him. “The same rule applies to tea, you know. If you behave, I will let you have one cup.”
Another knock came at the door, this time more urgent.
“I’m coming,” Lord Worthington growled as he rose.
He unlatched the door, and it was thrown open as Roswell and Charles stormed into the room, their pistols drawn.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Worthington demanded.
Roswell’s eyes scanned the room until they met Ellie’s, and she could see the relief etched on his face. “I am here to collect my betrothed,” he announced.
“She has agreed to marry me,” Lord Worthington said, putting his hand on the butt of his own pistol.
“I will never marry you!” Ellie exclaimed, stepping forward.
Roswell smiled. “Well, there you have it, Worthington,” he said. “It would appear the young lady does not wish to marry you.”
“But she must,” Lord Worthington replied. “If she doesn’t, then she is ruined. Her reputation would never recover.”
“Not if I marry her,” Roswell said. “No one will dare to disparage my wife.”
“What will the ton think when they learn that your fiancée ran off with me?” Lord Worthington asked. “No sensible man would want Miss Bentley then.”
“You are wrong,” Roswell stated. “I will always want Ellie.”
Lord Worthington drew the pistol from the waistband of his trousers and pointed it at Ellie. “If I can’t have Miss Bentley, then neither will you.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Worthington,” Roswell warned. “You can still walk out of this room with your life.”
Lord Worthington turned his attention towards Roswell and Charles. “And why should I listen to you?”
Ellie decided the appropriate moment had finally arrived. She pulled the muff pistol out of her reticule, aimed it at Lord Worthington’s foot, and fired.
Lord Worthington howled as he dropped his pistol to the floor and reached for his foot. “You shot me, you stupid chit!” he yelled.
Roswell ran up to Ellie and put his arm around her. “Let’s get you out of here,” he said.
She let him lead her out of the room. Lord Worthington’s two footmen were unconscious on the ground, with three muscular men in red waistcoats standing guard over them.
“Did you do this?” she asked.
Roswell smirked. “I may have had some help from the Bow Street Runners,” he replied.
They exited the inn and he ushered her into an awaiting coach, climbing in to sit across from her. His eyes roamed her face earnestly. “How are you faring?”
“Much better, now that you’ve come to save me.” She smiled. “What took you so long?”
Roswell chuckled. “We were forced to stop and check each inn along the route as we searched for you.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” she admitted.
“As am I,” he replied. “You should know that your mother is safe and waiting for you at the townhouse.”
“She is?”
He nodded. “I personally went and retrieved her this morning.”
“But Lord Worthington said—”
“Lord Worthington was lying to you,” Roswell said. “He just wanted to force you into marriage.”
“I should have known,” Ellie muttered. “I’m glad I shot him.”
“As am I, though I wish I had been the one to have the privilege.”
“Lord Worthington was foolish enough to not consider me a threat.”
“That he was.” Roswell moved to sit next to her. “I did a lot of thinking on the ride over here, and I have come to a conclusion.”
“Which is?”
He reached for her hand. “I wish to change the terms of our agreement.”
“In what way?”
A smile came to his lips. “I want a real engagement,” he said, “and after the banns are posted, I want to marry you in front of our friends and family.”
“You do?” she asked.
He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You were wrong about something,” he murmured.
“Which is?”
“You are a thief,” he said. “You stole my heart right out from under me.”
Ellie laughed, feeling freer than she had in ages. “Do you truly mean it?”
“I do,” Roswell replied. “I fought my growing attraction towards you, but I soon found there was no point in doing so.”
“Why was that?”
“Because no matter what I did, I realized that you make me a better man,” he said. “A man who is in no way worthy of you.”
“I disagree,” she replied. “I quite love that man, and I won’t have you making disparaging comments about him.”
Leaning closer, he asked quietly, “Does this mean you will make me the happiest of men and marry me?”
She pretended to think about it for a moment. “I suppose it does.”
Roswell’s eyes darted towards her lips, and she willed her breath to come evenly instead of the shallow, uneven breaths she felt.
“I’m going to kiss you now, Ellie,” he said.
She watched as he leaned closer to her, then closed her eyes as she felt his lips brush against hers. His arms slid around her, drawing her closer. As he deepened the kiss, she found herself returning it with an equal ardor.
Ellie broke the kiss but didn’t move away. “This doesn’t quite seem real to me,” she whispered against his lips.
They curved into a smile. “Perhaps we just need more practice.”
“That might be for the best.”
Charles’ voice came from outside. “Has Ellie agreed to marry you yet?”
“She has,” Roswell replied.
“Can we go home now?”
Roswell met her gaze and said, “Let’s go home, Ellie.”
Home.
She smiled at the man she loved, the one she never wanted to live without. “That sounds wonderful,” she said, her voice soft, yet somehow full of promise.
Epilogue
Roswell sat in the study, sorting through piles of correspondence on his desk, knowing it would take days, if not weeks, before he would succeed in catching up. But spending their honeymoon at his Scottish estate with Ellie had been worth every moment. It was a time he would always look back on with much fondness, for in that time he’d fallen even more deeply in love with his wife.
His wife.
That was something that he didn’t think he would ever tire of hearing. How he adored Ellie. She had quickly beco
me the most important thing in his life, and he vowed to never take her for granted. She had brought laughter back to him, something he once thought impossible.
If she hadn’t come into his life when she had, he didn’t know what would have become of him. He likely would have turned even more bitter than he already was. But she had showed him a different way to live, a way filled with love.
A knock came at the door, drawing his attention.
Thorne stood there. “Mr. Manley is here to see you, milord.”
“Will you send him in?”
With a tip of his head, Thorne departed.
Roswell leaned back in his chair and waited to see what his solicitor wanted. He had been receiving weekly updates on Ellie’s case, but they were still waiting for the judge to make a ruling.
Mr. Manley walked into the room with a smile. “The judge ruled in Lady Bideford’s favor,” he announced.
Roswell perked up in his seat. “He did?”
“As you may recall, I submitted Lady Bideford’s testimony about Lord Worthington’s abduction of her for her dowry to the church probate court,” Mr. Manley shared.
“I do.”
Mr. Manley sat in a chair in front of the desk. “The judge found that rather distasteful and saw it as proof of Lord Worthington’s despicable character. He ignored the ledgers that supposedly claimed Lord Worthington didn’t have the funds to honor his predecessor’s will.”
Roswell shook his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised at Lord Worthington’s deceit.”
“Furthermore, Lord Worthington tried to prove that he inherited a nearly bankrupted estate,” his solicitor shared.
“I assume that wasn’t true.”
“Of course not,” Mr. Manley replied. “It was just a desperate ploy to cheat Lady Bideford and Lady Worthington out of their inheritance.”
“This is precisely the outcome I had been hoping for.”
“As was I, especially since the case never went to trial,” Mr. Manley said. “Mr. Clawson fought hard for a summary judgement.”
“I am glad that he was successful; it kept my wife from having to testify in court.”
“That was the intent, my lord.”