Baron of Bad: Lords of Scandal Book 5

by Andresen, Tammy

  Baron of Bad

  Lords of Scandal Book 5

  Tammy Andresen

  Copyright © 2020 by Tammy Andresen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Hugs!

  Contents

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Earl of Sin

  About the Author

  Other Titles by Tammy

  Untitled

  Baron of Bad

  Lords of Scandal Book 5

  Tammy Andresen

  Chapter One

  Lady Grace Chase gripped the side of the carriage with increasingly stiff fingers as she eyed the pale-faced blonde woman who sat across from her.

  Lady Cristina Abernath held a long dagger in her thin hand as she stared back at Grace. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

  Grace parted her lips to reply, but hesitated. She wasn’t the most sensible woman in England. In fact, of her three sisters and two cousins whom she’d grown up with, she might be the least intelligent of the bunch. But she knew, instinctually, when it was best to keep quiet. And now was one of those times.

  Not that she always listened to her instincts. A few hours prior, she’d ignored her feelings entirely and stomped out of the carriage after she’d had a rather heated disagreement with the Baron of Baderness.

  He’d accused her of being spoiled and she’d stormed off because of what he’d said, which of course, had allowed her to be kidnapped right in the middle of a busy London Street. If he were here now, she’d smack him, or hug him.

  Maybe both.

  “If one of your family could have just agreed to help me, I wouldn’t have had to take these measures. And then you went and stole my Harry too.”

  This time, words burned on the tip of Grace’s tongue, but she held them in. Accusations like Abernath had chosen to abandon the child in a locked room during a fire or that she’d stolen Grace’s sister, Cordelia, and attempted to take her other sister, Diana, recently. Instead, Grace tightened her hold on the wooden rail that trimmed the interior. It was a lovely carriage. She took in the rich red drapery and the shining mahogany of the interior. What an odd prison in which she was now held.

  “We can still make a deal. Tell me you’re the most rational of the Chase women.”

  “Hardly,” Grace murmured without meaning to. “But I’m willing to talk.” Grace was by no means the most rational, which was likely a good thing. Cordelia was far more sensible, for example. But that wouldn’t help her in this situation. Abernath was completely off her rocker.

  Rather than relaxing, Abernath tensed, narrowing her gaze. “One of your sisters already made that promise. I’m not sure I trust your word.”

  Grace shrugged, feigning indifference. She was being held at knifepoint in a carriage that was barreling down a country road with a scarred giant of a driver. Blood rushed through her ears. But she was the one who shouldn’t be trusted? “I’m sure Diana made you promises. If I’m not mistaken, she likes you.” That wasn’t entirely true. Diana was the oldest daughter of the Earl of Winthorpe and the boldest of the bunch. She’d likened herself to Abernath, saying that she understood the countess’s struggle. Being a strong woman, she’d been trapped into a corner by society.

  Abernath, if Grace understood the story correctly, had cheated on her fiancé, the Duke of Darlington. He’d ended the engagement, but the countess had been pregnant and married the Count of Abernath out of necessity.

  “Likes me?” Lady Abernath lowered the knife a bit. “I’m not foolish enough to believe that.”

  Grace swallowed a lump while fisting up her skirts with her free hand. Perhaps she should have stayed silent. While stolen away, she was at least in one piece and she’d prefer to remain that way. She took a long breath. “Diana takes on the world with a strength and fight I could never imagine. Sometimes it’s a great asset, other times it makes her life infinitely more difficult. I suppose like is the wrong word. Kinship might be the better choice.”

  Abernath slumped back against her seat, the dagger dropping to her knee. “That does sound as though it could be true.” Her face was frighteningly pale. “Can I tell you something?”

  Grace leaned forward. “Of course.” Her breath was coming in short gasps and her eyes widened, but she kept her voice calm.

  Abernath looked out the window. “I’m dying.”

  Her confession sent Grace back in her seat. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Not even Crusher knows.” And she nodded toward the front of the carriage. Grace could only assume he was the frightening driver.

  “Are you shivering?” Grace asked, her gaze narrowing.

  “Never you mind,” Abernath snapped. “Daring owes me for what he did to my life.”

  The woman was vacillating wildly, which made Grace more afraid than any other part of this experience. Her insides churned with fear as she pressed back into her seat. She held out her hands in front of her, making soft shushing noises. “I understand. He hurt you.”

  Abernath nodded. Then, amazingly, she set the blade to the side and began pulling off her gloves. Grace sat silently transfixed wondering what might be happening.

  The moment the first glove came off, Grace had to gulp down her cry. Abernath’s hands were covered in angry welts. “Oh dear,” she whispered, not sure what else to say. She looked into the woman’s eyes, which were glassy and unfocused. “Do they hurt?”

  Slowly Abernath leaned forward, holding herself as she rocked. “Try to understand,” she whispered. “They went away and now they’ve come back.” The woman shook like a leaf. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone, not you and not your sisters, but men won’t help me. Men are the problem not the solution. Even my son—” She stopped. “I’ve never had female friends, but I need someone to aid me now.”

  Grace swallowed. “Men are the problem? Sometimes I think I know what you mean.” She thought back to her fight with Bad. She didn’t understand it at all. First, he wasn’t that handsome. His nose was crooked and his skin was craggy. Well, he was dark and mysterious, and there was something powerful in his every movement and gesture, a confidence that seemed to radiate from within. Like he could handle anything.

  But truly handsome, he wasn’t. And she’d thought that meant she wasn’t really interested in his attention. That was to say, she liked almost all attention but it didn’t need to be his.

  And he’d been attentive, if she were honest. But that was more because his friends had required him to be so. And perhaps that bothered her too. He should be spending time with her because he wanted to. She was attractive. Some even called her beautiful, and she was fun, or she tried to be. But he’d yelled at her today, called her spoiled and selfish and…and she’d give anything to see his hard-dark face right now. Because if he were here, he’d surely make her feel as though everything was all right.
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  And then she could smack him for making her storm off like that.

  “You haven’t had a life like mine. I can see it in the sweet expression on your face. Your father, he was kind to you and I bet he didn’t take advantage…” Her voice trailed off as she pressed her welted hands together. “Sometimes I think they’ve driven me mad. Or perhaps it’s whatever is inside me causing this.” And she held up her hands again.

  Grace licked her dry lips. “You’re not mad. Just…desperate.” The woman was completely insane, but again, it didn’t seem prudent to say so. Then she swallowed. “So, you’re worried you won’t be with us for long. I understand. What do you need my help with?”

  Abernath scooted forward, her eyes wide and wild. “Announce that Daring owns a share of the Den of Sin club. Force him to be public about his dual life. Then he can know some of my pain.”

  Grace took a deep breath. She’d heard of Abernath’s affliction before, though she didn’t know the name. The welts were thought to be caused by a weak constitution, especially when they were accompanied with madness. Was that the reason the woman was so unstable or was it her past? “I understand. He hurt you and now you want to make him pay.” Her heart hammered in her chest. Was there any point in reasoning with a suffering woman? “But I’d like to ask you a question. Besides your personal satisfaction, do you have another goal in mind with your plan? Is there something you hope to accomplish?”

  Abernath gave her a sidelong glance. “I…” She pressed her hands together and then winced, setting them in her lap. “I need money.”

  Grace started to frown but then caught herself. Money? That wasn’t madness, that was greed. While less dangerous it was somehow less satisfying as well. “So, you want me to help you blackmail the Duke for money?”

  Abernath’s face twisted. “I want you to help me provide a future for my son.”

  Grace’s stomach dropped. When Abernath had kidnapped her sister, the house had caught fire. Abernath had fled, leaving an ill-kept child in the house. Her sister and her new husband had adopted the child knowing he could never return to Abernath. Now the crazy woman wanted to provide for him? Grace couldn’t believe it was true.

  * * *

  Benjamin Styles, as he’d been called the first twenty years of his life, rode the horse he’d absconded from a passerby as fast as the tired animal would go, which was not all that fast. The Baron of Baderness—it still amazed him that he’d acquired that title—hadn’t seen the carriage he’d been chasing in almost an hour.

  His stomach clenched in fear. He couldn’t lose Grace now. How could he ever go home and face her family or his friends if he lost the woman he’d been assigned to protect? How could he face himself?

  Leaning out over the animal’s neck, he urged the beast to go faster. He prided himself in being a man of honor. Even in a world often mad with greed and lust, he tried to hold his head above all the riffraff and conduct himself in a manner befitting his title.

  Sure, he ran a gaming hell that fed men’s worst afflictions. First, he believed that was their vice, not his. And second, he amended that as a former street urchin, he was particularly suited to keep the peace in such an establishment. In fact, he liked to think he kept all those men safer for his efforts. If not for his club, they’d likely participate in the same behaviors at another place. And that place would not have a man who’d acquired his particular set of skills.

  Fear pulled at his chest. Though, one other man did possess his skill set, almost exactly. Crusher was the only name by which he’d ever known the man. They’d been fighters together and now they owned rival clubs.

  He’d never liked the man—a big, mean, dumb fellow with a giant chip on his shoulder about his success. And now he’d taken the most beautiful woman in all of London.

  Bad could confess, at least to himself, that the sight of Grace made every muscle in his body tense and his breath stall in his throat. Why did he have to be so attracted to her? It complicated everything.

  But his thoughts focused once again on her rescue. He’d worry about his bloody feelings later. The carriage came into view, rumbling ahead of him as it bounced along the road. The sun glistened off polished wood, the distinctive pattern of carved horses flashing in the light.

  Who used a carriage like that to stage a kidnapping? Not that Bad was complaining. It made tracking them exceptionally easy. Even the one time the carriage had nearly lost him, multiple passersby had been able to point him in the direction of the vehicle.

  In Bad’s opinion, the choice of carriage highlighted both Crusher’s arrogance and stupidity. He’d enjoy making that man suffer when he got Grace back.

  Crusher turned back from his seat and caught sight of Bad. Bad watched, his muscles clenching, as Crusher reached across the seat and then lifted a pistol from next to him on the seat and leaned back to fire.

  The blast filled the air. Bad ducked low over the horse as a ball of lead whizzed by him. He had two choices: fall back again and wait until they surely stopped or surge ahead.

  Just then, Abernath leaned out a carriage window, also holding a pistol in her hand.

  She leveled the gun toward him. Bad pulled the pistol from his own waistcoat and fired at the same moment she did. Burning pain whizzed through his leg. He looked down to see blood oozing down his pants. Still, he also noted the wound was on the fleshy exterior of his thigh.

  Abernath, however, let out a scream and ducked back in the carriage. Not a moment later another scream cut the air. Cold dread washed through him. Grace.

  Chapter Two

  Grace sat in horror as Abernath slid back into the carriage, massive amounts of blood pouring from her shoulder. She thought a scream might have wrenched from her lips but she couldn’t be certain.

  When the first shot had split the air, Abernath yanked a gun from her skirt. The soft woman pleading for help was gone. In her place, Abernath had given Grace a cold, hard stare as she pointed a pistol at her chest, ordering her not to move a muscle.

  Grace had done as she’d been bidden. If she had a goal in this crazy mess, it was to make it out alive.

  Abernath slumped over in the seat, the gun dropping to her side. Grace licked her lips, then turned toward the window, peeking out behind her. Her heart jumped in her throat. Bad rode toward them. Without thought, she wrenched open the door. Evening was falling, could she just jump out of the carriage, unseen?

  But they were moving with amazing speed and fear seized her again. Bad spurred his horse faster and another shot rang out overhead causing her to crouch down from the opening while still able to view the road behind her. Bad veered wildly and then pulled another pistol from his belt. Grace watched as he took aim and fired.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Grace held her breath wondering what came next.

  A large thud shook the carriage and she nearly screamed again as the body of Crusher tumbled onto the dirt road, the carriage screeching and veering wildly.

  Bad swerved around the man then whipped his horse again, moving closer as the carriage continued down the road. Grace crouched in the doorway, uncertain of what to do.

  “Help me,” Abernath moaned behind her. “Please.”

  Frowning, Grace looked back at the woman. For a moment, she wanted to tell the countess she didn’t deserve help. After all, the woman had just pulled a gun on Grace. But then she focused on the other woman. Blood pooled on the seat and dripped to the floor and all thoughts of anger fled. Abernath wouldn’t survive the wound. She turned back into the carriage but stopped again as Bad came abreast of the door. “Don’t move,” he yelled. “I’ve got to stop this carriage.”

  Tears of joy at the sight of him filled her eyes. He’d come for her. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said gripping the door.

  He nodded brusquely as he spurred the animal faster, shooting alongside the other horses.

  Grace turned into the carriage and began ripping strips from her petticoat. Taking a deep breath, she crossed the tiny
interior. “Let me bandage you.”

  Abernath held up a hand. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I won’t hurt you,” Grace answered. “You asked for help.”

  Abernath stared up into Grace’s eyes still holding her arm out between them. “I wish I could be you, do you know that? Beautiful, fresh, clean.” Abernath’s eyes drifted closed. “I should have married Darlington. I did love him. Will you tell him that for me? I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just could never trust that he’d love me in return. I was always trying to keep multiple options open in case he changed his mind.” The woman closed her eyes. “So many mistakes.”

  Grace winced. “Cristina, that’s your name isn’t it?” Cristina had caused the Duke of Darlington a great deal of pain with her cheating ways. “He forgave you those sins a long time ago. It’s the new ones that are troubling him.” Like kidnapping several Chase women, she wanted to add, but kept that thought to herself.

  Cristina grimaced, slumping further down on the seat. “I never could trust a man to take care of me. Not after my father…”

  Grace made no response. The carriage was slowing and she partially stood to wrap up the wounds.

  “I told you, don’t touch me,” Cristina closed her eyes. “I don’t want you to catch whatever it is I have.”

  That made Grace stop. “I can’t let you bleed out.”

  “I want to bleed out,” Cristina whispered. “It will be a quicker, far less painful death. I just need you to help me first.”