Lady of Scandal

by Tina Gabrielle

  The lodge was clearly designed to be a man’s escape to nature, there being very little in the way of luxury. The room was large, with a table at one end for eating, playing cards or drinking, and a bed in the opposite corner. Two windows, one above the table and the other above the bed, were all that allowed the sun to illuminate the large space during the day. There was a night table, two rustic-looking chairs and a fireplace. A porcelain jug resting on the night table caught her eye. If she could reach it, then she could smash the jug and use a jagged piece to cut through her bindings.

  She tugged against her bindings in frustration.

  How could she help Blake if she couldn’t move? With her mouth stuffed with Jacob’s cravat, she couldn’t even scream a warning.

  Her fingernail caught and ripped on the edge of the bedpost. Her hands were bound behind her so she could not turn around. Feeling the decorative wood with a finger, she found a rough edge the woodworker had missed.

  She feverishly began to rub her bindings against the unfinished surface. Her numb fingers wouldn’t always cooperate, and she slipped and gashed her hands several times. But she persisted, and soon beads of perspiration formed on her brow. Her shoulders ached from the strain; her hands were slippery with fresh blood, but her efforts were finally rewarded when the rope grew hot, and it began to unravel bit by bit.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, the bindings loosened until all that secured her to the bedpost were a few strands.

  A movement outside the window above the bed caught her eye. Her hands froze in midmotion.

  It had been a colorful blur, nothing more. And yet, the hair on her nape stood on end. Blake was here, she was certain, and he had had the sense to approach the lodge from the back.

  He had come for her. Despite what had happened between them, he had come. That could mean only one thing: Blake cared for her.

  Despite her fears, her heart sang with delight.

  She immediately set to work, cutting through her remaining bindings. Time was of the essence now.

  The front door swung open, crashing against the wall, and Jacob Hobbs stood in the doorway.

  Victoria stiffened, as guilty as a child with a stolen piece of candy in her pocket.

  Did Jacob suspect she was about to untie herself? Or, worse, did he know of Blake’s arrival?

  She kept her hands, now free, behind her back, and shot him a withering glance.

  Jacob slammed the door shut and strode arrogantly forward until he reached the bed, towering above her. With an angry jerk, he ripped the cravat out of her mouth.

  She licked her dry lips and met his stare. “I never realized how much you are my father’s lackey.”

  Resting a knee on the mattress, Jacob clenched her chin with his fingers. “You should know better than to irritate me right now. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  She tried to shake off his hold. Her palm itched to slap him across the face, but if she succumbed to the urge, then of course he would realize she had freed herself. She would end up tied more tightly the second time. Where would that get her?

  It was obvious he had no notion that Blake was approaching the lodge, and she needed to keep Jacob from finding out.

  “This is insanity,” Victoria said, grinding out the words between her teeth. “What are you going to do with me afterwards?”

  Jacob cocked his head to the side. “Why, make you my mistress, of course. Although I fancied marrying you at one point, Victoria, you must realize that those plans were crushed the moment you rode away to live with Ravenspear. You’re nothing but tarnished goods now. I was furiously jealous at first, but then I came to the conclusion that a year of training how to please a man in bed would be useful for your future profession in my household.”

  “You’re as crazy as my father if you think I’d ever become your mistress,” she hissed.

  “I told you already, don’t provoke me.”

  His face hardened, and his mouth came crashing down upon hers. She fell backward on the bed beneath his heavy weight, her fists pinned behind her. His lips were smothering, and she could not breathe. His heavy weight lay on her chest, preventing her lungs from filling with air.

  Panicked, she wriggled her hands from beneath her back and smacked Jacob hard on the ear.

  Raising his head, he stared at her in amazement.

  “How the hell—”

  Victoria seized the moment of his shock and lunged for the porcelain jug. The porcelain was unexpectedly heavy, and she almost dropped it in her haste. But the blood pounded in her veins, and her fingers clamped down on the smooth handle. Raising the jug high above Jacob’s head, she smashed it down upon his skull with all her might.

  A loud crack rent the air. For a heart-stopping moment, Jacob gazed at her in complete astonishment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed fully on top of her.

  Victoria flew into action, pushing and shoving at his barrel-shaped chest until his body rolled to the side. Scrambling off the bed, she stared at Jacob’s unconscious form for several seconds, not believing what she had done. For a moment she feared she had killed him, but then she saw his back rise and fall and knew that he still breathed.

  Turning away, she ran for the door, her only thought now to warn Blake of the imminent danger. But as her hand touched the doorknob, it turned of its own volition.

  Victoria stepped back just in time before the door opened forcefully, and her father towered above her.

  Hard, cold eyes scanned the room, missing no detail and coming to rest upon Jacob’s still form on the bed.

  “What have you done, Victoria?” Charles asked. “Jacob is to be your savior when all this is over.”

  Charles pulled her to where Jacob lay and forced her to kneel. He turned Jacob over and slapped the younger man’s face.

  “Jacob!” Charles shouted. “Wake up, man.”

  Jacob roused, grasping his head. Gingerly, he touched his hairline and when he brought his fingers away, they were covered in blood.

  “Bitch!” Jacob’s eyes clawed her like talons. He raised an open palm to strike her when Charles stopped him.

  “Now is not the time,” Charles said. “Ravenspear has arrived ahead of schedule.”

  Charles stood and headed for the door. “Bring Victoria, Jacob. Ravenspear must pay for his sins.”

  “No!” Victoria cried. “Listen to yourself, Father. Something has changed within you. You’re not acting rationally.”

  “You’re right,” Charles said. “Ravenspear has destroyed all that I hold dear—my position and my power. Now it’s time for me to take something of his.”

  Jacob rose and wrenched Victoria’s arm painfully. “You’ve tricked me twice so far, but no more.” He pulled the double-barreled pistol from his jacket pocket and aimed it at her head. “Come. It’s time to kill your lover.”

  Jacob dragged her outside, her heels scraping in the patch of dry dirt beyond the door.

  Victoria’s eyes focused on the pistol pressed against her temple, its smooth black surface ominous and terrifying.

  Would Jacob shoot her? Would her own father permit it? They were two desperate men trying to escape the law—one insane and the other his protégé.

  Would she die, or were they bluffing?

  As if sensing her thoughts, Jacob jerked her close and cocked one of the two triggers. “Come out, Ravenspear!” he shouted. “I know you’ve come for Victoria. If you want her back alive, do as I say.”

  Chapter 34

  They stood in the center of a large clearing, the lodge behind them. Victoria’s breath stalled in her throat as they waited for a response, each searching the thick woods ahead.

  A flurry of movement weaved between the trees, and then Blake stepped out of the woods into the clearing, a small pistol in his hand.

  Drops of moisture clung to his damp forehead, and his skin was pulled taut over the ridge of his cheekbones.

  He stood there, tall and angry, and was the most wondrous sight she had
ever witnessed.

  Blake’s eyes shifted to the deadly weapon pressed against Victoria’s temple, and a swift shadow of rage swept across his face.

  “Let her go, Hobbs.”

  Jacob laughed, his chest rumbling against her side. “You’re not in a position to give orders, Ravenspear. Throw down your weapon.”

  “Don’t listen to him!” Victoria screeched. “He will kill you!”

  Jacob twisted her arm, and Victoria cried out.

  “Drop the gun, Blake,” Charles said. “I know how you feel about my daughter.”

  Blake lowered his pistol and threw the weapon ahead of him. It landed with a thud and a puff of dry dirt.

  “Let her go now,” Blake growled.

  Jacob shoved her aside, the gun never wavering in his hand.

  Charles cackled, an eerie sound of a crazed and possessed man. He stepped forward and took the gun from Jacob.

  “I must have the honor,” Charles said as he aimed the gun at Blake’s chest. “You’re truly a fool, Ravenspear. You fell in love with your enemy’s daughter. The mistake will cost you your wretched life.”

  “No!” Acting on instinct, Victoria lunged forward and grasped her father’s outstretched arm. The pistol aimed upward and discharged, jerking her father’s wrist back and simultaneously releasing an ear-deafening explosion.

  Charles shrieked and swung out at her in a black fury. Victoria jumped back to avoid the harsh blow, and then tripped and fell to the ground.

  “There’s another shot!” she screamed, desperate to warn Blake.

  But he must have known, for Blake immediately dove onto Charles. Squealing in alarm, she scrambled away on all fours.

  Clouds of dirt rose in the air as the two men wrestled for control of the gun. Over and over they rolled, fists flying and curses spewing, until Blake finally pinned the older man to the ground and threw aside the gun.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria saw Justin Woodward rush from the woods to tackle Jacob.

  Blake dragged her father to his feet, both men covered with dirt from their struggle. Justin stepped forward and tied Charles’s hands behind his back with a leather belt. Jacob Hobbs once again lay sprawled unconscious. Justin Woodward’s boxing lessons had paid off.

  As Justin led Charles away toward the lodge, Charles jerked and strained against his bindings. Disheveled gray hair stood on end, and his eyes blazed in his dirt-stained face.

  “I had nothing to do with this, Ravenspear!” Charles cried out. “Hobbs put me up to everything. It was his idea to use Victoria to lure you to your death, and his idea to steal from the Crown to pay off our debts.”

  As he was led farther away, Charles became more desperate to save himself, and further elaborated his story of innocence to Justin.

  Ignoring the crazed man’s ranting, Blake ran to Victoria’s side and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?”

  The panic in his voice thrilled her. She blinked, then opened her mouth to answer, but her mouth felt like old paper, dry and dusty.

  Blake didn’t wait for her reply. He turned her head this way and that, looking for signs of obvious injury. Then he held her small hands in his, frowning as he examined the raw marks on her wrists and ugly gashes on her arms.

  Finding her voice, she asked, “You came for me. Why?”

  Intense blue eyes met hers, and her heart soared at the depth of emotion she saw written there.

  “My sweet, sweet, Victoria. I’ve been a fool. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Forgive you?” she asked in astonishment. “Have you forgotten that just yesterday I made it possible for Jacob Hobbs to burn down your warehouse? Or that I rummaged through your private documents and gave sensitive information to my father? Information that hurt you?”

  “It is of no consequence.” Raising her hand to his lips, he placed a fiery kiss in the center of her open palm.

  She shivered. “The threat of death has made you emotional, my lord. I have heard of such things from the wives of soldiers that have returned from the war against Napoleon.”

  He gave her a smile that sent her pulses racing. “No, Victoria. It is the threat of harm to you that has made me come to my senses and beg your forgiveness.”

  “What of the past? I know the truth now…what my father did to you…to your father, mother and sister. It’s unforgivable.”

  “I was wrong to blame you for the ugly deeds of others. My actions have been intolerable, forcing you to come live with me out of wedlock. I wanted to punish your father with the scandal, but when you walked into my life that fateful day at Almack’s, I was already falling under your spell. And when I got to know you, to realize your intelligence and fierce spirit, I was lost. My pride prevented me from seeing the truth. You are my salvation, the only person that can make me forget the past and live for the future. You have saved my soul, and the thought of you not in my life terrifies me.”

  Dropping to his knees, Blake looked into her eyes. “I love you, Victoria Ashton. I need you by my side. Will you have me as your husband?”

  Shocked and afraid to breathe lest the dream evaporate, she stood still. “What of my father?”

  “I have found someone more important to focus my energies on. He is your father, your flesh and blood, and because of that fact I no longer wish him harm. I admit, I may not lovingly embrace him as a father-in-law, but I will not go out of my way to cause him injury. As far as I’m concerned, I will have the best part of him with me.”

  A cry of joy broke from her lips. She threw herself at him. Strong arms immediately enveloped her, and a warm glow flowed through her. “Oh, Blake. I thought I had lost you forever.”

  He murmured sweet words against her neck. Tears slowly found their way down her cheeks. Blake gingerly brushed each tear away as if they were precious diamonds. Rising to his feet, he led her toward the front of the lodge where Justin and her father were waiting.

  The rumble of hoofbeats on the dry earth drew their attention to the road. Four armed horsemen, wearing the uniform of the private police of the Regent, rode into the clearing. Another single rider, a tall, older man who sat uncomfortably in the saddle, accompanied the guard. Whoever he was, he clearly was not one of the police.

  The captain jumped down from his horse and strode forward. “Junior Lord Commissioner Ashton, you are wanted for questioning by the Crown.”

  The older man, whose brows were heavily creased, dismounted and held off the captain with a wave of his hand.

  “It’s good to see you again, Lord Jenkinson,” Blake said. “I trust your plans remain intact.”

  “Aye, Lord Ravenspear. I will abide by our agreement.” The First Lord of the Treasury spoke to Blake, and then turned his attention to Charles.

  “Where’s the money, Commissioner Ashton?” Jenkinson asked.

  Charles’s face paled. “For obvious reasons, Lord Jenkinson, we were not planning on returning to London. You will find a bag in my coach.”

  With a wave of Jenkinson’s hand, the captain of the guard was sent to search Charles’s private coach. Within minutes, the man returned with a heavy bag.

  “You are fortunate indeed to have Lord Ravenspear as an ally, Charles,” Jenkinson said. “He has saved your neck from the noose. You must leave England, of course, but exile is a small price to pay for treason. The captain here will escort you to a ship. I trust you will join your wife in France.”

  Charles looked at Blake. He was clearly stunned. “After all that has passed, why did you help me?”

  Blake’s expression darkened with an unreadable emotion. “Because I have found something else to live for that’s more important than avenging you.”

  Charles’s hand dropped, and he looked at his daughter. “I’m sorry, Victoria. I never thought it would come to this.”

  Victoria nodded, unable to speak with the lump in her throat. Despite all that had happened, he was still her parent, and knowing he was off to France never to return to England was shocking.


  The remaining officers escorted Charles to his coach. There was a moment of hesitation as to what to do with Jacob Hobbs, who was now rousing. It was decided that they would transport him back to London, where he could then be interrogated to determine the extent of his knowledge regarding Charles’s illicit activity and prosecuted.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Lord Ravenspear,” Jenkinson said. “The missing money will be returned, with none the wiser and the integrity of the nation’s Treasury preserved. The Regent will be most appreciative that a scandal was avoided.”

  Blake stood beside Victoria as the authorities escorted Charles’s coach away.

  Victoria waited until Justin disappeared in the woods to gather their own mounts before turning to Blake.

  “Was Lord Jenkinson serious about your aiding my father?”

  Blake took her hands in his, his eyes full of promise. “As serious as I am about marrying you, Victoria. Life is too short to spend it seeking vengeance. I’d much rather spend it loving you. I’m sorry your father is forced to leave England. Even though it will devastate me if you choose to follow him to France, I shall understand. I won’t force you to stay with me ever again.”

  Tears found their way down her cheeks. She was struck by the thought of how much Blake was sacrificing by giving up his near-lifelong crusade of avenging his family. He had the opportunity to let her father hang for treason but had saved his life instead. Charles Ashton’s insane greed had almost destroyed any chance of happiness she could have had with Blake. Her father was alive and had escaped prison. Victoria had no doubt he would flourish in France, and that she could see her parent again if she chose. God had given them all a second chance.

  Reaching up, she caressed the stubble on his cheek. “I love you, Blake Mallorey. I have always loved you since I was a clumsy girl of ten.”

  He cradled her in his strong arms. “Does that mean you will allow me to make an honest woman out of you?”

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered breathlessly against his neck. “Let’s really give the ton something to talk about.”