by Lavinia Kent
Was being with Stephan more important than her fear of love?
She had more questions than answers.
And what did any of it matter? She pulled hard on the chains that held her. Temple would be back soon and then…
She had to get away. She had faith that Stephan would rescue her, but would it be too late?
If she was ruined—she refused to think of what that would actually entail—could she go to Stephan even if he still wanted her? And would he still want her? What man would?
Was it possible to be more miserable than she already felt?
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Her dreams were over before they had even begun.
Another tear.
And then her head snapped up.
This is not who she was. Stephan wanted her because of her sense of life and vitality, not because she was a passive child who would give up at the first challenge.
She was a Danser, and Dansers were never to be defeated.
If only there was something she could do. She pulled again on the chain, listening to the clank of the lock.
Pirates. Playing pirates. Her brothers had not only tied her with ropes, once they’d tried with old chains from the attic and on several occasions they’d locked her in various empty rooms about the house. Her long-ago lessons in escape came back to her. She’d taken full advantage of the magicians and circus performers who had visited her father’s house.
Could she do it?
She wasn’t even clear if she could reach the lock on the cuffs, much less pick the lock.
No, she would not think that way.
She could do it. She could.
Pushing up on her toes as far as she could, while at the same time pulling on the chain with her fingers, she managed to bring herself into position, her fingers playing with the spot where the lock clicked closed.
Now she just needed something to slip in and turn.
Her eyes fell on the evil pinchers. How could she get them? They weren’t that far away, but with her hands locked above her head it might as well have been a mile.
Her eyes swept the room and then came back to the pinchers. If she couldn’t get to them, there was nothing else that could possibly be within reach. She looked down at her feet, then, using one foot upon the other, pushed slippers off. Bare toes would be best.
Standing on one leg she did her best to reach out with the other.
Her toes brushed the edge of the bed, but she could get no closer.
Hell. Blast. Damn.
A dozen of her brother’s curses filled her mind.
Bloody hell.
Witches’ tits.
Blue bollocks.
Blasted, fucking shit.
She tried to hop closer. No.
She tried again.
Could she swing? She had tried the ballroom trapeze on several occasions. It might be possible.
Tiptoeing as far back as possible, she jumped back and then let herself swing forward, pumping her legs with her.
Almost.
The pain in her shoulder sockets was worse than anything that had happened this night, although not worse than that which she feared might happen. Her eyes watered, but she pushed back, swinging harder.
She could do this. She would do this.
Her foot made it to the top of the bed. Her shoulders and wrists screamed.
Once more. There. There. Her toes touched.
She had them.
She pushed the pinchers farther away, farther across the bed.
Bloody hell. Her head fell forward, her feet catching her weight, bringing some relief to her arms.
What now?
Even as tears spilled down her cheeks, she refused to be conquered. If only she could find the quiet within herself, find that spot of peace that Stephan had brought her to. She could do this.
She shook her head, trying to clear it, and watched in disbelief as one of her hairpins flew across the room.
She was an idiot.
Straining upward once again, she managed to grab hold of the end of another pin and pull it free. Her hands were damp with effort and she almost dropped it, but by the grace of God did not.
To say it was easy after that would have been a gross overstatement, but she did manage.
A few moments later, wrists bleeding, fingers cramping, she was free.
A moment to slip her feet back into her slippers, then pulling up her bodice and grabbing her cloak from where it lay fallen, she made for the door.
She slipped through the door, whispering thanks that Temple had not locked it, and crept into the hallway. Which way to go? Left led to the great stair, which she had come up each time, but surely there must be a back stair, another way down. But did she wish to risk meandering about without a clear destination in mind? No, she would just be careful. Even if Temple saw her, what could he do once there were others about?
Stephan. She could go back to Stephan.
—
“What do you mean you haven’t seen her? She must have left the room in the last hour or so. You claim to keep an eye on everything here and yet you missed her?” Duldon knew he was close to shouting and did not care, not in the least.
“I admit that it sounds strange. I miss very little of what happens here. I will ask the footmen again and any of my girls who were not occupied. Someone will have seen her. Although perhaps she did not wish to be seen and crept out? Are you sure she was wearing a deep green colored cloak?” Ruby was clearly trying to keep her temper. She smiled gently and patted his arm.
He fought the urge to shake her off. Where was Bliss? “Do you really think she attempted to brave the streets of London at this hour? What time is it, by the way?” He stared out into the oppressive dark of the night.
Ruby sighed. “It is about five, I believe. The dawn light will just be slipping over the buildings and maids will start to light fires for those who never feel warm enough or dry enough.”
“And she’s been out there at least an hour. Anything can happen in an hour.”
“And nothing can also happen. Do not worry until we know more.” Ruby spoke with supreme rationality, if only he were in the mood to hear it.
He wasn’t sure if she were trying to calm him, or truly believed her words. “I still don’t understand how she can simply vanish.”
“Perhaps she snuck into another room to sleep until dawn.”
He glared at her.
“I have known it to happen. Things do not always make sense.” Ruby walked back across the parlor and sat. “Now, I suggest that you head home and I will let you know what happens. You can send Simms to me as you pass and I will be sure that everyone is instructed properly. We will find your lost girl.”
She was probably right, but deep in his soul something did not feel right. Bliss might have slipped from him, determined to find her own space to think, but she was not a fool. She would have found Ruby and asked for assistance getting home. She would never have run out onto strange streets alone. He tapped his fingers in a rapid tattoo and considered.
Where could she have gone?
“No,” he replied. “I will stay and I will go from room to room myself and peer into every corner. Don’t give me that glare. It will not do any good. I will not leave until I find Bliss, even if I have to tear this place apart.”
—
Bliss pushed the door open and stopped. The room was empty. Stephan was gone.
There was a temptation to just crawl into the unmade bed, to hide under the covers, to surround herself in his scent.
She took a step forward. Halted.
There were footsteps coming up the stairs. Had Temple seen her come from this room? Would he guess she had returned here? Could he be returning so quickly?
Although truly she had no idea how long she had spent trying to escape, time had both stopped and flashed by in the same second.
Hide. She had to hide. He’d seen her come out of this room. It would be the first plac
e he looked.
She darted into the hallway, stopped at the next entry.
She placed a hand on the door handle, but hesitated. Could entering one of these rooms just place her in greater trouble?
There must be someplace else. The curtains at the end of the hall. It seemed a child’s hiding place—she could remember hiding there in a long-ago game of sardines. It had not been a good choice then. Would it be better now?
The footsteps drew closer, and without another thought she darted behind the curtain, flattening her back against the wall and holding her breath.
The footsteps paused.
Why had she chosen such a foolish spot?
And then they continued on.
Deep breath. Deep breath.
Were they stopping outside the door she had fled? Was it Temple returning? The urge to peek out from behind the curtain grew strong, but she fought it down.
She waited. Silence.
Had the footsteps entered a room or did they linger in the hall, waiting?
She began to count, slowly, carefully.
When she reached one hundred, she debated—counted another hundred.
Still no noise. If he was still there waiting this could go on forever and if she waited there was an ever-growing chance that Temple would realize she was gone and come searching for her.
Time to be brave.
Taking a deep breath, she darted out from the curtain and ran for the stairs, her slippers sliding on the heavy carpet. There was the door. A few more yards and she’d be free. The street beckoned.
The old porter stepped forward, but she ran past him, pushing at the heavy door, until it burst open.
And she was free.
She ran ten yards, the cobblestones cold beneath her soles, and then she stopped.
Dark lay all around; the quiet mystery of the city lay ahead, only the faintest edge of dawn light was beginning to seep above the roofs of the buildings.
A moment of panic. Had she fled into more danger?
The pound of feet on the ground behind her.
A grand carriage rumbled past. And stopped.
She prepared to flee again, although where she knew not.
A footman jumped down and pulled the door open, and a voice she knew—knew only too well—echoed out.
“What on earth are you doing here, girl? Get in this carriage, now. Now, I say, girl.” Lady Perse’s voice cut through the night.
Chapter Twenty-six
If Duldon had blinked he would have missed her, not that it was easy to miss a tornado. Bliss sprinted down the stairs with the speed of a racehorse and almost ran straight through Simms as he moved to open the door for her.
And then she was gone.
He did blink then. Had that really been her? And if so where had she come from? It had been more than an hour since he discovered her missing from his room.
One more blink and then he was after her. He yanked open the door and hurried down the stairs, the deep emerald of her cloak a blur in the darkness. The sound of coach wheels rumbled past and then they stopped.
He started to run. Did Bliss have any idea of the danger she might be wandering into?
Heart pumping, he yelled after her, but it was too late.
She was in the coach and gone.
He stood in the street staring in disbelief. He knew that coach. He knew that voice.
What was his aunt doing riding about at this hour of the morning and why had she taken Bliss?
He turned back to Madame Rouge’s. He would collect his hat and coat and then make his way back home. It would be pointless to try to track Bliss now. He saw another gentleman exiting the house, visibly swaying on his feet. The dark coat and harried expression made little impression on him as he hurried by, his mind filled with his plans for the morning—and for Bliss.
“So what’d you do witsh her?” a slurred voice asked.
Duldon turned his head. Lord Temple. What a bother. The man never had been able to hold his liquor or his temper. He seemed to spend his life wanting to be somebody he was not. Duldon did not have the time to spend on this now.
He started to turn away. “Pardon me.”
Instead Temple grabbed his arm, his fingers mashing the heavy fabric. “You always were too good to sharesh. Even in school you got the besht.” The slur had grown worse.
“Forgive me, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have business I must attend to.”
“You know damn wellsh know what I am talking about. Only one type of business a man takes care of at Madame Rouge’s. And with Blissh. I always liked Blissh. Wasn’t nice of you to tell me to stay away. Well-named our Blissh is. And now thish.”
A dull roar began behind Duldon’s eyes. “I don’t know what you are referring to.”
“No use pretending. It’s not like she has a reputation to protect. She is a Dansher.”
Duldon turned and stared down at the younger man. “I suggest you forget anything you think you’ve seen this night. You are quite mistaken.”
Temple laughed, leaning back against the balustrade. “I don’t think so. It’sh not like it’sh the first time I’ve seen her here—only the first time I’ve shampled the wares. She does like to lead a man on a chase, does Blissh. She almost makes a man believe she doesn’t want it but we know better, don’t we?”
The roar became an inferno. “Where is Bliss?” Temple could not mean what Duldon feared that he did, could he? Had he brought Bliss into far more danger than he realized? That had been Bliss he’d seen running out, hadn’t it? The fire in his brain warred with the ice that formed in his belly.
“Don’t you know? You mean she’sh escaped us both? And just when the fun was beginning.” Temple gave way to a nervous giggle.
“What have you done to Bliss? Have you hurt her?”
Temple’s giggles continued.
Duldon’s fist connected with Temple’s nose, stopping the laughter.
Temple staggered back, blood pouring from his nose, a look of amazement staining his face before pain took over. “What did you do that for? It’s not like she’s a virgin.”
The other fist came up, another blow—and then another. Temple tried to throw one punch and then slid to his knees. “You alwaysh were a bastard, Duldon.”
“I don’t think I am the bastard in this situation and from what I know of your mother, you’ve always been one. Now tell me what you’ve done to Bliss. Where is she?” He should have gotten answers from Temple before he’d let his fists fly, but clear thought had not been his first response. “What have you done?”
“Don’t you know?” Temple slid farther down until he sat in a broken pile on the stairs, leaning back against the wall. “Thish really is too funny.”
Duldon failed to see any humor in the situation and he doubted that Temple would either once he sobered up enough to feel the pain and to realize that his nose would never be straight again. “If I did know I would not be asking you. What did you do to her?”
“Not as much as I’d have liked to. The bloody chit left before I’d done little more than have a bit of a feel. I didn’t even get to try the toys on her. I should have done that before anything else. It’s not fair. Why did she leave before I got to play? I’ve been waiting for a chance to play. Did you take her?” He shook his head. “No, you’d have her if you’d taken her and not be asking me. It’sh all because the bloody maid didn’t bring the brandy. Why didn’t she bring the brandy? Do you think I should punish her? Is the maid pretty, do you know? It’sh so unfair.”
Duldon didn’t know whether to give the man a further beating or to simply pick him up and toss him in the gutter. He doubted either would have much effect.
This whole night was turning into a bloody nightmare. How could something that had begun so well end so badly?
And what had happened? Had Lady Perse truly just driven by in the small hours of the morning and whisked Bliss away in her carriage? It barely bore thinking about.
He stared d
own at Temple for one more moment, then with a determined step turned to head for home.
Bliss had agreed to marry him. He would concentrate on that.
If Bliss was with his aunt, with Lady Perse, and despite the seeming impossibility of the situation he was sure that she was, she was certainly safe—although he wasn’t sure about himself if Bliss should reveal the whole story. He feared very little in the world, but Lady Perse just might be the exception.
—
Lady Perse stared out the window for a moment as the carriage began to pull away, her expression arrested, her white hair nearly glowing in the lamplight. “Now, isn’t this interesting. Not at all what I thought. Duldon and you, both at Madame Rouge’s. Could it really be? I know Ruby hinted that she needed to talk to me, but this I never imagined,” she murmured quietly, clearly expecting no answer. And how did she know about Ruby?
Bliss huddled back on the seat, wishing that she could disappear into the upholstery. She could only hope that no one had seen her flee into the night. Could she have escaped that, only to face ruin anyway? Not that it mattered once Temple talked—although what could he say? He was not exactly going to announce what he’d been doing this evening.
Or would he? He wouldn’t speak of it publicly, but whispers had a way of spreading and growing. And men had a habit of bragging.
All she could do was hope and pray—and try not to despair.
“Are you going to explain yourself, girl?” Lady Perse’s voice filled the carriage.
Bliss wanted to say no. Every piece of her wished to sit up straight and stare back at Lady Perse. It would feel so good to give that simple no and then pretend it ended there. But she was smarter than that; she might wish she was not, but deep down she knew the time had come to give a reckoning. She had played and been caught. If it meant the end of her dreams she would somehow survive. “Does it really need an explanation? Is there anything I can say that will make this situation better?”
Lady Perse did not answer for a moment and Bliss could feel the consideration in her gaze. “There is always something that can be said.”