Scandal of the Season

by Christie Kelley

  And Victoria would have absolutely nothing. She would be out on the streets. She might even be forced into working at a brothel. Only this time, she doubted she would be cleaning the rooms.

  With steeled determination, Victoria sat up and wiped her tears. She refused to become a prostitute. There had to be a way to fix this problem.

  The first thing to do was speak with Lady Whitely. Perhaps she could convince Somerton not to take the child. But seeing his reaction today, she doubted even Lady Whitely could change his mind.

  Still, she had to try, even if it meant admitting to Lady Whitely that she had slept with Somerton.

  Anthony stormed out of Victoria’s home. He’d never felt so betrayed in his life. With fat snowflakes falling from the sky, he looked around and realized there was only one person he could talk to, the one person who had warned him against her in the first place. He should have listened to his mother for once.

  He opened the door to the brothel and stepped into a world that didn’t sleep. At eleven in the morning, there were already two men sitting in the parlor leering at the women. Without a word, he trudged up the steps to his mother’s room.

  Knocking softly, he waited for permission to enter. During the evening hours, he could safely walk into her room unless stopped by one of the girls. But not during the morning when a client might still be inside.

  “Come in,” she said in a testy tone.

  He walked in to find her already dressed for the day. “Sounds as if you are having a wonderful day, too.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That blasted girl Maryanne has agreed to become Sourwood’s mistress.”

  “Is that all?” He walked to the window and stared down at the street. “I just discovered I have a daughter.”

  His mother had the nerve to laugh. “Only one?”

  He turned his head and leveled her with an icy glare. “You know I have always been careful. You taught me that.”

  “True, but there were a few years that we didn’t speak to each other. Can I assume you might have been less cautious then?”

  “Only once.” And the past week. For all he knew Victoria could be carrying his child right now. He picked up a glass from the table and hurled it at the fireplace. “Dammit!”

  “Ah yes, that first time with the girl on the street. Surely, that can’t be the one. You didn’t even know her name.”

  He remained stony silent.

  “She told you, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, Sophie knew the girl’s name.” He returned his gaze to the window and watched a black coach pull up in front of Victoria’s home.

  “And as a matter of fact, you know of her, too.”

  She made a face at him. “I do? The only women I know who have children out of marriage are the girls here.” She wandered the room with a frown. “I hadn’t thought that maybe one of them had been with you before.”

  “It wasn’t one of your girls.” He banged his fist against the window frame. “It was Miss Seaton.”

  “Victoria?” she whispered. “But that’s not possible.”

  He spun around with his hands on his hips. “Indeed? Then why does the oldest girl in her home look exactly like Genna? And I mean exactly like her at that age!”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. His mother’s face turned ashen.

  “What is wrong?”

  “I never wanted to tell anyone this. I cannot believe I have to tell you.” She clenched the back of a chair for support.

  “Tell me what? Did you already know Bronwyn was my child?”

  His mother closed her eyes and for the first time in the years he had known her, a tear fell down her cheek. “Bronwyn is not your daughter, Anthony.”

  “Is that what she told you?” he demanded.

  “Victoria had no need to tell me about Bronwyn.” She inhaled a short breath. “Bronwyn is your sister.”

  “Goddammit! Why didn’t you tell me I had another half sister before now? You know it wouldn’t have mattered to me!”

  “I know, Anthony. It wasn’t you I was protecting her from.” She came around the blue chair and sat down. “Sit down.”

  “I really do not wish to sit right now.”

  “If you wish to hear my story, then sit.”

  He blew out a breath of frustration and sat across from her. “All right. It’s not that difficult to figure out how I arrived with another sister, but I would like to know how Victoria came to care for her.”

  “Very well, we shall start with that. About twelve years ago, I was shopping for a new bonnet. On the way into the milliners, a slip of a girl bumped into me. I quickly realized she had picked my reticule.”

  Victoria had never told him how she ended up at the brothel, but now it made perfect sense. “You were the woman who let her clean rooms.”

  She tilted her head and looked at him. “And how did you come to learn that?”

  Heat crossed his cheeks. “I think you can hazard a guess.”

  “Dammit, Anthony. I told you to leave her alone.” His mother sighed. “As I was saying, she came here to clean rooms. I told her that if she wanted to work upstairs, she could. Then two years later, I discovered I was with child. I couldn’t lose this child as I had you and Genna. One night, Victoria came home dreadfully upset because she’d given her innocence to someone.”

  She cast him a cold stare. “I decided that night that I would buy a home and set Victoria up to care for my child. That way if she’d gotten with child, she would have a place to raise her child, too. We decided on a new identity for her. I taught her to read and write and comport herself amongst higher quality people. I wanted my daughter raised properly.”

  “You saved her life,” he mumbled.

  “She saved me from losing another child.” She looked over at him. “While I can’t raise her, at least she is only next door. If I want to see her, I can. Now how exactly did you come to meet Victoria?”

  He explained how they had come to meet each other after his first arrival at the brothel. Then he told her about the rest of the story. A slice of guilt cut into him when he thought about the way he’d treated Victoria this morning.

  “So was she your mistress in truth or only pretend?” his mother finally asked.

  “I would prefer not to answer that question.”

  “Then I believe I have my answer.” She shook her head and stared at her green silk skirts. “Tell me something, were you furious when you saw Bronwyn because you found out you had a bastard? Or because you thought she had kept it from you?”

  “The latter. If I had a child, I would do everything in my power to raise the child myself.” Just as Nicholas had done with his daughter. Anthony respected Nicholas for his decision, especially after seeing what Sophie went through due to their father.

  “Are you in love with her?”

  He knew the answer but refused to answer the question. “It does not matter.”

  She pressed her lips together and looked up to the ceiling. “Yes, it truly does matter, Anthony. If your father had loved me, honestly loved me, my life would have been very different.”

  “Do you regret your decision?”

  “Some days,” she answered slowly. “I made a choice. It might not have been the best decision I could have made, but it was my decision.”

  “Tell me about Bronwyn,” he said, wanting to know more about his newest sister.

  “Victoria has done an excellent job with her. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to raise her.”

  “I should have realized by her name that she wasn’t Victoria’s child. You named her after your mother.” Anthony owed Victoria a huge apology. And once he finished speaking with his mother, he would go to her. But there was something bothering him about all this mess.

  “Mother, I don’t understand how Bronwyn can look so much like Genna. I mean it’s uncanny. And yet, Genna has more of Father’s darker looks than your fairer appearance.”

  Her cheeks turned red. “I never said Bronwyn was your ha
lf sister.”

  “Oh bloody hell, you let him f—”

  “Do not say that word in front of me,” she ordered. “Your father has visited here a few times in the past eighteen years.”

  “You have no reason to be with him.”

  “He is still my husband, Anthony. As such, if he chooses to demand his husbandly rights, I cannot refuse.”

  He watched his mother’s face go completely red. “You don’t want to refuse him, do you? Oh hell, you still love him.”

  She shrugged. “Only slightly. I will admit I enjoy the time he spends with me. But I like it even more when he leaves. Your father and I are volatile together, which while enjoyable in bed is not the best recipe for marriage.”

  Anthony stood and returned to the window. “Does he know about Bronwyn?”

  “No,” she replied. “If I had told him then he would have brought her to his home with Genna. Then I never would have seen my daughter again. I lost one daughter, I will not lose another.”

  He could not fault her. The burning sensation that ate at him when he thought he had lost nine years of his daughter’s life could not compare to the reality that she faced every day. And while most people would condemn her for leaving her husband, he knew she’d felt betrayed by the man she loved.

  “I still do not understand how you can let him into your bedroom after what he put you through.”

  “Can you honestly tell me if you were to marry today, you could forget about Victoria? Would you still think about the things you did together? Still dream about how she felt? How she kissed?”

  “I would prefer not to discuss this with my mother,” he said harshly.

  “But yet you are interrogating me on my private life.”

  “Touché,” he replied. “It does not matter. I will find a wife and be faithful to her.”

  “And yet in your dreams, you will only see Victoria,” his mother whispered.

  “Stop,” he ordered. “You are the person who told me marriage to a respectable woman would solve my problems.”

  “That was before you fell in love.”

  “I never said I was in love,” he retorted.

  His mother laughed. “You don’t have to say a word, Anthony. Since you arrived in my room, you have looked over at her house so many times I lost count.”

  Anthony closed his eyes and rested his head on the window frame. “A carriage pulled up and I was just curious who was calling on her.”

  “And did you recognize the coach?”

  “It looks like Lady Farleigh.” His brows furrowed. How did Hannah know Victoria’s identity? She’d wanted no one to learn her real name.

  “Oh, I saw her sister three days ago,” his mother said offhandedly.

  “Lady Farleigh’s sister? Lily Hatfield?”

  “Yes, she was at the drapers. She was thrilled because her new doctor finally decided she needed to eat more meat even though she does not care for it. Once she started, her fatigue disappeared, and she has been in much improved health.”

  Anthony swallowed and stared at the coach. Nicholas had told him that Hannah relayed to him that her sister was dying and that’s why she was at the inn and on her way to London.

  “Anthony, whatever is the matter?”

  He looked down once more and noticed Hannah clutching Victoria’s arm and all but pushing her into the carriage. Oh hell, Hannah was Hardy’s accomplice.

  “Victoria’s being kidnapped.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Victoria attempted to twist out of Hannah’s grip but the woman was stronger than she appeared. Knowing Victoria had no one to help her out of this mess, she aimed for Hannah’s toes. Stomping her heel down on the woman’s foot only led to a fierce elbow jab to Victoria’s ribs.

  “You little bitch, just get in the carriage before I kill you right here,” Hannah rasped.

  “Then do it,” Victoria taunted. “But then you won’t have whatever it is you’re looking for, will you?”

  Victoria could only assume they wanted the note Somerton had taken from Hardy. The door to the carriage opened and Hardy stared down at her with a gleam in his eyes.

  “Maybe all we want is you,” he replied.

  Terror struck her when Hardy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the carriage. “Let me go,” she screamed, praying someone would hear her.

  She fell onto the floor of the carriage. Hannah kicked her legs out of the way and sat down. The coach rolled away from the only home Victoria had ever truly loved. Only the children knew what had happened. Maggie had gone to the butcher’s to buy some beef for a stew and Victoria doubted the scullery maid had heard anything.

  She scrambled to the seat across from Hardy. No matter how scared she truly became, she could not let them see her fright. Thankfully, she had remembered to snatch her reticule before Hannah could drag her out of the house. Somerton had never removed his pistol from it. Now, she had a pistol loaded with one shot, but two people were in the coach.

  Hannah might be unarmed, but Victoria couldn’t take that chance. The woman had threatened to kill Victoria in front of her own home. Hardy most likely had a pistol and the driver might too. At some point, there was a possibility that she could be left alone with just one of them. She had to concentrate on that thought.

  “Would one of you tell me what this is all about?” she finally asked.

  Hannah shook her head slightly. “We will discuss this in private.”

  “When?”

  “When we get where we are going,” Hardy said in a rough voice.

  Hannah glared at him. “Don’t yell at her. This is all your fault, you spineless bastard. If you could have kept your mind on the goal and not her, this would never have happened.”

  “I can’t help myself,” Hardy said hoarsely. “Everyone knows I like my women small and blond. She even has blue eyes. Just thinking about her sitting here in the same carriage is getting me hard.”

  “You are an utter pig,” Hannah replied. “Once again, you are thinking with that head,” she pointed to the bulge in his trousers, “instead of your brain.”

  Victoria went silent and tried to look out the slit in the window covering. Seeing what appeared to be buildings, she assumed they had not left town. After numerous turns, the carriage rolled to a stop.

  Hardy turned his attention on her. “You will walk out of this carriage and up those stairs like a lady. Not that you are one, but you can pretend once more, can’t you? When we get inside, you will say nothing to anyone or I will shoot you right there.”

  “Where are we?” she asked, glancing up at the large home.

  Hannah smiled. “You really don’t need to concern yourself over where we are.”

  “Why not?”

  “Your only concern should be what we plan to do with you,” Hardy said with a sneer.

  Victoria swallowed down her fear. She would figure a way out. She had to because the only other choice would be death.

  They walked inside the magnificent home after the butler opened the door for them.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Farleigh, Mr. Hardy.” He waited for an introduction.

  “This is a new one for His Grace.”

  His Grace? Which duke could they be speaking of?

  The butler pursed his lips but nodded. “Very well, then. Take her up to his other room.”

  A new slice of fear cut down her back as they escorted her up the stairs. Tossing a door open, they walked into a room with a large bed in the middle and a long table to the side.

  “Tie her to the bedpost to start,” Hannah ordered Hardy.

  Hardy shoved Victoria up against one of the posts and tied her hands tightly behind her back. He grabbed the reticule and tossed it on the bed. The ropes cut into her skin as she tried to twist out of them.

  “Don’t bother,” Hannah said with a laugh. “Hardy used to be a sailor so he knows how to tie a knot.”

  “What is this about, Hannah?” Victoria demanded. “I should at least know where I am an
d why!”

  “I think you know exactly why you are here.”

  Pain struck her cheek where Hannah hit her. “I don’t know why I am here,” she cried out.

  “Where is the note you picked from Hardy?” Hannah’s hot breath stung Victoria’s cheek.

  “I did not take any note from Hardy,” she said.

  “Of course you did,” he said. “Luckily, the first one was only a letter to my mother.”

  Seeing the look of shock she couldn’t hide, he continued, “Did you think I was stupid? I had already checked the study when you returned and put the letter by the chair.”

  “I never did that,” she cried.

  “Do you think we are fools?” Hannah walked past her. “Now where is it?”

  “I do not have any note.”

  Hannah laughed coarsely. “I never thought you had it. I want to know who you gave it to, Somerton or Ancroft?”

  She could not tell them. There was no doubt in her mind that they would kill Somerton. But if she didn’t they would kill her.

  “Neither,” she replied. Think, Victoria! Think! Who else might want that missive? “Your husband wanted it, Lady Farleigh. He wanted to know what you were about, sneaking around with Hardy.”

  “Liar,” she said and slapped Victoria even harder than before. “Farleigh knows nothing about this. I guess we will wait for Maldon to get the information out of you. He will have you talking in no time.”

  “The Duke of Maldon?” she whispered. She had heard of his depraved ways from some of the women next door.

  Hardy walked closer to Hannah. “Can’t I have her just once before the duke? I promise, he’ll never know. I will take her arse.”

  Hannah slapped Hardy. “No one uses her until His Grace says they can.”

  Victoria swallowed down the lump of fear in her throat. They planned to rape her to get the information. And even if she gave them Somerton’s name, she was certain they would still do the same. For the first time since Hannah stormed into her home, a sense of hopelessness invaded her.