by Merry Farmer
Nigel changed directions so fast he nearly lost his balance. He recognized the voice all too well—Miss Dobson herself. As Miss Hodges started down the stairs, he marched into the vile woman’s office.
“Where is Rebecca Burgess, you unforgivable cunt?” he demanded.
A split-second later, Nigel took in the room. It was ridiculously flowery for an office. One wall had a mostly-empty bookshelf. A fire was blazing in the grate. A single window was covered by curtains of a hideous salmon pink. A large desk took up the center of the room, a variety of switches resting on its top. But what snagged his attention closest of all was a second bookshelf behind the desk. A bookshelf that was angled about a foot and a half away from the wall…which appeared to be opened a crack.
As quickly as he spotted the secret passageway, he shunted it aside and advanced on Miss Dobson. “What have you done with Miss Burgess?” he growled.
Miss Dobson’s sour face tensed with shock. “Miss Burgess? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, utterly unconvincingly. She backpedaled all the way to her desk, a hand clutching her heart, or at least the empty space where a heart should have been.
“I have it on good authority that you have illegally imprisoned Miss Burgess and abused her,” he growled, towering over Miss Dobson. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to raise a hand to the woman. He abhorred violence of all kinds directed against women, but at the moment, Miss Dobson was testing his patience sorely.
“M-miss Burgess disobeyed the rules of the school,” Miss Dobson stammered, leaning backwards over her desk. “She obtained false permission to leave the school, lied about her whereabouts, and returned late.” The woman blinked, then straightened with a scowl. “She was with you,” she said.
Nigel ignored the accusation. He would gladly admit that Rebecca had been with him, and by the time he was finished, she would be with him always. He wouldn’t let her stay another night under the wretched woman’s roof.
“Where is she?” he growled as if he had a hardened killer cornered instead of a pernicious schoolteacher.
Miss Dobson swallowed and whimpered. “I own this school, sir,” she squeaked. “The parents of these young women sign their daughters over into my care with an explicit understanding that I may use any means within my power to rid them of their scandalous and unacceptable proclivities. Contracts are signed granting permission to use corporal punishment if necessary. I have not done anything that that wicked young woman’s parents have not already agreed to, nor that they would find fault in me doing.”
Bile rose to the back of Nigel’s throat, not because he thought she was lying, but because he knew she wasn’t. He’d interviewed the right honorable Mr. and Mrs. Burgess when Lord Grey was arrested for treason. They were as rotten as Grey and twice as corrupt. They were exactly the sort of people who would condone violence against their offspring as a way to bring them in line. It was a wonder Rebecca had turned out as soft and wonderful as she was. And it was about time he rescued her from the nightmare of her life.
“Where is she?” he repeated, balling his fists.
“She’s downstairs,” Miss Hodges called out from the doorway.
Nigel backed away from Miss Dobson and turned to her. The courageous young woman must have listened to the entire conversation. She gasped and darted out of sight as soon as Miss Dobson shifted her focus and scowled at the sight of her. The reaction was enough to prompt him to say, “If you hurt another one of the young ladies in your care, I will hurt you,” before racing after her.
“She’s in the old wine cellar,” Miss Hodges said, breathless and miserable, when Nigel marched back into the hall. Rebecca’s other friend, the blonde one, had joined her, and the two clasped hands, like sisters sentenced to the guillotine. “Hurry,” Miss Hodges said.
Nigel didn’t need to be told twice. He charged down the stairs, ready to do whatever it took to free Rebecca.
Every part of Rebecca hurt. Her stomach hurt from the barrel she was strung over digging into her for what felt like hours. Her wrists and ankles hurt where the shackles Miss Dobson had locked around them chafed. Her head pounded from being pointed downward for so long. Her backside throbbed in stinging agony from the blows Miss Dobson had landed. And if she were honest, her feminine parts were still sore from everything she’d done with Nigel.
But most of all, her pride was severely wounded. Miss Dobson had left her in the pitch-black cellar with her skirts tossed up over her head and her stinging bottom exposed. Even worse than that, her posterior faced the door—a door that had opened at least half a dozen times while she’d been trapped over the barrel. She had no idea who had peeked in to see her that way, but whoever they were, they had laughed and whispered before slamming the door shut on her and laughing some more. She would have bet a gold guinea it was Miss Cade, Miss Conyer, and Miss Warren, Miss Dobson’s pets, but she had no way to prove it.
The humiliation was acute, and Rebecca’s spirits had dropped to a pitiful low when thumping from the floor above her shook her out of the stupor she’d fallen into. She was only able to raise her head a little, but when she turned one ear to the ceiling, the sounds of a commotion were clear. Hope began to peek through the darkness in her heart. Something was happening. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that whatever it was, it would mean the end of her torment. She wouldn’t have minded the end of Miss Dobson either.
Sure enough, within minutes, the commotion grew louder, switching from the floor above her to the hallway outside the cellar where she was imprisoned. She held her breath as a masculine shout sounded through the door. She couldn’t hear the words, but she would have known Nigel’s voice anywhere.
“Nigel,” she cried out with as much force as she could manage. She pulled at the shackles on her wrists, but instantly stopped when her efforts caused nothing but pain.
A moment later, the cellar door banged open and light spilled into the room.
“My God,” Nigel shouted in shock.
Rebecca could only imagine what he thought of the site of her, bound and exposed as she was. “Nigel,” she called to him, beyond caring how pitiful she felt.
She couldn’t see him in her position, but she felt him march across the room in a few, thudding strides. He lifted her skirts, covering her fully and sending a surprise jolt of pain across the sensitive skin of her backside.
“I’ll have your head for this,” he growled to who Rebecca could only assume was Miss Dobson. “Release her from these barbaric chains at once.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Miss Dobson’s voice echoed through the room along with the sound of keys jangling. “I told you, every punishment at this school has been explicitly described to the parents of my charges and approved of.”
A sick knot formed in Rebecca’s stomach, even as the shackles around first her ankles, then her wrists loosened and dropped away. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Hadn’t her father gone on at length about how young women should have the wickedness beaten out of them on several occasions? And her mother had spoken repeatedly about the necessity of nipping pride in the bud.
“This is an atrocity,” another male voice said. “The law will hear about this.”
Rebecca had the horrible feeling the voice belonged to Lord Landsbury and that he’d seen her before Nigel had covered her.
“I’ve done nothing illegal, I swear it,” Miss Dobson insisted, though she sounded more than a little mad.
Rebecca tried to move, tried to push herself up and away from the barrel, but she was too weak and in too much pain. Her efforts only lasted a moment before Nigel lifted her, cradling her in his powerful arms.
“My darling,” he said, more emotion in his voice than she thought was possible for a man. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never let anything like this happen to you again.”
In spite of everything, Rebecca’s eyes went wide. “You had nothing to do with this. It was her doing, not yours.”
“You ungrateful harlot
,” Miss Dobson yelped. “It’s my reputation you’ve put on the line with your whoring. Mine and my school’s.”
Nigel’s arms and torso went rock-hard with fury around Rebecca. He marched forward. At first she thought he would attack Miss Dobson—who turned with a shriek and dashed into the hall—but he merely carried her into the light.
“If your reputation suffers, it is your own fault, madam,” he growled. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you cavorting next door when Khan hosts his entertainments.”
Miss Dobson gasped in offense, but her face went pink and her eyes wide. “I never!”
“You did just last week,” Rebecca managed to say with a fair amount of force in her accusation. “I saw you drunk and exposing yourself, pleasuring two men at once.” That had, in fact, been what Jo witnessed, but that didn’t make it less true.
Miss Dobson’s eyes popped even wider. “That was you?” she gasped. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, preventing Nigel from carrying her up to the ground floor, where Rebecca could already see several of her fellow pupils gathered, eager to watch the unfolding drama. “I knew that was you,” Miss Dobson went on, her tone turning accusatory. “You are a whore. A filthy little—” She stopped short when Lord Lansbury advanced toward her and scrambled up the stairs. “But how did you know about—” She stopped again as Nigel marched up the stairs after her, forcing her into the throng of her students. It was either confess what Jo had seen to every eager pair or ears or keep her mouth shut.
“I’m taking Miss Hodges out of here,” Nigel declared when they reached the top of the stairs.
“But you can’t,” Miss Dobson said as he barged past her, carrying Rebecca straight for the door. “Her parents pay me to keep her here.”
Rebecca caught sight of Jo and Caro watching the unfolding scene from the staircase leading to the first floor. Their eyes were full of tears, though Rebecca couldn’t tell if they were happy or miserable tears.
“The Hodges are abroad,” Nigel said, marching for the door. “And I doubt they will ever return to England. I’ll have words for them if they do.”
The excited, murmuring young ladies of the school jumped out of Nigel’s way as he pushed on. Lord Landsbury rushed ahead, opening the door for them when they reached it.
“But where will you take her?” Miss Dobson skittered along after them, shoving any girl unfortunate enough to get in her way. “You can’t just pluck a young woman out of a respectable school.”
“There is nothing respectable about this school,” Nigel said as he reached the door and turned to face her. “I am opening an investigation into your conduct and practices in the morning.”
“You can’t—”
“Expect the Runners in the morning.”
“Runners?” one of the young ladies asked.
“Bow Street Runners? Here?” another followed.
Within seconds, excited ripples spread through the hall and the adjoining rooms.
“Remind me to tell Gibbon only to send the most stalwart, unimpeachable Runners we have to the school,” Nigel muttered to Rebecca. “Ones that preferred men would be best.
Of all things, Rebecca snorted with laughter. Nigel turned to carry her out to the street and hopefully to the carriage she could see waiting in the dark beyond the sidewalk.
“You cannot steal a woman from my school,” Miss Dobson insisted, rushing after them. “It’s abduction.”
“I’m not stealing her,” Nigel called over his shoulder as he lowered Rebecca carefully to her feet by the side of the carriage. Lord Landsbury held the door open for her. “I’m marrying her.”
Rebecca’s jaw dropped. Nigel turned away from Miss Dobson and the school and grinned at her. In spite of the pain that still lashed her, Rebecca had never been happier.
Chapter 10
Rebecca’s happiness instantly dented as she climbed into Lord Landsbury’s carriage and attempted to sit.
“Oh,” she moaned, balancing her sore backside and body on her hands so that she didn’t have to lower it all the way to the seat. Even cushioned, the seats weren’t soft enough after what she’d suffered.
Nigel instantly sensed her predicament when he stepped up into the carriage. With a dark scowl, he sat on the seat with Rebecca, then lifted her into his arms. He positioned her carefully so that her backside rested in the space between his knees with little direct contact to anything and his powerful arms held her there. She only winced slightly when Lord Landsbury jostled the carriage as he stepped inside.
“If I had had any idea how wicked that Miss Dobson woman was,” Lord Landsbury began in a growl, “I would have done whatever I could to shut her so-called school down and to rescue the girls whose parents have dumped them there.”
“It’s not all bad,” Rebecca said, wincing again as the carriage rocked into motion. “I don’t know what I would do without Jo and Caro, and I met them there. I also learned French and German. Well, a bit.”
“It’s not worth it,” Nigel grumbled. “Nothing can possibly make what was done to you right.”
Part of Rebecca wanted to continue arguing in favor of her friends, since she never would have known them without the school. But she had almost no energy left. Her body ached, and all she wanted to do was snuggle against Nigel and forget the world.
“I’m certain Verity will be more than happy to harbor Miss Burgess,” Lord Landsbury said, “until such a time as—”
“No.” Nigel cut him off. Rebecca shifted to glance questioningly up at him. “Tell your driver to take us to my flat by Hyde Park.”
“Your flat?” Lord Landsbury repeated. Rebecca couldn’t tell if he was studying her with disapproval or with shock. Either way, he knocked on the roof of the carriage, then leaned out the window to tell the driver, “Hamilton Place.” As soon as he was seated once more, he arched a brow at Nigel and asked, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Yes,” Nigel answered unequivocally. “I’ve never been more sure in my life.”
Rebecca smiled and rested her head against Nigel’s shoulder. Her position wasn’t comfortable, but within moments she had drifted into a contented half-sleep. She awoke fully when the carriage came to a stop and sat straight. With a little effort, Nigel carried her out of the carriage without her feet having to touch the ground. Lord Landsbury stepped out with them.
“Are you planning on finishing your business in the pub?” he asked, nodding to The Silver Hart.
Nigel stared longingly at the pub for a moment before letting out a heavy breath and shaking his head. “There are more things in the world than catching thieves. I know where I’m needed now.”
“Is that what you were in there for?” Lord Landsbury asked.
“Catching thieves?” Rebecca added.
Nigel looked from her to Lord Landsbury. “If that was the diamond thief earlier, then there’s little chance he’s still in the pub. All I know is that it couldn’t be Herrington.”
“That’s the man you nearly knocked over on Manchester Square,” Lord Landsbury said.
Nigel nodded. “Herrington is not the thief. But that doesn’t rule out Lichfield, and I still believe the two are associated somehow.”
“Then we need to find them,” Rebecca said, making a half-hearted effort to wriggle out of Nigel’s arms.
“No,” he said, smiling at her. “They can wait for another day. Tonight, my only concern is you.”
“Oh.” Rebecca could feel her blush from her cheeks to the tips of her toes.
“Good luck, man,” Lord Landsbury told Nigel with a wink.
He returned to his carriage and Nigel headed toward the door of his building. As far as Rebecca was concerned, he was extraordinarily agile in the way he carried her inside, up the stairs, and unlocked the door to his flat with her in his arms. Nothing had changed since the afternoon, but Rebecca felt as though she were coming home after a long journey. Nigel shut the door behind her and carried her straight to his bedroom.
She
swallowed a sound of discomfort as he lowered her to the bed, instantly rolling to her side and letting out a breath of relief. “That’s better.”
“That woman is a devil,” Nigel growled, reaching for her feet and tugging off her slippers. “I cannot be responsible for what I might do if I ever see her again.” With her shoes removed, he slipped off her stockings.
“You’ll have to see her when I go back,” she said. A titillating thrill of pleasure began to pulse through her as he undressed her. When her stockings were gone, he shifted up to tug loose the ties of her gown.
“You aren’t going back,” he said with a note of ferocity. “You’re staying right here, with me.”
Rebecca twisted to glance over her shoulder at him even as he pushed the top of her bodice down over her shoulders. “Stay with you?” Her heart beat faster as she remembered what he’d told Miss Dobson in parting.
He seemed to sense her true question. “I’m going to marry you, Rebecca Burgess, make no mistake about that.”
Rebecca sucked in a breath as a shiver passed through her. “My parents will never consent.”
“Your parents aren’t in England at present,” Nigel reminded her. He gestured for her to rock back to her knees, and when she did, he proceeded to peel her gown up over her head and to toss it aside.
“If they find out I’ve married a Bow Street Runner, they might come back and attempt to have the marriage annulled,” she said.
He shook his head, removing her stays and sweeping her chemise up over her head, leaving her fully naked. “If they do return, all they’ll discover is that you’ve married the Baron Wharton.”
Rebecca pursed her lips and frowned at him in confusion. “Nigel, I have no intention of marrying anyone but you.”
He merely stared back at her, a slight twitch to his lips that might have been a smile, his eyes alive with mirth and desire.