by Laura Landon
Wedgewood sat forward in his chair. “A price? On Rafe’s head? That bastard.”
“Yes. Word is just spreading about the marker, but in time, every lowlife in London will be hunting your brother. It’s not only important that Rafe leave London, but that he leaves London tonight.”
“That’s the real reason you’re doing this—to distance yourself from my brother. To save him.”
“Don’t make what I’m doing sound noble. There’s nothing honorable about being a whore.”
“Sacrificing your future happiness for my brother’s safety is one of the most magnanimous acts imaginable. Thank you, Hannah. I am in your debt.”
“You owe me nothing. If not for me, Rafe would never have gotten into this situation.”
“You didn’t get him into this situation. Love did. If he didn’t love you so desperately, things may have been different. And if you didn’t love him so unconditionally, you wouldn’t be doing something so self-sacrificing.”
“Don’t give me too much credit, Wedgewood. My plan hasn’t worked yet. The rest will undoubtedly be up to you.”
Wedgewood frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“There’s no way Rafe will win the auction.” Hannah stopped short. “Unless, of course, you backed him.”
“I loaned him ten thousand pounds.”
Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. “That won’t be enough. Masey will no doubt go that high, if not higher. Needless to say, your brother cannot win. When he loses, it will be your responsibility to take him from London. Preferably tonight. If not tonight, first thing in the morning.”
Wedgewood listened, then nodded. “I’ll tell him I’ve been called home and make him go with me.”
“Good,” Hannah said. Then she smiled and walked to the door. “It’s nine o’clock. It’s time to begin.”
Wedgewood crossed the room and stopped in front of her. “I owe you, Hannah. More than I’ll ever be able to repay. I don’t know how I’d manage if I lost Rafe. He means the world to me—along with Caroline and the children.”
Hannah tried to smile. “I know. He means the world to me too. Saving him is the only thing that will enable me to survive losing him.”
Hannah opened to door and left the room before Wedgewood saw the tears that had formed in her eyes.
Chapter 25
Because Hannah had anticipated a large crowd, and because she wanted to make certain there was no controversy with the bidding process, she’d hired two of the most well-known, well-respected men in London to conduct the auction. One, Mr. Ezra Crumbly, the proprietor of one of the largest banks in London. The other, Mr. Phineas Rummery, of Rummery, Chisholm, and Rummery, solicitors to some of the wealthiest families in London, including at least two of the bidders.
Hannah wanted this night over. She wanted the auction concluded and wanted the hours she would spend servicing a man over. It wasn’t as if she’d never let a man use her before. She had, more times than she could count. But that was before she’d earned enough money to escape the life of prostitution. That was before she’d dreamed of loving someone who was good, and decent, and worthy. Before she’d met Rafe. Before she’d given up being a prostitute and vowed never to return to that lifestyle.
“Are you ready to begin?” Dalia said from beside her.
“Yes. It’s time.”
“I’ll tell Rummery to start, then.”
Dalia turned to leave, but Hannah stopped her. “Has Delores returned yet?”
Dalia shook her head. “Not yet. But we’ve got men out looking. We should know something soon.”
Hannah nodded, then watched as Dalia walked to the front of the room to introduce the men who would conduct the auction as well as the four men who were allowed to bid.
With each introduction, the riotous cheers from the crowd grew louder. The shouts and applause when Dalia introduced Crumbly and Rummery were respectful. The cheers and ovations for Balderford, Referley, Masey, and Rafe were quite different. Masey seemed to be the crowd’s overwhelming favorite. Balderford and Referley were nearly tied with equal supporters cheering them on. Rafe, of course, received the quietest applause. Few knew who he was. None knew why he’d been included in the select group invited to bid for the famous Madam Genevieve’s favors.
Hannah stole a glance in Rafe’s direction. Wedgewood was whispering to his brother, and Hannah prayed he was trying to discourage him from bidding at all. If not that, at least discouraging him from raising his bid too high, because the ten thousand pounds Wedgewood had loaned him would take Rafe a lifetime to repay.
Rafe’s gaze lifted and caught hers. For several seconds they held each other’s gaze as closely and intimately as if the past months of turmoil had never happened. As if Skinner’s threats had never been issued. As if she and Rafe were still in the country and none of this had intruded on their lives.
But it had, and no matter how desperately she wanted things to be different, they weren’t. And never would be.
Hannah moved her gaze first and caught Dalia looking at her. Hannah nodded her encouragement to let the bidding begin. She needed this night over. She needed the painful separation with Rafe to be behind her.
“Gentlemen,” Rummery began as he addressed the four bidders scattered throughout the room. “The bidding will now commence. The item being auctioned tonight is the lovely Madam Genevieve.”
Thunderous applause and cheering echoed in the room. He held up his hands for silence. That did not happen for several minutes. When it did, he continued.
“Do I hear an offer of one hundred pounds?”
“Two hundred pounds,” Viscount Balderford said.
Another loud cheer echoed.
“Five hundred,” the Marquess of Referley answered.
An even louder cheer resounded.
“One thousand pounds,” the Earl of Masey said, doubling the bid.
A deafening roar reverberated in the room.
“One thousand five hundred,” Referley countered.
“Two thousand,” Balderford added.
“Two thousand five hundred,” Masey said.
“Three thousand,” Balderford shouted.
There was a slight pause, and Hannah thought perhaps the bidding would slow to a normal pace. Instead, Masey raised the bid by two thousand.
“Five thousand pounds,” the Earl of Masey said.
Booming roars and thunderous applause followed his offer. The shouts of approval were earsplitting.
Hannah didn’t think the bellows would ever die down, but eventually the room quieted to a tolerable roar.
“The Earl of Masey has bid five thousand pounds,” Rummery announced to the crowd. “Do I hear more?”
“Six thousand pounds,” Rafe said, bidding for the first time.
The silence in the room was noticeable as everyone turned to where Rafe stood beside his brother.
“We have a bid of six thousand pounds. Do I hear more?” Rummery said.
“Six thousand five hundred,” Balderford bid.
“Seven thousand,” Referley bid after a slight pause.
“Eight thousand,” Masey shouted, upping the bid by a thousand.
“The bid is eight thousand pounds,” Rummery announced. “Do I hear a bid of eight thousand five hundred?”
“Eight thousand five hundred,” Rafe said, causing another uproar.
“Do I hear nine thousand pounds?” Rummery asked.
The bidding was slowing, and for the first time Hannah worried that the amount might not reach ten thousand pounds. Referley shook his head and stepped back into the crowd, indicating he was out of the running. Thankfully, Balderford and Masey hadn’t relinquished.
“Nine thousand pounds,” Masey indicated.
“Nine thousand five hundred,” Balderford countered.
Uproarious shouts and cheers boomed through the room.
When the cheering calmed, Rummery announced, “I have a bid of nine thousand five hundred. Do I hear—”
“Ten thousand,” Rafe announced.
The room erupted in thunderous cheers and bellows. It took an eternity for the sound to lessen. When it did, Rummery shouted as loud as Hannah had ever heard him speak.
“We have a bid of ten thousand pounds. Do I hear more?”
Everyone in the room focused on Viscount Balderford and the Earl of Masey. Balderford slowly lifted the corners of his mouth to form a bitter smile, then shook his head.
“My pardon, Madam Genevieve. I regret that I cannot exceed Lord Rafe’s bid, but…” He paused. “I thank you for the opportunity to bid for your favors.” Balderford shrugged his shoulders, bowed his regrets, and stepped back into the crowd.
Only Masey and Rafe were left, and if Masey didn’t raise Rafe’s bid, Rafe would win her for the night.
A heavy weight dropped to the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t how she wanted her friendship with Rafe to end. This wasn’t how she wanted them to part—with bitterness and disgrace and humiliation.
“Lord Masey, the bid is ten thousand pounds to you. Will you raise it?”
Masey paused. Then… “Ten thousand five hundred pounds.”
Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. Rafe had ten thousand pounds. He was finished. She would go to Masey. To have to give herself to a man other than Rafe would dishonor the love she had for Rafe and cause him to hate her; it would also save his life.
Thomas had promised her he would get Rafe out of London as quickly as possible. He’d promised to take him where he’d be safe.
Hannah took a step toward the Earl of Masey. She greeted him with a look of satisfaction, her expression indicating she was certain he’d outbid his fellow bidders. She took another step, then—
“Eleven thousand.”
Hannah stopped her forward progress and stared at Rafe. She couldn’t believe this. Wedgewood had only loaned him ten thousand pounds. How could he bid more, unless…
Hannah looked at Wedgewood. The expression on his face told her he was as surprised by Rafe’s bid as she was. The shrug of his shoulders told her he didn’t know where Rafe had acquired additional money to bid for her.
The room echoed in thunderous cheering and applause. No one had expected the unknown bidder to push Masey beyond the ten-thousand-pound mark.
“We have a bid of eleven thousand pounds, Lord Masey. Do I hear twelve?”
Masey chuckled, then nodded. “Yes, Mr. Rummery. You hear twelve.”
The cheering and applause were now so loud the walls seemed to tremble. The moment their roaring voices quieted, the focus turned to Rafe.
“Lord Rafe,” Rummery hollered in order to be heard over the crowd. “The bid is twelve thousand pounds to you. Do I hear thirteen thousand pounds?”
Rafe turned his head, and his gaze locked with hers.
Hannah tried to read the serious expression on his face. She tried to decipher what the haunted emptiness in his gaze meant. Suddenly, she knew what he intended to do. As if he’d revealed his plan to her, she knew his intent. Somehow, he’d acquired the backing he needed, and he would do whatever it took to make sure she gave herself to no one but him.
Hannah shook her head, praying he’d give up his foolishness.
Rafe turned his gaze away from her and focused on the man calling for the bids. “Thirteen thousand.”
Hannah was oblivious to the deafening shouts and riotous roars of the crowd. She no longer heard the calls of encouragement from the spectators for Masey to raise the bid. The only thing on which she could focus was that Rafe had chosen to bankrupt himself rather than allow her to sell her body.
She wanted to stop the auction. She wanted to rush up to Rummery and order him to call the auction to a halt. Instead, she watched in stunned horror as Masey raised the bid to fourteen thousand. Then Rafe countered with fifteen thousand.
For a moment, Hannah thought the bidding would end there. That Rafe would win her for the astronomical price of fifteen thousand pounds, but after several moments of silence, Masey offered sixteen thousand pounds.
Without hesitating, Rafe offered seventeen.
Everything stood still. Hannah couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go. She’d picked three of the wealthiest men in London to be assured that Rafe wouldn’t win her body—that someone else would.
“The offer is seventeen thousand pounds, Lord Masey. Do you have a counteroffer?”
The room was silent.
Masey looked at Rafe and must have read the same unyielding determination in his gaze that Hannah did. It was a look that told the world that no matter how much anyone bid for Madam Genevieve, it wouldn’t be enough.
Masey shook his head. “No, Mr. Rummery. I regret that I am going to have to allow Lord Rafe the pleasure of Madam Genevieve’s company.”
For one moment, the room remained so quiet that Hannah swore she could hear her own sigh of regret. Then the crowd of men broke out in uproarious shouts and bellows of congratulations. Those nearest Rafe clasped him on the shoulder and clapped him on the back, but there was no look of triumph on his face, no gleam of accomplishment in his eyes. Only a dark, hollow expression that told Hannah that although he’d won the wager, he hadn’t won at all.
She tried to play the part of the gallant host. With shoulders high and back straight, she turned to Dalia. “Show our guests to the parlor,” she said loud enough to be heard by everyone around her. “I regret I will be unavailable for the remainder of the night.”
Loud guffawing followed her statement, and the crowd of men slowly made their way to the door. When the room was cleared, Hannah faced the man she loved—but had lost.
“Congratulations, Lord Rafe,” she said with as sincere a smile as she could. “I hope you find I am worth the amount of money you paid for me.”
The expression on his face remained rigid. His eyebrows arched, and she saw a look of disappointment in his eyes she’d prayed she’d never see in him.
“I’m afraid there is only one winner here tonight, Hannah,” he said softly. “You. I have lost everything.”
He turned away from her and walked to where Mr. Rummery and Mr. Crumbly stood, waiting to collect the wager. Wedgewood was at his side.
Hannah watched Rafe accept their words of congratulations, but there wasn’t a hint of satisfaction on his face, not a glimmer of joy. Only regret.
He reached into his pocket and handed Crumbly a piece of paper. Hannah knew it was the ten-thousand-pound note Wedgewood had given him. Then he reached into another pocket, no doubt for the remainder of the wager.
He hesitated before bringing the object into the open. Then he pulled it from his pocket.
He held the object in his closed fist for a moment, then held his hand out and dropped the object in Mr. Crumbly’s hand.
It was his grandfather’s watch.
“No! Rafe, no!”
Hannah rushed toward him. “No, you can’t.” She turned toward Crumbly and Rummery, who were both examining the watch with great interest. “You can’t take that watch.”
“The workmanship is remarkable,” Crumbly said. “Its worth is far more than the seven thousand pounds Lord Rafe wagered. The jewels alone are—”
“No! I won’t let you give up your grandfather’s watch.” She turned to Crumbly. “I won’t accept Lord Rafe’s watch as payment.”
Crumbly and Rummery exchanged a serious look. “I’m afraid the call is not yours to make, Madam Genevieve,” Rummery said. “Crumbly and I were hired to conduct the auction and accept the wagers proposed, and Lord Rafe made his wager in good faith. We have no choice but to accept this watch in lieu of payment.”
“But—”
“Give up, Madam Genevieve,” Rafe said. His voice was stern, his words clipped. His anger evident.
“Rafe—”
“Like I said, I’m afraid there is only one winner here tonight.” He gave her a small bow. “I hope you are happy.”
He turned and walked away.
Hannah watched him leave
the room with Wedgewood at his side. And she knew…
…she knew she would never be happy again.
Hannah stood where she was for several long minutes. Perhaps it was hours. She had no idea how long she’d stood staring at the empty doorway where Rafe had gone. When Dalia rushed into the room, it was empty. Crumbly and Rummery were gone—along with Rafe’s grandfather’s watch. All Hannah had left from this evening was a hollow space inside her breast where her heart used to live.
“Genny?” Dalia said, her tone urgent enough to pull Hannah from her despair.
“Skinner’s got Delores. He just sent a messenger to tell you that if you want her back, you have to come for her.”
Hannah struggled to come to grips with what Dalia said. “Where is she?”
“He said if we wanted her back, you were to meet him inside Covent Garden, off the Bedford Street entrance.”
“Have my carriage brought round.”
“No,” Dalia said. “You can’t go alone.”
“I have no intention of going alone. Send word to Frisk. Have him bring Razer and Tumbler. Tell them to gather as many men as they can and meet me at Hart Street. Tell them to stay in the shadows. I don’t want Skinner to know they’re there.”
Hannah rushed to her rooms. She quickly changed from the dress she’d worn for the auction. When she finished, she unlocked a drawer in her desk and took out a gun. She made sure it was loaded, then put it in the pocket of her skirt.
“Hopefully, you won’t have to use that,” Dalia said to her.
Hannah nodded. She’d never killed anyone in her life and hoped that wouldn’t change tonight. But if it did, Skinner would be the man most deserving to die.
Word came that Frisk and Razer and Tumbler were on their way to Covent Garden, and Hannah rushed down to her waiting carriage. Every man employed at Madam Genevieve’s followed her.
Nothing about this night had gone as she’d planned. Now her greatest fear was that what happened next would be something she couldn’t live with.