A Wicked Scandal For The Bluestocking (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Lucinda Nelson

  Not for the first time since her father had gone to prison, she wished that she could speak to him.

  Right now, though, she had more important things than proving her father’s innocence. She had to get herself out of this situation. She had no idea how, though.

  She sighed dejectedly and dropped her head, hoping that if she appeared compliant, Harvey would get bored with trying to scare her and leave her alone. The man was clearly deranged, after all. Perhaps if he didn’t view this as a fun game anymore, then he would walk away.

  She had to hope so. The alternative was too grim for her to contemplate.

  “What do you want with me?” she asked quietly.

  Harvey grinned meanly at her. “I’m going to take you away and torture you,” he informed her, making her blood run chill. “It’s something that I ought to have done with your father, rather than letting the lawyers have him. I didn’t think of it at the time, though.”

  He paused and traced a finger lightly down her cheek. Charlene shuddered with revulsion, but as she tried to pull back away from him, she realized that there was nowhere for her to go. She was hemmed in against the wall, with no way to escape.

  She thought she might be sick.

  She knew that she couldn’t fight the man, and even if she managed to slip away from him for a moment, it was only a matter of time before he caught up to her again, either in this dark alleyway or elsewhere in the city.

  She was doomed. From the start, she had been doomed.

  For a moment, she wished that she could just go back. Back to Bath, when she was younger. Back to that kiss that Eric had given her. If she could do it all again, perhaps things would have been different.

  Aunt Helene had been right, maybe. Charlene should have agreed to marry Lord Ambrose. It would have been a horrid way to go, but at least it wouldn’t be this. Harvey was talking about torture and death, and Charlene had no way of escaping him.

  Harvey wrapped his fingers around her wrist, tightly enough that she could feel the bruise already beginning to form. With his other hand, he caught at her hair, twisting it roughly in his fingers.

  He leaned in close to her, and she could smell his foul breath as it washed in hot waves over her face. She couldn’t turn away from him, not with the grip he still had on her hair. She trembled, holding her own breath as she listened to his words.

  “Perhaps I should defile you right here, where anyone could come across us,” he murmured, his lips trailing across her jawline in a mockery of a romantic gesture. “I bet that pink flower of yours is ripe for the taking. I’d love to hear you scream my name.”

  He paused. “But then, patience is ever a virtue. Perhaps I should wait until you’re so mad with the torture that you beg for me to take you.”

  “I will never, no matter what you do to me,” Charlene whispered fiercely.

  Harvey laughed and suddenly dragged her along down the alleyway. “I doubt that,” he hissed as they went.

  Charlene stumbled and fell hard to her knees, but Harvey kept dragging her along, barely seeming to realize that she was no longer on her feet. She cried out in pain as her hip jolted against the rough edge of a rock. “Wait!” she cried, but Harvey paid her no mind.

  She reached out with her other hand and managed to drag her fingernails across his wrist, digging them into the skin. Harvey howled in frustration, sounding more like an enraged animal than anything human.

  For a moment, his grip lessened, and that was all that Charlene needed to yank her wrist away and lift herself to her feet again. She grabbed blindly at a wooden crate to the side of the alleyway and threw it at the man with all the force that she could muster.

  That, in itself, likely wouldn’t have deterred the man. Nor would it have stopped him from chasing after her as she fled away from him.

  In that moment of distraction, though, there was suddenly someone else there in the alleyway besides them. Charlene stared at the tall, muscular man who barrelled past her and charged Harvey.

  He bore the man to the ground and got a few good punches in before Harvey seemed to realize what had happened. The ensuing fight was evenly matched: Harvey was lean and quick, but the newcomer had more strength to throw around.

  Eventually, however, Harvey gave up the fight and simply ran, his footsteps heavy on the cobblestones as he darted away into the night.

  Her unknown savior started to pursue the man but then circled back to Charlene, who was still standing where she had been left, utterly stunned.

  She knew that she should have run off while she had the chance. That just because this man had chased off Harvey, it didn’t mean that he was good news for her. He probably just wanted Charlene for himself.

  So as he stepped closer to her, Charlene swallowed and stumbled a half-step back. She still couldn’t see much of the newcomer, not with the way his hood was shadowing his face.

  As though the man realized this, he slowly reached up and drew back the material, revealing his familiar features.

  Charlene felt the breath go out of her for the second time that evening, and she slumped a little as exhaustion and relief both suddenly hit her.

  “Eric,” she breathed.

  Eric stepped forwards, reaching his hands out to steady her. “Charlene,” he confirmed, running his hands along her arms as though he was trying to reassure himself that she was actually there before him. “Are you hurt?” he asked belatedly.

  Charlene shook her head, but even as she did so, she became aware of all the aches and bruises on her body that had formed during her altercation with Harvey. She sniffled, and Eric pulled her close, carefully holding her against his chest. “You’re all right,” he murmured into her hair, and Charlene sagged bonelessly against him.

  “What are you doing here?” she finally managed to ask, unable to keep the tears from her voice.

  “I came looking for you,” Eric told her, sighing softly. “I only wish that I had found you sooner. I was out searching the streets when I thought I saw you run past, and then when I heard your cries…” He looked pained. “Are you sure that you’re not hurt?”

  “Just some bruises,” Charlene said, her voice wavering.

  “Who was that man?” Eric demanded. “You’re not in trouble, are you?”

  Charlene shook her head, but then she slowly nodded. “My whole family is in trouble,” she said. “That was Harvey Parsons. You’re right, he is the one who framed my father.”

  Eric swore. “I knew I should have caught the bastard!” he snarled, looking down the street as though he expected the man to rematerialize to turn himself in.

  “It’s all right,” Charlene sighed. She leaned into Eric’s warmth again. “Can you take me home? Please?”

  She knew that there was no place for her there, but she was beginning to realize that there was no place for her here, either. Whatever the consequences might be, she had to go back home and face them. Marrying Lord Ambrose would be no worse than the torture she would have faced at Harvey’s hands.

  Eric frowned. “It’s too far to go tonight, and especially with you this upset.”

  “I’m not – ” Charlene began to protest, but then she realized that she was still trembling against Eric. Shock, she diagnosed distantly.

  Eric rubbed her arms, trying to warm her, then pulled off his coat and wrapped it around her. “Come,” he said, guiding her down the alleyway away from the place that Harvey had first grabbed her. “I have a room in an inn not too far from here.”

  “Why?” Charlene asked in surprise.

  Eric looked horrified. “I’m not going to do anything to you,” he said immediately. “Charlene, I’m not going to…do whatever Harvey said he was going to do to you. I’ll book a second room for myself if you want. I just want to know that you’re safe and warm.”

  Charlene shook her head quickly. “I didn’t think you were,” she said. “I know you’re not trying to get me alone or anything like that.” At the same time as she said it, though, heat flushed th
rough her. She could almost imagine sharing a room with Eric for the night, their naked bodies pressed flush against one another’s in the bed.

  Foolishness. If Eric had ever wanted her, well, he certainly wouldn’t anymore.

  “I simply wondered why you would have a room in an inn near here,” she added.

  “I told you, I’ve been looking for you,” Eric said simply. “I was worried about you, Charlene.”

  There was something in his tone, and something in his eyes as he stared seriously down at her, that made Charlene feel warm inside. Her shock began to abate, leaving her feeling nothing but exhaustion

  She let Eric lead her towards the inn.

  Inside, he deposited a hefty bag of coins on the counter, making the innkeeper promise that not a soul would know of their presence there.

  Charlene doubted that any would recognize her at this stage anyway.

  At least, she doubted that until Eric ordered a bath be sent up to their room. Eric disappeared when the water was brought in, explaining that he was going to talk to the authorities about Harvey and his attack.

  Charlene hated the silence as the man disappeared from the room, but she stripped down to her skin and slid into the hot water, viciously scrubbing at her skin as though she could forget all about Harvey if she just rubbed away the slime of his touch.

  In the dim lighting, she could already see the dark bruises on her wrist and hip, as well as myriad other splotches dotting her skin. She fought back revulsion and tightened her lips, scrubbing harder, until her skin pinked beneath her ministrations.

  The door swung open just as she was climbing out of the tepid water. Eric froze, staring wide-eyed at her naked body for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words. Then, he gasped out an apology and hurriedly shut the door.

  With himself inside the room.

  Charlene felt as though she could barely breathe. She wanted nothing more than to go to him and wrap her naked body around his. She felt the sweet dampness of lust form between her legs and blushed.

  But Eric had turned away from her, looking pointedly towards the wall as he held something out to her. It was a dressing gown, a little too large and a little scratchy, but Charlene hastily pulled it on.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, trying not to sound too disappointed.

  When she had finished pulling the material around herself, though, Eric finally turned back. His eyes roamed over her for a moment, and then he strode forwards in two quick steps, pulling her into his arms and kissing her passionately.

  This time, pressed against his chest, Charlene found that her legs would no longer hold her up.

  Eric led her over to the bed and pulled her down against him, so that they were half-reclining against the pillows. He continued to kiss her, one large and warm hand coming down to rest atop her hip.

  These kisses made Charlene’s body flare with heat, and it was all that she could do to keep from moaning wantonly.

  She could only imagine what Aunt Helene and the rest of them would have to say about her if they knew what she was doing just now.

  If they knew that she was sharing a room with Duke Cumberland of Havenport for the night, and if they knew about these kisses.

  She shivered as Eric’s hand crept towards the slit in her dressing gown. Suddenly, he froze, pulling back away from her and smiling sheepishly. “Let us not…get carried away,” he said, sounding for all the world as though he wanted nothing more than to let his passion carry him away.

  Charlene smiled back at him and sighed, lying her cheek against his chest and hearing his heartbeat beneath her. “I’m glad that you found me,” she whispered.

  For a long time, Eric didn’t say anything in response, merely let his arms tighten around her body.

  “My father…” Charlene began suddenly. If there was anyone who could tell her about her father’s fate, Eric would be the one, she was certain. Still, she did not know how to phrase the question. She had lost all hope in anyone’s ability to save her father from the gallows, yet she did not want to hear that the man had died.

  And had she not forfeited her right to know, when she had run away and vowed to leave that all behind?

  “The trial was postponed again,” Eric told her quietly, kissing her hair. He cleared his throat. “Or rather, it began as scheduled until your aunt intervened.”

  Charlene pulled back sharply. “Aunt Helene? What did she do?” She couldn’t help but worry. Her aunt had so much as said that she believed the doctor, her brother, to be guilty. Charlene wouldn’t have wanted her near those proceedings.

  “As I understand it, she told the judge all about the Marquess’ blackmail,” Eric explained. “The judge was furious and assigned a new chief investigator to the case.”

  It was silent in the room for a moment. Charlene couldn’t believe that she had just heard him correctly.

  “Lord Ambrose must be furious,” Charlene said worriedly.

  “Part of why I was so determined to find you,” Eric said grimly.

  “And my aunt Helene?” Charlene asked. With both Harvey Parsons and Lord Ambrose seeking revenge on her family, it was only a matter of time before they were all…

  No. She refused to think about that. Aunt Helene would have known what the dangers were, and she would have protected herself against anything that could possibly happen.

  “So what happens now?” Charlene asked.

  “The new chief investigator is considering the evidence and making sure that it’s all legitimate,” Eric told her. He paused, and a slow smile spread across his face. “But you may be happy to hear that I have enough evidence to bring against Harvey in the trial.”

  “What?” Charlene asked in surprise.

  “I won’t get into all of it now,” Eric told her. “All the signs point to your father’s innocence, however.” He sounded pleased with himself, and all Charlene could do was to kiss him again.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against the man’s lips.

  The two of them kissed for a while longer, until eventually they fell asleep. Even though nothing further happened, it settled something deep inside of Charlene’s soul to have him hold her thus.

  Chapter 33

  Lord Eric Cumberland, Duke of Havenport

  Eric felt as though his heart was breaking when he saw how wretched Charlene’s life had become. It wasn’t simply catching her alone in that alleyway with Harvey, begging for him to let her go. Her whole demeanor had been altered.

  She was no longer sunny and smiley like he remembered. She no longer held herself with an air of dignity. Instead, it was all that she could do not to collapse against him, and everything about her seemed unkempt. The bath had done a wonder, but she was nowhere near the woman that he remembered.

  He himself felt wretched in the face of that. If he had but found her sooner…

  He was only grateful that he could bring good news to her. If he had had to tell her that her father was dead, well. He could only imagine the sort of reception that such news would receive now, of all times.

  It had been enough to see how frightened she was in that alleyway. She had been in shock, he thought, her body trembling and her eyes unable to focus on him.

  He hated seeing her like that.

  Fortunately, the longer she stayed in the room, the better she seemed to be feeling. The bath had done wonders for her color, bringing back that soft pink flush that he was accustomed to with her. Her hair was still tangled and unkempt, but overall, she looked more like herself than like the frightened creature he had found in the alleyway.

  He wished that he had beaten Harvey to a pulp for scaring her like that. He wished that he had the opportunity to drag him up in front of the authorities.

  It had taken him some time to find Charlene, but he had spent that time in the “underworld” of London finding the links that he needed to compile a case against the man. It turned out that Harvey had bragged about his exploits to nearly anyone who would listen.

  He had bee
n hired by Lord Ambrose. It wasn’t a surprise when Eric truly thought about it. After all, it couldn’t be a coincidence for the man to suddenly propose to Charlene.

  The Marquess must have known the rumors that were circulating in regards to his previous marriage. He must have realized that no one would willingly agree to be his bride. And he must have found some way around that.

  Although to be perfectly honest, the evidence linking Lord Ambrose and Dr. Ellington was flimsy at best. From what Eric could tell, the involvement of the doctor might have all been Harvey’s doing.

  What he could prove for certain was that Lord Ambrose had approached Harvey with a plan to have Lord Henrich murdered.