He placed his arm around her shoulders. “Mrs. O’Leary. It took some persuasion, but she finally told me.”
Lizbeth leaned back and looked at him. “Mrs. O’Leary? Isn’t she in jail?”
“You know, I never thought about that.” Marcus frowned. “You’re correct, though. She should be in jail for the paintings’ theft. However, when I learned from Maxim that you were taken, I just ran to her house, assuming she would know.”
“Maxim?”
“Um. Yes. Do you recall the man you kicked so hard he smacked his head on the pavement when you were being taken from in front of the Café?”
“Yes.”
“I was paying him to follow you in case you got into trouble.” He waited for her chastisement, but instead she just stared at him with her mouth agape. “And I knocked him out?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Lizbeth shook her head. “Well, that didn’t work so well. But back to Mrs. O’Leary. I can’t believe she wasn’t in jail.”
They were interrupted when a man approached them. “Inspector Lewis?” Marcus said. Apparently, their surprises for the day were not over. Constable Pemberton strolled up beside him.
“I don’t know why the two of you are here, but you have put yourselves into the middle of a raid,” he growled.
“Raid?” They said simultaneously.
He fisted his hands at his side. “Right now, there are officers in London and Bath as well as Bristol rounding up dozens of people involved in the kidnappings that you experienced, Miss Davenport.”
Lizbeth raised her chin. “So, you finally acknowledge that I was kidnapped? However, Inspector, we did not put ourselves into the middle of this raid. I was kidnapped again and headed for that ship.” She waved her arm at the boat where over a dozen men were being led down the gangplank, hands tied behind their backs. “Thankfully, Mr. Mallory came after me.”
He gave them a curt nod. “Fine. I’m glad all is well, but now I must ask you to leave so we can continue with our work.”
Marcus took Lizbeth’s elbow to move her forward.
She pulled her arm free. “Just a minute, Inspector.”
The man turned back to her.
“Mr. Mallory learned where I was tonight because Mrs. O’Leary told him. Why is she not in jail?”
The Inspector glanced over at Pemberton and cleared his throat. “Mrs. O’Leary provided detailed information on the kidnappings and brothels. Her help made this raid possible.”
“Yes?” Lizbeth drew the word out, and Marcus was just beginning to realize what had happened. He made sure he had his arm snugly around her shoulders, so she didn’t assault the Inspector and land herself in jail along with the rest of the crowd.
“Oftentimes people accused of crimes can have a lighter sentence if they help with other crimes.” The Inspector began to edge back as if returning to the fray going on behind them was safer than the look on Lizbeth’s face.
She must have figured out where Inspector Lewis was going with this because her face flushed. “What exactly are you saying, Inspector?”
“Since the theft of your paintings did not result in any benefit to Mrs. O’Leary since she was never paid by the art dealer, the charges against her were dropped in favor of her naming everyone involved in the kidnapping scam.”
“What?!”
Marcus tightened his grip on her and pulled her back. “Let’s find an inn where we can spend the night.”
“No!”
She tried to wrestle herself away from his arms, but he held on tight. “Come on, my love.” He could feel all her muscles tense under his hands. “Come. They have work to do.”
Just then a carriage came barreling onto the docks with Nick driving. He pulled on the horses’ reins and jumped down to address the Inspector. “Mr. Joey Barton is inside the carriage. He might be asleep.” He shrugged. “Or knocked out. Maybe dead. I’m not sure.” He placed his hands on his hips and nodded at Lizbeth. “Welcome back, Miss Davenport.”
“Thank you.”
The inspector spoke to Pemberton, and then left to join the others. Pemberton opened the door of the carriage and dragged an unconscious—or maybe dead—Joey Barton out.
Nick smiled when the man’s head hit the ground. “I’m headed home. I don’t want to leave my wife alone too long. She likes to get into trouble herself.”
Marcus stuck his hand out and they shook. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Anything for a friend.” He winked at Lizbeth, who looked around.
“Where is your horse?”
Nick walked to the back of the carriage. “Tied back here. I’m going to the train station first to see if there is a train leaving shortly with an animal transport car to keep from having the poor animal ride to Bath with me on his back.”
Nick untied the horse, mounted it, and with a slight salute, left Marcus and Lizbeth staring after him. “He is such a wonderful man. I am so glad things worked out for him and Pamela,” Lizbeth sighed.
Marcus walked her to his horse and tossed her onto its back. He climbed up after her and surrounded her with his arms, thanking God that he got to her in time.
They found a respectable place to spend the night, and Lizbeth didn’t protest when he asked for one room. She appeared so weary he wondered if she even realized what he had done.
He requested a hot bath be sent up for her and he made his way to the dining room to order food he would carry himself to their room when she was through with her bath. In the meantime, he spent time at a small table in the dining room, nursing a glass of brandy, watching the front door to make sure no one entered whose look he didn’t like.
Going over the events of the night, he decided if he had to tie their wrists together, he would make sure no one ever touched Lizbeth again.
After about another half hour the innkeeper’s wife approached his table to tell him Lizbeth had finished her bath. He retrieved the food from the dining room and hurried upstairs.
Lizbeth sat in the middle of the bed, fully dressed. He placed the food on a small table and moved to the bed, sitting alongside her. “I don’t want you to be disturbed by us being in the same room. I signed us as a married couple, so there will be no question, and all I want to do is lie alongside you and hold you. Nothing else.”
She nodded. “I trust you.”
You probably trust me more than I trust myself right now.
They finished their meal and climbed into bed. He considered it might not be such a long night for him, sleeping right next to Lizbeth, because he was so tired. Once they were settled, and the blanket was up to their necks, he pulled her against him, and she wiggled her lovely bottom into his warmth and sighed in contentment. His eyes popped open and every nerve in his body screamed.
Wrong. It was going to be a very, very long night.
Lizbeth turned from the window as Pamela, Addie and Lottie all barged into her bedchamber. “We came to help dress the bride!” Addie said.
It was two weeks after the last attempt to kidnap her. With everything that had happened, Lizbeth did not want a big wedding. Just close friends and family, which Marcus agreed to. They’d spent some time alone, but he was always respectful of her reluctance to engage in anything beyond kissing.
She hoped that in time her fears would fade since Marcus deserved better than what she was comfortable with.
“It is so nice of you to lend me a gown, Addie.” They never made the modiste appointment and with the rushed wedding there had been no time for a new gown. Instead, many of Addie’s pieces had been altered to fit Lizbeth for their wedding trip, with a promise from Marcus that she would have a new, complete wardrobe upon their return.
“Not a loan, as I’ve said. Since my little darling, Judith was born, I cannot fit into anything. Grayson has given me leave to order as much as I want.” She lowered her voice and looked at the other women. “Men feel so dreadfully guilty after the babe is born, what with all the suffering they hear, that they are more th
an happy to give you anything you want.” She winked.
They all laughed, and Pamela placed her hand on her growing belly, as did Lottie, who was much closer to having Carter shower her with ‘grateful’ gifts than Pamela.
“Here we are, Lizbeth,” Addie said as she held up a beautiful pale rose gown.
As she began to ready it to be placed over her head, Lizbeth held up her hand. “Wait.”
“What?” Addie asked with a frown.
Lizbeth wrung her hands and walked in circles. “There is something I want you all to know.” She stopped and faced them. “Please tell me if you think I am being selfish in marrying Marcus.”
Addie raised her brows. “Why ever would you say that? Why would you even think that?”
“Because I am tainted.” Much to her embarrassment, tears flooded her eyes, and one rolled down her cheek. “I can’t even have a…”
“A what, dear,” Lottie said as she stroked her hair.
“A wedding night. I’m still afraid from the brothel.”
Addie took her hand and led her to the bed where they both sat. Lottie and Pamela sat on either side of them. “Does Marcus know this?” She handed her a handkerchief.
Lizbeth took the handkerchief and patted her eyes, trying not to have her face all red and puffy when they went down to join the men and the vicar. “Yes. He’s known for a long time. Even before he proposed.”
“Then why are y-you concerned?” Pamela asked.
“Because I feel like he is being cheated. What if I never get over this reluctance to have my husband touch me?”
Addie put her arm around Lizbeth’s shoulder. “I’ve known Marcus all my life. He is a very patient man—”
“—so he says all the time.”
“—and he loves you. Do you love him?”
“With all my heart. But maybe that’s not enough.”
Lottie leaned over to look at Lizbeth. “I have an idea. Why don’t you talk to Dr. Stevens?”
“Dr Stevens?”
“Yes. Dr. Rayne Stevens. You must have met her when Judith was born. She’s a fine doctor, and as a woman she might have some advice for you.” Lottie waved at the others sitting on the bed. “We all have her as our doctor, and I trust her immensely.” Lottie grinned. “Even more impressive is Carter trusts her.”
“As d-does Nick.”
“As does Grayson.” Addie stood. “Enough. It is time to dress the bride.” She pulled Lizbeth up from the bed and hugged her. “I am so happy we are going to be sisters.”
“Me, too.”
She had a family again.
Marcus chatted with Nick who was to be his best man but kept taking glances up the stairs waiting for Lizbeth to descend. He thought she would have come down by now and was growing concerned that she had changed her mind. He ran his finger along the inside of his collar and tried to concentrate on what Nick was saying.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps to see Lottie and Pamela descending the stairs. Lottie walked up to him. “I think you might want to go upstairs and talk to Lizbeth.”
His heartbeat sped up. “What’s wrong?”
Pamela patted his hand. “Nothing, r-really. Just bridal nerves, but I think seeing you will h-help.”
Terrified that he would find his bride climbing out a window to escape he raced up the stairs to meet Addie on the way down. “How is Lizbeth?”
“Fine. She just needs to speak with you.” Addie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
He made his way to the room she’d been staying in and knocked on the door. “Lizbeth?”
The door opened and he almost dropped to his knees. She was beautiful, stunning, lovely.
And crying.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong.” He stepped into the room and closed the door.
She threw herself into his arms. “I’m scared.”
He leaned back to see her face and wiped a tear with his finger. “So am I.”
She patted her cheeks with a soggy handkerchief. “Why should you be scared?”
He shrugged. “Because I’ve never been married before.”
“No, but you’ve…before.”
He leaned in, close to her ear, a small smile escaping. “I’ve what before?”
She waved her hand around. “You know.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Yes, my love, I do know. I also know I love you so much the thought of not being with you every minute of my life is terrifying.” He tilted her chin up with his finger. “We are in this together. Whatever issues we have in our life we will face as one. No matter what they are. You are no longer alone.”
Lizbeth studied him for a minute and took in a deep breath. “I love you, too. And now I think it’s time for our wedding.” With a smirk she walked to the door, opened it, and waved him through. “The vicar awaits.”
Indeed, the vicar did await. As did the rest of their life.
Together.
Epilogue
Eight months later
“Rayne, I’m sorry, I know you are the doctor, but I am certain I am carrying twins. I still have three months to go and I’m big as a house.” Lizbeth rubbed her lower back as she settled into the chair in her drawing room, adjusting the necessary pillow against her back.
“As I told you, given all your signs, it is quite possible. However, I only feel one baby right now, but it’s possible that they are situated in such a way that the second one is—for lack of a better term—hiding.”
Marcus strolled into the drawing room. “Ah, good afternoon, Dr. Stevens. How is my wife doing?”
Lizbeth smiled brightly at her husband who walked right up to her and took her hand, giving it a gentle kiss. Dr. Stevens grinned when Lizbeth blushed. “I just finished her examination and she is doing just fine, Mr. Mallory. Healthy, and happy. The best kind of mothers-to-be.”
“Since you are on a first name basis with all the women in our group of friends, being their doctor, I suggest we drop the Mr. Mallory.”
“Yes. And we can drop the Dr. Stevens.”
“Will you be joining us for dinner?” He poured a brandy and joined the ladies in the chair across from where they sat on the settee. He didn’t bother to offer Rayne a drink since she never imbibed in any sort of spirits.
“I’m afraid not. I have a patient in my infirmary who needs looking after.” She tightened her lips and shook her head. “A gentleman who was in dismal condition when he was dropped by his idiot friends on my front doorstep last evening.”
Lizbeth’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, my goodness.”
“Yes. I understand the man has quite the reputation with dissipation, debauchery, and other unsavory habits.” She glanced over at Marcus. “In fact, according to Lottie, who I visited earlier since her little boy is suffering from an ague, he made life difficult for her until Carter paid him a visit and assured himself he would no longer harass his wife.” She paused. “I believe Carter made his request with his fists.”
“You aren’t referring to Lord Sterling, are you?” Marcus asked. Lord Sterling had learned that Lottie’s mother was a well-known courtesan in London and had made some insulting remarks to Lottie before Carter convinced him to stop.
“Yes. I’m afraid that’s who was dumped at my door.”
“Is he in bad shape?”
Rayne stood and began gathering her medical bag, gloves and hat. “Yes. Not life threatening, but his behavior and the way he abuses his body will be life-threatening in the future if he doesn’t stop.”
Marcus walked the doctor to the door. “Thank you again for taking such good care of my wife.”
Rayne smiled. “I can only do so much, but I assure you, your everyday care of her is what makes for a happy woman in her condition.” She shrugged into her coat and offered a smile. “Good night, Marcus.”
He closed the door and headed back to the drawing room. To his wife who made him happy every day. He smiled thinking how she was so willing to try to cure herself of her fears, almost right
from their wedding night. It didn’t take long for her to succumb to his…charm?
“I can’t believe Sterling ended up on Rayne’s doorstep. I could tell from her expression that she has no liking for the man.” Lizbeth patted the seat next to her.
Marcus lowered himself to the settee and rested his arm along the back. “The man has been in terrible shape for a couple of years now. I knew him in London, and he was fine until he moved to Bath.”
“I wonder what changed him?”
Marcus cupped her head and laid it on his chest. “Not our concern, my love. How is junior today?”
“Kicking like mad.” She sat up and held her stomach. “I knew it!”
He jumped up, apparently ready to run after the doctor. “What?”
“Unless our babe has four feet, I’ve just been kicked here,” she patted one side of her stomach. “And here.” She patted the other side.
“Twins?” Marcus paled.
“So it seems.” She moved her hand back and forth. “Yes. Twins. I’m sure of it.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “What should I do?”
“Do?” She looked startled. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Something.”
Patting the seat alongside her again, she said, “My love, you’ve already done your part. The rest is up to me.”
Yes, Marcus had done his part. He took a broken woman and made her whole. Made her live again. Her paintings were selling well, and they had a wonderful marriage. Soon there would be a baby—or babies—to complete their family.
She hated to think Mrs. O’Leary had gotten away with what she’d done to her, but even though she never faced any jail time, she was required to sell her boarding house. Soon after that, she left Bath.
But Lizbeth often wondered how different her life would be had she not been fired and later kidnapped. She most likely would never have met Marcus. Things did always happen for a reason.
“They’re kicking again,” she said, holding her stomach.
The Artist and the Rake: The Merry Misfits of Bath - Book Four Page 15