Pursued By The Viscount, page 10
Rachel was not slowly slipping away from him. She had removed herself in seconds and no longer bore any resemblance to the woman who had made love with him so enthusiastically such a short time ago. Her eyes were glacial, her expression cold, her bearing one of stiff dignity, despite still being dressed only in her robe.
She seemed to become aware of that lack of clothing at the same time he did. “I need to dress now and then go down to see if there is anything Becky—William’s nursemaid,” she supplied in answer to Lucien’s frown, “forgot to mention. You found your way in, so I am sure you can find your way out again.” She strode into the adjoining dressing room and closed the door behind her.
Letting Lucien know he was well and truly dismissed.
An occurrence that had not happened too many times in his life, he acknowledged ruefully.
But to be expected when Rachel loved her son so deeply, she had for years willingly withstood any amount of Shaw’s abuse in order to ensure her son’s continued happiness.
Lucien’s own mother’s love for him had been, and continued to be, so offhand, Lucien could only admire Rachel all the more for loving her son so much that nothing and no one else mattered.
In the meantime, he was dismissed.
He also had a promise to keep.
Rachel felt as if the world had gone mad and she stood at its center, her emotions as numb as her body as everything swirled about her too fast for her to comprehend.
William had been missing for three hours now, and she was no further forward in knowing where he had gone or if Stanforth really had taken him. There had been no note delivered, making demands. Only silence.
“Brooketon and Blackmoor will find him.” Thea reached out to give Rachel’s hand a comforting squeeze.
The other woman had arrived an hour or so ago. Apparently, Lucien had called at Blackmoor House and explained the situation, and then asked her to go and sit with Rachel.
Rachel felt grateful to him for his thoughtfulness, and Thea’s presence was welcome, as was the assistance of her husband the duke in the search for William. But Rachel would not feel complete again until she had William back in her arms. Something no one, not Thea or even the arrogant Brooketon and Blackmoor, could guarantee.
She stood restlessly. “I should be doing something. Out looking for William myself. Something,” she cried out in her anguish.
“I am sure we will hear word soon.”
Thea’s soothing tone had little or no effect on Rachel’s agitation. “Did Lucien tell you of Stanforth’s…connection to this family?”
“He felt he must, in order to explain the situation properly.” Thea frowned. “I am sorry for how you must have suffered all these years.”
“I am not concerned for myself,” Rachel dismissed. “I truly believe that Stanforth’s grief over the death of his lover has addled his brain.” She wrung her hands together. “He was so pleased at how much William resembled James. Looked at him as if he were his son. Stanforth has been missing since yesterday. What if he has been making arrangements to take William out of the country? If he disappears to the Continent with him?” She voiced her worst fear.
“Then Brooketon and my husband will find out where he has gone and follow him there,” Thea said simply. “There is nowhere he can go with William that they will not find him.”
Rachel wished she had Thea’s confidence. Oh, not in Lucien and Blackmoor’s ability to find William. Eventually. But that might take weeks, months, if Stanforth had the means to avoid detection. She did not like to think of how poor William might have suffered by then. How he might come to believe, no doubt with Stanforth’s assistance, that she had abandoned him to the guardianship of that monster.
If enough time elapsed, William might be persuaded into forgetting about her completely.
She turned to the doorway as a knock preceded Alder’s appearance. He held a familiar silver tray in his hand, a letter sitting on top of it.
Rachel hurried over to snatch up the letter, quickly breaking the seal to read its content before informing Thea, “Lucien says Stanforth is traveling to Dover.”
“What is Lady Shaw to you, Brooke?”
Lucien scowled across Blackmoor’s carriage at the other man seated opposite him as the two of them traveled to the seaport where one of Lucien’s men had learned Stanforth kept his own private yacht.
“Rachel is my lover.” Lucien could see no point in prevaricating, even in a belated attempt to protect Rachel’s reputation. His involvement in the search for William Shaw was clear indication the two of them were not merely acquaintances.
The other man nodded. “Thea told me earlier today she thought as much.”
“You disapprove?”
Blackmoor’s brows rose. “It is not for me to approve or disapprove of anything you do. Or Lady Shaw either, for that matter.”
Lucien’s mouth twisted wryly. “That does not prevent you from doing so.”
“As it happens, I do not disapprove.” Blackmoor settled more comfortably into his seat. “My own behavior toward Thea before our marriage was less than proper. Besides, I never liked Shaw, or the manner in which he talked down to his young wife in public. It was indication that his treatment of her in private would be far worse.”
“It was,” Lucien confirmed grimly. “Much worse.”
“Disgusting behavior.” Blackmoor’s mouth thinned. “Thea enjoys a little…firm handling, but I would never do anything to hurt her. She is my life. Any man who hurts a woman is not deserving of a wife, let alone one as lovely as Lady Shaw.” He raised his brows as Lucien failed to hold back a fond smile of remembrance. “I do not recall saying anything— Ah.” He gave a rueful smile. “Lady Shaw is also fond of…firm handling.”
“But not the brutality she received from her husband.” Lucien scowled.
Blackmoor’s expression softened. “It is telling that, despite her unhappy marriage, she feels comfortable enough with you to allow such liberties.”
Rachel’s trust in him not to harm her was one of the things that gave Lucien hope their affair was not over. Rachel’s demeanor had been so very chilling earlier, and this business of Stanforth kidnapping her beloved son had truly shaken her. As it was meant to do.
Perhaps if he could return William to Rachel quickly and unharmed, not too much damage would have been done and she would not choose to once again retreat from the world. From him.
Try as he might, Lucien could not rid himself of his last image of Rachel. Ashen faced, and yet possessed of a regal dignity. A thin façade that would surely crumble, as Rachel herself would crumble, if anything happened to her beloved son.
It was his responsibility to ensure that did not happen.
Whatever happened after that in regard to Rachel and himself would be Rachel’s decision and not Lucien’s. She had already known too much pain and suffering in her life. He could not add to it if she decided she did not wish to see him again.
But first he had to find William and see him safely returned to his mother.
And deal with Stanforth once and for all.
“You do not think, once they have found Stanforth, they would do anything…silly, do you?” Rachel frowned across at Thea, the other woman having announced she would be remaining at Shaw House until the gentlemen returned. A bedchamber had already been prepared for her.
“Personally, I hope one or both of them gives him a good thrashing,” Thea answered calmly.
“Thea!”
“I am a gentle soul, as you know Rachel, but Stanforth’s behavior is deserving of that thrashing and more. To take your child from you…” She shuddered. “Blackmoor will be feeling particularly sensitive in that direction at the moment. As am I. I am with child,” she confided gently at Rachel’s questioning glance.
“Oh, Thea, that is marvelous news!” Rachel was truly pleased for her friend. Thea had been married before, but there had been no children in that marriage, and Blackmoor’s daughter was fully grown. “You must both be so pleased.” She stood up to cross the room and hug the other woman.
“We are. I-It does not seem right for us to be so happy when… I am so sorry about William, Rachel.” Tears glistened in Thea’s eyes.
“The two are not related, Thea,” Rachel assured her. “You are hoping for a boy? An heir for the dukedom?”
“We are hoping only for a healthy child. It does not matter if it is a boy or a girl. I am sure there will be many more children, and no doubt one of them will be a boy,” she added ruefully.
Rachel gave a gurgle of laughter—something she would not have believed possible, in the circumstances—at the bashful expression on Thea’s face. “You deserve your happiness with Blackmoor, Thea.”
“And you and Brooketon?”
“We hardly know each other.” She shrugged. “A physical attraction cannot last.”
“Is that all it is?”
“On Brooketon’s part, certainly.”
“And your own?”
She sighed. “At the moment, I cannot think beyond having William safely returned to me.”
“Of course not,” Thea acknowledged briskly. “That was insensitive of me.”
“When do you think we might hear from the men again?”
“First they have to travel to Dover, or they may possibly catch up with Stanforth along the way. He cannot be that far ahead, and I am sure Blackmoor will have insisted on using his own coach and four. Once they have located Stanforth and William, then… I am sure Blackmoor will send word some time tomorrow,” Thea comforted as Rachel felt herself becoming more and more despondent.
How could she possibly survive until tomorrow merely to hear word, let alone for William’s safe return?
What other choice did she have but to wait and survive?
“I cannot sit here doing nothing,” she announced as she straightened decisively. “I appreciate you cannot travel far in your condition, Thea, but I have to go to Dover too.”
“At night and in the dark?” The other woman gave an alarmed glance out the window, where darkness shrouded the garden. “It is too dangerous, Rachel. At least wait until the morning.”
“No.” Having made the decision, she was now determined to leave as soon as her carriage could be made ready to travel.
“Brooketon will not approve.”
“Brooketon will understand one day when he has children of his own.” Rachel felt as if the heavy weight in her chest had lifted a little at this decisive action. “If I travel through the night, I may even catch up with the men before they reach Dover, and we can confront Stanforth together.”
And she could have her darling William back in her arms once again.
Chapter 13
“You have a visitor, Brooke.”
Lucien forced open one eye to glare up at Blackmoor. The other man stood beside his bed in what could only be described as a second-rate inn near the seaport of Dover.
They had arrived in the early hours of the morning, having changed horses twice during the journey so as to arrive as quickly as possible. Finding Stanforth’s yacht still moored in the harbor, and as yet unmanned, Blackmoor had left one of his grooms to keep watch, with instructions to inform them at the inn immediately if the other man made an appearance.
The aches and pains in Lucien’s body as he pulled himself up to sit back against the pillows told him the hours of jarring coach travel on top of a morning in bed with Rachel had taken their toll. “Stanforth?”
“He would hardly be paying you a visit,” Blackmoor drawled. “You may come in now, Lady Shaw,” he called out, but kept his gaze firmly fixed on Lucien. “Evans informed her of our whereabouts when she arrived at the harbor.”
Rachel here? But how?
“Her stubbornness and determination are only two of the reasons you want her,” Blackmoor murmured so that only Lucien could hear.
Lucien’s frowning gaze fixed on the woman now standing in the doorway of the bedchamber. Rachel. Looking slightly the worse for wear, after no doubt traveling through the night to get here. Her hair was slightly bedraggled, her face pale and drawn, in all likelihood from both worry and lack of sleep. But it was most definitely Rachel.
“They might be two of the reasons I want her,” he answered loudly enough that Rachel could hear his answer too. “But that does not mean she is not deserving of a sound spanking as a result of this latest misdemeanor.”
“I believe that is my cue to go down and finish my breakfast,” Blackmoor announced dryly. “Do both join me when you have…settled the matter. To the satisfaction of both of you, it is to be hoped.” He gave Rachel a formal bow as she moved aside to allow him to leave the bedchamber, stepping out into the hallway to close the door.
Leaving a resounding and tense silence behind him.
A silence Rachel eventually broke. “I could not sit in London and do nothing.”
Lucien’s eyes narrowed as she lifted her chin with the same defiance as she had spoken. “When I am finished with you, I guarantee you will not be able to sit anywhere! What on earth did you think you were about, doing something so dangerous as to travel here through the night?” He threw back the bedcovers, totally unconcerned with his own nakedness as he stood. There was no reason for him to be when this woman knew every inch of him intimately.
Even so, Rachel quickly averted her gaze. She might have seen Lucien completely naked in her bedchamber as recently as yesterday, but that did not mean she was comfortable doing the same in the bedchamber of a public inn. It seemed especially shocking when she was completely dressed in her bonnet, traveling gown, and cloak.
Nor did she intend Lucien to know how treacherous her journey to Dover in the darkness of night had really been. So much so, her nervous coachman had suggested stopping for the night on both occasions they had changed the horses. A suggestion Rachel had both times refused. But it had been a long and uncomfortable journey, and she was exhausted from worry over William and the constant jolting of the carriage.
“Blackmoor’s groom informed me that Stanforth has not yet reached Dover?” She opted for a safer subject than Lucien’s obvious displeasure at her actions.
“We are not discussing Stanforth.” Lucien crossed the room with the silent stealth of a predator stalking its prey, his cock semihard between his legs.
“But—”
“The matter is well in hand, and the groom will inform us the minute he arrives in Dover,” Lucien dismissed. “Did you travel here alone?”
“I— It was—” Rachel could not think clearly with Lucien standing naked mere inches away, his cock becoming longer and thicker by the second. In arousal or anger? “Could you put some clothes on?” She winced her discomfort.
“No.” Lucien scowled at her. “I asked if you traveled alone?”
Rachel stepped toward the window, only to come to an abrupt halt as Lucien wrapped an implacable hand about her wrist.
“Did you travel to Dover alone?”
“Thea could not come with me because she is— Damn, I should have offered Blackmoor my congratulations.” She frowned at the oversight. “It is not safe for Thea to travel so far in her delicate condition.”
“Your maid?”
“You did not bring your valet with you,” she came back defensively.
“I left in too much of a hurry to do so.”
“As did I.” She attempted to free her wrist, to no avail. Lucien’s fingers tightened rather than loosened their grip. “I am not expecting to stay long in Dover. Will hopefully be on my way back to London with William no later than this afternoon.”
“You are avoiding answering my question directly, madam!” Lucien spoke through gritted teeth and clenched jaw. “Or perhaps your avoidance of a reply is the answer?”
“Because, as I told you from the beginning, I will not be answerable to you or any man!” Rachel’s own anger rose to meet his. “I am grateful to both you and Blackmoor for aiding me in this way. But our own previous intimacy… It does not give you the right to decide or dictate any of my own actions.”
Lucien released her wrist as if stung by the touch.
Rachel’s anger faded as quickly as it had risen. “Lucien—”
“You are quite correct.” He nodded stiffly as he turned to sit on the side of the bed and pull on his pantaloons, his expression that of the grimly forbidding man she had initially visited at his home to ask for his assistance. “I suggest you go downstairs and join Blackmoor for breakfast while I finish dressing.”
Rachel took that for the cold dismissal it was obviously meant to be, and quietly left the bedchamber.
She was thoroughly miserable as the landlord of the inn showed her into the private parlor where Blackmoor was eating his breakfast. She did not know Blackmoor very well, but Thea adored him, which was recommendation enough. Besides which, he had left his pregnant wife in London in order to assist Rachel.
“Ah.” He put aside the newspaper he had been reading to look at her questioningly as he began to rise.
“Please, do not get up,” Rachel insisted as she removed her bonnet and cloak before sitting down at the table to pour herself a cup of tea from the pot.
“Brooke is not in a forgiving mood?”
Rachel sighed deeply. “Lucien is currently too displeased with me to listen to reason. He says he will join us shortly.” She took a sip of the reviving brew. “Thea was in good health when I left London.”
Blackmoor’s austere features softened at the mention of his wife. “She has told you our good news?”
“I am so happy for you both.”
He nodded, pausing for several seconds before speaking. “Do you know anything of Brooke’s family?”
Rachel frowned at the abrupt change of subject. “You are referring to his parents, the Earl and Countess of Stonewell?”
The duke nodded. “The countess’s behavior has always been…less than discreet. It has caused Brooke much embarrassment over the years.”
She carefully replaced her cup on the saucer. “Are you saying my having traveled alone to Dover has somehow also caused him embarrassment?” She had heard the gossip in Society over the years of the Countess of Stonewell’s many lovers. She could only imagine the awkwardness and distress that would have caused her husband and son.
