Undressed by the Earl, page 14
part #3 of Secrets in Silk Series
She stopped briefly near her mother. “I can’t find Amelia. I’m going home to see if she’s there. I think someone said she had a headache.” The lie flowed easily, and though Beatrice appeared concerned, her mother gave no protest. “I’ll give our apologies to our hostess and join you.”
No, that wouldn’t do at all. She needed time to speak with Mr. Sinclair.
“It’s all right,” Margaret assured her mother. “She should have told us where she was going, but I imagine she’s fine. I’ll look after her.”
Her mother didn’t appear convinced, and Margaret signaled to her maid to accompany her. She had to move quickly, regardless of her mother’s intentions.
When she reached her carriage, she saw Castledon outside. “Have you heard anything?”
His face was hard, like frosted ice. “According to another driver, the viscount took a coach, and he’d packed baggage. I think he may have taken Amelia somewhere.”
“We have to stop him.”
“He won’t get far,” Castledon agreed. “I promise you that.” There was a steely resolve in his tone, as if he would not stop until she was found. But although she trusted him, she trusted Cain more. The Highlander could find Amelia, no matter where Lisford had taken her.
“I’m going to get someone else to help us,” Margaret insisted. “Someone who knows London well and can help track them down.”
“Sinclair?” the earl guessed.
Her face flushed, but she offered no denial. “Go after her, and Sinclair will follow. He is a good friend of our family’s.”
The earl studied her a moment. “You were never going to agree to my proposal, were you?”
Margaret hesitated, wondering whether to reveal the truth. But then, it hardly mattered now. She faced him and admitted, “Not while Amelia is in love with you.”
He didn’t react at all, but she sensed that her announcement wasn’t a complete surprise. So, her instincts had been correct. There was something between them, though she didn’t know if it was only Amelia who had developed feelings.
Before the earl could say anything, Margaret saw her chance to make a match on her sister’s behalf. “If Lord Lisford travels too far, Amelia will be forced to marry him. Her reputation will be compromised, and she’ll be ruined.”
Lord Castledon held her gaze, as if he knew precisely what she was implying.
“You could help her,” Margaret said quietly. “You said yourself, you need a wife and a mother for your daughter.”
“That wouldn’t be fair to her.”
“And would it have been fair to me?” Margaret countered.
She knew that Lord Castledon’s offer had nothing to do with love or affection and everything to do with keeping his word to his daughter. At least Amelia had the forthright manner where she dared to confront him. And whether either of them would admit it, Margaret had seen the spark between them. There could be something there, if circumstances permitted.
“She needs help, Lord Castledon,” Margaret insisted. “Don’t let her become a victim to the viscount’s schemes.”
The earl said nothing at all, but she’d made her point. Without another word, he climbed into his carriage and disappeared into the night.
Amelia awakened, her mouth feeling as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of fleece. Her head ached, and the world seemed to sway. What had happened? Had she fainted? She couldn’t recall fainting in all her life.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Viscount Lisford seated across from her. She blinked a moment, trying to clear the dream away, but he remained right where her imagination had conjured him. Clearly, she was having an appalling nightmare.
His expression held a blend of relief and terror. “You’re alive. I’m so glad.”
“Was I in danger of dying?” she blurted out. Her voice sounded woozy, not at all like herself.
“No. That wasn’t my intention at all.” He clasped his hands together and glanced outside the window. That was when she realized she was in a carriage.
A carriage that was moving entirely too fast, jostling her against the seat. Which then reminded her that her stomach was also tossing.
“Are you taking me home?” she asked, trying to keep herself from being sick.
He glanced out again, and from his nervousness, she suspected the answer was no.
Her nausea rose up higher, not only from the moving vehicle, but also from fear. “I need you to stop this carriage,” she informed him. “Right now.”
“I—I can’t do that, Miss Andrews.”
“You had better stop it, or I’ll be sick all over your shoes.” Again, her body fought the tossing motion. Had he given her something to make her sleep? Amelia tried to think of when or how.
He had gone white, and as she tried to sit up, the dizziness flowed over her. Her brain was still suffering the effects of whatever illness had struck. “You need to tell me what has happened, Lord Lisford.”
He glanced outside. “I shall, I promise. But we must go a little farther.”
Farther from where? Her eyes widened, and she realized that he had arranged all of this. “Were you trying to kidnap me?”
He wouldn’t meet her gaze, and she realized that yes, that had been his intention. “No, not that,” he said. “I wanted a grand romantic gesture, something that we could tell our children about. We’re eloping together.”
If she had believed he was foolish before, now she was convinced that the man had nothing save cotton batting in his skull. He’d gone utterly mad.
“Let me see if I can understand you,” she said slowly. In her mind, she replayed the events. He’d come to speak with her, offering a glass of lemonade and apologizing profusely for his behavior when he’d stolen a kiss.
After the lemonade, she’d begun to feel odd. He’d taken her arm, escorting her to the ladies’ retiring room, and the next thing she remembered was waking up inside the carriage.
“You gave me something to drink and then brought me here with the intention that we should run away together?”
He looked relieved. “Yes, that’s it exactly. I thought we could go to Scotland and spend some time there after we marry.”
Scotland? Exactly how long had she been unconscious? Amelia tried to look outside the window, but the motion of the coach made her quickly avert her gaze. “You forgot an important detail, Lord Lisford,” she said. He waited for her to continue, and Amelia added, “Normally when a suitor tries a grand romantic gesture like sweeping a woman away to marry her, he asks her first.”
Bewilderment crossed his face. “Well, of course, you were going to say yes. I apologized to you, after all.”
She straightened and forced her stomach to behave itself. He truly believed that, didn’t he? This handsome rake honestly thought that no woman would ever refuse him. How had she ever considered him delicious and the man of her dreams? Right now, he was the man of her nightmares.
“Lord Lisford,” she said calmly. “I ask that you please tell your driver to turn around and take me home. I do not wish to go to Scotland.”
Confusion clouded his face. “Then how are we to marry?”
She wanted to screech at him that she would sooner marry the coachman than him, but she wasn’t entirely certain whether she was safe in his presence. Shouting or making demands might make things worse.
“I believe you, when you say that you wanted a romantic gesture,” she said gently. “But my family will be angry with you. They will not approve of this.”
“They don’t approve of me, I know,” he agreed. “But that is why we should go away together. Once we’re wed, they will have to accept me as your husband.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “My father hasn’t forgotten what you did to Margaret. He won’t allow it to happen a second time.”
The viscount appeared uncomfortable. “In time, he will see that we were meant to be together.”
She gritted her teeth. Did he honestly believe that was true? Exactly how pompous was his opinion of himself?
“How long have we been traveling?” she asked, willing herself to stay calm. There had to be a way out of this.
“Most of the night. We have much farther to go, before we’re safe.”
A frigid chill came over her as she realized the gravity of her situation. If she’d been alone with this man for most of the night, he had well and truly cornered her. Even if she cried off and refused to wed him, her reputation would be in tatters.
For the first time, she let the fear gain a foothold. If she told him no, if she refused him now, he might leave her in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t survive alone with no money or protection.
Her family would be searching for her; there was no doubt of it. But even if they found her, the damage would be done. All of London society would know that she’d been taken by the viscount. If they married, most would overlook it. His prediction that it would become a Grand Romantic Gesture could become a reality.
Only she didn’t want to be married to a man who sincerely believed he was irresistible. She had to tread carefully and do whatever she could to ensure that she didn’t end up stranded.
“You put something in my lemonade, didn’t you?” she said.
“Just a sleeping draught.” He had the grace to look guilty at that. “I was afraid you’d say no when I asked you to come away with me.”
Before she could ask anything else, he continued, “I know I offended you that night in the garden. But I was so overcome by your beauty and charms, I acted without thinking.”
The way you did just now, Amelia thought. The man hadn’t bothered to consider what she wanted—he’d acted only to serve his own needs.
She had to appeal to his pride and somehow make him understand that he’d made a terrible mistake.
“This isn’t the sort of wedding a woman wants,” she said. “We should stop for the night somewhere.”
Which would give her family the chance to find her.
“Your father would murder me for this,” Charles remarked. It was the first sensible thing he’d said.
“And that is why we should turn back now. If you can bring me home before he knows I’m gone—”
“It’s too late for that.” He appeared glum, and he added, “We’ll be married just after we cross the border into Scotland.”
Amelia decided it was time to be frank and hope that he would be reasonable. “As I said before, I don’t want to marry you anymore, Lord Lisford.”
“But you did once,” he said. “I was certain of it.”
Before I knew who you really were, Amelia thought. “If you force me into marriage, you’ll get no dowry,” she said. “If you were trying to gain wealth, it will bring you nothing at all.” She asserted her final point. “If you bring me back now, I promise you, we can make amends.”
But the viscount had gone silent, his gaze fixed on the outside. He ignored her pleas, and Amelia realized that she would have to wait until they stopped.
She closed her eyes, praying that someone would rescue her. In her mind, she envisioned Lord Castledon riding hard, intercepting the coach. He would throw open the door to the carriage and pull her into his strong arms. Her fantasy played out, giving her a thread of hope to cling to.
“Would you like to sit beside me?” the viscount offered. “The night air is cold.” She wasn’t certain if it was his attempt to be courteous or whether he intended to accost her.
“If I move, I’ll likely be sick all over you,” Amelia responded. It was partly the truth, but she didn’t want Lord Lisford anywhere near her.
He grimaced, and she closed her eyes again. Though she was frightened, she had to keep her wits together and find a way out of this mess. Thankfully, the viscount had not laid a hand upon her—possibly because she’d struck him hard the last time he’d attempted to kiss her.
She believed this was about money, more than all else. It was the move of a desperately foolish man, not a villain. As she leaned against the side of the coach, she wondered if anyone was coming to save her.
If not, she would simply have to rescue herself.
Chapter Seven
David hadn’t planned on driving in the middle of the night toward Scotland, of all places. After confirming with several sources that the viscount had been traveling north, he’d paid his driver a large sum to follow the main road. Margaret had promised that she and Cain Sinclair would take an alternate path, so that regardless of which way the viscount had gone, one of them would intercept Amelia.
He hoped to God that the viscount hadn’t hurt Amelia. After what had happened the last time when she had struck out at Lisford, David questioned whether the man had revenge in mind. The thought of her being a victim made him want to tear Lisford apart.
Amelia was an innocent. Impulsive, talkative, and generous to a fault, she didn’t deserve a fate like this—much less being forced into marriage to such a man.
Margaret’s suggestion, that he marry Amelia, weighed upon his mind. It was a solution, yes, but one he didn’t like.
She would brighten your days, he could almost imagine Katherine saying. Christine would grow to love her.
But he didn’t want a wife like Amelia, someone who would drag him out of his solitary existence. He liked being alone, damn it. He liked sleeping alone, without a woman to interfere with his habits. He wanted a wife who would fade into the background, someone who could make herself happy by mothering Christine. Amelia would never do such a thing. She would badger him mercilessly.
And worst of all, he could easily imagine himself sharing her bed. He could picture her gold hair spilling over bare shoulders, her body lithe and inviting. He strongly suspected Amelia would drive him over the edge, until he could hardly remember the sweetness of Katherine’s arms.
She’s no good for me, he told his wife’s ghost.
She needs you, his conscience reminded him. Perhaps now more than ever.
The hours stretched onward, and he tormented himself with thoughts of Amelia weeping. Or worse, being violated.
The rage built up inside him until he longed to kill the viscount. He’d long ago believed that Lisford had straw for brains, but he’d never imagined the man would go this far. Idiocy didn’t begin to cover this foolhardy act.
His fists were clenched, and God above, he hoped they would reach Amelia in time. It didn’t seem possible that they could have gotten too far.
They stopped to change horses, and David went to sit with his driver. He felt certain that they were close now, and at any moment they would find Amelia and the viscount.
But what will you do when you find her? his brain queried. He didn’t know. The right course of action would be to wed her himself. But Amelia had already made it clear that she didn’t consider him a good marital candidate for Margaret. Why, then, would Amelia agree to wed him herself, despite her ruined reputation?
Unless the ton believed that she had, in fact, run off with him and not the viscount.
Ahead, he spied the dim flare of a lantern in the darkness. There. It had to be them. His pulse quickened, and he ordered his driver, “Move alongside the coach.” He needed to see for himself if it was Lisford’s vehicle.
They would be nearly off the road, but there was a straight stretch where they could manage it. David waited until they were parallel to the other driver. “Pull to the side,” he called out to the man.
When the other driver responded by increasing the pace of the horses, David was certain it had to be Lisford’s vehicle. His driver, in turn, sped up until the coaches were both in danger of overturning. David hesitated, judging the speed. If he missed the other coach, he could break his neck in the fall. But then again, if Amelia was inside, she needed him to save her. There was no way to know if Lisford was threatening her, even now. He had no choice but to risk it.
Once the two vehicles were parallel again, he gripped the dashing frame and the seat. The only light gleamed from lanterns hanging on the side of each coach, while below him, the wheels jostled against the ruts in the road. It was madness to jump from a moving coach, for one misstep could mean being crushed beneath the vehicle.
David steeled himself and took a deep breath. Then he braced his hands against the seat and leaped across the space. His hands skidded across the seat irons, and he landed hard against the coachman. The driver lost his balance and barely kept from falling over. Before the man could react, David took command of the reins and forced the coach to stop. The vehicle lurched against the ground, but he brought the horses to a halt.
“Lisford has her, doesn’t he?” he demanded of the driver.
“I only did what I was paid to do,” the man protested, lifting his hands as if to surrender.
Then that was a yes. “Go now, and wait by my driver,” David commanded.
A moment later, the door opened, and he spied Lisford peering out. “Why have we stopped?”
Rage boiled through him at the sight of the man. Because I’m going to beat you senseless.
David climbed down and seized the viscount by his cravat, knocking his head against the coach. “Did you think no one would come after her?”
The viscount’s face paled with fear. He reached up, struggling to free himself, but David wouldn’t release him. Panic laced his voice, and Lisford insisted, “She wanted to marry me!”
Like hell. David followed up with a blow to the man’s jaw, and Lisford crumpled to the ground. The viscount didn’t even have the strength to give a decent fight, which was disappointing. He’d rather hoped the man would exchange blows, giving David a reason to break a rib or two. Instead, he stepped over the unconscious viscount and opened the coach door wider.
Inside, he saw the relieved face of Amelia. He half expected her to begin talking at a rapid pace, babbling her thanks or sobbing.
