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Authors: Olivia Drake

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Victorian

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BOOK: Abducted by a Prince
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Ellie wasn’t surprised. The truth would matter little to her uncle. In his critical eyes, it wouldn’t change the fact that she’d spent more than a week in the company of the Demon Prince. Nevertheless, she felt pained to know that her family had cut her off while knowing that the circumstances had not been her fault.

Had her uncle even offered to provide her funds on which to live? It didn’t matter.

She met Lady Milford’s gaze. “It’s quite all right, since I hadn’t planned to return there, anyway. Mr. Burke has agreed to compensate me for the damage to my reputation. He’s promised me a cottage in the country and a stipend on which to live. I need nothing more.”

And she would be happy to embark on a new life as an independent woman, Ellie told herself. Once she was settled in, and she could concentrate on her illustrations, then this awful tension in her bosom would vanish. She would be content and cheerful again, and not feel as if she had lost everything.

Lady Milford rose from her chair and came to sit on the bench, her kid-gloved hands taking hold of Ellie’s. “My dear, I don’t believe you
do
understand. All of society is convinced that you ran off with the Demon Prince and are now living in sin with him. Even if the truth comes out, that you were abducted against your will, it won’t matter to the gossips. You will still be branded a fallen woman in their eyes.”

“Then I’ll live somewhere far away from London. I assure you, their ill opinion matters nothing to me.”

“But it
does
matter to your family. They, too, have been tainted by this scandal.”

“Walt is to blame for that,” Damien snapped. “He lied about Ellie—Miss Stratham. He ought to have done as I told him. He should have said that she’d been called out of town to care for a sick friend. Then no one would have questioned her absence.”

“May I remind you, sir,” Lady Milford said sternly, “that it was
your
dastardly plot that started this unfortunate chain of events. Now, not only has Miss Stratham’s good name been ruined, but other innocent parties have been harmed as well.”

Damien made no reply. He stared in disgruntled silence at her.

Lady Milford turned her attention back to Ellie. “Fair or not, the ton believes that you, Pennington’s niece, are now living in wicked debauchery with a scoundrel. Because of all the gossip, the earl has spoken of postponing Lady Beatrice’s debut until next year.”

Ellie felt a twinge of sympathy to imagine how desolate her cousin would be. Beatrice’s entire existence revolved around preparing for her first ball, purchasing a new wardrobe, and plotting how to attract a titled husband. But how was that Ellie’s concern anymore? “I’m sorry, my lady. I know how very much she was looking forward to her first season. Yet I cannot see how it can be helped.”

“Ah, but there
is
a way to salvage matters,” Lady Milford said sagely. “Perhaps the
only
way.”

She rose to her feet and beckoned to the stoop-shouldered old gentleman. He left his stool and shuffled forward, stopping in front of Ellie and giving her a respectful nod.

Lady Milford introduced him. “Miss Stratham, I should like you to meet the Reverend Mr. Ferguson. He will officiate over your marriage to Mr. Burke.”

 

Chapter 20

From her seat on the bench, Ellie stared up at the weathered features of the elderly gentleman. His pale blue eyes held a kindly look. He extended his knobby fingers to her in greeting.

But she could not lift her own hand to shake his. A paralysis held her body in place as if she were trapped in a nightmare. She desperately wanted to run, yet her limbs refused to move. Her heart thudded so hard against her rib cage that she felt light-headed.

She must have misheard.
Reverend Mr. Ferguson
 …
to officiate over your marriage
 …

She glanced up at Damien. His hard-edged face was forbidding, his mouth a thin slash. There was no surprise in his expression. He must have already been told of the minister’s purpose in being here. And his displeasure could not have been clearer.

Yet he offered no protest.

Her gaze shifted to Lady Milford, who stood beside her, and then back at the minister. He had reached inside his dark coat and brought forth a small black prayer book. To perform the marriage service.

A second shock reverberated through Ellie. This was Scotland. There were no banns to be read, no special license to be procured, no waiting period in which to talk sense into Lady Milford.

The ceremony could be conducted at once. Right now.

Fright energized her. Ellie jumped up from the bench, swaying slightly as she caught her balance. “No,” she whispered, then much louder,
“No!”

The word echoed off the stone walls of the great hall.

With sharp footfalls, Damien closed the distance between himself and Lady Milford. He glared down into her patrician face. “There is your answer, my lady. Your interference is entirely unnecessary. Miss Stratham will not be harmed by this scandal so long as she moves far away from London gossips. As to her family, perhaps they deserve to suffer for their ill treatment of her.”

“And what of
your
family?” Lady Milford murmured. “What of Lily? Does
she
deserve to suffer?”

Damien went very still. His face looked like granite. In a tautly soft voice, he stated, “You will leave her out of this. She is none of your concern.”

The exchange bewildered Ellie. It was as if she’d fallen asleep at a play and then awakened in the middle of another scene. “Who is Lily?”

The two of them paid her no heed. They continued to stare at each other, Lady Milford in that regal manner of a queen, Damien tense and grim-faced.

“Lily
is
involved whether you like it or not,” Lady Milford told him. “She will be tainted by your actions. It is one thing to own a gaming club frequented by gentlemen, to carry on discreet affairs, even to seduce an impoverished lady before deigning to wed her. But it is quite another matter entirely for people to whisper that you’ve lured a
second
innocent lady into sin—this time, without offering her the benefits of marriage.”

He made a sharp move of his hand. “Nonsense. It’ll all blow over eventually. There will be no permanent harm done.”

“Can you be so certain of that? Are you willing to risk your daughter’s future on a prideful whim?”

Ellie could not believe what she was hearing. She tried to put their words together in different ways. But they all came out to the same, inescapable conclusion. “Damien … you have a
daughter
?”

His steely gaze cut over to her. “Yes. But she’s merely six years of age. So it’s ludicrous to suggest that this incident will
taint
her.”

Feeling an odd detachment, Ellie studied the boldly sculpted angles of his face. She had thought—believed—that she’d come to know him well in the space of a few days together. They had laughed and talked and traded details about their lives. They had lain naked together and had shared intimate caresses. But all the while, he had kept a secret from her. He had not told her that he had a
daughter
.

What else didn’t she know about him?

He was suddenly a stranger to her again. A cold, aloof man that she had never truly known. The Demon Prince.

Lady Milford turned to place her hand on Ellie’s arm. “My dear, I know all of this has come as a shock. But you must consider what is best for all parties. The scandal can be greatly diminished by portraying your disappearance with Mr. Burke as an elopement. Then society will come to view it in a romantic light, and people will be more forgiving. That is why the only sensible solution for both of you is marriage—”

Damien and Ellie both interrupted at once.

“No, you’re wrong,” he began.

“I’d sooner wed a … a filthy
rat
.”

Picking up her skirts, Ellie took off at a dash. She couldn’t remain in the great hall for a single moment longer. She refused to let herself be coerced into bondage to Damien Burke. The lump in her throat grew larger. She would never surrender her independence, especially not to a man of his ilk, a gambler and a rogue.

Yanking open the door, Ellie nearly collided with someone. It was Finn, carrying a large wooden tray. The cups and cutlery rattled as he quickly straightened his load to keep it steady. She smelled a whiff of freshly baked scones and fruit jam.

The servant’s blue eyes twinkled at her. They seemed to say that he knew in whose bed the master had spent the night. “I’ve brung tea, milady. But why are ye leavin’…?”

Ellie didn’t stay to hear the rest. Pushing past him, she hurried out into the cold sunshine, her quick steps swiftly carrying her through the large courtyard of the castle. Her half-boots splashed in the puddles. The icy water and snow splattered her stockinged legs as she ran toward the stone archway that led to her tower bedroom.

No sooner had she entered the shadowed passage than she paused, her thoughts awhirl. The last place she wanted to go was her own chamber, where the sight of the tumbled bedsheets would bring back vivid memories of Damien and their activities of the previous night. Nothing could be more abhorrent. She felt sickened by her own naïveté in thinking they were close friends. And she was aghast at the notion of being obliged to speak her vows to such a man.

She turned blindly down another passage. There had to be somewhere to hide. To stay out of sight until they all went away, Lady Milford, the minister, Damien, even the MacNabs. It would be preferable to starve to death, or die of cold, than to give up her dreams in order to become the wife of a scoundrel.

And a stepmother. Damien had a daughter. Lily. A little girl whom he hadn’t bothered to mention. Granted, maybe the opportunity had not arisen …

Or maybe it had.

On the day he’d learned about her illustrated book, he had made the comment that young children liked shorter stories.
What can you know about children?
she’d scoffed.
You, who spend your time playing cards and wagering on dice at your gambling den?

Damien had glanced away, his expression brooding. He’d had the chance right then and there to tell her … but he hadn’t done so.

And why should he have? He was merely her abductor. Nothing more. She had been utterly imprudent to forget that.

Ellie took a ragged breath as the knot in her chest pulled tighter. The castle felt like a prison, and she longed to be gone from here, never to think of him again. She wanted to be off this island without delay.

The rowboat.

Belatedly, she realized that the beach should have been her destination. She could tell the oarsman that Lady Milford had dispatched her on important business in town and that he must take her there straightaway. Yes. By the time everyone finished their tea, she could be disembarking at the dock and seeking a way back to London …

Intent on the new scheme, Ellie spun around. But an alarming sight met her eyes. Damien strode toward her down the passageway, the greatcoat flapping around his long legs. The sound of his booted footsteps had failed to penetrate her stupor until this moment. His face was an austere mask, cruelly handsome and sternly resolute.

In a panic, she ran in the opposite direction. It was a foolish act, for he easily chased her down and caught hold of her arm to bring her to an enforced halt. “Ellie, wait.”

She whirled toward him. With both hands, she shoved hard at the wall of his chest. “Go away! I won’t marry you!”

He took a step backward, his palms up. “Good God, I should hope not. I would make a terrible husband. Do you think I’m here to persuade you otherwise? You may rest your mind on the matter.”

“Then why did you follow me?”

“Because I had no wish to remain in Lady Milford’s company, either. The woman is a blasted busybody, just as she’s always been.”

“Always been?”

“This isn’t the first time she’s meddled in my life. A long time ago, she warned me to stay away from Veronica.”

Ellie was intrigued in spite of herself. He looked moody and livid—exactly the way she felt, too. “Are you saying that Lady Milford forced you to marry back then, as well?”

“No. Her warning came
before
I seduced Veronica.” He gave Ellie a belligerent stare. “But just so you know, I’m not sorry I didn’t listen to Lady Milford that time. I have no regrets. If not for my misdeeds, I wouldn’t have Lily.”

Ellie matched his glare. “Ah, yes. Your daughter. The one you’ve abandoned for more than a week while you carried out your abduction of me.”

His scowl turned thunderous. “Are you accusing me of neglect? I left Lily in the excellent care of her governess and nursemaid, along with a full staff of loyal servants.”

“And what if it had been my uncle in that rowboat—with an officer of the law? What if you’d been arrested for kidnapping me? Who would have watched over Lily if her father had been imprisoned?”

Damien glanced away. Combing his fingers through his hair, he gave her a surly look. “If I’d captured Lady Beatrice according to plan, Pennington would have moved heaven and earth to hide the scandal. There would never have been the slightest danger of involving the police. But … your point is taken. I should have considered all possibilities.”

Ellie refused to be mollified. “Doesn’t Lily have relatives on her mother’s side? Surely she would be better off in the care of family.”

“They disapproved of Veronica’s marriage and wanted nothing to do with her daughter, either. I’m afraid that Lily has only me.” He gave Ellie a piercing stare, then began pacing back and forth in the narrow corridor, the click of his heels echoing off the stone walls. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her. It’s just … habit, I suppose. I’ve done my best to protect Lily, to safeguard her from gossip. She lives in my house in Kensington, and I’ve a strict rule about never inviting any guests there. Most people don’t even know she exists.”

“Yet Lady Milford knew.”

“Devil take that woman! She’s the sort who always has her ear to the ground for tittle-tattle. But I will
not
allow her to interfere in my life. Nor will I permit her to use my daughter as a weapon to control me.”

BOOK: Abducted by a Prince
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