Desires of a Baron (7 page)

“Giles?”

He tried to swallow the unease in his throat, but couldn’t. “The woman.”

A vertical line formed between his mother’s eyes. “What woman?”

“
With Simon.”

“
You mean Isabelle Knight?”

Giles shook his head vigorously. “No. Lucy Whitaker.”

“Who?”

A sound of vexation ripped from his throat. Why couldn’t she understand him?

“Calm down, Giles,” his mother said, placing her hand on his forearm.

He shook it off as if her touch burned. “Don’t. I don’t like it.”

She backed away as if he’d stuck her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” She smoothed her skirts. “I won’t touch you again.”

It wasn’t being touched he didn’t like. It was— It was— He shook his head to dispel the thought he knew wouldn’t form completely until it didn’t matter anymore.

“Tell me what you need, Giles?”

“
I need to talk to her.”

“
All right. Who?”

“
The woman with Simon,” he practically bellowed in frustration.

“
Simon didn’t have anyone with him when he returned,” she said calmly as if suddenly she understood everything.

“
He didn’t?”

She shook her head. “When I returned from Telford yesterday he told me a little of what happened, but he never mentioned a woman, Giles, and I mean that.” She blinked her eyes rapidly as if she were trying to keep from crying. “Thank you for your kindness. I know the two of you don’t get along, but I was hoping—”

“No,” Giles cut in. “He doesn’t like me.”

“
That’s not true,” his mother said immediately. “He just needs time.”

Giles doubted that and just shrugged in response. It didn’t bother him that Simon didn’t care for him.

“Would you like to join us for dinner on Friday night?”

No, he wouldn’t. “No, thank you.”

She dropped her hands to her sides and let out a deep breath. “I’m trying, Giles. I know you haven’t had an easy time of it and that’s partly my fault, but would you please give me a chance?”

“
A chance?” A chance for what? To hurt him again? To manipulate him some more? To use his position for her gain? He took another step back. “No.”

She swiped at the tears that had slipped from her blue eyes. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more help in your search for Miss Whitaker,” she said, her voice uneven. “Simon never spoke of her, but if you’d like to ask him if he knows of her whereabouts he’s recovering over at my house.”

Giles frowned. “That won’t be necessary.” Surely, if Simon had indeed brought her back, his mother would have known of her existence since Simon was staying with her.

Then, without another word, because there was nothing more to say to her, Giles spun on his heel and left the lending library.

Chapter Ten

Lucy wrung her hands together and looked around the almost empty parlor. There wasn’t much left of their meager belongings. Just the dining table and chairs and a faded, threadbare settee she’d found behind the bakery a year ago. It couldn’t possibly be worth more than a half penny, but that’d be a half penny they could use.

“
Why do we have to move to York?” Seth demanded of her, his face red and angry.

Lucy’s heart clenched and anger, mostly directed at herself, bubbled up inside of her. “We’re going to start over somewhere we’ve never been,” she said. “It’ll be fun like one of those adventures you like to read about.”

Seth stared at her, unmoved. “I don’t understand it. Can’t you find another post in town or go to London and work for Lady Norcourt?”

“
No,” she said a little more sharply than she’d meant to. But the truth was, every business owner she’d gone to seek employment from was only interested in offering her one type of employment. And she wasn’t interested in becoming
that
kind of woman. Nor did she want to go to London and work for Lady Norcourt.

“
I don’t understand why you won’t marry Mr. Appleton.”

“
Other than the fact he hasn’t asked?” Lucy said sarcastically.

Seth plopped down on the threadbare settee. “So if he asked—”

“No,” she snapped. She rubbed her hands over her face. “Seth, I’ve already told you, gentlemen like Mr. Appleton do not marry women like me.”

“
I think he might. He said he thought you were fetching.”

She was sure he did. “While that is the finest compliment a lady could ask for, that does not mean he wishes to marry me.”

“It could,” Seth said, oblivious to her previous sarcasm.

Lucy sighed. “I know you like him, but it’d be better if you stopped thinking about him.” She swallowed and screwed up her courage. “Gentlemen like him, young, handsome, wealthy, they see women like me as amusements. Not as wives.”

“Amusements?”

Lucy groaned. As much as she didn’t want to prevail upon Paul, Sam’s brother, for support, she might have to bring herself to ask him to explain the things to Seth that she couldn’t. Heat crept up her neck. No. Too much had passed between the three of them that she could never ask that of him. “Seth, I won’t discuss this with you any further. You are not to ever mention Mr. Appleton to me again, do you understand?”

Seth jumped up from the settee. “No, I don’t understand,” he said as he fought back the tears. “I don’t understand you at all and I never will.” Then, without allowing her a chance to explain, he ran from the house, slamming the door as he went.

Lucy started after him as he ran. But she couldn’t keep up and fell to her knees on the ground, silent sobs wracking her body. “I’m trying, Seth,” she cried out quietly into the setting sun. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Which was ridiculous. She was the one who’d created this mess. Well, not just her, there was a
he
involved, too. But she should have known better. That familiar bitter taste that always accompanied thoughts of
him
filled her mouth, making her want to act most unladylike and spit. Which was probably fine since she wasn’t a lady in any sense of the word. Instead, she rose to her feet and went back to her house. Seth would come back soon enough. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten angry with her and run off. He’d come back.

Twenty minutes later there was a swift,
bang, bang, bang
at her front door. Lucy stood from where she was packing their remaining clothes into the one trunk they’d have to share with all the personal belongings they’d be able to keep.

“
Hello,” she said, opening the door a couple of inches.

Two men were standing outside, both leering at her. She shuddered. The shorter one, Mr. Bronson, she recognized right away. He worked in the livery down the street from the bakery where she’d worked.

“I hear ye have a table,” Mr. Bronson said.

“
Yes, most people do.” Her grip on the interior doorknob tightened. She had no desire to let them inside her home.

“
I hear it’s for sale,” he continued.

“
Not anymore,” she said; then quickly shut the door and slid the lock.

Loud, raucous laughter filled the air. “Come now, Miss Whitaker, we just want to have a quick look-see at it.”

She grimaced. “No. It’s not for sale.”

“
We’ll pay a more than fair price,” the other man said. His voice sent a shiver down her spine. “We just want to test the sturdiness of it first.”

More drunken laughter ensued.

Panic built in Lucy’s chest. Perhaps selling her things had been a mistake. Just one more to a long list of many she’d made, she reckoned.

When their laughter died, their shouts began.

“We intend to pay,” one slurred. “We have enough coins.”

Coins jingled. Then more earnest banging began. After a minute, one of them called out to her again.

“Either you can let us in or we’ll come in on our own. But if we have to come in on our own, we might not see to pay you as well.”

Less than a second later, the unmistakable sound of glass shattering rent the air. Glass fell to the wooden floor next to her foot in a cascade of
clinks
. Lucy dashed to the back of the house. She had to get away and her best chance was to climb out the bedroom window.

Just then, there was a loud crashing sound and the cottage shook. Lucy closed the bedroom door and slid the lock. It wouldn’t keep them out entirely, but it might slow them down just enough to afford her a few extra seconds to get away from here and find Seth.

She froze. Find Seth. She had an idea of where he was: the Old Elm tree. But she wasn’t positive. Had these men already found him? Had they hurt him? She’d never forgive herself if anything had happened to her son. Trying to push thoughts of him in pain out of her mind, she unlatched the window and tried to lift it up. It wouldn’t budge. She tightened her grip and used all the muscles she possessed. It didn’t move and the wooden door behind her splintered and came crashing open.

“
There ye are,” said the man she didn’t recognize. Even cloaked in shadows he looked fierce. He reached for her and grabbed onto the top of her pale blue dress, then yanked her toward him. “Yer a feisty one.” He clucked his tongue. “I like that.”

All fight left her body instantly. It was enough that he had her where he wanted her and he would have no resistance in getting his way. The last thing she wanted to give him was any further satisfaction about it. If he enjoyed it when those who he attacked fought and screamed and tried to break loose, she wouldn’t.

“Hmm, docile as a church mousie, are ye now?” he mused, spraying her with his spittle on every word.

She didn’t answer, which seemed to upset him.

“I think I know wot would put that spark back in yer eye.” Then, a second later, he grabbed onto her hair and dragged her to the parlor.

Her heart nearly burst out of her chest.
Seth.
Mr. Bronson was holding onto him in such a way that Seth stood motionless with his arm pinned behind his back.

“
Don’t move, boy,” Mr. Bronson sneered, a self-satisfied smile on his lips. “We’re gwine shew you wot women like yer ma are good fer.”

Mr. Bronson must have tightened his grip or Seth must have realized that Lucy was about to be hurt because tears started to stream down his cheeks.
“No!”

Lucy shook her head. “Let him go. I’ll do whatever it is you want, just let him go.”

“I don’t think so,” the stranger said, tightening his grip on Lucy. “I think ye behave much better while he’s here.” He reached forward to grab her breast and she smacked his hand away, making him laugh. “Yes, I do believe I like this better now. The boy will get to see what you really are and I’ll get to have a far more amusing time demonstrating it.”

“
Leave her alone,” Seth shouted, kicking backwards at Mr. Bronson’s legs.

The men just laughed at his efforts.

Lucy ached for him all over again. Was what they were doing to her in front of him not bad enough, must they mock him, too? She fisted her hand and swung at the man standing nearest her, hoping to catch him off guard, but he was farther away than she thought and instead of hitting him where she’d intended, she hit just off to the side of his groin.

He instantly sobered and tightened his hold on her hair. “You’ll pay for that,” he growled as he flung her against the stone wall where she hit her head then crumpled to the floor.

Seth shouted something and might have struggled, but Lucy wasn’t sure since she couldn’t see him through the sudden burst of stars and shapes that filled her vision when her head hit the wall.

A second later two firm hands were on her breasts trying to pull her to a standing position. She tried to fight, but felt powerless against him and her screams and cries mingled with the men’s laughter.

Hysteria filled her at the painful chaos that surrounded her. She wanted to be free of this man and make sure her son was safe.

But she couldn’t get free and the more she struggled, the more powerless she became against his strong grip. She was only vaguely aware that he’d ripped the bodice of her gown as she tried to catch a glimpse of Seth as he still fought to get free of his captor’s hold.

Suddenly, a shadow crossed the front door and without warning another large, imposing form came into the room.
Lord Norcourt.
Without a second’s delay, Lord Norcourt gripped the back of Mr. Bronson, and swung him around with such vigor that he released his hold on Seth, which sent the poor boy to the floor. Before Mr. Bronson could have a chance to put together what was going on, Lord Norcourt’s large fist collided with his face.

The stranger who’d been accosting Lucy snarled and abruptly let her go. Spitting, he stalked over to their new guest and threw a punch that connected with Lord Norcourt’s stomach.

A loud “Oooof” was all Lord Norcourt said before lifting his foot and kicking Lucy’s attacker between his legs.

“
Mama.” Seth’s weak voice grabbed her attention and her heart all over again as he inched his way toward her.

She reached for him and pulled him to her, wrapping him in her arms. “It’s all right,” she soothed in his ear, watching as Lord Norcourt lifted her attacker back to a standing position by his hair then proceeded to punch his face and midsection until he fell to a boneless heap on the floor.

In her arms, Seth’s body shook with sobs and she tried her best to console him, but doubted she could when she was just as upset. She couldn’t show it though. She needed to be strong. He needed her.

In the shadows she saw Mr. Bronson stagger to his feet, but with one swift punch to the face that sent him flying backwards into the jagged edge of the window ledge, he was sent back to the ground and silence engulfed the room broken only by Lucy’s heavy breathing and Seth’s silent tears that seemed louder than gunfire to her.

“You all right?” Lord Norcourt’s soft voice startled her more than her attacker’s aggression had.

“
I’m fine,” she lied.

He bent down near her and her heart picked up pace. Now that the danger was over, she was able to think straight and the first thing she needed to make sense of was why he was here.

“Why did you come back?”

“
To apologize.”

She closed her tired eyes. She couldn’t begin to know what he was apologizing for. “I don’t think I can refuse to accept your apology now,” she teased.

“Yes, you can,” he said quietly.

If she wasn’t in such a state, she’d argue with him and demand to know what he was even talking about, but for as brave of a woman as she’d like to be, she could hardly muster up an ounce of courage right now, let alone any defiance.

He reached for Seth. “Let me help you.”

“
Leave her alone,” Seth spat, clinging to Lucy.

“
Seth—”

“
It’s all right, boy,” Giles interjected in a gentle tone. “I’m not going to hurt you or your mama. Can you stand up so your mama can get up?”

It took some coaxing, but a moment later, Lord Norcourt had Seth on his feet. It was nearly dark in the house now, with only the low glow of the nearly set sun as their source of light. Even still, she could see her son’s tear-stained cheeks and it was all she could do to hold back her own tears.

Lord Norcourt’s strong hands slipped awkwardly under her arms as he helped her to her feet. As soon as she was standing, he removed his hands. “I didn’t mean to look,” he blurted.

Lucy sensed the nervousness in his tone and placed a hand on his forearm. “I know.” With her other hand, she did her best to pull her torn bodice together to cover herself as much as she could. “Thank you for saving us,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he returned. “Will you both come with me to London?”