Ladies of Deception 03 - Betraying the Highwayman (19 page)

Devon reached up and raked both hands through his hair as he groaned. “No, the only thing they seemed interested in talking about was you.”

“Me?” Elenore asked, surprised.

“Yes. They must have been as taken in by your appearance tonight as I. I kept attempting to remind them of the investment information they promised to share, but none of them were eager to speak of such things. I'm beginning to think it was all a sham.”

“Oh Devon, I'm so sorry.”

He shrugged. “Don't be sorry. Just be glad that something positive came out of tonight.”

“And what is that?”

“I've finally realized that it's pointless for me to continue on in my charade as Black Lightening; therefore, I will resign my failed duties as highwayman and help my father the only sure way I know how.”

“How is that?” Elenore asked curiously.

“By agreeing to marry a lady with a large dowry. It's the only thing I can do, and the sooner the better, though I swore to myself I'd never stoop so low.”

Elenore filled with dread. He couldn't be serious. She knew how much he wanted to marry for love, and the thought of him being bound forever to someone whom he didn't harbor the tender emotion for, broke her heart. “Maybe I can help you,” she pleaded, hoping that he still had feelings for her, that if she told him the truth about her identity now, that he would agree to give her a chance, that he wouldn't be so quick to rush head-long into a marriage he would live to regret.

Devon looked at her skeptically before laughing sardonically. “How could you possibly help? Unless you have a hidden fortune somewhere that you are willing to part with, there's nothing you can do.”

Elenore's heart sunk. He was right. Even if she told him the truth, that she really wasn't a nun and that she had begun to care for him deeply, it wouldn't be enough. There was nothing she could do. She had never before known such despair. She sunk against the carriage seat and looked dejectedly out the window to avoid showing him the sadness that she knew would be etched on her face. “You’re right. There's nothing I can do.”

Lord Grayson was relieved when his guests finally left and he was able to have a moment to speak to the man he had been working for in private. Shutting the door to his study and locking it with the key, he turned to Lord Wentworth and said, “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

A wicked smile stretched across Lord Wentworth's mouth, as he steepled his fingers together and placed them under his chin. “I think I am. I think Lord Bridgerton's supposed mistress may very well be the girl whom we were seeking information about. She looks to be about the right age. It's as if fate is in our favor tonight.”

Lord Grayson went and half-sat on the edge of his desk. “Did you notice how uncomfortable the chit was around your wife? She could hardly look her in the eye.”

“And vice versa. My wife was not amused with the girl's presence either. You must promise not to utter a word of this to anyone.”

“Who would I tell?” Lord Grayson asked, irritably.

“One never knows. Now listen carefully while I tell you what you need to do next.” Lord Grayson walked to the cupboard and poured himself a glass of brandy, not bothering to offer Lord Wentworth a drink before he sat in the chair behind his desk. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what Lord Wentworth was about to say.

“I am going to have you go to Surrey to my brother-in-law's estate and kidnap the girl.”

“What?” Lord Grayson nearly spewed his drink across his desk. “That's illegal. I refuse to be party to that.”

Lord Wentworth made to stand. “Very well. I'll just waltz right into the parlor and inform your wife about your mistress. She seemed in an especially good mood tonight. I think she'll handle the news quite well.”

Lord Grayson growled. “I'm sick of you holding this over my head. I've spent months doing your bidding, and I think it's fair to say that I've earned your silence by now.”

“I'm the one who decides the terms of our agreement, not you. Besides, maybe it's best if your wife finds out the truth already. Are you really that afraid of her shrewish ways? Or are you more worried that her father will find out and there will be hell to pay?”

Lord Grayson gritted his teeth. It was true. Though he dreaded his wife finding out about his unfaithfulness, it was her father he truly feared. The man had the power to utterly destroy his life and had promised to do so on multiple occasions if he ever caused his daughter distress. It was no secret to him that she was unhappy in their marriage, as was he, but he made it a point to keep her somewhat pacified, at least enough to keep her father at bay. Her father had been financially supporting them since their marriage, and without his assistance, Lord Grayson would be left penniless, a fate he dreaded worse than almost anything.

After a pregnant pause, he finally asked, “What do you hope to gain by taking the girl?”

“Revenge, of course.”

“Isn't there possibly some other legal way to go about getting what you seek?”

“This is what I want, and this is what you'll do. Stop doubting my decisions. I'm quickly growing impatient with your reluctance to do my bidding. Once you've captured the girl, we will send a missive to Lord Brattondale demanding a hefty ransom, a sum so large it will bankrupt him to pay it. We'll see how devoted he really is to his insufferable sister.”

“He'll never agree to pay it. It would be his undoing.”

“Well if not, then perhaps I'll give him another option, an option that will destroy both him and my wife.” Lord Grayson watched as Lord Wentworth's eyes glazed over as if he was deep in a wicked thought so sinful that only he could find it enjoyable. A chill coursed through Lord Grayson's body, and he cursed the day he had ever met the man.

***

Elenore must have fallen asleep because the next thing she remembered was being nudged awake by Devon. She came to, rubbing her eyes to focus them in the dark confines of the carriage.

“We've arrived at Westbrooke Hall, and as much as I'd love to carry you in, the staff would not be amused, nor would my father when he found out you weren't really sick in bed all day. You'll have to sneak around the side of the house where you can enter through the dining room.”

Devon made to open the door, and Elenore reached out and stopped him. “Wait, there something I must tell you.”

Devon looked at her expectantly. “I've seen your aunt, Lady Wentworth at Westbrooke Hall before.”

“And you are telling me this why? It's rare that she pays a visit, but it's not completely unheard of.”

“I'm telling you this because I overheard a strange conversation she had with your father. She told him that she grew worried when he didn't meet her as planned, as he had every month for the past ten and eight years. She said that she was worried that something had happened to him.”

“Look, none of that is highly unusual. He's always been close to her. She's his only sister. Now let's hurry and get going. I'm rather exhausted.”

“Devon, let me finish. She told your father that she was also concerned that something may have happened to the girl. Then she handed him an envelope. He offered to let her see the girl but she refused.”

“What girl?”

“I have no idea. That's all I heard. At the time I didn't know it was your aunt. In fact, I didn't make the connection until tonight. Don't you find it odd?”

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “But I'm not entirely sure what it means.”

“Me either. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you. I owe you my deepest gratitude for all the help you have given me.” The look he was giving her was so tender she wanted him to reach out and touch her or to press his lips gently to hers, but he did neither. “I truthfully do not know what I would have done without you.”

She wanted to scream at him that she didn't know what she was going to do without him, now that she had realized how much she wanted him in her life, but she knew she couldn't. He needed to marry someone with a large dowry, and she, unfortunately, had none. Instead, she tried to sound casual as she said, “As much as I hate to admit it, my motives were not entirely selfless. I'm still very much anticipating you arranging my voyage to America, and I need you to do it soon. I can't stay here much longer. Please understand.”

“I understand. I will be returning to London immediately to retrieve Calvin and promise you that I will arrange your passage immediately. You have my word.”

Though she knew he would honor his word, she felt a sad emptiness at the thought of their impending goodbye. She wondered if she should bid him a final farewell or if she would see him one last time. She decided to ask him. “Will you be returning to tell me in person once you have made my arrangements for me, or will this be goodbye?” Before he could answer she remembered the necklace hanging from her throat. She reached up and unclasped it, then thrust it at him. “I almost forgot. You promised you'd sell this for me. It's critical that I have the money.”

Devon reluctantly took the necklace. “Then we will save our goodbyes for when I return with your money.”

Elenore felt relieved knowing that this would not be their final farewell, then silently slipped from the carriage. She hurried as fast as she could to the French doors that would lead her inside, anxious to get out of the cold air and safely to her room. The house was silent, as she entered, and she knew that everyone would be in bed at this late hour. She was glad that she knew the house so well as she crept along the dark halls and corridors, unwilling to light a candle to guide her path.

When she reached her room, she slipped inside and sighed in relief, before going to the window and parting the drapes to allow the light of the moon to illuminate her room enough for her to undress. She removed the delicate pink gown and sighed. It was probably the last time that she would ever wear such finery. She had heard how rugged America was in comparison to England and doubted she'd have many occasions to dress up, let alone have the funds to afford to do so. Reluctantly, she went and hung the dress in the wardrobe figuring Devon would have to return it to his sister's belongings at a later date.

Retrieving her nightclothes from the dresser, she slipped the white gown over her head and sat down to remove the pins from her hair. She reached for her comb and began methodically brushing her hair, counting the strokes in a habitual manner. The repetitive soothing motion had almost lulled her to sleep, as she felt her hand fall and her chin begin to lower against her chest. A slow creaking sound startled her as she turned to see her door slowly opening. She clutched her brush to her chest, her heart beating frantically in her chest. She hoped the intruder was Devon coming to tell her something but gasped when she looked up into the somber face of Lord Grayson.

She froze in terror, as the brush she had been clutching fell from her hands and landed with a thump on the ground. Lord Grayson advanced towards her, shutting the door behind him. She scurried from her chair, backing towards the wall but unsure of where she would go. “What are you doing here?” she asked nervously, not liking the way his dark eyes looked at her, as if she was an animal to be hunted.

Lord Grayson's didn't answer her but continued to take pointed steps in her direction. She finally hit the wall, having retreated as far as she could and began looking around for something, anything that she could possibly use to defend herself, but she found nothing. She wished she hadn't dropped her brush, knowing it wouldn't be much as way of a defense, but at least she could have used it to hit him.

Finally, he stood in front of her. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a long strip of cloth, leaned forward and spoke. “You can make this easy on yourself, or we can do this the hard way. I want you to remain silent.”

He reached forth and grabbed her shoulders painfully, spinning her around so he could tie the rag around her head and gag her. She wished she had taken the time to scream for help while she could, but she doubted anybody would have heard her and come to her aide. Lord Grayson pulled a second strip of cloth from his pocket and wound it around he wrists, tying them painfully together behind her back. She groaned in response but the sound came out all muffled.

When he was finished binding her hands, Lord Grayson leaned forward and hissed in her ear, “Do as I say or you will regret it.”

Jerking her backwards he turned her around and began forcing her towards the door. She had no choice but to follow as he dragged her painfully along. Down the hall they went. She almost tripped numerous times on the stairs, as he half jogged down them making it hard for her to keep up. He showed no concern whatsoever for her safety or comfort, as he led her forcefully along the same path she had just taken up to her room. As he headed for the dining room, she realized that he must have seen her entering the house in order to know the most secretive way to escape. It made her feel violated to know that he had been watching and following her the entire time.

The cold air assaulted her as soon as they left the house. Her thin gown provided little warmth to her body and she shivered in response. Lord Grayson continued to pull her along, the cold grass causing her feet to grow extremely uncomfortable, almost painful, but she had no choice but to continue moving. They kept walking for what felt like a long time, and Elenore wondered where he was taking her, what he planned to do.

When the abandoned cottage Devon used to aid him in keeping his Black Lightening disguise came into view, she wanted to rejoice. At least he wasn't taking her far from the main house. He opened the door and pushed her inside. Her first awareness was that there was somebody else in the house sitting in a chair in the corner, holding a flickering candle.

When her eyes met his, Lord Wentworth spoke, “It's so good to see you. I assume you know why I've brought you here.”

Elenore shook her head back and forth violently, since she couldn't speak beyond the gag in her mouth. She wished they would release it but wasn't the least bit surprised when neither of them made to do so.

“Maybe they've never told you about your true identity as daughter of a marchioness. I wonder what they have told you. Maybe nothing. Maybe they've just kept you and made you to be servant to their every whim. Maybe there's more truth to your being my nephew's mistress than I originally imagined.”

Elenore wanted to interrupt his ramblings and yell at him to tell her what he was talking about, but again, all she could do was remain quiet.

“Well, regardless what they've done with you these past ten and eight years, I'm the one in control now, I'll decide what your future will be. Lord Grayson, tie her to the bed. I have a feeling this could be a long night.”