Love With an Improper Stranger (24 page)

“Your Grace.”  The housekeeper curtseyed and then poked the tradesman.  “Remove your hat, guttersnipe.”

“Oh, I say.”  The lad pulled off his dirty cap.  “Would you be Blake Elliott, a duke of some sort?”

“I am.”  Blake dismissed Mrs. Parker with a wave of his hand.  “Who are you, and have you knowledge pertaining to the whereabouts of Lenore Teversham?”

“Aye, sir.  My name is Jasper.”  He shuffled his feet and gazed at the ceiling.  “And Miss Lenore Teversham asked me to tell you she has dire need of her knight.  And I am to give you this, to prove I am in earnest.”  He held out a balled handkerchief tied with a familiar ribbon.

“Is it hers?” Sir Ross asked.

“It is.”  Blake accepted the tiny parcel, pulled on the strip of blue silk, unraveled the square of cotton, revealed the diamond betrothal ring, and for the second time in as many minutes, his knees buckled.  “I gifted this to her for Christmas.”

“How are you acquainted with Miss Teversham?”  Sir Ross stepped to the fore.  “Where is she, and can you take us to her?”

“The lady surprised me, as I cleaned a chimney stack.”  Jasper scratched his chin.  “She is staying in a top floor room at The Black Garter Inn, in Marylebone.  And she is ill, which is why she asked me to find you.”

“
Marylebone
?”  Samuel swore under his breath.  “Their father is rolling over in his grave.”

“Was anyone else with her?”  Sir Ross summoned Jennings and said, “Send word to my office, and have my agents meet me there.”

“At once, sir.”  Then Jennings paused.  “Should I have the coach brought to the front door?”

“Yes,” Blake responded.  “We journey, posthaste.”

“Miss Teversham was alone, sir.”  Jasper dusted off his black vest.  “May I come with you, as the lady promised you would give me a ride home?  My mum will not be happy if I am late for dinner.”

“Young man, we have reason to suspect Miss Teversham is a victim of a crime, so I will need to interview you.”  Sir Ross jotted notes with a pencil.  “And was anyone with you when you spoke with her?”

“No, sir.  My apprentice cleaned the flue.”  Then Jasper hesitated and bowed his head.  “Am I in trouble?”

“Not at all.”  Blake found his voice and assumed command of the exchange.  “You have done me a great service, and I am forever in your debt, for which you shall be handsomely rewarded.  For now, however, we shall begin with transportation to Marylebone.  Let us away.”

Almost an hour later, after an anxious, white-knuckle ride to the seedier part of London, Blake languished in the squalid room in the sordid inn, holding a kerchief to his nose to check the stench.  At the window from which his fiancée made her desperate plea, he gazed at the chimney and uttered a silent prayer of thanks for the sign, however belated, that she persisted.

“Your Grace, we found something.”  With a pair of tweezers, an agent from the Corps held up a calfskin glove.  “It was under the bed.  Do you recognize it?”

“Aye.”  In a flash, Blake recalled the afternoon he bared her hand and suckled her fingers for the first time.  “It is Lenore’s.”

“Then she was here.”  The agent placed the item in a canvas bag.  “And our search of the trash yielded several empty bottles, which reek of laudanum, so it is an educated guess that our suspect is drugging the women, which would explain Jasper’s comment regarding Miss Teversham’s health.”

Stunned by the revelation, and the stark contrast between the crude accommodations and his lady’s elegance, Blake could form no coherent response.  Instead, he sat at the table, shoved aside the plate holding a crust of bread and a cluster of weevils, and imagined his lady, safe and sound, that it might be so.

“Your Grace, I have news of the possible destination.”  Sir Ross scanned his notes.  “The proprietor, Mr. Palmer, overheard our pretend Teversham and an accomplice talking, and they mentioned Twickenham.  From what Palmer recounted, I gather our villain is aware someone searches for the ladies, which is why he moved them this afternoon, almost a full three hours prior to our arrival.”

“Then we journey, at once.”  Blake considered the conditions of the room and the bottles of laudanum.  “Do whatever you can, Ross, as we must find them.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A throbbing pain
in her jaw brought Lenore awake.  Resting on a mattress, she attempted to massage her injury, discovered her hands bound at the wrists, and came alert.  In seconds, she recalled the violent confrontation with her captor, as she tried to thwart their departure from the inn, his vicious blow to her face, and a slow descent into unconsciousness, with his taunting laughter echoing in her ears.  Panicked, she twisted against the rope but could not break loose.  Then she noticed she was not alone.

Four women, strangers all, stared at Lenore.

“Hello.”  She licked her dry lips, wiped her runny nose on her sleeve, ordered her faculties as best she could, and surveyed her new surroundings, which manifested a minor improvement on the last accommodations.  “Can you tell me where I am, how long I have been here, and why I am confined?”

“Poor dear,” a woman replied.  “I am Bess, and this is Charlotte.  Near the window sits Martha, and to your right is Esther.”  Bess smiled.  “You arrived last night, and we are here for the same reason; to be auctioned.”

“It appears your husband sold you to settle a debt.”  Esther chuckled.  “But fear not, as he may come back for you.  My Donald has a nasty gambling habit, exceeded only by his penchant for losing.  This will be the third time he has bartered me to pay his accounts, but he always returns for me.”

Had Lenore thought the situation could not get any worse?

“But that man was a liar, as we were not married, and I have no spouse.  And I am promised to another.”  Bordering on the edge of hysteria, Lenore struggled to untie herself.  “Are we prisoners?  Will you not free me, as I must summon help?”

“We were told you would resist but we were not to listen to your babble.”  Martha shook her head and frowned.  “There is no use fighting, as you will not escape, because Mr. Hildebrand bragged he paid good money for you, and he expects you to fetch a decent sum.  Besides, your new master could treat you much better than your last.”

“Please, you must heed my request, as I was taken against my will.”  It was in that moment Lenore realized Lucy was not present.  “Where is my sister?  What have they done with her?”

Someone pounded on the door, and the hinges creaked, as a man opened the oak panel.  “Ladies, are you ready, as we will soon begin the festivities, and we have attracted quite a crowd.”

“Are you Mr. Hildebrand?”  Despite her bonds, Lenore scrambled from the bed.  “My name is Lenore Teversham, and an unscrupulous villain took me and my sibling from our home.  If you will contact—”

“Your husband warned me about you, and I will tolerate none of your nonsense.  And per my agreement with your former spouse, no one is to see your face except your new owner.”  With a malevolent gaze, he approached and pulled a burlap sack from behind him.  “Now, if you give me your word you will cooperate, I will not gag you.  But if you put up a fuss, I will silence you, and you will not enjoy it.”  As he tugged the bag over her head, he said, “I paid a month’s worth of receipts for you, and I will get a good return on my investment, else you will work off the amount in my service until I decide otherwise.”

Grim acceptance of her fate functioned as a bitter muzzle, and Lenore surrendered the last measure of rebellion.  Led as a lamb to slaughter, she tripped and stumbled, wondering how she had fallen so far so fast.  A vile fetor of decay filled her nostrils, and she tried not to consider what the makeshift hood once contained, as she wrestled with nausea.

“Here, love.  I will hold you.”  Bess clutched Lenore’s fingers.  “Do not fret, as it will be over before you know it.”

A series of raucous hoots and bawdy hollers evidenced a rowdy male crowd, and Lenore shivered uncontrollably, as the loud rap of what sounded like a gavel quieted the throng.  Unable to witness the humiliating events, she closed her eyes and summoned happier reminiscences from her past, to sustain her.

How she wished she had married Blake when he asked her.  Why had she delayed?  Given the disparity in their births, she had thought herself beneath him.  Yet he cared not for the differences in their circumstances.  Would that she had shared his progressive view, from the onset.  She could have spared herself and Lucy the wretched state of affairs.

“Gentlemen, let us commence the wife sale.”  A rousing cheer erupted.  “For your consideration, we begin with the charming Charlotte.”

Lenore held tight to Bess, as the crowd shouted.

“I bid ten shillings.”

“I will pay one pound.”

“Two pounds.”

“Three.”

A lull fell on the gathering, and Lenore clenched her jaw.  Driven by fear so tangible she could taste it, she quivered uncontrollably, her teeth chattered, and tears streamed her cheeks.  One by one, the women were sold into some form of bondage, until only she remained.

“All right.  It is your turn.”  Mr. Hildebrand dragged her forward.  “Step up to the platform, and say nothing, else you will regret it.”

With palpable terror functioning as a dam in her throat, Lenore doubted her capacity to scream, and she resigned herself to the eventual and unavoidable outcome.  Isolated by the foul-smelling sack over her head, she clung to the past, as the tattered remnants of her dreams scattered like so much flotsam in the evening tide.  Yet her heart remained true to the vision of the one person who could and would liberate her from the hell that consumed her.  Never would she yield her beliefs, as her knight would fight the devil to free her.  Again and again, she repeated his name, as a mystical invocation against the evil nipping at her heels.  Yes, Blake would come for her.

Someone grabbed her ankle, and she jolted to the present and shrieked.  A howling chorus of laughter reverberated through the masses, and she feared she might break.

“Let us see her face.”

“What are you hiding?”

“Is she ugly?”

“No, my friends, she is shy.”  Hildebrand laughed and tugged her skirt.  “But she has plenty of spirit.”

“Five shillings.”

“Ten.”

And so Lenore sank into the ruthless grip of dread, as unknown men bartered for her like bloodstock at Tattersall’s.  With each new offer, part of her died, until a booming baritone startled her.

“Twenty pounds sterling.”

“
Sold,
to the gentleman in the black overcoat.”

A murmur swept over the audience, and Lenore’s knees buckled.  At that instant, she wished she could spy something through the burlap.  To her right, someone, presumably her new owner, counted a sum, and she cringed to contemplate it.

“The lady is yours, sir.”  Hildebrand snickered.  “A pleasure doing business with you.”

The grasp that took her by the elbow was unexpectedly gentle, yet she could not cease trembling.  “There is a single step down, directly in front of you.”

“I know not who you are, but I do not belong here.”  Her mind raced, and she caught the toe of her slipper and lurched, but her master kept her upright.  “There are those who would pay for my return.”

“Shh, Miss Teversham,” he replied in a bare whisper.  “We will talk when we board the rig and enjoy a measure of privacy.”