“Isn’t there a nurse?” Dante asked, staring with wide eyes at the amount of noise coming from such a small body.
“She went to fetch s-something to ease Alicia’s stomach. She a-appears to have a problem with d-digestion.” Driscoll could hardly hear Diana’s broken reply over the screams.
“Ah, here we are, little darling.” A rounded woman, somewhere in her fifties, who must have been the nurse, entered the room with a bottle of brown liquid. “A tad bit of chamomile and ginger will set her little body to straights.”
She lifted the sobbing child from Diana’s arms, who then wiped the tears that had been streaming down her own cheeks. She stood, wobbling a bit until Hunt gripped her elbow. “I think you should rest for a while, my love. You look a tad worn out.”
Diana merely nodded at her two brothers-in-law and walked with Hunt out of the drawing room. “I shall be right back,” Hunt threw over his shoulder.
“Blasted things, babies,” Dante said as the room quieted down.
“But a blessing as well,” Driscoll added.
Dante smirked. “You never would had said that two months ago. I think you have fallen hard, dear brother.”
Perhaps he had. The idea of Amelia as his wife and swollen with his child caused as much joy as the idea of him not rescuing her in time caused him excruciating pain. No matter. Even if they were too late to rescue her from the fate Newton planned, Driscoll would still take her as his wife. After he killed, slowly and painfully, whoever ‘won’ her in the auction.
The two brothers sat in silence, sipping on the tea a footman brought to the room shortly after Hunt left.
“Diana is settled, and the babe is already asleep.” Hunt rubbed his hands together as he entered the room. He walked to the tea cart and fixed a cup of tea and then sat across from his two brothers. “What news do you have?”
They had visited with Hunt when Driscoll had first learned of Amelia’s disappearance. As a peer, and member of the House of Lords, Hunt had many contacts that he used to uncover anything he could about the missing woman. Before his questions had brought any information, Driscoll had learned about the auction and the woman being offered, who he knew to be Amelia.
“The auction is to be held in two days. As far as I have been able to ascertain, the event is by invitation only, and given our contentious relationship with Newton and the fact that he had Amelia kidnapped from our club, I don’t think any of our names are on the coveted list.”
Unable to sit still, which is how Driscoll’s days—and nights—had been since he’d returned from the Home Office assignment, he jumped up and began to pace. “I don’t wish to involve the authorities since Amelia’s name will be dragged through the mud and any chance she would have of a normal life thereafter will be nil.”
Hunt eyed his brother with smugness. “And am I to assume you wish the thereafter life to be with you?”
Driscoll stopped and nodded. “Yes. I intend to offer for her the minute she is free of Newton’s clutches.” He glared at Dante. “No matter what the outcome is.” He turned back to Hunt. “And Newton won’t dare object to the match, given he is her guardian, as long as I assure him no legal ramifications would befall him.”
“What is our plan, then?” Hunt asked before popping a small sandwich into his mouth.
“Driscoll’s suggestion of beating the man to a pulp before he can hold the auction was not the best, I think.” Dante grinned at his brother.
“Why not?” Driscoll asked. “We know he has her, we know for what purpose. Why not just walk up to his house, barge our way in and rescue her?”
“Little brother, you are not thinking clearly. One cannot barge into a peer’s home, snatch one of the residents and expect there will be no repercussions,” Hunt said.
“Anyway,” Dante added, glancing sideways at his brother, “I think our best move is to wait until the night of the auction.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We have to get her before the bidding starts. Once a gentleman has been awarded—I hate that term—the girl, it will be harder to get her out. I would prefer to have as little commotion as possible.”
“What if I visited with Newton and offered to pay whatever he thought he would gain from the auction?” Driscoll asked.
“Then you would buy her, like one of the attendees?” Dante snapped, his brows raised at his brother.
“Of course not,” Driscoll snapped back. “The men attending this disgraceful event plan to make her a mistress. I would offer her marriage. If the blunt is enough, he might let her go.”
Hunt shook his head and took his last sip of tea. “It won’t work. He has a grudge against us for banning him from the club. If he refuses your offer, he will be privy to your desire to have the girl. Our surprise plot to snatch her during the auction will be lost. He will hire guards if you make your intentions known.”
Driscoll stopped his pacing. “All right, so what do we do?”
Hunt leaned back in his chair. “Newton will have her locked up, probably with guards, so there is no way to get to her before his event. However, I can’t imagine this being a quiet, refined affair. I’m sure there will be plenty of liquor and noise. Once the party gets started, one of us goes in.”
“Me,” Driscoll said.
Hunt gave a curt nod. “You will have to look around. Don’t go in right away. I’m assuming Newton will want to have everyone feeling generous and well into their cups before he starts his auction. Knowing the sort of man who will attend one of these things, they will also be heavy drinkers and free with their blunt.”
“Most likely she is locked in her bedchamber. I have no idea where that is, but I’ll find it.”
Hunt stood. “I have a set of implements you can use that will open any lock in the house.”
The earl grinned at his brothers’ shocked expressions. “Certainly, you don’t think when I visit ton parties to gather information for the Crown that they thoughtfully leave all the rooms unlocked?”
“Then I think we’re all set,” Dante said. “Hunt and I will wait outside with a carriage. Once you have her, find a back or side door to bring her out. If not, you might have to drop her out a window.”
“How will you know?” Driscoll asked.
“I will wait at the back of the house where the bedchamber windows are. If you need to drop her, I can do my best to catch her before she lands. But that is a last resort. All of those townhouses have back entrances for the servants and delivery men. If she’s lived there before, she must know how to find the back stairs.
“Hunt will be in the front, but down a few houses in his carriage.” Dante pointed at Driscoll. “Just don’t get so carried away with your lady that you forget me and trot on home.”
Driscoll looked at his two brothers who he’d depended on all his life. They’d had their scuffles and flat-out fist fights growing up, but he would do anything for either of them, and it appeared they felt the same way about him. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Hunt grinned and glanced at the ceiling where his wife rested. “Yes. I do. Now if you will excuse me, I feel the need to take a nap.”
“A nap!” They both shouted.
“When there is a soft, warm, willing woman in your bed, a nap is always the best way to occupy an afternoon.” He waved at them as he left the room. “Be gone with you. I have things to do.”
* * *
Amelia continued to wring her hands as she paced the bedchamber. Never had she regretted anything more than her decision to not tell Driscoll who she was and what Randolph had planned for her. She was stupid, plain stupid, that was the only thing she could attribute it to.
She could already hear the arrival of the men as they made their way through the front door. Loud, laughing, some of them sounded as if they had already downed an entire bottle of brandy.
Actually, it didn’t sound very different from when Randolph had his usual parties. Except she was certain this one did not have any o
f the loose women he generally invited along as ‘entertainment’ for his guests.
She let out a hysterical giggle. No, she would be the only loose woman at the party. She cringed, thinking of what was in store for her. She’d spent so many hours trying to think of a way to get out of this disaster. Oh God, how could she save herself?
The crowd grew rowdier, and she more panicky, as time went on. She could attempt to run once they let her out of the room, but with all those men downstairs she wouldn’t get very far. She had already searched her room completely and found nothing she could use as a weapon. Randolph had stripped it bare before he locked her in.
She had climbed out the window when she’d escaped the last time but since then Randolph had one of the footmen nail it shut, so that way was blocked. And she couldn’t break the window because they’d taken all the linens from her bed, which she used the last time to make a rope to climb out. She’d been forced to sleep completely clothed, with a cape wrapped around her to keep from freezing during the night.
In her darkest moments she attempted to tell herself maybe the life Randolph planned for her wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps she would be sold to a nice older man, someone kind, who would treat her well and not demand she share his bed too often.
Oh, God who was she kidding? The life of a mistress was not one of respectability. She would never have children, and if she did, they would be bastards, and no one would accept them. They would grow to hate her.
Her head jerked up at the sound at her door. Were they coming for her already? She looked around frantically, thinking there must be somewhere she could hide. She stopped. It didn’t sound like the door was unlocking, it sounded like scratching.
She walked to the door and knelt. The scratching continued. She pressed her ear against the door. An animal? Wonderful. Just want she needed to complete her night. Attacked by a crazed rat.
Suddenly, the door was pulled open, and she tumbled forward.
Right into Driscoll’s arms.
20
Driscoll held Amelia in his arms and pressed her head against his chest as she sobbed her heart out and mumbled words he could not understand, clinging tightly to him.
“Shh. It’s all right, sweetheart. You must quiet yourself. We have to get you out of here without anyone knowing.”
She pulled away and nodded, accepting the handkerchief he handed her. Gripping her shoulders, he leaned back and looked at her as she wiped her wet cheeks. Face paint had been applied to her lovely visage, and her glorious hair hung down almost to her waist. His eyes lowered to see her garbed in a night dress and dressing gown. Both skimpy and both causing his stomach to clench with enough rage to find her brother downstairs and beat the living hell out of him.
Instead, he had to get Amelia away. As quickly as possible. He could never take on all the men drinking, laughing and generally raising hell downstairs. From what he’d seen when he entered the house—the door no longer being guarded as it had been earlier—Randolph would be upstairs any minute to drag Amelia to the auction before everyone got too drunk to bid.
“Do you know how to access the back stairs?” There didn’t seem to be any reason to lower his voice since he would never be heard downstairs.
Still gulping for air, she nodded.
“Good.” He stood and removed his jacket, covering her with it. He took her hand and helped her up. “Come. We must leave quickly.”
Although he and his two brothers all carried pistols, he preferred not to be forced to shoot his way out of the house.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Amelia clung to his hand as she led him down the corridor. Once they reached the door to the back staircase, heavy footsteps sounded from the other end of the corridor. Randolph and his cohorts were coming for her. He broke into a sweat thinking how close he’d come to arriving too late.
“Hurry.” He moved in front of her and all but dragged her down the stairs. Since the door to her bedchamber was no longer locked, it wouldn’t take the men long to discover Amelia gone.
They stepped out into the night air and Dante strode up to them.
“We have to get out of here. They will have just learned that Amelia is gone.” With a swoop of his arms, Driscoll picked Amelia up and crushing her to his chest, they ran for the carriage.
A roar broke out behind them from the front door just as they reached the vehicle. Hunt opened the door, and Driscoll all but threw Amelia inside. Once the three men entered the carriage and slammed the door, the vehicle took off, disappearing into the misty night, leaving the angry shouts behind them.
Amelia sat huddled in the corner, tugging the flaps of his jacket together. Although she shivered, he was reluctant to pull her against him to create warmth, not yet sure of her frame of mind. It was a short ride from Newton’s house to Hunt’s townhouse, so he would wait and give her time.
It had been decided that the most obvious place for Newton to come to demand the return of Amelia would be The Rose Room. Bringing Amelia to Hunt’s house also prevented any scandal from erupting since with Lady Huntington present, there would be no question about Amelia’s reputation being ruined.
The carriage came to a rolling stop in front of Huntington Townhouse. Hunt stepped out, then Dante. They both headed up the steps. Driscoll turned to Amelia, pushing her abundance of hair behind her ear. “Are you ready to leave?”
She nodded, her eyes as they met his filled with tears. “They were going to auction me off.”
“I know, sweetheart. If you wish to discuss it later, we can.” He extended his hand. “Come. For now, let’s go inside where it is warmer.”
He stepped down, turned and took her ice-cold hand in his. Since she was barefooted, he once again carried her up the steps and into the house. Diana stood in the entrance hall, anxiety written on her face. She held her arms out. “Oh, my dear.”
Amelia walked straight into Diana’s embrace, as if they were long-lost best friends. Apparently even a previously unknown woman was comforting to a woman in Amelia’s state.
Diana looked over Amelia’s shoulder. “I will bring her upstairs and find something for her to wear. We will meet you in the drawing room.”
Driscoll reluctantly nodded and allowed Diana to take Amelia away from him. He watched them ascend the stairs, Amelia’s head resting on Diana’s shoulder. He understood that she needed the comfort of a woman right now, but he was not going to wait overlong to make his intentions known. No one would ever touch her again.
Once he had Amelia’s consent, he would send for a special license, visit with Newton to demand his approval of the match, and visit the nearest vicar. Amelia would never have to worry about taking care of herself for the rest of her life. She would be his and damn anyone who tried to do her harm.
His lips tightened as he turned to join his brothers in the drawing room. He would very much enjoy visiting Newton tomorrow when the cad was feeling the result of his overindulgence, and perhaps the wrath heaped upon him by the thwarted men he’d invited to the auction. He hoped to add significantly to the man’s misery.
* * *
Amelia turned and looked at the woman who had brought her upstairs. She remembered seeing her briefly when the earl made a quick visit to the club one evening when Lady Huntington was heavy with child. Amelia had been dealing at the time and didn’t get to meet her.
“Amelia—can I call you Amelia?” Lady Huntington said in a soft soothing tone.
“Yes. Of course.” Amelia was surprised her own voice worked as well as it did. She’d been crying since she fell into Driscoll’s arms and her eyes burned and her nose was stuffy.
“Then you must call me Diana.” She smiled warmly and Amelia felt more at ease than she had for days.
“We have a bathing room down the corridor. I had a bath prepared for you, assuming you would like to relax for a bit.”
Amelia closed her eyes. “That would be wonderful. They sprayed me with some sort of perfume that is making me nauseous.”
&
nbsp; Diana smiled in sympathy. “I noticed.”
Thankful that Diana did not wish to question her, Amelia followed her down the corridor to a wonderful room where she could easily spend the next few hours.
A large copper bathing tub sat against one wall, steam from the water misting softly in the air. A small table sat next to the tub with soap and a linen square placed on it. Behind the tub, two towels, large and fluffy, hung on a rack. Amelia groaned at the sight.
“That’s what I thought,” Diana said with a smile. “I will leave you to your bath.” She pointed to a large comfortable chair in the corner opposite the tub. “I placed some clean clothing there for you to change into.
“In a little while I will send my maid up to assist you in dressing. She will bring you down to the drawing room when you are finished.”
Tears welled in Amelia’s eyes again. “I don’t know how to thank you. Or your husband, and Dante. . .” She shook her head, unable to continue.
Diana touched her arm gently. “Be at ease, Amelia. We are all happy to see you safe and away from that horrible place.” Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. “Enjoy your bath. I know Driscoll is anxious to see you.”
Driscoll.
Was he angry with her for not telling him what he’d asked her for weeks? Yes, he rescued her, but that could be because she was an employee and he felt honor-bound to do that.
She removed the horrid night clothes they’d forced her to wear and tossed them in the corner, hoping she would have the enjoyment of burning them. She climbed into the tub, sighing as the warm water enveloped her body. She took the small linen square, rubbed the sweet-smelling soap over it and washed the face paint off. She was appalled at the way they had forced her to dress. A jolt of panic raced through her when she thought about how close she’d come to being presented dressed as a courtesan in front of who knows how many men all eager to bid on her.
She slid down in the water and washed her hair. She scrubbed her skin so hard she thought she would rub it off. No sooner had she’d finished washing than a soft knock on the door drew her attention. “Please come.”
A Lady’s Trust: Rose Room Rogues ~ Book Two Page 15
