The Bachelor Bargain (Secrets, Scandals, and Spies)

by Michaels, Maddison

  “I’ll protect them with my life,” Rowan replied.

  “Don’t let it come to that.” Seb’s voice brooked no argument. “And don’t lose your head over my sister. She’s stunning and bloody clever.”

  Rowan whistled through his teeth. “Damn. I can see this assignment is already going to be a pain in the behind, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  “Just don’t get any ideas about her.” Seb growled low in warning. Not that he didn’t think he could trust Rowan to be respectful—he never would have entrusted Charlotte’s safety in his hands if that had been the case—but Rowan was still as susceptible to a beautiful face as the next man, and his sister was stunning.

  “Are you kidding, Seb?” There was a look of affront on Rowan’s face. “I wouldn’t dare disrespect you and all you’ve done for me by dallying with your sister. I know I’d be in the bottom of the Thames quick as a lick if I so much as touched the girl.”

  “As long as we’re clear.”

  “We are.”

  “All right then. Charlotte should be with Lady Olivia at her modiste’s on Bond Street about now.”

  “Spending your blunt, I’m guessing,” Rowan said.

  “Copious amounts of it. Find them, then trail them but don’t show yourself. At least not yet, anyhow. I want you to see if anyone else is following them. It appears the Lads gang has had a couple of goes at Olivia already, and though I doubt they will try again in the middle of London, it’s always best to be prepared.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Good. Clint, get in here!” he bellowed toward the door.

  “He’s not there,” Rowan said. “He left a note on his desk saying he went to drop off some papers to your solicitor.”

  “Damn it. All right then, before you go and find the ladies, I want you to get word out to all our men to meet us at the docks in four hours,” Seb said, returning his mind back to the problem that this Lads gang was becoming. “Tell them to bring their weapons, as they’ll be making good use of them tonight.”

  “They will?”

  “Yes. It’s time we paid this gang a visit and teach them what happens when they mess with the Baker Street Boys.”

  “Aye,” Rowan agreed, a huge smile spreading over his face. “It’s long overdue.”

  Chapter Thirty

  After countless hours spent looking at patterns, choosing colors, and selecting materials from about a thousand different swatches, finally Livie and Charlotte emerged from Madame Arnout’s, exhausted but thoroughly satisfied with the order they’d eventually placed with the seamstress.

  Livie was sure Sebastian would be none too thrilled about the costs incurred in doing so; however, he could well afford it, and his sister would look simply magnificent when she received all of her new dresses and ball gowns. And thankfully, Madame Arnout had promised she would work around the clock to ensure Charlotte’s ball gown would be ready for the duchess’s ball, and that it would be beyond compare.

  It had also been very satisfying to hear the main conversation between the other patrons in the shop had been centered on discussing the up-and-coming Bachelor Bounty Gazette and who was going to be critiqued. It was all they had been able to gossip about.

  Which boded very well for the success of the first edition that was scheduled for publication in a week and a half. Hopefully, Kat’s informants were even now collating a dossier of dirt on Lord Daverell that they could include.

  Glancing up at the ominous clouds fast approaching, Livie realized with a shiver that the weather had taken a rather drastic turn while they’d been sequestered inside the modiste’s shop. The sunny sky had disappeared, only to be replaced with a whisper of fog and what felt like a drizzle of rain starting to gather momentum.

  A storm was brewing and Livie wanted to get Charlotte back home before it hit. It appeared most pedestrians had come to the same conclusion, as the street was nearly deserted.

  “Come, let’s get to the carriage before it gets worse.” Livie had to raise her voice to be heard over the wind that was starting to howl. “You hurry on ahead.”

  Thankfully, Charlotte heard her, and gave a nod in understanding before rushing ahead to the carriage. Following along at a more sensible pace, given she was more than likely to trip if she made haste upon the slippery ground with her leg, Livie eventually arrived at the carriage, too.

  She paused in her stride when she didn’t recognize the man holding open the door. And as she was about to question the fellow, she noticed the pistol he had nestled beside his cloak, pointed directly at her.

  “If ya scream, I’ll shoot ya.” The man smiled at her, his rotten yellowed teeth flashing with spittle that had gathered at the corner of his mouth.

  He was only a few inches taller than her, but he was stocky and looked as if he may have been an ex-boxer with his squashed, flat nose. He was dressed in brown trousers and a sweat-stained shirt, and his beady brown eyes were staring at her in calculation.

  “An’ if ya try to run, me mate who’s keeping ya little friend company in the carriage will shoot her, but not before he has ’imself a bit of fun wif ’er first. Understand me, love?”

  Livie peered inside the carriage compartment and saw that there was indeed another fellow seated on the opposite side of where Charlotte was sitting, with a pistol nestled in his hand, pointed directly at Charlotte. Rage, short and sharp, gripped her as she saw Charlotte’s terror-stricken eyes as she huddled in the corner.

  How dare these men accost them, and in Sebastian’s carriage of all places? Did they not realize who they were dealing with? But Sebastian couldn’t save them now. Livie would have to do something to get them out of this predicament, though she had no idea what.

  And the fact that Seb’s men were nowhere to be seen was not a good sign.

  Her gaze skimmed over the man in the carriage. He appeared as though he hadn’t had a good meal in a long time and was so thin Livie imagined the wind could knock him over. If Charlotte and she could get him alone, they’d definitely be able to overpower him.

  Not so of the man standing in front of her. Livie could tell he was enjoying the power of being in control, and it would be dangerous to underestimate him. Pressing her lips tightly together, she took in a deep breath of air. It was imperative that against such a man, she stay calm and in charge of her emotions, and not give in to the fear that had her whole body braced for an attack. If she did, he would only take pleasure in it.

  “As you can see, I cannot run anywhere.” Livie held up her cane. It was best he thought her immobile and rather useless with her limp, then hopefully he would underestimate her and allow her to keep her cane, which she had to hold on to at all costs. It could very well be their only means of protection and escape.

  The man laughed. “I was told ya walked funny. But where are me manners?” His hand darted out and he snatched her cane from her. “Let me take that for ya.”

  Livie stumbled slightly. “I need that to assist me to walk!”

  “Ya won’t be walking none where I’m taking ya, now will you?” He laughed again, seemingly amused by the idea.

  “At least let the girl go,” Livie implored. “She is an innocent bystander in all of this.”

  “I have my orders,” he replied. “Now, get in the carriage.”

  Refusing to budge, Livie eyed him in defiance. “You are aware my father is the Duke of Beresford?” Livie was hedging her bets mentioning such a thing. It could assist or it could hinder them. “Kidnapping me will make you the most wanted man in London. My father and brothers will stop at nothing until you are found and punished.”

  “I ain’t scared of no aristocracy, me lady. I answer to a higher power than that.” He pushed her toward the carriage, and Livie staggered to the door. “Now get in!”

  “How will I walk without my cane!” She swiveled around to see him standing right behind
her.

  “Ya must think I’m stupid,” he scoffed. “The silver on this ’ere handle must weigh a damn ton. I ain’t givin’ it to ya to clonk me on my head wif it. And I’ll take that pistol in your skirt pocket, too.” He grinned. “Slowly and no funny business or your friend is dead.”

  Damn it. Slowly, she pulled out her pistol and handed it to him. Without either of her weapons, a feeling of overwhelming distress started to build in her chest, and Livie had to tamp it down quickly. She turned back to face the inside of the carriage, unwilling to let the man behind her see her upset.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the man pass her cane up to the driver, who she noticed was not the same man who’d driven them here, then he pocketed his pistol and hers. Before Livie knew what he was about, he put both his grubby hands around her waist and shoved her into the carriage.

  Charlotte shrieked and immediately helped pull her onto the seat next to her, as the man climbed in behind her and sat next to his companion on the seat across from the ladies. A moment later, the carriage pulled away from the curb, its destination unknown.

  “Where are you taking us?” Livie asked, looking straight into the first man’s eyes.

  “To seek redemption, me lady.” He chuckled again, and Livie got the sense he was somewhat unhinged in the head. “Ya shouldn’t a had nofing ta do with that Bastard of Baker Street. He’s like a disease, killin’ all he comes into contact with.”

  “Well, at least you are aware of your fate,” she replied.

  “What do ya mean?” He scratched his head, looking rather nonplussed.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors of what the Bastard of Baker Street does with his enemies. He destroys them, utterly and completely.” Livie shrugged. “They won’t even be able to identify you once he’s done with you.”

  Livie was happy to see some beads of sweat break out on the man’s forehead, while his companion grew noticeably gray-looking.

  “Ya ain’t scaring me none,” the man declared, even though he squirmed uncomfortably on his seat and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck. “Besides, he won’t find us.”

  “Oh, he will,” she assured them. “He will find you both, and then you will wish you were in Hell instead of suffering his punishments.”

  The man leaned forward and slapped Livie hard across her cheek. Her head whipped to the side, a sharp sting stretching across her cheek from the contact. Very slowly, she turned back to face him, her eyes flashing in defiance.

  “Ya shut ya fucken trap, ya hear!” he screamed into the space. “Not another fucken word out a ya! Or I’ll make ya sorry ya dared to defy me, I will.”

  Livie merely raised her brow, refusing to let him see her cower. But she knew she’d pushed him to the edge. The man was terrified of Sebastian, even if he pretended otherwise. And that fear might be enough to stop him from really doing anything terrible to them both. At least she prayed it would be.

  Charlotte’s hand slipped into her own and she squeezed the girl’s fingers tightly, trying to impart that all would be okay, which she desperately hoped to be the case. But without knowing why they were being kidnapped, apart from the loosely mentioned redemption, nor the location of where they were being taken, Livie was at a loss to know how they’d save themselves.

  And though she believed all she’d just said about Seb, it was more so that he would seek vengeance against the men for daring to take Charlotte, even though it appeared they didn’t know of the prize they’d inadvertently secured by kidnapping her along with Livie.

  Yes, Seb would tear London apart trying to find his sister. And then God help the men when he did.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The small cell that had been built into the basement of the warehouse was cold, dark, and damp. The perfect arena to try to terrify them, if that was their captors intention.

  A shudder ran up Livie’s spine when one of the men who had escorted both her and Charlotte down into the space turned the brass key in the lock of the cell gate. The latch clunked heavily as it clicked into place, effectively trapping them inside, with little hope for escape.

  Livie’s eyes followed the guard as he wandered away down the hall, leaving her and Charlotte alone, at least for the moment. She’d thought she’d heard him mumbling something about the boss wanting to see them shortly, though with his heavily broken speech it had been difficult to tell if that actually had been what he’d muttered.

  Unable to contain a heartfelt sigh, Livie swiveled back around to face Charlotte. Thankfully, the girl didn’t appear nearly as terrified as she had in the carriage, though not having a gun pointed at her may have assisted in that regard.

  Livie began to hobble over toward the far wall where a rather dirty window was beckoning, but had to stop halfway, her leg paining her and her movements somewhat more limited without her cane to lean on. From the corner of her eye, she could see the look of concern on Charlotte’s face, but thankfully the girl made no move toward helping her, seemingly understanding that such a thing would only embarrass Livie.

  Fury roiled in her stomach once again over the bastards not letting her keep her cane. And not for the first time did Livie curse her leg. Darn it! How were they to escape? Even if they did by some chance get out of the cell, how would she get anywhere without her cane?

  But she could worry about that later. She needed to work out how she was going to get both of them out of this mess.

  What she needed was a lock-picking kit, but unlike Kat, Livie did not carry around a set of lockpicks with her wherever she went. She certainly now regretted laughing when Kat had suggested she and Etta should start doing so, after Kat had taught them how to pick a lock.

  If only she’d said yes, she’d have the picks on her and would be able to make quick work of the lock and get them out of there. Or at least get Charlotte out. Without her cane to help her walk quickly, Livie would be only a hindrance to any escape.

  How was she going to get Charlotte out of here, especially before the guard or anyone else returned? Resuming her somewhat ungainly hobble, she made it over to the window panel. It was too high for her to reach the area without assistance, but she tiptoed on her good leg and gave the glass a quick rattle. Locked tightly.

  Just as she had suspected.

  Her hopes fell. How on earth were they going to escape from this predicament? And had anyone yet realized they were missing?

  “What are we going to do, Lady Olivia?” Charlotte appeared determined, even if her voice quivered slightly.

  “Firstly, we are not going to worry or panic. We will get out of this mess, I promise you that. And secondly, you must start calling me Livie. All of my friends do.”

  Charlotte nodded, and a slow smile spread across her face, seemingly taking a measure of strength from Livie’s calmness. “Are they going to hurt us?” The girl’s gray eyes seemed determined to accept the truth no matter what that might be, as she stared steadily at Livie with her chin raised high.

  “I don’t know.” The girl deserved the truth, no matter how difficult it might be. “I’m not exactly certain what they want, but I am going to try to get them to release you.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “They don’t know who you are, and you must not let them know, do you understand? They cannot know, Charlotte, that is imperative.”

  “Cannot know what?” A calm and cultured voice spoke from the darkened hallway behind the cell gate.

  Both girls gasped and spun around toward the front of the cell.

  There was a man standing in the shadows beyond the cell door, his face hidden, though his voice vaguely familiar. All Livie could see were suit pants and black leather shoes.

  “And who might you be?” she asked him, not bothering to conceal the suspicion in her glare.

  “My identity is not important, though you can call me Orestes,” the man answered.

  “
Like Orestes, the son of Agamemnon?”

  “You know your Greek mythology. Good.” He sounded pleased. “I am terribly sorry for the state of your accommodations.” His hands waved across the barren cell before returning to his side. “I would have preferred to have visited with you under much more pleasant circumstances, but, alas, I have a job to do, though I wonder if doing so will be a tad premature. Indeed, I am beginning to think it might be. The Bastard seems very taken with you. Perhaps I should use it more to my advantage. What do you think, my lady?”

  “Honestly, I don’t really know what you are talking about,” Livie replied. Was the man a touch mad? He was talking in riddles. “If your reference is to the Bastard of Baker Street and him being taken with me, well you don’t know him at all then. Sebastian Colver cares nothing for anything other than his business enterprises.” Livie had once believed that, but now she knew she spoke a lie. Though perhaps she might be able to convince this man of it.

  “You are quite mistaken, I’m afraid.” His words were strangely without emotion. “A man doesn’t have three of his men protect a woman if he isn’t taken with her. Not even if she is now a business partner of his.”

  “You seem to know a great deal of his business dealings, whoever you are.”

  “It’s my life’s mission to know everything about him.”

  “Well, it shall not be a very long life anymore, now will it?”

  He paused, and she saw him straighten, but still he stayed in the shadows. “What do you mean by that?”

  “If what you say is true, then you’re a dead man walking. Once Sebastian Colver finds you, he will send you to Hell.”

  For a moment as his legs stiffened, it looked as if her words may have angered him, but then he chuckled. “I expected you to be interesting and possibly even brave, especially considering you had the nerve to confront the Bastard of Baker Street in his very own domain, but I didn’t realize you’d be quite so charming, too. What a pleasure talking to you is going to be.”