by Tarah Scott
Aunt Leana shook her head. “Not that. Lord Magnus.”
Mia stiffened. “You have miscalculated, Aunt. It isn’t me he wants, but Angeline.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I saw the way he looked at you.”
“You saw what you wanted to see,” Mia said. “I tell you, it is Angeline he wants. Tonight, he couldn’t rid himself of me quickly enough. He handed me off to Lady Chastity and went his way.”
“But—”
Mia shook her head. “It is finished. We must sell the estate as we planned. Joshua will finish school and help Robert attend university. Perhaps there will be enough left after paying the creditors to settle a modest amount on Angeline.”
Leana plopped down on the chair nearest Mia. “I do not understand. I was so sure he felt a tenderness for you.”
“For years, you watched my father make women think he had a tenderness for them. It comes easy for them.”
Her aunt nodded absently. “Joshua might marry well in a few years. Perhaps he will be able to help care for Angeline.”
If he isn’t foolish enough to marry for love instead of duty, Mia thought.
Mia stood. “Get some rest. Tomorrow will look brighter,” she said, but didn’t believe the words.
* * *
Magnus emerged from the arboretum and glanced skyward. Filmy clouds drifted across the moon. He estimated the time to be roughly three a.m. He’d walked the grounds for at least an hour and a half yet hadn’t brought his lust into submission. How long had it been since he’d lain with a woman? Six months…a year? Fourteen months, he realized, and grimaced. He wasn’t nineteen years old. Fourteen months no longer seemed like forever. But the image of Mia’s breasts straining against her bodice drew his bollocks up in pleasurable discomfort. Christ, the way he reacted, he might as well be nineteen.
Stirling had a pond on the property. Magnus was half tempted to walk the mile and jump in. The water would be freezing this time of year, which was exactly what he needed.
Nae. What he needed was to return to Barkely Hall. Get as far away from Lady Mia as he could. He should have left the moment he’d handed her off to Lady Chastity. What made him think he could remain at the party and not be driven mad by her proximity? More important, why had he ignored good sense? He would only further damage her reputation by staying.
Magnus headed for the stables Tomorrow, he would send a carriage for his belongings. How the devil was he going to live next door to her and not eventually—
Christ, he couldn’t allow himself so much as a thought in that direction.
He reached the stables five minutes later and entered. To his surprise, a dim light lit the far end of the darkened building. He took three steps, then slowed at the murmur of male voices. Who was in the stables at three thirty in the morning? A bay hung his head out of a stall and watched Magnus slowly advance.
Halfway down the aisle, Magnus halted when a familiar male voice said, “Never fear, I will convince him.”
Young.
“You had better,” another man replied.
Shock swept through Magnus. Blane? His uncle was here? The two men must occupy one of the stalls up ahead. Magnus spun and started back the way he’d come.
Two heartbeats later, Young called, “Magnus?”
Magnus kept going.
“Magnus.” This time his uncle called him.
He kept walking.
Quick bootfalls drew near. Magnus whirled and came face to face with his uncle.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Magnus demanded, then realized how stupid the question was and added, “Leave,” then turned.
His uncle’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. Magnus spun and drove a fist into the older man’s belly. Blane doubled over and stumbled back two paces. Young caught him. Magnus’s hands worked at his sides.
“There is no need for this, Magnus,” Young snapped. “We have told you, we knew nothing about how those girls were being treated. We put a stop to the prostitution once we discovered the truth.”
“I think this has more to do with that pretty skirt he was dancing with,” Blane said in a strained voice. “What if she learned that you once owned a gambling hell and brothel? If that got out, your attentions would ruin her. Or have you already ruined her?”
Cold fury snapped Magnus’s mind into focus. “Come near me again and I will set a runner on both of you.”
Young had the audacity to look affronted. “We haven’t broken any law.”
“Owning a gambling hell is illegal,” he said. “Not to mention prostitution. The fact the girls were underage will ensure you two never again taste freedom.”
Young’s expression finally cracked. “You were part owner of The Honeydrop.
You took money—”
“I don’t give a damn,” Magnus cut in. “I will go to prison, if that is what it takes to rid the world of you two.”
Young gave a nasty laugh. “And risk ending up in prison with the two of us—perhaps even in the same cell? I find that unlikely.”
“You are correct,” Magnus said. “But it won’t be that I was part owner of an illegal gaming hell that lands me in prison.”
Young frowned, then understanding dawned in his eyes. “You are threatening to kill me?”
Magnus gave him a cool smile. “I am promising to kill both of you.”
“You would hang,” Blane said, but Magnus recognized fear in his uncle’s declaration.
The men stared at each other for a long moment, then Young grasped Blane’s arm and pulled him toward Magnus. Magnus stiffened, then stood unmoving as they passed him. He watched until they passed through the opening in the door and disappeared from sight.
Were the men weekend guests? He had to speak with Stirling. He hesitated. Should he leave, as planned, or stay the night, speak with Stirling first thing in the morning, and then leave? It was nearing four in the morning. Stirling was an early riser. Magnus would sleep for three hours, then rise and speak with him before returning to Barkely Hall.
Magnus strode down the aisle toward the door, his fury in full sail. There had to be some way to ensure his uncle and Young left him alone. For the first time, he considered enlisting the aid of his father. Was it worth telling his father about The Honeydrop in order to put a stop to Blane and Young’s advances?
He slowed as he passed the second to last stall from the door. If the two men waited outside, he might not be able to stop himself from killing both of them with his bare hands. A door creaked behind him. Magnus started to turn. Pain slashed through his neck and spiked through his skull.
“What the—”
He crashed onto his knees and the world went black.
Chapter Ten
Magnus swam upward through murk, each stroke keeping rhythm with the pounding in his head. He reached for a sense of comprehension. The pounding intensified. An unrecognizable noise pierced his consciousness and a faraway light came into view.
Slowly, eyesight began to focus. He sat in a chair in a small unfurnished room—an antechamber of some kind, perhaps—with wood paneled walls. His hands were tied behind his back, left and right ankles tied to the corresponding chair legs. The light, a single taper, flickered on a bare shelf directly ahead.
Movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention. With great care, he shifted his head and a figure stepped from the shadows into view. Joshua? Someone else, a lad of about fifteen, stood near the wall beyond Joshua.
“Is this a dream or am I in Hell?” Magnus croaked. Even the small effort to speak made his head ache like the devil. He placed his money on Hell.
“You will wish it was Hell,” Joshua said.
Magnus gritted his teeth and demanded, “What did you hit me with? My head feels like someone is beating the inside of my skull with an anvil.”
“What are you doing here?” Joshua said.
“Where is here?” Magnus asked.
Joshua shook his head. “Nae. What I mean is, why did you purchase
Barkely Hall?”
“To farm and ranch.”
Joshua scoffed. “A man like you does not become a farmer.”
Magnus frowned. “A man like me?”
The boy’s expression hardened. “A man who owns an Edinburgh brothel and gaming hell.”
Magnus’s mind cleared. He locked gazes with the boy. “What would you know of brothels and gaming hells?”
“I know you owned The Honeydrop.”
How the bloody hell did a country boy know that?
Magnus kept his expression neutral. “Then you must know I shut down the hell.”
“I will not allow you to hurt my sister,” he snapped.
Ah, now so this is the boy’s concern.
“I assume you are referring to Lady Mia?” Magnus said.
Joshua didn’t reply.
“Why would I want to hurt your sister?”
“You are damned good at playing innocent. Well, I am not fooled.”
“Maybe he really doesn’t know what you are talking about,” the younger boy said.
“Shut up, Robert,” Joshua snapped, then to Magnus, “I am a gentleman. I will pay my debt. But, if you hurt Mia, I will kill you.”
Debt? Did this have something to do with Mr. Barton?
“What debt?”
“Don’t think that you can force me to sell our property in order to honor my marker. I will not do that to my family.”
Mr. Barton had mentioned a bill, not a marker. Christ, his head throbbed.
Magnus forced patience. “To whom do you owe money?”
Joshua’s mouth thinned.
The younger boy—who Magnus now realized shared the same dark hair, brown eyes and full mouth as Joshua—looked from Joshua to him, then said, “Why, your uncle, of course.”
Magnus silently cursed. How the devil had the boy had the ill fortune to wind up owing money to his uncle?
“How much is the marker for?” Magnus asked.
Joshua narrowed his eyes. “Do you really think I am foolish enough to believe that my debt to your uncle and your desire to purchase our property is a coincidence—not to mention, your attention to Mia?”
Magnus nodded slowly—very slowly. “I can see how it would be hard to believe. I do not quite believe it myself.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, I am the fool, lad, no’ you.”
“You’re a fool if you think I will allow you to hurt my family—even if you are a marquess’s son.”
“On my honor, I have no intention of hurting your family.”
Disdain shone in his eyes. “You are not a man of honor.”
“I can see how it might look that way. How can I prove the truth to you?”
The boy hesitated.
“We could untie him,” Robert said. “Give him a chance to prove he means no harm.”
“He can do harm before we could stop him,” Joshua said.
Magnus lifted his brows. “How long do you intend to keep me tied to this chair?”
Doubt flickered in his eyes.
“I’m not angry you kidnapped me,” Magnus said. “I understand what prompted you. However, I do not intend to harm your family. My desire to buy land from your family is solely for the purpose of farming and ranching.”
“You don’t intend to open another gaming hell?” Robert asked.
“Nae. In fact, I shut down The Honeydrop.”
Joshua regarded him. “You threatened to kill Lord Blane and that other man.”
“You overheard our conversation.” Magnus gave a single nod. “That should tell you that I am not part of their scheme.”
“He does sound sincere,” Robert said.
The elder brother sent him a disgusted look. “Of course he sounds sincere.”
“He is right. We cannot keep him tied up forever.”
“We could put him on a ship bound for America,” Joshua said.
“That’s preposterous,” Robert said, and Magnus agreed.
“I will decide later. You can sleep with me in my room tonight.”
Robert hesitated. “Should we gag him?”
“Nae.” Joshua shook his head. “He can scream all he likes and no one will hear him down here.”
Robert hesitated.
Joshua rolled his eyes. “Stop fretting. We played in these tunnels over the years enough to know. Now come along. We must reach my room before the servants rise. We cannot chance Mia or Aunt Leana seeing you.”
So, they were still at Westbourne Tower. This had to be a hidden room. Magnus wondered how the boys thought they might smuggle him out of Stirling’s castle and force him onto a ship bound for, well, anywhere, without being detected.
“Think about what you’re doing, lad,” Magnus said. “I understand what motivated you to kidnap me. But to leave me here—and to consider sending me to the Colonies—are actions that can land you in prison.”
“Prison?” Robert paled. “Joshua, I do no’ want to go to prison.”
“You won’t go to prison,” Joshua said with the arrogance born of youth. “He cannot escape. Plus, he is the criminal. Come. We can decide what to do tomorrow.” He crossed to the candle and picked it up.”
“At least leave the candle,” Magnus said. ‘Tis inhumane to leave a man tied to a chair in the dark.”
Joshua hesitated.
“He’s right, Josh. We cannot leave him like that.”
Joshua gave a curt nod and set down the candle. Then the two boys crossed to the righthand wall. Magnus watched carefully as Joshua reached for the edge of the single shelf and pulled back a lever. The wall sprang open and the two boys left, pulling the door shut behind them.
Magnus began working his hands in an effort to loosen his wrist bonds. To his frustration, the cords chaffed his wrists, but the knots remained snug. He twisted and examined the chair. A simple chair, commonly found in kitchens. His head still thrummed, though not as badly as it had when he first awoke. That might change in a moment.
He leaned his weight forward, which lifted the back legs off the floor, then leaned as far forward as he dared. Magnus gritted his teeth, tucked his chin to his chest, then flipped onto his back. The chair broke with a loud crack. Pieces skittered across the wooden floor. The wind whooshed from his lungs and he wheezed in several shallow pants before the pounding in his head slowed its rhythm and the discomfort in his ribs eased. When he got out of this, he would whip the two lads.
At length, he slid his hands down over his buttocks, then over his feet. He removed the broken pieces of the legs still tied to his ankles and shook the rope free. Magnus examined the ropes binding his wrists. He had to give the brothers credit, they knew how to tie a proper half hitch knot. His efforts had only tightened the rope binding his writs.
Using his teeth, he managed to loosen the knot enough to escape his bonds. Magnus stood, fetched the candle, then went to the door and located the lever. He opened the door and pulled it back wide enough to fit through the gap.
The narrow passage stayed straight for about eighty feet, then abruptly ended. Now all he had to do was find the damn button that opened the door. He began on the wall directly ahead and felt around the stone. A third of the way from the righthand wall, he discerned a light depression. He pressed and a door about five feet high clicked open.
Soft firelight shone through the crack. Magnus inched the door open, then pulled aside a tapestry covering the door. He ducked through the doorway into a hallway lit by a lamp on a table not far ahead. He closed the door, then released the tapestry and scanned the hallway. Four evenly spaced doors occupied the lefthand wall and three, the right. A painting of a wooded scene hung to the left of the first lefthand door. He guessed this to be one of the guest wings.
His end of the hallway dead ended at the beautiful tapestry of a hunting scene. Stairs had to be on the opposite end of the hallway. He started along the carpeted floor and reached the second door when a murmur of voices caused him to hesitate and the doorknob on the next do
or on the right jiggled.
Magnus whirled toward the door to his right. The wonder of who might be in the room flashed through his mind as he grasped the knob. The knob turned. He entered. The bed located to the right was empty. The third door down opened fully and light spilled into the hallway. Magnus closed the door to a mere slit, then listened.
Footsteps grew louder. He tensed. Surely, the person approaching wasn’t the occupant of this room? He stepped to the left of the door in anticipation of the door opening, but the person kept walking. He was too old for these sorts of shenanigans. The door nearest the secret entrance opened, then closed.
Magnus released a breath. His instincts had always been impeccable. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Carefully, he pulled the door shut, stopping just short of the latch engaging, then turned toward the stairs. He crept forward in silence. The third door on the right unexpectedly opened, and he instinctively swung around as someone crashed into him.
Magnus seized the woman’s shoulders as he spun with the momentum of their collision. He stumbled backwards through the open doorway. His boot heel snagged on the rug and he fell. In the instant before they hit the floor, his mind registered the familiar fair hair. Mia cried out. Her head struck his jaw. His teeth jarred in unison with her weight compressing his abdomen—her leg jammed against his bollocks.
“Holy God, woman, are you trying to unman me?” He cursed.
She shoved to a seated position atop his abdomen. Her robe gaped, revealing a thin linen shift. A pretty lace nightcap sat askew on her head. Her thick blonde locks tumbled down one shoulder.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing here?” she demanded.
His mind muddled with the pressure of her buttocks on his growing erection. He really should have gone home after leaving her with Lady Chastity. Even his wound now ached.
Footsteps sounded behind him and a man burst into the room. The man stumbled to a halt beside them and stared, mouth agape. Mia’s eyes widened. A woman gasped behind Magnus. An instant later, Mia’s aunt appeared beside the gentleman, who still stared as if he’d never seen a woman straddling a man’s hips.
