The Viscount's Salvation (Honorable Rogue Book 3)

by Vikki Vaught

  By the time he had it in place, he had broken out in a cold sweat and sapped much of his energy. Fortunately, the shirt was more a smock and several sizes too big, especially in his emaciated state. He had lived on crusts of moldy bread and watered down ale during his recent imprisonment with the general’s band of vicious, so called soldiers—more like deserters.

  When he finally managed to pull himself to a standing position, he had to grab the wall for support. His head swam, and he feared he would swoon like an old maiden aunt. Aimee ran to him and attempted to steady him. “I’m fine, child. I just need to rest here a moment.”

  “Are you sure you must go outside?” she queried. “I do not think you are ready for that yet.”

  At this point, he was not sure either, but his bladder demanded he empty it, and as soon as possible. “I have no choice. I must have privacy.”

  Understanding shone in her pretty little face as her cheeks turned red. “Oh, certainly. Let me help you.”

  Aimee could not possibly assist him, even though he probably weighed less than ten stone when he normally weighed at least twelve. The child was too small, but he saw the determination in her bright blue eyes. He did not have the heart to refuse her help.

  Between her guiding his steps, and him holding onto the stone wall, he slowly made it to the entrance. “I shall slip outside for a moment.” Seeing the worry in her face, he told her, “I will call for you if I need further assistance.”

  Pushing aside the shrubs, he stepped beyond the mouth of the cave. The cold air cut through him like a knife. His woolen shirt offered little protection against the rain and wind. Fumbling with the buttons on his breeches, he finally managed to free his cock. Relief washed over him as he released the pressure on his bladder. Once he had accomplished his objective, he gingerly made his way back to the warmth of the hideout.

  By the time he reached his blanket, his teeth chattered and his fingers had turned blue. Damn. It was cold for the first week of October. His back burned and his jaw ached. His nose was so swollen, it distorted his vision. Cortland closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

  A few hours later, he awoke to the sound of sizzling meat over the fire. Opening his eyes, he noticed Gerrard had returned and slowly turned his find on the makeshift skewer he had rigged above the flames. The smell of the roasting rabbit permeated the small confines of the cave. The thought of having meat after so long had his mouth watering.

  Cortland struggled to a sitting position. The lacerations on his back pulled and pain racketed through him. He had to take a few deep breaths to keep from crying out. Once he made it into an upright position, he praised the boy. “Congratulations on your successful hunting foray. I haven’t had any meat in quite some time.”

  “It will be done shortly,” Gerrard replied. “How does your back feel? I shall change the bandages and replace the poultice after we eat.”

  “Thank you. How did you learn to treat injuries?” he asked.

  Gerrard continued to turn the skewer. “My grand-mère was a healer. I watched her as she took care of cuts our servants used to have. Five years ago, she also treated my père after we escaped capture from marauders who came to loot our château. The only reason we survived was because our faithful servants helped us.”

  This young lad never ceased to amaze him. “You’re so young to remember something of that nature. You truly amaze me, Gerrard.”

  By this time, the young boy had removed the rabbit and divided it into three servings. He brought Cortland his portion and explained, “I have had no choice. I have to protect my sister.”

  So fierce and determined, Cortland’s admiration for the child climbed higher. “You are certainly resourceful and brave. I could not have managed as well as you have when I was your age. You have had to grow up quickly, mon ami.”

  As he ate the succulent rabbit, he pondered over everything Gerrard had told him. They needed to leave this place and make their way to the coast as soon as possible. It would be safest if they traveled at night, and they needed to leave under the cover of darkness to avoid the soldiers who were surely hunting for him.

  Money would be a problem, since he did not have any. He had nothing but the threadbare clothes on his back. Regardless, as soon as he gained some of his strength and his injuries had healed enough to allow simple movement, they would need to leave.

  After they finished their meal, Gerrard changed his bandage and replaced the concoction he used to treat his lacerations. Although it burned like the very devil as the boy applied it, he gritted his teeth and kept silent.

  When Gerrard finished, he said, “My sister and I have decided to accept your kind offer.”

  He met the boy’s direct gaze. “I’m pleased to hear it. I want to thank you again for helping me. Hopefully, I shall be ready to depart in a couple of days.”

  “Let us take it a day at a time, for now,” the boy mused. “We should sleep. I’m sure it has been a tiring day for you, Capitaine.”

  “I must admit I am worn out,” he wearily replied.

  The young lad added several pieces of wood to the fire. “If you need anything through the night, do not hesitate to awaken me.”

  Cortland could not believe this young man had so much fortitude, but he was grateful he did. The brother and sister curled up together on one side of the fire, their bright curls intermingled. Cortland wrapped his blanket around him on the other side. Exhausted from his day, he fell asleep immediately.

  Over the next few days, Cortland took it easy, and allowed his back to mend. Gerrard provided him with more nourishment than he’d had in a long time, and he grew stronger every day. It galled him to allow the boy to find food for all three of them, but the lad managed to hunt small animals each day, and he had gone to the village and acquired other provisions as well. He’d even found a heavy wool jacket and a pair of boots for Cortland, of which he was grateful.

  As they again sat around the fire and ate yet another meal of tasty rabbit stew, Cortland asked, “Can you be ready to leave tonight? I greatly fear if we delay any longer, the soldiers will find me, and it would not bode well for you and your sister. After all, you helped me escape. I have no funds or weapons, but together, we will survive.”

  “I have some money…and a few weapons, Capitaine. I agree. We should leave as soon as possible, but are you ready to travel? Your back is better, but not fully healed. I would hate to see you undo my handiwork.”

  “I feel immeasurably better than I did three days ago,” he assured him. “I shall be fine. I suggest we get some sleep and leave in the middle of the night.”

  “If you are sure, then we will do this.”

  After the children fell asleep, Cortland planned their journey. They were about eighty miles northwest of Paris, so Calais was more than a hundred miles away. Since they would be traveling on foot, unless they found someone to give them a ride part of the way, it would take a minimum of five days, if they could keep up the pace.

  While he was not as physically fit after such a long time in captivity, he had endured great hardship and traveled many miles a day with his regiment. The children seemed strong and certainly determined. They could do this.

  The worst part was not having enough warm clothing to combat the cold temperatures and the stormy weather. It was unseasonably cold for this early in October. Of course, he had survived so far with very little clothing, and the cellars he’d lived in did not have any heat. He would manage, no matter how hard. Knowing he needed to get a few hours’ sleep, he settled within his blanket.

  Over the last two months, he’d been plagued by horrific nightmares of all he had endured, but so far, he had not had any over the past three nights. Perhaps, they would bother him no more. He certainly hoped that was the case. Having developed the ability to catch sleep whenever possible, he promptly fell asleep, praying the nightmares would stay away.

  Gerrard awoke him in the middle of the night. He had packed all their belongings, and he and Aimee were ready
to depart. Cortland rolled up his blanket and joined them at the cave entrance. “Are we ready to do this?”

  Gerrard and Aimee’s grave faces looked at him and nodded. The young boy handed him a knife. “We are, Capitaine.”

  Wrapping the knitted scarf around his neck Gerrard had purloined from somewhere, he slipped the blade into the waist of his breeches. Then Cortland and the children set out in what he hoped was a northwest direction. Their adventure had begun.

  CHAPTER TWO

  London

  Mid-October 1803

  Lady Mary hummed as she thumbed through the bookshelf on the upper level of her father’s library in his Grosvenor Square townhouse. As she looked for a novel to read before bed, she heard the door open. She blew out her candle as she ducked behind the drapes concealing the window seat. Her father would be livid if he found her at this time of night…and in her nightclothes. The Earl of Melton believed in strict discipline and did not spare the rod, especially with his nineteen-year-old daughter. Mary held her breath, praying he had not seen the light nor heard her when he entered.

  She listened as he began speaking to whoever entered the room with him. “Please take a seat. I’m surprised by your visit this late at night. What do you want, Worthington?”

  Mary shrank further into her hiding place. The Marquess of Worthington was one of the men her father brought to the house for his vile, debauched parties. The man had cornered her on more than one occasion, and she had barely escaped with her virtue intact the last time. Thank goodness, her aunt had walked in the music room.

  Why did her father sound so disturbed? Normally, he was on good terms with the marquess. Their friendship went back for many years. She wanted to sneak to the railing and peek over it, but she dared not risk it.

  “You know why I am here, Melton,” the marquess sneered. “It is time to settle the huge gambling debt you owe me. I demand you honor your marker.”

  Her father blustered, “I need another month, or…perhaps we can work something out. I have seen the way you look at my daughter. She would make you a fine wife. I would be happy to give her to you if we can come to terms. She has a fine dowry, and she comes from good breeding stock. Before her useless mother ran off with her lover, she did give me three sons. I know you still need an heir.”

  Mary’s heart dropped to her feet. Worthington was a notorious rake and more than twice her age. Surely her father could not be serious. The man had already buried three wives, and the last one under suspicious circumstances six months ago. If the gossip she had overheard was correct.

  Several moments passed before the marquess answered. “You say her dowry is large? If that is the case, why do you not use it to pay your debt?”

  Her father retorted, “Because the dowry came to her through her grandmother, and my own mother made sure I could not touch it. It was part of her widow’s jointure.”

  “Ah, I see,” Worthington mused. “Not that I need the money, but how much is she worth? Besides her value as a wife who can give me sons.”

  Her face grew hot, and she fisted her hands. They were talking as if she were a breeding mare on sale at Tattersall’s. She had not thought even her father could stoop so low. What would she do if the marquess agreed? She’d heard the tales the maids told regarding Lord Worthington. They had sounded afraid that he would catch them alone and rape them. Evidently the man had some type of dreadful disease, and they did not want to contract it.

  “Five thousand pounds,” her father replied, “and she brings with her a small estate in Northampshire. Winston Hall turns a tidy profit each year.”

  Mary covered her mouth to hold in her gasp. She had no knowledge of this. Her life had gone downhill once her sweet grandmother had passed away when she was ten. She should not be surprised, though. Grandmama had told her she would watch out for her, but she thought she’d meant while she was alive.

  “That does sweeten the pot.” She could hear the glee in the marquess’ voice. “I have had the chance to talk to Mary on several occasions, and I do find her…very appealing. She seems to be a sweet-natured, biddable, young girl, one I could mold to my…ah, tastes.”

  Her father replied, “You will find Mary very willing to please, my friend. She’s lived a sheltered life and is a complete innocent. Do we have an agreement?”

  There was a pause while the marquess undoubtedly contemplated her father’s vile proposal. “I leave for my estate in the morning. I shall take this under careful consideration and let you know my decision when I return next month, but rest assured it will be a favorable one.” Mary heard the creak of the leather upholstery and guessed the man stood up. The marquess spoke again. “I will take my leave now, so I bid you a goodnight.”

  “Very good, Worthington. I look forward to your decision.” His voice moved away as he spoke, and she heard the door close.

  She waited several minutes until she was sure her father had left the library with the marquess before she ventured from her hiding place. Her knees shook as she made the climb down the ladder to the lower level. She crept to the door and opened it a crack to make sure her father had disappeared from sight. Finding the hall empty, she quietly made her way up the stairs to her room. Once she made it inside and closed her door, she slumped against it as tears slipped down her cheeks.

  She’d always known her father did not love her, but she would never have imagined he would offer to sell her to settle gambling debts. It would do no good to talk to Aunt Mildred since she was her father’s sister. Her maiden aunt would surely be relieved she would no longer have to act as her chaperone.

  She moved over to her bed, then crawled in and burrowed under the covers. Her heart pounded at the thought of becoming that horrid man’s wife, but what could she do? Her father was her guardian and could do whatever he wished with her. If she refused, he would beat her and threaten to harm her fourteen- and fifteen-year-old brothers. Thank goodness Michael and Charles had left for school the previous month.

  Possibly, she should write to her elder brother, Ben. Of course, he could not do anything while he was at Oxford. Her twin was only ten minutes older than she, and dependent on their father as well. If he tried to interfere, Father would cut off his quarterly allowance. No, she could not involve her gentle brother. While he might be the eldest, she’d always felt protective toward him because he suffered from asthma. Stress over her could bring on an attack.

  Mary buried her head in her pillows and wept bitter tears until at last, she slipped into a troubled sleep.

  When Mary awoke the following morning, she stretched as she watched the dust motes dance in the weak sunlight streaming in through the crack in the drapes for a moment, then panic set in. She jerked up straight. Frantic to figure a way to circumvent her father’s plan, she rang for her maid. While she waited, she paced from the window to the bed, twisting her hands. She ransacked her mind for a solution.

  When her maid arrived with her breakfast tray, she attempted to eat, but her stomach was so twisted in knots, she feared she would cast up her accounts. She pushed her meal away. “I’m not very hungry this morning. Please take this away, then return to help me dress.”

  “Certainly, my lady. I will return momentarily.” Ella removed the tray and hurried from the room.

  Unable to wait for her maid’s return, she went behind her privacy screen and began her morning ritual. By the time Ella returned, Mary had washed herself and donned her undergarments. The maid laced her stays and helped her dress in her drab, blue muslin walking dress. “I’m going to visit my friend, Kathleen. I received word she has returned to town. Meet me downstairs and we shall depart.”

  Ella curtsied and rushed to prepare for their departure. Mary left her bedchamber and went downstairs to await her maid. She paced back and forth, eager to be on her way, hoping to avoid meeting her father this morning.

  Good fortune did not look upon her, because her father entered the vestibule, and barked, “Daughter, are you going somewhere?”

&n
bsp; Ella appeared with her pelisse, and she slipped her arms into the garment. She dared not tell her father of her intent to visit her friend. He would insist she wait for her aunt, and that would never do. “I’m going to the park for a walk. Did you need me, sir?”

  “No, just wondered where you were off to so early,” he told her. “The weather is not conducive for a stroll in the park. The wind is blowing and the skies look ready to give us a drenching. Better take an umbrella with you. The last thing I need is for you to be laid low with an ague.”

  Of course. That would interfere with his nefarious plans for her. He surely had no care for her well-being. At least he was not going to forbid the outing. “I shall, Papa. Are you attending Lady Martin’s musicale with us this evening?”

  Annoyance flitted across his florid face. “You know I have no tolerance for the caterwauling of her three daughters. Your aunt is chaperone enough for you. I will be at my club.”

  Relief flooded her. At least he would not be around to berate her as he normally did. “Then, I shall see you tomorrow, I suppose. Well, if I want to miss the rain, I need to be on my way.”

  Without another word, he turned and went down the hall to his study. With her maid in tow, Mary left the house and turned toward Kathleen’s townhouse. The wind blew so strong; it almost ripped her bonnet from her head several times before she made it to her friend’s home.

  Although early for a morning call, Kathleen would not mind her presumptuous visit. She tapped on the door and a footman opened it. “I would like to see Lady Billingsley.”

  The man gave her a courteous smile as he stepped aside to allow her entrance. “Certainly, Lady Mary. Her ladyship is in the morning room. I shall ask her if she is receiving this morning. I will return momentarily.” Bowing, the servant went to ascertain whether Kathleen would accept her call.