An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  Just like that, the dance came to an end, and Victoria curtsied to Christian whilst he bowed in return. Shaky from the adrenaline that coursed in her veins, she didn’t think she could manage another dance, despite her desire to continue. Christian appeared to notice her tremulous state, and slipped her arm through his, before helping her away from the fresh dancers who were eager to begin.

  “You did beautifully, Victoria,” Christian whispered. “I knew you would.”

  “I was lucky not to trip and break my neck,” Victoria retorted, though her grin belied her inner joy.

  “I would not have let you.” He brought her arm closer to his side, his eyes glistening with an emotion she didn’t quite understand—confusion of his own, perhaps?

  She gulped. “Did you manage to spot Sir John and Lord Mobberley?” She needed to divert their conversation, for the sake of her sanity. To even contemplate the idea that Christian could be confused by her was absurd beyond measure. He was betrothed. He had a fiancée who was currently in the hands of kidnappers. He could not have looked at her with an affectionate eye, even if he had wanted to. At least, that was what she convinced herself to be true.

  Christian nodded. “They have been talking by the window together. Sir John has glanced at Miss Longacre often, before resuming his discussion with Lord Mobberley.”

  “You saw all of that whilst we were dancing?” Victoria stood dumbfounded.

  “I told you I had more skill than you gave me credit for,” he replied, with a chuckle. “During my time at war, I learned how to observe multiple matters at once. That is how a soldier survives.”

  She mustered a small smile. “Yes, I should say you are full of surprises, Christian.”

  “I am glad you are starting to think so.”

  “Were you injured in the war? I do not believe I have ever asked you.” She felt inclined to learn more of his past, now that he had brought it into their sphere of conversation. Honestly, she knew she was guilty of being dismissive toward him in their previous talks, which she hoped to remedy.

  “Nothing that time has not healed,” he replied, though a flicker of pain crossed his handsome features. “My home in Cornwall helped a great deal with my recovery. As my father always used to say, there is nothing that sea air cannot repair.”

  Victoria frowned. “What about boats? I thought the salt in the sea air played merry havoc with boats, warping the wood and suchlike.”

  Christian burst out laughing. “You are a very literal creature, aren’t you? I doubt you ever have cause to wax poetic.”

  “Sorry,” she blushed intensely. “It is a force of habit. My father never saw any use in poeticism. He used to scold me for wasting time on romantic ideals, whenever I would mention the beauty of a winter morning and the first spray of frost upon the river path, or the way the fog rolled across the Thames before dawn.”

  Christian’s laughter died. “Then you’re not the one who should be sorry. I am sorry that you have had no leeway in your life to see the beauty in this world or heed the romantic. You must have been existing in shadow for so very long, knowing only the harsh undercurrents that threaten to pull us all under. Especially considering your employment, and the things that you see each day. Things no one should have to see, woman or man.”

  “I love my work,” she murmured defensively.

  “I know you do. It is one of the things I admire most about you. But one cannot exist solely for the purpose of their work, can they? Surely, that is too much for one person to bear, without any outlets for joy or poeticism or seeing the good in things?”

  Victoria faltered. “It… it is all I have known.”

  “Then, perhaps we have come into each other’s lives to help one another,” he said softly, making her heart pound. “Let us call this the first step toward you seeing the good in this world, as well as the bad. You have danced, when you thought you could not. And, if I am not mistaken, you took some joy from that dance?”

  She nodded slowly. “I did.”

  “Then, even though we are working toward capturing two men of great evil, I will endeavor to bring more joy into your life or at least teach you where you may find it. That way, you can alleviate the weight of your employment, in order to stop it from destroying you in the years to come.”

  Victoria’s heart lurched. “You think it may destroy me? Why would you think such a thing? I am no weakling. I am not feebleminded. I can endure as much as any of my male counterparts.”

  “I do not doubt that. Truly, you may be the strongest, most fearless person I have ever met, and yet I fear that it may take its toll on you because you are not without a heart. You feel the raw pain of the people you aid. I have heard it in your stories. You are their support and their strength, when they have none left. You are their hope and their light, as you are mine… in this task.” He looked away, his voice thick with emotion. “How could that not end up crushing you? When you take on the weight of everyone else’s suffering, how could it do anything but wear you down until there is nothing left of the person you were?”

  Victoria wasn’t sure how to respond. She had always presumed she would continue in this line of work until the day she died, going about her business in the way she had done ever since she took over from her father, after his death. She had never paused to think of the consequences of dealing with so much darkness and misery.

  Is he right? Oftentimes, after particularly grim cases which had not offered any positive outcome, she returned to her lodgings above the office and sobbed herself to sleep. Even in slumber, she was haunted by the faces of the dead; the men, women, and children that she had not been able to save. But she had always dragged herself out of bed in the morning and carried on regardless, knowing there were others out there that she might be able to save in time.

  What happened when that became harder to achieve, that determination to get out of her bed and go on with her day? Being young still, she had never really had to think on it. But now that Christian had brought it to her attention, she wondered if it truly might break her, one of these days.

  “I do not know that I possess the ability to look at the world in a rosier light, knowing what goes on,” she replied. “But I will try, if you are willing to teach me. After all, I have never backed away from a challenge.”

  He smiled proudly. “I hoped you might say that.”

  “Enough of this idle chatter.” She tilted her neck from side to side to unfurl the kinks. “Let us stand close to Sir John and Lord Mobberley and see if we might hear anything of their discussion.”

  “Very good.”

  Together, they made a show of talking about the dance they had just partaken in and came to stand near to the strange duo—one tall and thin, the other broad and imposing. An almost exact replica of Miss Jennings’ description of the two men who had accosted her and her ward.

  Victoria turned her back to them and pretended to laugh at something Christian had said, while her ears were pricked for whatever Sir John and Lord Mobberley had to say. They didn’t seem to notice the arrival of two eavesdroppers, which served Victoria well.

  “What do you make of my prospects?” Sir John muttered. Victoria knew it was him, from the raspier pitch of his voice. Lord Mobberley’s voice was deeper, matching his physique and resonating from the pit of that barrel chest.

  “I think you have as fine a chance as any of the other gentlemen present this evening,” Lord Mobberley answered. “You are an advisor to the crown, which may serve to put you ahead of an Earl or a Duke, or any of their sons. If Lord Whitfield could be assured that marrying his daughter to you would secure his business with the royal household itself, then I should say you will have no trouble in gaining an agreement to any proposal.”

  Sir John sucked air through his teeth. A sound that sent a shiver up Victoria’s spine. “She is a rare bird, is she not?”

  “A beauty, and no mistake. Sweet natured, too, which is far more difficult to come by. And she adores her mother and father, w
hich works to your benefit. She will obey anything they ask, even if it is marrying a wiry old vulture like yourself.”

  Sir John cackled. “Says you, you old boar.”

  Victoria frowned as their conversation gave way to raucous laughter; the crude, masculine sort that made her stomach churn and her hairs stand on end. The nature of their discussion did not make sense to her. If they planned to kidnap Miss Longacre, then why were they discussing Sir John’s marital prospects? Surely, it would have been easier for them to steal Miss Longacre away and force her into a union? Yet, that did not seem to be their intent.

  “Is all well?” Christian murmured.

  “I am no longer sure,” she replied.

  “Of what?”

  She took his arm and led him further away from the irksome duo. “When I saw that indent on Lord Mobberley’s finger, I felt certain that we had happened upon the criminals who took those young ladies. But they were talking about Sir John marrying Miss Longacre. They even spoke of making assurances with regards to the Viscount’s business endeavors. Those do not seem like the actions of someone with the intent to kidnap Miss Longacre, do they?”

  Christian tapped his chin in thought. “Perhaps it is a ruse, to put anyone listening off the scent?”

  “Mmm… perhaps.” The trouble was, she had witnessed so many evildoers in this world that she had come to recognize the subtle nuances between a ruse and the truth. And their discussion had sounded like nothing more than the banter of two friends with delusions of grandeur.

  Which meant the real kidnappers could be elsewhere, hiding among the revelers. Or, worse still, watching from the outside, waiting for their moment to strike.

  I hope they are better liars than any villain I have ever encountered. I hope I am wrong. But, deep down, she knew she was not.

  Chapter 12

  Time wore on, with late evening turning into the small hours of the morning. Gradually, the celebrants dispersed, trickling away from the ball in dribs and drabs until there were few left. The orchestra yawned, their playing growing increasingly labored until they, too, departed the townhouse.

  Victoria was used to long stretches without sleep, though she noticed Christian starting to sway slightly as he leaned up against the wall. But she didn’t have time to worry for him right now. Her eyes fixed upon Miss Longacre as she bid her goodnights to those who remained, announcing her plans to retire for the night.

  Do not declare it so publicly! she scolded in silent despair, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

  “She’s taking to her chambers,” Victoria whispered to Christian, giving him a sharp nudge in the ribs to wake him up.

  “Hmm?” He blinked wearily.

  Victoria sighed. “Should I continue alone? If you are only going to slow me down, then I must insist you return to your carriage and wait for me there.”

  She had spoken to Christian of her suspicions surrounding Sir John and Lord Mobberley, and the possibility that they may not be the kidnappers. He remained unconvinced, certain that they were the culprits, so Victoria had not pressed the matter. But her gut instinct continued to tell her that she was right.

  Christian shook his head. “No. I will be well. I am not leaving your side.”

  “You do not have to keep your promise to my mother. She knows I am capable of taking care of myself,” Victoria protested.

  “Nevertheless, I must keep the promise I made to myself. I am awake. I will not slow you down, I swear it.” Christian straightened up and rubbed his eyes. “Have you seen Sir John and Lord Mobberley?”

  Victoria gestured to the odd pair, who lay asleep in two chairs on the far side of the ballroom. Judging by the rise and fall of their chests, and the ungodly snore coming out of Lord Mobberley’s mouth, they were fast asleep. Unless, as before, they were better at maintaining a ruse than she suspected.

  “What do we do?” Christian asked.

  “I will follow Miss Longacre upstairs, whilst you find your way out into the gardens. Stay there and keep yourself hidden. Once I know the location of her bedchamber, I will shine a light in the nearest window, to let you know where I am.” She drew in a nervous breath. “After that, all we can do is wait. If the kidnappers use the windows, as they did with Lady Helena, then you will be able to apprehend them. If they use another means of entry, I will obscure the flame so that it flashes three times—that will be your signal to come into the house to aid me.”

  “But… I swore not to leave your side.” Christian gaped in horror.

  “Miss Longacre’s safety is of primary importance. We must divide and conquer, Christian terminology I am sure you understand, as a former soldier.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Very well, but let it be said that I do not like this at all.”

  “You don’t have to like it. All that matters is that Miss Longacre sees the dawn in the safety of her own bed, instead of being taken away to some unknown nightmare,” she replied firmly.

  Christian softened. “Just… make sure you keep yourself safe, in the meantime.”

  “I shall, as long as you make sure to run fast if I signal for your help.” She cast him a reassuring smile. It comforted her to know that he would not be far away if things went awry. This was the most intense case she had taken on in a long while, and though she ordinarily relied upon Benedict to be her cavalry, she felt even more confident with Christian covering her.

  “I will be beside you before you have even finished the third flash,” he quipped in reply.

  “We shall see,” she chuckled. “Now, be discreet in your path to the gardens. The last thing we need is you being thrown out of this house, under the impression that you are some sort of deviant.”

  He stared at her in shock. “You look so like a lady that I almost forgot that you are wholly Victoria.”

  She barked a laugh. “On your way, Christian. I must pursue Miss Longacre before I lose sight of her.”

  With that, they parted. Victoria headed out of the ballroom and followed Miss Longacre at a sensible distance, making it seem as though she had lost her way in case any of the staff happened to inquire as to what on earth she was doing.

  However, the entrance hall lay empty, giving her a clear route up the stairs after Miss Longacre. Victoria ducked back into one of the doorways and watched as Miss Longacre paused at the end of the hallway, before entering the very last chamber on the left hand side.

  Good… it looks out over the gardens. She froze, realizing what she had thought. If the kidnappers also knew the location of Miss Longacre’s chamber, then they had further reason to deliberately select her as their quarry. Her bedchamber had easier access by way of a ladder, without alerting suspicions from other chambers along the hall.

  Victoria’s heart thundered as she edged along the corridor and came to a halt at the end of a narrow passage that led to nothing but a window nook. It stood directly beside Miss Longacre’s bedchamber, separating it from the next room over.

  Casting a look back over her shoulder, to make sure nobody was watching her, she slipped down the passage and stopped in front of the window. A candelabra already sat upon the sill, unlit. Delving into the neckline of her gown, Victoria removed a box of matches and struck one, lighting the blackened wicks until each candle flickered into renewed life.

  Perhaps there is some use in a gown, after all. It served as an excellent hiding place for all and sundry, and no policeman or gentleman would dare to investigate beneath that secret fabric.

  I hope you are in position. She peered out of the window into the shadowed gardens beneath. The moon overhead strained to cast its glow upon the world, but only a crescent poked through the velvet black of the night. She imagined the stretch of greenery looked much like that of the Pelsley’s townhouse, but it was hard to make out any significant features among the permeating darkness. Indeed, she could not even see the fence that ran along the back of the garden, though she knew it was there.

  They will steal her from her bed and take her
into the alley behind the house, where there is undoubtedly a carriage waiting to carry them away. She squinted toward the gloom, in the hopes of discovering that imagined carriage, but only the night met her intense gaze.

  “Hello? Is someone there?” A voice startled Victoria.

  Her head whipped around, to find a shadow looming at the head of the passageway. “Hello?” she replied, knowing she had no time to hide. Nor was there anywhere to hide here.

  “Who goes there?” Miss Longacre stepped forward.

  “Lady Laura, Miss Longacre.” Victoria rallied, knowing she needed to keep up appearances. “I wanted to thank you for this evening, but you disappeared before I could locate you.”