Tempted

by Rita Thedford

  An Li's sudden smile lit her face. “Ah, but you friend to An Li. You must say!” Then her smile faded into a solemn expression. “I love Stephen in my deep heart,” she vowed, placing her hands over her chest. “But to love is to sometimes let go. He must find his place in world, just as An Li must do."

  Elizabeth's heart broke for both of them. “Stephen has left for the Orient. Did you know?"

  An Li shook her head.

  "Are you certain the two of you could not go somewhere other than England? Perhaps you could join him in China?"

  An Li gasped. “No! Too bad place for me.” She took Elizabeth's hands. “There is no place for us. Perhaps in another time, but not now. Even America would not welcome white man and Chinese girl."

  Elizabeth sighed and pulled her close. “I wish things could be different."

  "I do, too."

  Thomas hurried forward to help Elizabeth into the curricle. Finding his place on the elevated seat behind the hood, he sat back for the drive ahead. She took up the reigns and gave An Li a smile before driving away.

  Staring at the winding road ahead, Elizabeth fought off the sadness of An Li and Stephen's situation. Now was not the time for worry. They were adults with minds of their own. Yes, An Li fought Stephen's affections, but once upon a time, she'd done much the same regarding Christian.

  The trees overhanging the dirt road were huge and imposing, showing the first red and gold leaves of fall. A slight rustling of them in the wind along with the soft clip clop of shod hooves lulled her into memory. Not far from here she was attacked. Thank God Christian had been there to save the day. She remembered the rain, Imogen Brown's cabin, and the touch of his hands on her body. She remembered firelight on his naked skin.

  Sighing deeply, she felt a sense of peace overwhelm her before a sudden sharp gust of wind buffeted her back into the here and now. A deep, utterly disturbing silence fell around her. For some unknown reason, her fingers twitched and the world fell silent. A shiver took her, so she clicked her tongue and tapped the reigns to speed the horses.

  She had just rounded the bend when she spotted an oncoming coach. Charlotte House was vastly secluded and a feeling of foreboding knotted her belly. Had some father or husband learned the secret of Charlotte House and come to fetch one of the women?

  She had to know. Slowing her curricle just a bit, she tried to discern to whom the carriage belonged. It was a pretty day with only a slight chill, but the driver wore a heavy cloak. The collar of the garment was pulled up around the driver's ears. That, coupled with the tall hat he wore, completely concealed his features.

  A hand suddenly appeared from the carriage window as the conveyance rapidly slowed. “Yoo hoo. Your Grace, please pull over."

  A white handkerchief waved from a feminine hand. Slowing to a stop, Elizabeth saw Beatrice's dark curls peek from beneath a straw bonnet. Now that she knew Beatrice's secrets, Elizabeth nodded warily. The woman was untrustworthy. Nevertheless, the past was none of her affair. Determined to be polite, she smiled. “How do you do, Lady Beatrice? What a surprise."

  Beatrice said, “A lovely day for a drive is it not? And what a surprise it is to find you so far from your husband's side. I understand that congratulations are in order. The whole of London is abuzz over the news of your marriage."

  Elizabeth caught a hint of malice in the woman's words and suppressed a shiver. “We are very happy."

  "Oh, and I am sure that you are. Such a handsome man, your Christian. I watched him grow up, you know. Even then, he was dashing."

  "I am sure he was.” Nervously, Elizabeth glanced around, wishing to be anywhere but here, facing this awkward conversation.

  Beatrice leaned closer to the window and propped her arms there. She smiled. “So many changes for the both of you. The future is quite a mysterious thing, is it not? Why anything in the world could happen. You could possibly live happily ever after, then again, perhaps tragedy will interfere. ‘Twould be a shame."

  Before Elizabeth could assimilate her cryptic words, a shot rang out.

  Jerking in alarm, she screamed and twisted in her seat in time to see a bloom of red color the front of Thomas’ white shirt. The impetus of the pistol shot knocked him backward, and he lay on the dusty road, staring sightlessly upward.

  "Thomas!” she cried.

  Clambering from the curricle as the horses wildly reared, she stumbled into the road. In the distance, Beatrice giggled madly as her coachman approached. His hat was tossed aside, showing pale blond hair that blew in the wind. Park! It was Park Mansfield who'd shot Thomas. Grinning at her, he tucked the pistol into his coat.

  Backing away, heart thundering in her ears, she glanced down as he withdrew a damp white cloth from his breast pocket.

  Suddenly, Beatrice flung open the carriage door. “Get her, you fool. Get her now!"

  "Shut up!” he growled. Then turning a brilliant white smile upon Elizabeth, he nearly crooned, “Come to me, my pretty. This will not hurt a bit."

  "What? What do you want? Why have you done this?” Continually moving, she backed farther and farther away until there was no place else to go. Her back was against a tree. She felt it rough and hard through her clothes. Grasping behind her, touching the bark, she tried to edge past, but before she could run, Park grabbed her arms in a steely hold.

  Leaning close, he breathed against her lips. “Why, you ask? Why for money, darling. Or didn't Christian tell you about the will? The money, the title are mine, I tell you! Mine! If only the inheritance included you, sweet Elizabeth. What sweet revenge it would be to bed his wife while he lies cold in the ground. But you would never have that, would you? Such a hellcat! Full of fire and spirit!"

  "Shut up, you cretin!” Beatrice screeched. “Would you take her in the dirty road while I watch? Never! Come on, you bastard. Do your job!"

  Park glanced back at Beatrice. “My job? Must you continually think of me as an employee? We both know that is not the case."

  "Do it!” she screamed, her face flushed with rage.

  "No,” Elizabeth whimpered. “Christian will kill you if you harm me."

  Park clucked his tongue at her. “My dear, you are quite mistaken. It is I who shall do the killing. It is I who shall do the possessing."

  With that he bent to press his lips to hers. The feel of his tongue encroaching into her mouth sent her temper soaring. Violently, she bit down hard causing him to jerk away. Blood dotted his bottom lip and when he smiled wickedly, she saw red on his teeth as well.

  "Vicious bitch,” he whispered just before he backhanded her. “You shall pay for that bit of whimsy."

  The instant her body hit the road, she thought of her babe and groaned at her lapse in provoking him. Christian's child, her child must be protected at all cost. These people were mad. Utterly mad!

  When she attempted to stand, Park grabbed her arm and hauled her upright. She began to speak, but was seconds too late. He took the white cloth he held and pressed it to her face. A sweet, slightly pungent scent assailed her nostrils just before the world turned black.

  * * * *

  The moon hung in the night sky, round and fat, the color of newly churned butter. Without moving her limbs, Elizabeth opened her eyes, staring upward through the remnants of a jagged roof that loomed like prehistoric teeth.

  Confusion caused her to give her head a toss, but she immediately stilled again, as pain knifed violently across her brain. Her mouth was dry, and her nose wrinkled at the foul chemical taste that coated her tongue.

  With the revelation, she came to the sudden awareness of what had happened. On her way home from Charlotte House she'd been accosted and taken by the worst sort of villains. Memory flooded in. Poor Thomas!

  She closed her eyes in an agony of grief. He had been with her family since she'd been a young girl. Was he now dead? Surely no one could survive such a wound.

  Even now, the sound of gunfire burned her ears. The memory of the acrid scent rose as she recalled with horror the bloom
of red unfurling across his chest.

  Her next thought was of her husband and unborn child. When Christian learned she'd been kidnapped, he would move heaven and earth to save her ... But at what price? His life? The thought was too awful to bear.

  Unwilling to alert her captors, she lay still in the muted darkness. A lone candle burned upon a rickety table. Sitting in one of three straight-backed, wooden chairs was Beatrice, whose head drooped against her chest as she lightly snored.

  Chancing small movement, Elizabeth tugged at her arms. They were tied together at the wrist and knotted to a rusty metal headboard. She lay upon a moldy tic mattress that smelled nauseatingly like a wet dog. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she looked down to see her feet similarly bound. As there wasn't a footboard on the rickety bed, they simply lay there, completely useless.

  The Spartan room had once been an office, she supposed. An old desk occupied a dark corner of the room and yellowed papers littered the bare wood floor. In the distance, a blaring horn sounded, and the scent of the docks slammed through a broken window. Ragged shards of glass gleamed in silver tones against the backdrop of a violet-black night. Would they, in the end, toss her through an opening in the deadly, jagged glass into the Thames? Not if Christian got to her first!

  The building was old, probably abandoned long ago, leaving it to vermin. Decay loomed in the air, along with the rustling of night creatures scavenging for whatever might be found. The building creaked and moaned as if haunted. An occasional gust of wind whined through the open window and dilapidated roof above.

  "Awake, I see.” Beatrice said, the glow of the candle casting her face into a myriad of shadows. “How do you like your temporary home? Quite a change from what the Duchess is accustomed to, is it not?"

  Elizabeth turned toward the sound, but it made her head ache, so she simply stared through the open roof and cleared her throat. “What are you going to do with me?"

  Beatrice walked to the side of the bed. “Why kill you, of course. Along with your husband. You see, Park should inherit what Christian claims by right of birth. If he had not married you, my dear, the fortune and title would be Park's. Unfortunately, things fell apart. I had hoped Edward might manage to kill you, but the stupid man failed at it, just as he failed at everything. I am supremely glad that I killed him."

  Elizabeth gasped and stared at the woman. “You? But why? I wasn't aware you even knew him!"

  "I didn't know him personally, but the entire ton knew of your hatred of him. It became necessary to seduce him. Gullible man! But aren't they all, Elizabeth, when confronted with the notion of available sex. Edward was easily manipulated and even easier to kill once he'd climaxed beneath me.” Beatrice giggled. “He likes rough play, our Edward. Loves to inflict pain. Most likely, your sister suffered under his lash on a number of occasions. I remember the silly, romantical twit. I doubt she enjoyed his attentions overmuch. But you should have seen him when I plunged the knife into his chest. The way he jerked and gasped was an utter delight. It was fun, really. The most excitement I have had in a long, long time. I had to woo him, you see. Befriend him. Make him trust me."

  "But why?” From the maniacal gleam in Beatrice's eyes, Elizabeth knew there was no mercy within the woman. She seemed quite mad!

  "Why to kill him, of course. He had a purpose as long as he meant to murder you, but since he failed, Edward could better serve our needs if he were dead. Park and I devised a plan to blame you for his murder. Alas, you were not arrested and tossed into Newgate Prison to await hanging."

  "You are despicable."

  Beatrice smiled. “Naturally. But you see, my dear, I am desperate for money. Originally, I'd hoped for a match between you and my son. All that lovely fortune at my disposal positively made my toes curl, but my wretch of a son hardly tried to court you. I am glad he is gone, damn him to hell! What a disappointment he is to me."

  "All that plotting. All the death. And for what, Beatrice? Money? Are there no tender emotions in your heart?"

  "None whatsoever. Actually, I quite enjoyed dispatching Edward. You should thank me."

  "'Tis true that I hated him. He was the monster who murdered my sister. But your machinations are appalling. I had reason to kill him, but you, Madame, did not!"

  "It hardly matters now. Soon you will be dead, too, along with your doting husband. Can't have a new heir coming along in the near future either. A babe between you and Christian would be disastrous to my plan."

  An icy chill raced up Elizabeth's spine. So much for begging for the life of her unborn child! If Bea learned she was pregnant, all would be truly lost.

  Closing her eyes, Elizabeth sent a prayer to keep Christian safe. Emotions spiraling, a mighty fist clutching her heart, she begged the Almighty for help in this time of peril. As Beatrice went back to her chair, Elizabeth felt hot tears trail from her eyes to dampen her hair.

  She had to stop this insanity now! Steeling her mind to a calm belied by the trembling in her limbs, she studied the dimly lit room. There must be some means of escape! There was no time to cry or to grieve. She only had to hope that Christian made it in time or, by herself, find a way to save herself and her unborn child.

  Twenty-four

  Christian grinned into his glass of port as the series of jests and congratulations rang through the gaming room at White's. The wild rogue, who had captured the admiration of every young buck of the ton, was no longer a sought-after bachelor, but married and soon to be a father.

  Mr. Potts raised a crystal goblet filled to the brim with deep, red claret. “Lift your glasses gentlemen! To Haverton's heir! May he be healthy and as smooth with the ladies as his father!"

  "Here, here!"

  "To Haverton!"

  "Congratulations!"

  Salutations permeated the air amid hearty handshakes and back-slapping, but Christian didn't mind in the least. It wasn't, after all, every day that a man announced impending fatherhood. The very idea of Elizabeth's belly growing with his son sent his senses reeling. A strange tightness invaded his chest as he thought of the years ahead. Years of learning to be a family with the woman he loved by his side to share it all.

  Tonight he did not gamble, but instead watched the Faro players as he drank and smoked fat cigars. Lounging back, legs crossed at the ankle, he perused his companions through a silver cloud of pungent smoke.

  Bentley clapped him on the shoulder and settled into the chair next to him. “'Tis wonderful news, Christian,” he said jovially, his blonde hair gilded by the chandelier lights above. “It ain't every day a man finds himself a prospective father. How is your wife fairing?"

  "Amazingly well,” he answered with a slow grin. “Elizabeth will manage splendidly through the ordeal to come. She is the strongest woman I know."

  Bentley nodded his head. “So it is true then."

  Christian lifted a black brow.

  "You have indeed made a love match. I wasn't so certain, but now I know the truth of the matter."

  He lifted his glass and drank. “I have always thought you an intuitive fellow, Bentley. I give you my permission to inform the world of the truth, if you wish."

  "Do you join her later?"

  "Not at any society affair, I assure you. We have avoided the public of late, considering the newness of our marriage."

  Bentley threw back his head and laughed. “I do not doubt it considering the great beauty of your wife. Much better to keep the lady away from encroachers, I would think."

  Christian scowled slightly. “No one would dare."

  "No offense meant, Your Grace. Suffice it to say, if I were in your position, I would be just as protective."

  "Spoken like the gentleman you are, Bentley. Elizabeth has much to deal with besides society forays, considering her condition. At present, she is refurbishing the nursery and fussing over details."

  "I do believe I am envious of you,” Bentley said with a smile. “I hope someday to be as fortunate as you.” Talk turned to other matters until som
ething appeared to capture Bentley's attention. “I say, Christian, is that not your man, Rawlins?"

  He turned with a greeting, but it died on his lips at the furious expression on Rawlins’ face. “What is it? Is something wrong?"

  Rawlins composed himself and spoke a short greeting to Bentley before turning back to his employer. “Your Grace, I must speak with you on an urgent matter."

  Making his apologies, Christian swiftly followed Rawlins through the throng of gentlemen. Leaving the smoke-filled rooms and stepping into the freshness of the autumn night, Christian turned at White's front door. “What's happened?"

  Without preambles, Rawlins cleared his throat. “Your lady has been taken, sir. Kidnapped."

  Reaching into his pocket, he produced a gold pocket watch and a letter. Withholding the paper, he gave the watch to Christian.

  Popping the cover, he read the inscription, immediately noting Charlotte's name inscribed there. Fear pounded through his brain. His skin prickled with foreboding.

  "A lad presented this, along with the letter, at the kitchen door,” Rawlins explained. “He said only to give this to you. He said it was found in the lady's room; it once belonged to a dead man."

  Pieces of the puzzle began to horridly fall into place. Whoever took Elizabeth guessed that she'd managed to steal the watch from Edward while she rode the countryside as a highwayman. Snapping the lid closed, Christian pocketed the valuable watch. “Go on, man. Hurry."

  Rawlins handed over the letter. Christian broke the seal on the sheet of foolscap and quickly unfolded it.

  "Her Grace, as you know, traveled to Charlotte House early this afternoon,” Rawlins supplied. “She was gone a very long time, but Thomas was with her, so we didn't become concerned until nightfall."

  "Continue.” Christian spoke softly, terror rising to claw at his throat.

  "Several men and I went out to see what was keeping Her Grace. We found the curricle and Thomas's body on the road."