Redeeming the Marquess

by Beers, Laura

  She walked over to the buffet but realized that she wasn’t hungry. She sat at the table and was pleased when a footman placed two cups of chocolate in front of her. She murmured her thanks before picking one up.

  She knew she had no choice but to meet with Lord Worthington at noon. But what did he wish to speak to her about?

  Emma stepped into the room, wearing a blue gown. “Good morning, Ellie,” she greeted.

  “Good morning,” Ellie muttered as she brought her cup up to her lips.

  After Emma helped herself to food from the buffet table, she walked over and sat next to her. “Whatever is the matter?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  Emma gave her a knowing look. “You look as though something is weighing heavily on your mind.”

  “It is nothing, I can assure you.”

  “I am not inclined to believe you, but you do have a right to your privacy.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie said, placing her cup on its saucer. “Do you know where your brother went this morning?”

  Emma shrugged. “He left at first light,” she revealed. “At least, that is what the groom told me when I went on my ride.”

  “Oh,” Ellie murmured. “He wrote me a note, informing me that he had a surprise for me.”

  Emma put her napkin in her lap. “What do you think it could be?”

  “I have no idea,” Ellie replied frankly.

  “Is that what is troubling you?” Emma asked, eyeing her closely.

  Ellie glanced over her shoulder before she lowered her voice. “No, but what I am about to tell you must remain in the strictest confidence.”

  “I understand.”

  Reaching into the pocket of her gown, she retrieved the letter from Lord Worthington and extended it towards Emma.

  As Emma read the note, her eyes grew wide. “You must not meet with him!” she exclaimed.

  “But I must,” Ellie argued. “I’m afraid I have no choice in the matter.”

  Emma handed the note back to her. “What if Lord Worthington absconds with you and takes you to Gretna Green?”

  “I don’t believe that will happen,” she replied. “I think he just wants to talk to me.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Emma said, her voice hesitant.

  Slipping the note back into her pocket, Ellie pressed, “I have to go. I can’t risk that he will make good on his threat and kill my mother.”

  “Which is why we must report this to the constable, and quickly.”

  Ellie shook her head. “The note says to inform no one,” she said. “I shouldn’t have even told you.”

  “I am glad that you did.” Emma sat back in her chair. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of speaking to him, am I?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Emma pressed her lips together for a moment. “You must at least take my muff pistol in your reticule.”

  “I have no argument against that.”

  “I still contend this is a terrible idea,” Emma stated. “Lord Worthington is not an honorable man, and I can think of many ways this could go horribly wrong.”

  “I have to do something,” Ellie asserted. “I could never live with myself if something happened to my mother, knowing I could have prevented it.”

  Emma let out a heavy sigh. “I understand, but I will be watching you from a window.”

  “I can live with that,” Ellie replied as she reached for the second cup of chocolate. “And I would expect no less from you.”

  “My brother will be furious when he hears that you met with Lord Worthington,” Emma said, picking up her fork.

  “I am well aware.”

  Emma gave her a curious look. “I saw you in the gardens with Roswell yesterday.”

  “You did?”

  “I’m afraid my mother and I were shamelessly watching you both from her bedchamber window.”

  “I should have assumed as much.”

  “You two appeared to be quite cozy with one another,” Emma commented.

  Ellie gave a half shrug. “I suppose we are.”

  “I am pleased to hear that,” Emma said. “It has been nice seeing my brother transform back into his old self, and it is all because of you.”

  “I do not dare take the credit for that.”

  “It is most definitely because of you,” Emma responded with a side glance, “and I do hope you will become my sister-in-law.”

  “I cannot presume to know Roswell’s feelings.”

  Emma smiled. “Interesting,” she remarked. “I see that you are calling him by his given name now.”

  “He gave me leave to do so,” Ellie defended.

  “I am happy to hear things are progressing quite nicely between you two.”

  Ellie took a sip of her chocolate. “Need I remind you that our engagement is not real?”

  “For now,” Emma replied with a smug look.

  “Do you have any questions about how to use this?” Emma asked as she extended the muff pistol towards her.

  Ellie accepted the weapon. “My father taught me how to shoot when I was a young girl.” She held the gun in her hand so she could adjust to the weight of it. “This is much lighter than an overcoat pistol.”

  “Yes,” Emma replied, “it’s designed to fit perfectly in your reticule undetected.”

  “I don’t believe this to be necessary. Lord Worthington only wishes to talk to me. Furthermore, we will be on the street as we speak, in full view of the townhouse.”

  Emma shook her head. “I don’t believe that to be the case, and I think you are being incredibly naïve.”

  Ellie sighed. “I have no choice. I can’t let anything bad happen to my mother.”

  “So you would sacrifice yourself to save her?”

  “It would appear so.”

  “What would your mother tell you if she were standing right here?” Emma asked with a knowing look.

  Ellie pursed her lips before answering, “She would tell me to stay as far away from Lord Worthington as I can.”

  “That is good advice.”

  “But she is not here, and I only mean to talk to him.”

  Emma gave her a disapproving look, then sighed. “It might be best if we came up with some type of code in case you are in distress.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “If you are in distress for any reason, you will adjust the sleeves of your gown, and I will alert the footmen to assist you.”

  Ellie adjusted the sleeve of her gown and asked, “Is this acceptable?”

  Emma nodded. “And if you believe he is going to abscond with you to Gretna Green, I want you to reach up and adjust one of the pins in your hair.”

  “That code won’t be necessary.”

  “We shall see,” Emma murmured unconvincingly.

  The long clock chimed, alerting them that the hour had come.

  “It’s time,” Ellie stated, taking a deep breath. “I’d best not be late.”

  Emma stepped closer and embraced her. “Be careful, Ellie,” she said. “I still believe this is a foolhardy thing to do.”

  “You saw the note,” Ellie insisted. “I have no choice.”

  Emma took a step back, looking uncertain. “I’ll be watching you from an upstairs window.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her trepidation increasing with each step, Ellie exited the drawing room and walked over to the main door. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure no one was privy to what she was about to do.

  She opened the door and closed it softly behind her. As she descended the three steps in front of the townhouse, she saw Lord Worthington’s emblazoned coach parked on the street.

  A footman jumped off his perch when he saw her and opened the door. She hesitantly walked towards the coach and peered in.

  “Get in,” Lord Worthington ordered.

  “Your note implied that you only wished to speak to me,” Ellie said, tilting her chin stubbornly. “I have no intention of getting into that coach.”r />
  Lord Worthington looked bored by her refusal. “If you don’t, then I will have no qualms about killing your mother.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Leaning forward in his seat, he opened his jacket to reveal a pistol tucked into the waistband of his trousers. “There is nothing to negotiate,” he growled. “Get into the coach.”

  “Not until you tell me where we are going.”

  “To Gretna Green, of course,” Lord Worthington said with a flick of his wrist.

  As Ellie reached up to touch the pin in her hair to alert Emma, she was grabbed from behind and tossed into the coach. She landed in a heap in front of Lord Worthington just as the coach jerked forward.

  “We didn’t have all day for you to come to your decision,” he mocked, leaning back in his seat. “We need to depart if we wish to marry soon.”

  “I won’t marry you!” she exclaimed.

  “I think you will, assuming you want your mother to live,” Lord Worthington remarked casually.

  Ellie moved to sit on the bench across from Lord Worthington. “Lord Bideford will come after me,” she said. “He won’t let this injustice go unanswered.”

  “I am hoping he does, my dear,” Lord Worthington responded with a cruel smile. “I would like nothing more than to shoot him and be done with him.”

  “I believe you are underestimating Lord Bideford.”

  “Perhaps it is you who is overestimating him.” Lord Worthington chuckled cruelly. “The moment you stepped into this coach with me, you were ruined,” he said. “No man will want you now.”

  “But you do?”

  “But of course,” he replied. “I want your dowry. I always have.”

  “Is that why you wish to marry me?”

  He nodded. “Your father was entirely too generous with your mother’s jointure and your dowry. He left me little choice in the matter. I refuse to lose twenty thousand pounds.”

  “It was never yours to lose.”

  “I disagree,” he argued. “Besides, you are rather fortunate to look at. I could have done much worse for myself.”

  “Thank you for those kind words,” she mocked.

  “It will be a challenge to tame your sharp tongue, but I have no doubt that it can be done.” The way he said this made her skin crawl.

  “I will change for no man,” she declared.

  He smirked. “You will have no choice.”

  “How so?”

  “Once we are wed, you belong to me, and I shall deal with you however I see fit.”

  Ellie glanced over at the closed drapes. “I refuse to marry you.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “How so?”

  His eyes held amusement as he revealed, “I know an anvil priest who is willing to look the other way when it comes to the bride’s… willingness, if you will.”

  “Then I’ll run away.”

  “There is nowhere you can hide that I won’t find you.” He chuckled. “After all, it only took me a few days to find you after I discovered you were missing. I was most fortunate that your antics made it into the Society page.”

  Ellie fingered the fringe on the top of her reticule. “What if I just gave you the twenty thousand pounds?” she asked hopefully.

  “That wouldn’t be sufficient,” he said. “I want your mother’s jointure, as well.”

  “But it isn’t yours to have.”

  “If you come and reside with me, I have no doubt that your mother will follow suit.”

  “Where is my mother?” Ellie demanded.

  “Last time I checked, she was at your cottage, blissfully unaware that her life is in peril,” Lord Worthington replied.

  “You are a horrible man.”

  With an unconcerned shrug, Lord Worthington said, “Your opinion means little to me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You are just a lowly young woman who has managed to waste my time, over and over again,” he replied. “I tried to be patient with you—”

  Ellie spoke over him. “You tried to be patient with me?”

  “Yes. I knew you were grieving your father, so I tried to be patient by letting you come to the decision on your own that we were meant for one another.”

  “We aren’t meant for one another,” she argued. “You are only marrying me for my dowry.”

  Lord Worthington reached forward and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You are precisely right,” he stated, “which is why you should not be antagonizing me right now.”

  He dropped his hand and continued. “You will learn your place, or I will dispose of you at my earliest convenience.”

  “You intend to kill me?” she asked fearfully.

  “Only once your usefulness ends,” he responded.

  Ellie remained silent as she tried to formulate a plan. How was she to get out of this mess? She knew that Lord Bideford would come for her, but would he arrive in time? She did have a muff pistol, thanks to Emma’s foresight, but she only had one shot. One thing was certain, she needed to make sure that shot counted.

  “You are quiet, I see,” Lord Worthington said. “That is an admirable quality for a wife to have.”

  Ellie narrowed her eyes at his ridiculous remark. “I’m not going to just sit back and marry you.”

  “We shall see,” Lord Worthington remarked as he leaned his head back against the bench. “You may as well rest your eyes. We have a long journey before we arrive at Gretna Green.”

  Glancing down at the door handle, Ellie thought about opening the door and jumping out.

  Lord Worthington’s amused voice reached her ears. “If you tried to jump out of a moving coach, you would most likely die in the street, being trampled by a team of horses or the wheels of a coach,” he said. “But I won’t stop you, especially since your dowry would resort back to my pockets.”

  Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the man. She was tempted to retrieve Emma’s muff pistol, but even if she managed to incapacitate Lord Worthington, she’d still have his men to deal with. She hoped she had a chance to shoot him, but she needed to bide her time and wait for the right opportunity.

  19

  Roswell reined in his horse and handed it off to a groom waiting outside of his townhouse. He waited until Lady Worthington exited the coach before he came to stand next to her.

  “I have no doubt that you are eager to see your daughter,” he said.

  She smiled over at him. “I am.”

  He offered his arm to her. “May I escort you inside, then?”

  “Thank you,” Lady Worthington replied as she accepted his arm. “It was incredibly thoughtful of you to come and collect me yourself.”

  “It was the least I could do, especially since I knew how worried Ellie was about you.”

  “I told her not to worry about me.”

  “I have learned that Ellie does exactly the opposite of what you tell her to do,” he joked. “She can be quite stubborn.”

  Lady Worthington laughed. “I’m afraid she inherited that from her father.”

  Roswell opened the door and stepped into a frenzy of activity. He stopped in the entry hall and watched as his servants raced around him, giving him little heed.

  Thorne saw him from across the room, and a look of immense relief came to his face. “You are finally home, my lord,” he sighed as he closed the distance in a few strides.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, placing his hands up.

  “Miss Bentley was abducted by Lord Worthington!”

  Roswell heard Lady Worthington gasp as he growled, “When did this happen?”

  “About thirty minutes ago,” Thorne informed him.

  “How?”

  His mother’s voice came from the drawing room. “Perhaps you should let Emma explain,” she said. “She witnessed the whole thing.”

  “I will.” He turned his attention back towards the butler. “Has the constable been notified?”

  “Yes, but he
has yet to arrive.”

  Roswell was disappointed by the constable’s slow response, but it wasn’t unheard of. Constables were notoriously overloaded with work and didn’t have the resources to investigate every case that was given to them.

  “I want someone to go down to the Bow Street Magistrate and hire every available Bow Street Runner,” Roswell ordered. “Bring them back here and have all of our horses ready for them.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Thorne replied.

  “Do not fail me in this,” Roswell declared.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Thorne tipped his head and hurried off.

  “Is Emma in the drawing room?” Roswell asked, turning his attention back towards his mother.

  “She is,” his mother replied.

  Roswell hurried into the drawing room, where Emma was sitting on the settee, her hands clasped in her lap. He sat next to her. “Can you tell me what happened, Emma?”

  Emma gave him a tearful smile. “I told Ellie not to do it, but she was adamant about meeting with Lord Worthington.”

  “Did she say why she needed to meet with him?”

  “Yes, because he threatened to kill her mother.”

  Roswell met her gaze. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” he suggested.

  Emma took a deep breath. “During breakfast, Ellie told me that Lord Worthington had threatened to kill her mother, and even showed me the note that he had sent over.”

  “She had a note? Did she say how she got this note?”

  Emma gave him a baffled look. “No, but I suppose her lady’s maid gave it to her earlier this morning.”

  Roswell rose and walked over to the door, catching the attention of a footman walking by. “I want to see Miss Bentley’s lady’s maid at once,” he ordered.

  The footman tipped his head. “Yes, my lord.”

  Returning to his seat, Roswell said, “Please continue, Emma.”

  Emma pressed her lips together before saying, “I tried to stop Ellie, but she had wrongly assumed that Lord Worthington just wanted to speak to her.”

  “What happened after that?” he questioned.

  “Lord Worthington was in a coach, and I watched from one of the upstairs windows as Ellie approached it,” Emma explained. “She spoke to him for only a moment before a footman grabbed her from behind and tossed her into the coach.”