Hardy finally left after an hour of suggestive taunts meant only to scare her. Hannah sat in a small chair near the fireplace.
“Hannah, why are you doing this?”
Hannah turned her gaze from the fireplace to Victoria. “You of all people should understand.”
“But I don’t.”
“When Farleigh married me, he lost his reputation. The ton believed he was a fool for marrying his mistress, especially since I was a former prostitute. I love my husband and want only the best for him. When Maldon reigns, I will be the leader of the haute ton because of my friendship with him. People will look to me for social acceptance.”
“And if your plan fails?” she asked softly, not wanting to get Hannah upset, only help her see the reality of the situation.
“But it will not fail. You did not stop us.”
“Then why do you need the note?”
“We don’t need the note, you fool. Hardy read it. Now we just need to tie up all the loose ends.”
“And that would be me?”
“Yes—and whoever else read that note.”
Victoria was still confused on one thing. “What does Hardy get out of this?”
Hannah cackled. “A title. Maybe even a duchy. What man wouldn’t love that?”
Victoria could think of no way to stop them now. She had to keep Somerton’s name out of this but wondered how she could if they threatened her with rape. If they discovered Somerton’s name, they would find the note and kill him.
She could not let that happen.
Anthony raced down the stairs of the brothel, dodging a man attempting to take one of the ladies up the steps. He had to get outside and save her. As he ran out the door, he noticed the plain black carriage turn the corner to George Street. He climbed up on his phaeton and urged the horse on.
Most of the delivery carts were gone by now so his only impediments were the pedestrians and carriages headed out for a day of shopping. When he turned the corner to George Street, he scanned the road for the carriage. Most of the coaches looked similar.
Desperate for some sign of which way they had gone, he continued down George Street and then continued to Hanover Square. He stopped at Farleigh’s home in the square only to find the footman had not seen Lady Farleigh since they left the house in November for their estate.
They must have gone to Hardy’s house. Dammit. He had to find her before it was too late. The ride to Hardy’s modest house seemed interminable. Carts and wagons slowed him down and a sense of dread permeated the air around him.
A footman opened the door to Hardy’s house. “Good afternoon.”
“Get out of my way, man,” Anthony said hoarsely. “Where is your master?”
“Mr. Hardy left the house a week ago and has not returned.”
If Hannah and Hardy had not returned to their homes, where the hell were they staying? Not trusting the young man, Anthony searched the lower level and raced up the steps. Hearing the heavy feet of two footmen following him, Anthony headed to the bedrooms. Every room he searched came up empty.
The footmen caught him as he left Hardy’s bedroom. After dragging him down the stairs, they thrust him out the door and slammed it behind him. Anthony tumbled down the three brick steps.
“What do you think you are doing?”
Anthony stumbled to his feet, ignoring the sting of the cuts on his hands and knees. He looked up to see Brentwood staring down at him.
“Hardy and Lady Farleigh took Victoria,” he mumbled and then headed for his phaeton. He had no idea where to look next but he could not give up.
“Who the bloody hell is Victoria? And didn’t Ainsworth tell you that you were done with this case?”
“Victoria is Mrs. Smith. The lady with me at Farleigh’s party.”
“Oh hell,” Brentwood said. “How is Lord Farleigh connected to this mess?”
Anthony stopped and looked around. “I have no idea. He is too far removed from the line of succession. Why would he care who became king?”
“Maybe he is not involved?” Brentwood offered. “Lady Farleigh may be doing this for her own benefit.”
Anthony pounded his fist on the edge of the phaeton startling the horse. “Lady Farleigh has never been accepted by the ton.”
“Oh hell,” Brentwood said again. “But if she is in close with the next king then her station would greatly improve. The ton would have to accept her.”
“Exactly.” Anthony walked to his horse to calm her down. “So who else is involved? There is someone much higher in rank who is in control.”
“I don’t know,” Brentwood admitted with a shrug. “What are we missing?”
“I don’t know but I have to find Victoria before they hurt her.”
“Let me help you, Somerton. Ainsworth said you were the best, and I could learn from you.”
Anthony stared at the younger man and nodded. “Very well, then. We need to go to Miss Reynard’s home.”
“The matchmaker?”
“Yes.”
“Ma’am, you have two visitors,” Hendricks announced.
Sophie looked up from her book and frowned. She had no clients scheduled until tomorrow and her friends had all claimed to be busy today. But a sense of trepidation had been with her all day.
“Who is it?”
“Lord Somerton and Lord Brentwood, ma’am.”
Why would Somerton have brought Brentwood here? The hair on the back of her neck prickled. “Send them in and bring us tea, please.”
“Yes, miss.”
Within a moment, she heard the hard booted footfall of her half brother followed by a lighter step. As soon as Somerton entered the room, she knew Victoria was in trouble.
“Oh Lord,” Sophie said, seeing the pain in his eyes. “What happened?”
Brentwood stared at them as Somerton explained what he’d seen this morning. Sophie looked at her brother not wanting to tell him of the dread she’d felt since this morning.
“Do you have anything of hers on you?” she asked.
“Why?”
“Because while you two are emotionally connected, I still need something from her to help her. Just your emotions are not enough right now.”
He pulled out a hairpin from his waistcoat and gave it to her.
“Thank you.” She held the pin in her hand and clasped his hand with hers. Closing her eyes, she waited for the slight dizziness that always accompanied the sight.
“She is in a very large home. Elegant.”
“Where, Sophie?” Somerton pressed. “I need to know where.”
“Shh.” Sophie concentrated on the image in her mind. “The house is in Mayfair. The word duke keeps coming to me but I don’t know why.”
The image slowly faded. “I’m sorry, Somerton. That’s all I could see.”
“How the bloody hell does she do that?” Brentwood muttered.
“Miss Reynard, this is Lord Brentwood. He does some occasional work for Mr. Ainsworth,” Somerton said.
“So I expect I will see you from time to time when you need assistance?”
Brentwood’s mouth gaped. “You mean this is where you get the information no one else is able to find?” he said to Somerton.
“Only sometimes.” He turned to Sophie. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t see more, Somerton.”
“I know,” he said in a resigned voice. “Is she all right?”
“I cannot tell. Do you know who the duke is?”
Somerton sank into a seat and raked his fingers through his short hair. “No. It might be any duke. Or it might mean a street with the word duke in it.”
“Wait,” Sophie said, slowly walking around the room. “You said Lady Farleigh is involved. I think I might know who the duke is.”
Somerton turned his head toward her. “How?”
“Lady Farleigh used to visit me before she became the countess. She was involved with another man who only came to see her at the brothel. She desperately wanted him
to offer her a position as mistress but he never did. Still, they parted on friendly terms when Farleigh made her an offer.”
“Who is it, Sophie?”
“The Duke of Maldon,” she whispered. “I think that is where she is. Oh God, you have to find her. The stories of what he did to Lady Farleigh were dreadful.”
“If he treated her so horribly, why would she have wanted him as a protector?” Brentwood asked.
“In money and position, a duke trumps an earl,” Somerton answered. “We have to get out of here.”
“Anthony, wait,” Sophie cried out as he reached for the door. She didn’t even care that she’d called him by his Christian name in front of Brentwood. “His Grace is a dangerous man. He looks innocuous but he is not.”
“Thank you, Sophie.”
“Bring her home safely.”
“I will do my best.”
“And Somerton,” she paused as her emotions took control, “watch out for your own safety. I should hate to see something dreadful happen to you.”
“I understand, Sophie.”
Sophie watched the two men leave but the sense of dread would not leave with them. She had a feeling something terrible was going to happen but had no way to stop it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
After three hours of standing, tied to a bedpost, Victoria felt as if her knees would give out. The late afternoon sun was slowly fading into the horizon and long shadows filled the chilly room. Once Hardy and Hannah realized Victoria wasn’t about to tell them where the missive was, they left the room. While she preferred being alone to their company, she could not stop trembling.
Not knowing what was going to happen terrified her completely. And worse, no one would ever find her here. No one would suspect the duke was associated with this plot. Even if someone notified Somerton of her kidnapping, she wasn’t certain he would look for her. After his behavior toward her today, she was not sure she wanted him to.
The fact that he didn’t believe her hurt worse than any pain inflicted upon her. She was a fool for falling in love with him. And yet, the time with him had been the best of her life. What apparently would be a short life.
The door opened and the Duke of Maldon traipsed into the room followed by Hannah and Hardy. Maldon stood straight and walked briskly. While he had a head of white hair, he hardly appeared to be a feeble old man. He came closer until his foul breath wafted in front of her nose.
She turned her head away from the odor. Maldon grabbed her chin and forced it back, so she had no choice but to look at him.
“Now, how much pain am I going to have to inflict upon you before you give me the name of the man who has the missive?”
“You plan to rape me anyway so why should I tell you who I worked for?”
His smile turned evil. “Again, it depends on how much pain you enjoy, Miss Seaton.” He held out his hand and Hannah placed a whip in it.
Victoria shivered in fear. She had heard stories from the prostitutes about men who wanted to whip them for pleasure. One or two of the women didn’t mind it but most hated it because of the pain. But she didn’t believe Maldon wanted pleasure out of this, only pain. Her pain.
“So again, Miss Seaton, who is your contact?”
Trying to delay the pain, she attempted to change the subject. “How did you find out who I was?”
Maldon laughed. “Lady Farleigh followed you back to London. Did you and Somerton think you were being sneaky?”
“No, but why didn’t you follow Ancroft?”
“We had another follow him.” He put his lips on her neck and bit down until she screamed. “You will be such an easy one to get information from.”
He went behind her and untied her hands. Before she could move, Hardy was there holding her.
“Turn the bitch around,” Maldon said. He retied her wrists to the post that she now faced.
“Please don’t hurt me.” She hated herself for begging with these bastards.
“Tell me, was it Somerton or Ancroft?”
When she didn’t answer, the cold steel of a knife sliced through the back of her dress. Maldon tore the back off the dress, then cut her stays and shift. With the cool air hitting her back, she knew what would happen next. Still, when the end of the whip hit her, she cried out in agony.
Nothing had ever hurt that badly.
“Do you like that,” Maldon said, grabbing her breasts. “My these are small. I much prefer large-breasted women like Lady Farleigh. But Mr. Hardy here, well he spent quite a lot of time on ships so you will remind him of all the boys he’s had. He does like to fuck in the arse, but you were Somerton’s whore so I would guess he tried that with you, too.”
He squeezed her breasts until she cried out again. “Last chance to stop the pain. Who?” He moved back to ready the whip again.
“Oh, God no,” she screamed as the lash struck her again.
It didn’t matter how much this hurt. She would not give Somerton’s name to them. She couldn’t be responsible for his death.
“Who?” Maldon yelled then let the whip hit her back again.
Victoria jerked back from the pain. She clutched the bedpost as tears streamed down her face.
“Why were you there?” Maldon asked, holding the whip in the air again.
This she could answer. “I was only there to pretend to be Somerton’s mistress. It was the only way he could get into the party because Lord Farleigh is jealous of him.”
She slid a glance back to Hannah whose cheeks turned red.
“Were you there to entice Hardy?” he asked, still waving the whip in the air.
“No. Yes. I don’t know,” she cried. “Somerton and Ancroft wanted me to be able to get close to Hardy if they needed me to pick his pocket.”
“Damn easy job when everyone knows he likes thin, young blondes, man or woman.”
She went cold. Everyone knew he liked thin young blondes. No wonder Somerton said she was perfect for this job. He used her as bait. “That bastard!”
“Oh, you didn’t know that, did you?” he said with a wicked laugh.
White-hot pain licked her back again. She clung to the post and blinked her eyes trying not to faint from the torture. “Please,” she begged. “Please stop.”
“Then tell me the name,” Maldon shouted.
Maldon stepped behind her and rubbed his erection against her. “I think she is ready for me, Hannah.”
“No,” Victoria cried out. “Please don’t do this to me.”
He walked toward Lady Farleigh. “Get me ready, Hannah.”
Hannah stripped off his jacket and waistcoat. She smiled over at Victoria and said, “Wait until you see the size of this man’s cock. You shall be impressed.”
Hardy moved closer to her. “And when he’s done, I’ll have my fun.”
Hardy sliced the remains of her tattered clothing off until she was naked in front of everyone. Shame forced tears down her cheeks.
“Make her look at this, Hardy,” Hannah said.
Hardy forced her head toward them. Hannah was pulling down the old duke’s pantaloons until his cock sprang forth. She stroked the long length of him, until Maldon closed his eyes.
“Maybe he’ll stick that large pole up your arse and get you ready for me,” Hardy said with a gleam in his eyes.
“Untie her, Hardy. I’m almost ready for her.”
Hardy untied her wrists but held them tightly in his large grip. She heard Maldon walking back toward her.
“Last chance to save yourself, Miss Seaton.” He cracked the whip across her back again then held it high. “Who has the note?”
“I don’t know,” she yelled. “I do not know.”
The whip struck her down once more. Her back felt as if it were on fire. There was no saving her now.
The sound of footsteps racing down the hall sounded and before anyone could react, the door hurled open. Victoria almost fainted at the sight of Somerton rushing through the door with a pistol in each hand.
&nbs
p; Anthony took in the room and pain exploded in his head at the sight of Victoria, naked and exposed to everyone in the room. God only knew what they might have already done to her.
Hardy released Victoria who fell face down on the bed. He reached for his pistol.
“You bastards!” Anthony shouted. Seeing a clear shot of Hardy, Anthony fired his pistol. Hardy fell to the floor screaming.
Victoria yanked the coverlet off the bed to hide her nakedness. Anthony turned his attention on the old naked duke who now had a pistol aimed at Anthony.
“So who will die first, Somerton?” Maldon taunted.
“You will pay for what you have done to Miss Seaton.” Anthony slid a glance to Victoria who seemed to be fumbling with the coverlet.
“If you kill me you shall hang for murdering a duke. My servants will protect me.”
“And you shall hang for treason, Your Grace.” Anthony was certain they had no idea that both Ainsworth and Brentwood were following behind him.
“No one else knows I am involved in this. Those Hanoverian kings should never have been allowed to rule this country. And I intend to make sure they are all eliminated and a new ruling house is formed.”
Anthony’s finger trembled slightly on the trigger of the pistol. He wanted to kill the man right now but had promised Ainsworth justice would prevail.
“But I do think your whore should watch you die as I’m fucking her.”
“No,” Victoria screamed as Maldon’s pistol fired. She held the small pistol that Anthony had given her and fired at Maldon.
Lady Farleigh shrieked as Maldon sank to the floor. She glared up at Victoria and pulled another pistol from her pocket. Anthony, felled to the floor from Maldon’s shot, scrambled to reach Victoria. Smoke filled the room as Lady Farleigh aimed at Victoria and fired.
Victoria screamed and fell to the bed. Anthony raced for the bed as Ainsworth and Brentwood ran into the room.
“Damn,” Brentwood mumbled. “It looks like a battle scene in here.”
Anthony pulled the coverlet off Victoria’s shoulder and gaped at the wound. The shot Maldon fired at him had only scraped his shoulder. But Lady Farleigh’s shot had been almost perfectly aimed. He felt the backside of Victoria’s shoulder praying for an exit wound.
Scandal of the Season Page 24
