“Shhh.” Ulric moved in closer and tucked her into his arms. On his neck, he could feel the softness droplets of her tears. “You’re okay now. You won’t have to steal again.”
“When I saw you that night, all I saw was my way to earn a few coins and get the hell out of Thornea. I planned on moving on, finding some place new.”
“You did what you had to do to survive. You had no resources. The one source you’d seen, betrayed your trust.”
“I don’t want to see them again, Bryce. Either of them. I...I don’t want to go back.”
Blood pounded in his ears and Ulric held her face in his hands, wiping streams of tears away with his thumbs. The sight of her crying and hurting broke his heart, shattered it. He would do anything to make her smile again, to assure her that she was safe where she was.
“Listen to me, Audelia. I won’t let anything happen to you. Lord Dextrem, his wife, the Madame; you won’t ever have to see them again. I’ll protect you from them. But I need you to trust me. I need you to know that I won’t hurt you, that I will keep you safe.”
Audelia bit down hard on her bottom lip, closing her eyes for just a moment, dampen lashes fanning out against smooth skin. “I trust you, Bryce. I trust you.”
“Thank God.” Ulric brushed lips against hers initially but the moment he had, a warm sensation slowly surged its way up his spine and through to his heart. He just needed more. Just a little...more. Deepening the kiss, he weaved his hand through the hair at the back of Audelia’s head and pulled her in. Such sweetness, such mind blowing sensations were bound to drive him into a state of surrender. A state of warm, refreshing...passionate bliss that he was not sure he would ever like to return from. God, he was bound to fall deeply and irreversibly in love with her. That’s if he hadn’t already.
Ulric’s palms tingled as they found the loose ties at her neckline and his thumb had just brushed across one hard nipple when she stiffened. Sighing, he brushed a tender kiss to her neck and swallowed. He wanted her but he had no intention of forcing her. Not ever.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered against her cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you do not wish it.”
He felt her brief nod and then looked down. Audelia’s eyes were like a mirror to his own soul and the door to his future, both at the same time.
“I...I...” She faltered as if uncertain and then met his gaze again. “I do have one wish at the moment.”
Ulric tipped her chin, his other hand bringing her fingers up to his lips. “Anything.”
“Can you...can you pray with me for a while?”
Although he’d been caught a bit off guard by her request, Ulric did not show it. It had been a long time since he’d prayed at all. But he was prepared to do it. To try. For her.
Twenty
“It seems we have new neighbors, Jemison,” Lady Dextrem said, her attention focused on the book she’d been reading since this morning. She’d placed a fine wager with her good friend, Lady Anabel, that she’d finish it before the first crack of dawn.
Her husband barely uttered a response as he adjusted his reading spectacles, gazing down at a sheet of parchment. “I see.”
Lady Dextrem continued. “I believe they are Mr and Mrs. Clemson. The gentleman is a retired soldier who has earned a rather vast amount of wealth through trade. I hear his wife is from a very respectable family as well. They should make good company.”
“Just the type you like, Camilla,” he returned, passing her a fleeting glance. “I suppose you’ll pay them a visit first thing in the morning?”
“Of course. Whyever would I not?” She inclined her chin stubbornly. “I hear they have children too. Two little girls.”
Lord Dextrem eyed his wife and sighed. “Whatever you are getting at, I do not wish to discuss it.”
“Well, we must at some point.”
“Camilla!” Lord Dextrem clenched his fists and released a heavy breath. “Please. For once, allow me some peace.”
Lady Dextrem’s lips flattened into a thin line and she rose, leaving the room. Not that her husband would try to stop her. He never did.
Reclining in his chair, Lord Dextrem ran an exasperated hand over his hair and sighed. He was bound to go crazy if he did not receive some form of notice soon. His journey to Thornea had proven to be fruitless and a waste of his time. Though he had been able to catch up with Lorena, a very very old friend, he had not found out anything that might have pointed him to the location of the girl. How far could she really had gotten? He knew it had been several months, but surely Audelia Rolfen hadn’t the support or courage to get too far.
He had only gone searching for the chit because his blasted wife had driven him to. That, and because he and Madame de Lucci had an agreement he had no intention of forgetting. Audelia Rolfen must be found at all costs or his wife’s pestering would drive him to an early death.
“Your lordship?”
Glancing up suddenly, he realized that one of his footmen had entered the room. “Yes?”
“This missive arrived earlier for you, milord.”
“Hand it over here, then.”
The footman delivered the neatly folded parchment, bowed and then backed out of the room.
Lord Dextrem broke the seal on the missive and jumped out of his seat when he recognized Madame de Lucci’s handwriting. His throat immediately clogged with anxiety as he read through her scribble.
‘Dear Jemison,
I write you now because I have received some rather startling news about our little fugitive. It is with great confidence that I am convinced she has managed to reach Chastelle...’
“Chastelle?” Lord Dextrem almost bellowed. “How in bloody hell as she gotten there?”
‘and may very well be within the household of Lord Chastelle, employed as a servant or something of the sort. I am making it my duty to take a look into the matter and find out Audelia’s exact whereabouts. In the meanwhile, you must sit still and await my return. I shall send you another missive as I do not intend on returning without her.
Our agreement still stands, Jemison. Don’t you doubt that and you will have what you’ve always wanted. Rest easy and take care for now.
Your friend,
M.
“Rest easy?” Lord Dextrem snorted and moved across the room to a small counter, pouring himself a drink. He had already invested a good many coin into that girl and he refused to be a sore loser. At least Madame de Lucci was right about one thing. Their agreement still stood.
Running a finger across the long thin scar that extended from the corner of his mouth to his left earlobe, Lord Dextrem swallowed down half of his drink and groaned as it burned its way down his throat. The little wretch was going to pay for her actions one way or another and he was going to make sure of it.
The wench had been a good little romp too, he had to admit it. But it would have been far more enjoyable if she hadn’t been kicking and scratching like a wild creature. From the day he’d first seen her, Lord Dextrem’s attraction to Audelia had surged to his manhood like a burning need. Yes, Miss Rolfen was certainly a pretty little thing. And though her presence at Dextrem House had been for an entirely difference purpose--well, not entirely--he simply had not been able to control himself. The wench was a walking temptation, a sweet passing distraction from his nagging wife.
Moving up to a window, he stared out across his wife’s wide gardens and towards the house their new neighbors had occupied. He’d seen the two little girls Lady Dextrem had spoken of earlier during the eve; two little scamps with brown pigtails and toothy grins. Such innocence...
Draining his glass, Lord Dextrem swallowed thickly and exhaled. It would be a long night, he could tell. No doubt, his wife was already awaiting him in their chamber to lecture him on the significance of children. Sliding the glass back onto the counter with a heavy clink, he shrugged out of his jacket and walked stiffly from the room.
* * *
“Need another glass, mister?”
/> Edwin glanced up from the missive he’d just received and forced a smile. The messenger had but dumped the parchment in his hands and took off without a word. “No, thank you, sweetheart. But perhaps you’ll bless me with your rather...bountiful company when I’m through.”
The woman adjusted her bountiful cleavage and giggled. Obviously the wench was new because every other maid in the building knew he did not look for favors inside the bar. They knew exactly the place to meet him for a little fun. “Anything you want, darling. How about a hour or so from now?”
“I’ll come find you.”
Edwin’s smile remained on the wench until she’d made her way across to the bar and started attending to other patrons. His gaze riveted to the letter and he unfolded it quickly. Neatly scribbled writing flowed across the paper and he read with keen interest, his anxiety slowly increasing as he went on.
‘Dear Edwin,
I heard father speaking of a matter you had put across him just this morning by letter. I inquired with him for the full details and found that the same things that are puzzling you, have managed to find way into my own newly found happiness.
As you must know by now, I am betrothed; have been for a week and have full intention of wedding my bride before month’s end. She’s a sweet little thing with the biggest heart a man could wish for. But let me not bore you with my rambling as we all know you’ve never taken much interest in the more...affectionate benefits a man can experience from being with a woman.
Father has disclosed a rather startling and unsettling information about the woman you have made your inquires about and though I wish I never had to discover such disgusting details, I must share it anyways.
It appears my new bride had been in Madame de Lucci’s care for some time, where she had been introduced to my father for a chance to become his ward. During her visits to our household over the last two months, I had developed a great fondness for Jocelyn and decided to marry her instead. It appears that Madame de Lucci had not been quite content with my decision and Father had offered her some form of settlement to mediate the situation.
I’m somewhat pleased now as, when I look back, my bride had not seemed quite enthused to remain in further company with the Madame. Perhaps it is all in my head, but a part of me feels like Madame de Lucci had planned the entire meeting, convinced I would have made an offer for Jocelyn’s hand and that Father would have done anything to see to my happiness. I am glad that Jocelyn and I had managed to cross paths but the fact that Father had bought my bride still remains. It is that precise detail that bothers me most.
I believe I have matured much over the past year and am no longer the type of man to make eager judgments but I believe Madame de Lucci is operating an establishment that may very well be disregarding the laws of this country. Please take heed, for a woman who operates as she does must have support from very high seats in society.
Your Cousin,
Charmont.
“Great Jesu!” Edwin stuffed the missive into the inside pocket of his coat and moved quickly through the congested bar, cigar smoke burning his eyes. By the time he’d reached the door, the voluptuous wench had managed to weasel her way across the room, blocking his exit.
“Leaving so soon, mister? Thought you we had a rendezvous?”
Edwin chuckled despite his sudden irritation. “Perhaps another time. I have a family emergency to attend you so please accept my apologies. In the mean time...” He reached into his pocket and pressed a pretty coin into the middle of her palm. “Keep this warm for me. I’m confident we shall meet again.”
Smiling, the wench pocketed the coin and pressed a sound kiss on his mouth. Perhaps if I had truly been in the mood, Edwin would have taken her up on the offer. But he had urgent matters to attend to and would waste no more time here. It had taken him around ten minute’s ride from Chastelle town to reach the manor and as soon as he’d arrived, he’d found Ulric and whisked him off to somewhere they could speak privately. Thank heavens Miss Rolfen was asleep when he had.
At present, they were both standing in Ulric’s study and Edwin watched as his friend read...and re-read the missive.
“What do you propose he means?” Edwin asked, rubbing the corner of one eye. God, he needed some good sleep!
“Madame de Lucci may be operating a sham,” Ulric deduced, scratching his temple. “Based on your cousin’s concern, he believes she might be selling off young women to wealthy men.”
“That’s a great accusation to make, Ulric. And as Charmont said, she may have the support of other wealthy men. Like Lord Dextrem. And that is not a good look at all. Who knows who else the woman has in her corner.”
Ulric sighed and ran a palm over his face. “In that case, it’s not just about Audelia, your cousin’s bride...or the already dead Lord Dextrem. It’s about dozens of young women who are being brainwashed with ideas of a future at the expense of earning Madame de Lucci a pretty coin. The men who...buy these girls may have despicable intentions and only God knows what else.”
“Good gracious.” Edwin groaned, pacing the room. “What would have been Lord Dextrem’s intention then? Surely he would not expect to take up a ward as his mistress, beneath his wife’s nose.”
Sighing, Ulric shook his head and leaned against his desk. “We’ll find out tomorrow when he have the bastard. For now, get some shut eye. You look like a mess.”
“So do you.” Edwin eyed hum dubiously. “You don’t look very...murderous right now as I’d expected.”
“Yes, well I’ve been praying.”
Mouth agape and eyes wide, Edwin regarded his good friend, hardly believing a word he was hearing. Praying? Since when did Ulric St. Rosso engage in such religious forms of activity? Edwin could admit that he, himself, had not sent out a good honest prayer in a long while but Ulric’s word had startled him to the core.
“Praying?” he said. “To God?”
“Yes, Edwin.” The man even had a smile on his face while he said so. “Audelia convinced me to pray with her tonight. It was a rather...calming experience.”
“Oh.” Edwin rocked on his heels and scratched his jaw. “Well then. Good for you. I suppose I should get that shut eye now. Good night.”
Ulric chuckled softly. “Pray too if you want to, Edwin. At least He won’t jest at you.”
Twenty-one
“Your lordship!”
Ulric shove his shirt into his breeches and slid his feet inside his boots. “What is it, Gilgallon?”
The guard’s voice came muffled from the other side of the door. “You have a visitor, Sir.”
Cursing, he finished straightening his clothing and grabbed his cloak. “Who in devil’s name visits this early in the morning?”
“It’s a woman, milord. She’s come alone.”
Ulric opened the door and directed his glare at the guard. “I have business to attend to, Gilgallon. And it cannot wait.”
“Sir, I believe, one of your footmen have already let her inside and seated her in the parlor.”
“Goddamn it!” Ulric shrugged on his cloak. “Find Edwin and let him know of the situation. Whoever she is, she’d better not be long.” Glancing through the door to his adjoining bedchamber, Ulric sighed, grateful that he had not woken Audelia. He then left his dressing room and headed down the stairs. He had no female acquaintances so who the hell was making a call at his house?
He arrived in the parlor precisely two minutes later and swing the door open.
“Madam, I will get right at it. It is not proper at all to make a social call so early in the morning. I could have still been abed and that would make you a grave disturbance.”
The short plump woman turned to face him, brows raised with apparent surprise. She was an older woman, could possibly be Ulric’s mother but that mattered not. He had a feeling the woman was being brash on purpose and he did not like it.
“Forgive me, Your Lordship. I might have misjudged my timing. But I was sent on behalf of my employer, Lady Shentil
.”
Of all the... “What could Lady Shentil possibly want with me?”
The woman retrieved a stack of papers from the center table between the armchairs, and it was then that Ulric’s gaze had averted from hers.
“To seek your interest in a matter, Sir.” The woman walked up to him and held the papers out to him. “Her Ladyship has it on good authority that you would be a fine addition to her list of worthy benefactors.”
Benefactors, benefactors. Ulric was quite fed up with the blasted word. He took the papers and skimmed through them. They were just documents and pamphlets, giving a summary of the aims of Lady Shentil’s establishment. Ulric scowled and handed her back the papers.
“On whose authority?”
“Lady Hyslop, sir. Your sister.”
Rubbish. Ryia would have never said such a thing; would have never suggested him as a benefactor. And if she had, Ulric knew she would have confessed it. “What is your name?”
The woman flustered but quickly regained composure. “Bette Tulley, sir. Miss Bette Tulley.”
Ulric resisted the urge to growl. “Well Miss Bette Tulley, you and Lady Shentil are wasting your time. I am not interested in becoming a benefactor.”
“But, Your Lordship, think of a poor girl who could benefit from your kindness.”
“Then I shall adopt one when I feel I am ready to.”
Miss Tulley pursed her lips. “In that case, you can always offer up a generous donation. I’m sure--”
Ulric released a harsh breath. For one fleeting moment, he had started to think that Lady Shentil was just like this rotten Madame de Lucci. “Look, take no offense here but you’ve interrupted plans which are very important to me. Give Lady Shentil my regards. I must be going.”
“Your Lordship--”
Ulric ushered the woman, sputtering and whining, through the room and down the empty hall. As soon as he managed to take her through the front door, he watched as she reluctantly--and quite angrily--embarked her carriage. The vehicle was off his estate faster than even he had expected. Good riddance.
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