A Carnal Agreement (Regency Intrigue Book 1)

by Silvia Violet

  “Thank you Susanna,” she said. “You can’t know how much your bravery means to me.”

  Susanna smiled. “I don’t think they’ll kill him, my lady. At least not right away. They want you too. I think they hoped to use him as bait.”

  “Do you think she’ll drug him, like she does the women?” Rhys asked.

  Susanna nodded. “I think so. I heard her say she would enjoy making him helpless.”

  “No!” Cassandra stomach churned. She would do anything to prevent Mark being used like that, even if it meant giving herself over to them. “Rhys, we have to go now.”

  “You heard what Susanna said. They intend to take you too.”

  “Mark can’t handle this. Think what Katherine has already done to him.”

  “He is strong and stubborn, Cassandra. He will make it.” Stanton reached for the bell pull. “Let’s call the guards in. They can help us make the best plan to get Mark out.”

  “ There’ll be others there too,” Susanna said. Her voice was shaky, but she took a breath and continued. “Women whom they’ve captured. They were hoping for some deliveries today.” She looked at Cassandra with tears in her eyes. “They planned to take your sister, my lady.”

  Rhys leaned down and patted Susanna’s shoulder. “Linton gave their plan away and Mark got to her in time. We won’t let them hurt her, and we’ll get the others out.”

  “I’m going with you.” Cassandra gave Stanton a look that dared him to contradict her.

  “So am I,” Amanda said from the doorway.

  Both Cassandra and Rhys looked at her and spoke simultaneously. “No, you’re not.”

  “I am. They intended to drug me and sell me to men for entertainment. I have as much right as Cassandra to see they are not allowed to do this to me or anyone else.”

  Stanton scowled. “Cassandra will not be going either.”

  “I will.”

  “I cannot help Mark and protect you at the same time.”

  Cassandra tried to keep a handle on her anger. “You don’t have to protect me. Thanks to my cousin, I’m a crack shot and I’m not bad with a knife either.”

  “I see.” Stanton raised his brows. “Still, I cannot let you go. Mark would have my head.”

  “Mark may not have his own head if we sit around arguing all day.” Amanda scowled at them both. “Cassandra and I are both going.”

  Stanton shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

  Amanda exhaled sharply. “I do not wish to argue further with you.”

  Stanton stood. “I’m going to round up Sidney and Ewen. I’m also going to order the other guards not to allow impetuous young women to leave the house.”

  Amanda turned to face Susanna, ignoring his last comment. “Rebecca is off to find a doctor. Susanna, what can we do to make you comfortable?”

  The young woman’s hands shook, and she labored for breath. “I have to go back.” Her voice so low it was nearly imperceptible.

  “We’re not going to let more harm come to you,” Cassandra whispered, overcome with emotion for this woman who had risked so much for Mark.

  ***

  Mark nearly choked as one of his captor’s forced wine down his throat. This was the second time he had awakened to such treatment. The first time, he lay on the floor of a moving carriage, a rather poorly sprung one at that.

  This time his mind cleared rapidly, perhaps they’d misjudged how much wine he had swallowed. He was no longer in the carriage. Now he lay on a cold, hard floor. This wine had no bitter aftertaste, and he did not feel the overwhelming tiredness that had come on him instantly when he had been drugged. Perhaps he was being given a reprieve.

  He tested his bonds, but his wrists and ankles had been tied too tightly for him to slip free. A rope connected the two sets of bonds, forcing him to keep his legs bent and his back arched. Katherine’s footmen had made quite a neat package of him, but he would get his revenge.

  As his mind cleared, he focused on his surroundings. He had a vague memory of being carried down stairs, and the floor beneath him was made of packed earth. His cell contained only a tin cup and a ragged blanket. The cup appeared to be full of water, but thirsty as he was, he had no intention of drinking it.

  He rolled over on his stomach and worked at freeing his hands. The coarse ropes tore at his wrists, but he ignored the pain. After a few minutes, he realized he had no hope of tearing the ropes. But perhaps, by rubbing them against the stone wall, he could make them fray.

  As he scooted toward the wall, he realized he was sweating. The thick, oppressive air of his cell rested heavy on his skin. Was it getting hotter? That didn’t make sense. There was a small window near the top of the cell, and he saw that night had fallen. The underground cell ought to be freezing. Instead, he was as warm as if he lay in front of a blazing fire.

  Apparently he’d been drugged again, but this potion had different effects. His skin grew more sensitive. His clothes irritated and aroused him everywhere they made contact with his flesh. All over his body, sharp points pulsed beneath his skin. The potion must be some type of aphrodisiac. It took all Mark’s concentration to work his way to the wall where he could rub the ropes against the rough rock.

  To keep from going crazy from the riot of sensations, he focused on the need to get free. But his mind kept clouding. He was slowly losing control of himself, and he wanted to scream in frustration. If he couldn’t fight this incredible urge for satiation, he would never get free.

  He looked over his shoulder and saw the ropes beginning to come apart. He increased the vigor with which he chafed them against the rock. Unfortunately he could not avoid catching his hands on the rock as well. The skin at the base of his palms and his wrists was torn and bleeding, but he didn’t stop. The pain helped him ignore the fire raging in his body.

  He assumed he’d been given the drug so Katherine could torture him with his need. She would revel in his humiliation. He had to have himself under control when she came for him.

  He clung to that thought and to the sensation of blood trickling through his fingers as the pulsing sensations changed. They were no longer localized. Now imaginary hands seemed to stroked up and down his limbs. He had to be touched, had to gain relief. Sweat dripped down his face.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Cassandra, Amanda, Rhys and several of the guards had been discussing possible scenarios for quite some time. Cassandra was growing impatient. Time was critical and she would rather act on a plan than continue to sit in her drawing room while Mark’s life was in danger.

  Suddenly Amanda looked up from the map she had been studying. “I’ve got it. The perfect solution.”

  Rhys eyed her suspiciously. “What is your plan?”

  She ignored him, turning instead to Susanna. The young woman was obviously in pain, but she was doing everything she could to fight it. The doctor said she would have a rough time of it until the first round of cravings wore off, but if he’d guessed right as to what the drug contained, there would be no lasting harm. The man had bandaged her injuries and put her broken arm in a sling. But she’d refused to take the laudanum he offered, saying she must remain awake to help them save Mr. Foxwood.

  She was wracked with chills, so to relieve some of her discomfort, Amanda covered her with blankets, and Rebecca brought her hot tea laced with brandy. Cassandra sat by her, holding her hand and wiping the perspiration from her brow.

  “Do you have any idea who delivers the captive women to Southwood Grange, or who is there to receive them?” Amanda asked.

  Susanna took a few deep breaths. “They try to use different men, thieves they hire off the street. They...” She paused as a spasm shook her. “They don’t want any one man to know how many woman they’ve taken.”

  “So some of our men could pretend to deliver a woman, and Lady Southwood might never know the difference?”

  “No,” Susanna gasped. “They watch Lady Reddington.” She paused again. “You must use someone else.”

  Ewen
spoke up. “I’ve some friends, a couple of brothers. Their sister was in service to Walter Linton. She’s lucky to have escaped him with her life. I’m sure they’d be more than willing to help us.”

  Amanda smiled at him. “Excellent.”

  “Whom do you propose they deliver to Lady Southwood?” Rhys asked, his voice too low and cold for Cassandra’s comfort.

  “Me, of course,” Amanda responded.

  Rhys closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Under no circumstance.”

  “Do you have another way to save Mark?”

  “This is madness. Cassandra, I beg of you—”

  “It is unlikely Walter Linton has given up searching for me,” Amanda said. “I am certain there are men on the streets with instructions to bring me to Southwood once they find me. If you have me, you’ll gain entry and find Mark and the women they are holding.”

  Stanton made a low sound like a growl. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I hope that as Mark’s friend you would do anything to rescue him and keep other women from being treated like this.” Amanda gestured toward Susanna.

  Rhys scowled. “As Mark’s friend, I am willing to do anything. However, I am not willing to let you risk your life.”

  “Why would you do this, Amanda?” Cassandra asked, trying to intervene before Rhys and Amanda’s anger escalated further.

  Color crept into Amanda’s cheeks, and her eyes glowed with indignation. “Because Southwood, Linton, and their allies deserve to die for what they’ve done to women like Susanna, to you, to Mark, and for what they wanted to do to me.”

  Cassandra had never seen her sister look so impassioned or so determined. Nothing would deter her now. “Tell us the rest of your plan.”

  “Am I the only sane person here?” Stanton ran his hand through his hair roughly, destroying its perfect shape. “Will no one else protest this madness?”

  “Rhys, one or more of us is going to have to risk our lives to save Mark’s,” Cassandra said.

  “Mark would never want you or your sister to endanger yourselves. He would never let either of you serve as bait.”

  Ignoring him, Amanda began to outline her plan. In the end, all of them, even Stanton, agreed that it was the best chance they had.

  Stanton, Cassandra, her sister, and four guardsmen approached Southwood Grange on horseback. They used an overgrown path that would bring them to the house from the back of the property.

  The trees concealed them, but the going was slow and Cassandra’s impatience grew with every step. What if we are too late? She asked herself this question over and over until she wanted to push her horse to a gallop, risking the animal’s life and her own.

  Sidney led them, using a small lantern he planned to extinguish when they neared the house. Cassandra could just make out the shadowy form of Amanda’s rigid back as it swayed up and down with her mount’s movements. In the brief intervals when she wasn’t agonizing over whether Mark was alive, she berated herself for agreeing to Amanda’s reckless plan.

  Susanna had finally taken the laudanum she desperately needed. But first, she’d described the layout of Southwood Grange. She knew it well, since the Lintons had taken her there before forcing her to work at Miss Caroline’s.

  Cassandra and Sidney would position themselves near a door leading directly to the cellar while Stanton and Ewen stayed near either side of the main entrance. Ewen’s friends, John and Thomas, would knock on the door and enter, pretending to deliver Amanda. Once inside, they would eliminate anyone who was in the foyer and let Stanton and Ewen in. Amanda would leave and circle around to find her sister.

  When the four men had fought their way to the basement and gotten the prisoners free, they would exit through the basement door with those they had rescued, and the whole party would ride to safety. At least that’s how it would work in theory. Cassandra feared they would meet with more resistance than they could handle, and some or all of them would not survive the night.

  When the trees began to clear, the back gardens of the estate appeared. The party halted, dismounted and tied their horses. After urging everyone to circle up, Rhys gave a few last instructions.

  Cassandra’s heart thundered in her chest. She listened intently to all the sounds around her as Rhys went over the details of getting Amanda and the men inside. Leaves rustled in the woods, and the screech of a nearby owl made her jump. She expected to be discovered any moment, but no sounds came from the house. The horses stood still and calm. They were likely to sense any strangers before she would.

  Finally Rhys waved her and Sidney on. They began to move with painstaking slowness toward the spot where they would wait. The boxy hedges of the classical garden failed to hide them. The illumination from the moon was welcome as a light for their path, but it increased their exposure. She held her breath until they were on the far side, within the shadow of the house.

  They crept along, pressing themselves against the wall and pausing every step to listen for any sign of movement within. When they rounded the corner of the house, the land began to slope downwards. They found the cellar door exactly where Susanna had said it would be. Also as she had promised, a wilderness garden stood several yards from it.

  As they left the protection of the wall to make their way towards the garden, a cat appeared out of nowhere. It streaked across the lawn in front of Sidney and nearly tripped him. Cassandra fell against him, and they both went down in the grass.

  They lay there for the space of one heartbeat, then two, then three. Sidney rolled her off of him and whispered. “Are you all right?” She nodded, and he helped her up.

  She had bitten her tongue painfully to withhold a cry of surprise, but that was inconsequential. They were still alive, and they had only a few yards to go before they could conceal themselves in the trees.

  ***

  Mark’s mind was in overdrive. His body pulsed. He clenched his teeth against need that had the potential to drive him mad.

  The scrape of a key against the lock of his cell made him tense. He deliberately rubbed his bloody palms against the wall to help him control his racing thoughts.

  The door swung open, Katherine entered. For a moment, he lost his grip on sanity. His entire world narrowed to the juncture of her legs, deliciously outlined in riding breeches so tight they must have been made for a small boy. In that brief second, he would have traded anything for the relief she could bring him. A squeeze of his fists brought back pain and his grip on reality.

  “I can see my little preparation has taken effect. It is most potent, isn’t it?”

  He glared at her and said nothing, but try as he might, he could not keep his body still.

  “Hmmm, I can’t decide what I’ll enjoy more? Watching you suffer while I deny you release or fucking you while you beg me for more.”

  “Bitch.”

  Her smile widened. “I wonder how long our potion will hold you in its throes. Perhaps even too long for me. Some of my guards prefer men. I wonder what would it be like to see them toy with you?”

  Mark knew she would do it. He had no intention of being raped by her or any of her foul guards. He fought against the surge of anger that only served to heighten the effects of the drug.

  He needed to distract her, but it was difficult to construct the words he needed. “Why, Katherine? Why… are you… doing this?”

  “You refused to comply with my wishes and sought to humiliate me. Now you will be the one who will grovel. You will beg for death before I kill you.”

  “No. Why are you… selling… women?”

  She smiled. For a moment, her lips captivated his senses. “It’s my inheritance.”

  Had he heard her right? “Your inheritance?”

  She paced back and forth before him, more agitated than he’d ever seen her. “My father introduced me to this world when I was but fifteen. He—” she stumbled over her words. Mark thought for a moment he saw tears in her eyes. “He would have sold me if I had not done his b
idding, but I learned to enjoy it. He was right. Pleasure is worth any price, and men will pay dearly for it.”

  Her father? He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. But even after such a vile story, he was entranced by her movements. His hips rocked forward of their own accord.

  He would have to make his move soon. Despite his hatred of her, he gave her one last chance to admit she was wrong. “Katherine, you don’t have to do this. No matter what your father did to you.”

  She bent down and traced the line of his jaw with a long, sharp fingernail. “I don’t have to, but I want to.” She stood again, laughing. “God, it’s good to see you like this. You won’t be able to hold onto your arrogance for long. Soon I’ll break your body like I broke your heart.”

  He pulled his feet under him and kneeled up. “Don’t do this, Katherine.”

  “Beg me, Mark.” She took a step closer to him. “Beg me to stop.”

  He swung his arms, snapping the last thread of the rope that connected them to his feet. His clasped hands connected with her head, and she crumpled to the floor. He ripped the frayed ropes at his wrists and wrestled with those holding his ankles.

  Fortunately, Katherine had been so sure of the drug’s power she’d dismissed his guards. Groans echoed from one of the women imprisoned near him. He had no intention of leaving them to the fate Katherine had devised, but first he had to escape and find help.

  ***

  Amanda slumped against John’s shoulder, staring straight ahead as if she were in a stupor. John’s younger brother Thomas lifted his hand to knock. Once she heard his firm knock, she knew there was no turning back.

  A young but severe looking footman opened the door. “What’d’ye want?”

  “As ya can see, we’ve come to make a delivery to yer mistress,” John said, pushing at Amanda. “Stand up there, ya haughty miss. Let ‘em get a look at ya. This the woman they’ve been waiting for, Reddington’s sister-in-law?”

  “I’ll take her then.” The footman reached for Amanda’s arm.