“But I’ve been there!”
“Been where?” the dowager asked.
“To that apartment. Long ago, and it was after dark. I can’t guarantee I will recognize it, but I can try.”
Somerset turned to Graham.
Graham shrugged. “She may be our only hope.”
“Then let us not waste time.” The duchess and Miss Delaney stood from the edge of the bed and together, the five of them made for the stairs.
They arrived in Spitalfields nearly an hour later, thanks to congestion on the roadways. With every minute that passed, Graham became more and more worried. What would Beeston do to her? What was he doing to her now? He had to push the thoughts from his mind before his imagination ran away with him. With any luck, the man just wanted her for ransom, and a heavy purse would persuade him to let her go.
A shiver chased up Graham’s spine. He had a feeling that would not be the case at all. Everything he’d heard about Beeston told him he was a beast of a man with very little concern for anyone but himself, let alone a woman whom he deemed his property.
That thought made Graham cringe. It wasn’t an uncommon thought in the world—the idea that a wife was one’s property—and yet he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around it. She was just as much human as he was, and he would treat her as such. Sure, they had different strengths, but they were meant to compliment one another, not dominate one over the other.
“There,” came Miss Delaney’s voice, snapping Graham from his thoughts. He glanced out the window to see they’d come to a stop very near to where Plato’s Assembly gathered. Wouldn’t that be ironic if the man had been hiding out just upstairs from the coffee house?
“That one?” Somerset asked, pointing to a building that held a bookshop on the level of the street, and what appeared to be housing above.
“One of these, for sure,” the woman replied.
The duke turned to his wife. “You will stay here this time—there will be no arguments.”
Her Grace wisely didn’t argue this time, and for that, Graham was grateful. There wasn’t time for discussion. He wanted to get Hannah out of there as soon as was possible.
“Mother,” Somerset said, turning to the dowager.
“I will stay with Grace. Go, hurry.”
Graham scrambled out of the carriage after Miss Delaney, who led them to the door she recognized.
“I think this is the one. I can’t be entirely certain, but I seem to remember this blue paint.”
“We will begin the search,” Somerset said. “You wait here and maintain a lookout.”
The woman nodded and then Graham and Somerset pushed through the door and started up the stairs.
Chapter 28
How long had she been here? It felt like days, or maybe just hours. She had no way of knowing, since the room was pitch black. Beeston had left some time ago, but it had been almost as dark in the next room when he’d opened the door to leave. So it was difficult to know what time of day it was. Hannah had dozed off several times—it was impossible not to in such darkness. And now she’d completely lost track of time.
Deep breaths. She relied on them to keep her calm as she waited.
Waited for what? Death? Salvation? Graham?
Her heart ached as she thought of him. Was he worried about her? Did he know the truth now? That she hadn’t really been taking the laudanum? That it had all been a silly, foolish ruse to trap Beeston and give him a dose of his own medicine?
What a mutton-headed ninny she was! And now, she might never see Graham again.
The sound of muffled voices reached her ears—in the darkness, she heard everything. Were they in the apartment—if that was even what this was? Or were they…
Evan. That was his voice. She’d know that growl anywhere. They had come for her, but would they be able to retrieve her without a fight? What if someone got hurt? She’d never forgive herself if something happened to Evan or Graham.
Hannah fumbled around in the dark. She hadn’t dared do so before, but knowing they were so close, she felt emboldened. She felt her way across the floor, on hands and knees, toward the sounds of their voices. They were getting louder, they pounded on the outside door. Would Beeston open it?
She reached the wall and ran her hands up it, trying to find a door, a handle—
“Ah!” Hannah went flying backward, landing on her bottom, her face throbbing from whatever had been shoved into it.
“You stupid woman!” Beeston hissed as he scrambled into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Where are you?”
Hannah wanted to laugh. He really thought she was going to speak and give away her position? No, she had a better idea.
He was stomping about the room, clearly looking for her—she could barely make out his shadow—but if she moved just a bit to her left…
Beeston went tumbling over her in the darkness, crashing to the floor, taking furniture with him, in a chorus of grunts and grumbling. “Hannah!” he growled. “I’ll kill you.”
And she knew he would. Which was why she had to get out of there. With only a general idea of where the door was, she lunged toward it in the darkness, finding the handle and yanking it open. The rest of the place was dim, but at least she could see where the devil she was going now.
“Don’t you dare!” Beeston was after her, and with her bad leg, she had a disadvantage. But she had to try to get to the door. To Graham.
“I’m here!” she cried out as she hobbled through the apartment, overturning a small table and then a chair into the path behind her.
The door was within reach. She was going to make it.
But just as she reached out for the doorknob, Beeston’s hand closed around her wrist, yanking her backward with a sharp jerk, while at the same time, two men busted through the door in a cloud of dust and broken wood.
“Graham!” she cried, her heart soaring at the sight of him. Even covered in dust, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
“Hannah!” He began to step toward her, but halted just before Hannah felt the cool barrel of Beeston’s gun meet her temple.
Dear God. Graham had never been so terrified in all his life.
No, that wasn’t true, was it? He’d felt this before…the day his parents had perished in the fire. He’d just stood there, much like he was doing now, completely helpless. Unable to save them. Knowing that if he went into that burning building, he’d lose his life too and leave Daphne all alone in the world.
And now he was the one terrified of being left alone in the world. He couldn’t imagine life without her, without his Hannah. There had to be something they could do. But what? The man had a gun pointed at her head, and heaven knew he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if Graham or Evan made a wrong move.
He met Hannah’s eyes, clouded in fear, shimmering with tears and longing. Longing to be set free, no doubt. Her lip began to tremble, but she was trying to be brave. He could see that. She hadn’t given up. Not yet.
“Beeston,” the duke said, his tone cajoling. “This isn’t necessary. Put down the gun.”
“You would love that, wouldn’t you?” the man spat back, and Graham realized in that moment how deranged he was. The man was mad.
But Somerset ignored him. “Look here,” he said, pulling a coin purse from inside his coat and dangling it in the air. “You would never run out. It is far more than I offered you the first time.”
“You think I can be bought with a bit of coin?”
“A bit?” the duke raised his brows. “This is far more than any person truly needs.”
“Yes, but it’s not really what I want.” He pressed the gun harder into Hannah’s temple, eliciting a gasp from her.
Graham’s stomach churned. He was going to shoot her. Even just a slip of his finger and—
The shot was deafening. It rent the air, sending Graham and Somerset to the ground, confusedly trying to make sense of what had happened. Dear God. Hannah!
Chapter 29
&nbs
p; It took Hannah longer than it ought to have to realize she was still alive. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her stomach twisting so violently with fear that she doubled over and fell to the ground. Right beside her husband.
Her dead husband.
“My God,” she whispered, trying to understand what had happened, but nothing was making sense.
She looked across the room to where Graham and Evan both sat on their knees, seemingly as stymied as she was, their gazes focused on something behind her. Slowly, Hannah turned to look behind her. There, in all her courtesan glory, stood Veronica, a smoking gun in her hand, a smug look of satisfaction on her face.
“Veronica?” Hannah mumbled, in awe of the woman standing before her. “How did you…?”
“It’s not the first time I’ve had to scale a wall,” she said with a wink. “Are you all right?”
Hannah looked down at herself to assess if there’d been any damage. “I think so,” she replied.
And then, before she could make another move, a pair of arms gathered her up and pulled her tightly against a strong, lean body. She melted into Graham, the tears she’d been holding back flowing freely now. It would take a while for her to realize she was truly safe, truly free. But for now, she would revel in the warmth of her intended.
“We heard a gun shot!” Grace appeared in the doorway, her eyes wild, her breathing belabored from clearly running up the stairs.
“Grace, you’re going to tax yourself and the babe,” the dowager scolded, coming up behind her. “And look…” She gestured through the broken doorway into the small apartment. “Everything is just as it should be. Well done, Miss Delaney.”
Hannah could hardly believe her mother, of all people, was offering praise to a woman of the night. It seemed people could change after all. Just not Beeston. What an act he’d put on for her that day in her chamber, seemingly broken and guilt-ridden. All lies. But he’d never be able to tell another.
Hannah swiped at her eyes and looked at the dead form of Beeston lying on the floor. Only then did it occur to her that Miss Delaney could pay royally for her crime, no matter that it was in defense of another.
“Veronica,” she said, pushing away from Graham and coming to her feet. “No one must know what you’ve done.”
The woman, confident and buxom, sauntered to Hannah. “You needn’t worry about me, my lady. I’ve always taken care of myself.”
“I’m sure you have but—”
“It will look like suicide.” Evan came up beside her and gestured to Beeston. He still held his own gun in his hand.
“And what about the door?” Grace put in. “I think that makes it look a bit more like murder, don’t you?”
“We had to break in after we heard a gunshot,” Graham said, and Hannah smiled up at him as she reached for his hand.
“Of course you did,” she said.
“Then it is settled. We all agree on what happened?”
Everyone nodded, and then, one by one, they filed out of the little apartment. Graham held tightly to Hannah’s hand as they stepped through the open doorway, and she didn’t bother to spare even one last glance for the man she’d called husband.
Chapter 30
Graham arrived at Somerset House the next morning, the same time he always did, eager to see his bride. As he divested himself of his greatcoat and hat, he realized that, in spite of the earth-shattering events of yesterday, the house was surprisingly back to normal. The servants bustled about, and he could hear the duchess and the dowager chatting in the front parlor. Yet, there seemed to be an air of lightness to the whole scene where there had once been a dark shadow hanging overhead.
He didn’t bother to announce himself to the ladies—there was only one lady he wished to see this morning. So he bounded up the stairs two at a time and practically ran down the corridor until he reached her door. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous—they were in love, to be married soon, and had shared some intimacies already. But something about this felt different. Perhaps it was knowing that she was finally, truly free to be his. That there was no more threat to their happiness, be it man or medicine.
He turned the knob and poked his head through the door. “Good morning,” he said, smiling at the vision of her propped up in bed, a large tray of food on her lap. “How is my favorite patient?”
She beamed back at him. Even with her mouth full of food, she was beautiful, radiant. His dream come true.
“You shouldn’t play favorites with your patients, you know?” she teased, her dark eyes glistening in the morning light.
Graham closed the door behind him and moved to the bed, placing his bag on the floor and taking a seat beside her. “You will have to find it in your heart to forgive me, but I simply cannot help myself.”
“Well,” she giggled, “perhaps I can allow it just this once.”
He couldn’t wait any longer. He lifted up off the seat and placed his hands on either side of her on the bed before leaning down to capture her sweet lips. “Someone’s been eating sweet biscuits for breakfast,” he murmured.
“I would offer you some,” she said, her voice lower now, seductive, “but then you wouldn’t be able to kiss me.”
He needed no more encouragement. He would forego a lifetime of sweet biscuits in order to be able to kiss her and never stop.
Their tongues intertwined. She was so soft, so perfect. Everything he’d ever dreamed of. Hannah, his beautiful, beautiful bride. But suddenly, kisses were not enough.
He pulled away and took the tray from her lap, placing it on top of the dresser. Then he began to divest himself of his clothing—he couldn’t do it fast enough. And Hannah watched, lust and desire infusing her smile, lighting her eyes.
“Do you plan to have your way with me right now?” she asked, hope in her tone.
“If it pleases my lady.”
“Oh, it pleases her.”
With one last tug of his cravat, it came free and he tossed it to the floor, along with his boots, pants, and shirt, leaving him clad in only his undergarments. The proof of his desire straining against his drawers.
Hannah patted the bed, inviting him to join her, and he did so with great alacrity. He climbed atop her, showering her with kisses, with love.
Never in her life had Hannah imagined lovemaking could be so…loving. But Graham was so gentle, so caring, so concerned with her pleasure that it nearly made her cry. How was she so fortunate to have this man in her bed, in her life? After so many years of hating her life, hating herself, it felt like the most wonderful dream. A dream from which she hoped she never awakened.
His hands caressed her as their tongues danced with one another. Everything was so soft and wet and sweet, and Hannah wanted more. She’d never had the opportunity to be adventurous in bed. Her encounters had consisted of Beeston waking her in the dead of night, drunk and slobbering all over her. Hardly the stuff of dreams. But this…this was a dream. And Hannah was about to make Graham’s dreams come true, too.
She pushed against him, their eyes locked as she traded places with him, forcing him to the bed as she climbed atop him.
“Dear God,” he whispered. “Have I died?”
“You are about to,” Hannah purred. “In the Shakespearean sense, of course.”
This seemed to fuel his fire, and Graham reached up to pull her down to him, kissing her like she’d never been kissed in her life. Loving her like she’d never been loved.
And then, Hannah slipped herself over him, reveling in the glorious desire that filled her body and soul. It was enough to make her cry tears of joy, of relief, but they were short lived, replaced with sheer ecstasy as they became one, in a perfect rhythm. Until neither could hold back any longer.
Hannah exploded inside, the heat and wonder overcoming her, transcending any earthly feeling she’d ever experienced. And then Graham was with her, holding her closer, tighter. Filling her, pressing further than she thought possible. Loving her harder than she ever could have imagined.
When the fire had died to a dull ember, Hannah collapsed atop him, and then he rolled her to the side, so they lay face-to-face, nose-to-nose. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips, no matter how hard she tried.
“I suppose you will have to marry me now,” she teased.
Graham gave a little laugh. “I suppose I shall,” he replied. “And I shall never, ever complain about it.”
They kissed again, briefly, just a simple gesture of love, rather than a rabid one of passion.
Then Graham turned serious. “If you ever want to talk about what happened—”
“I don’t,” Hannah cut him off. “It was nothing worse than I endured being married to him. Well, aside from the part where he put a gun to my head. That was entirely new, but…thank heavens for Miss Delaney.”
“Indeed.” Graham smiled at her. “You are an extraordinary woman.”
“Perhaps I had to be for such an extraordinary man to love me.”
Chapter 31
“Ah! There you are!”
Hannah glanced up to find Grace standing in the doorway of the parlor, all dressed and ready to leave for some sort of fete, it would seem. “Yes, and I’ve been here for quite some time. Have you been looking for me?”
“Well, not for very long, admittedly,” Grace said, moving toward her. “I went to your chambers first, but Alice said I’d find you here.”
“And why were you looking for me in the first place?”
“Oh, yes, erm…” Grace’s eyes darted about, a clear sign she was about to tell a lie. “I was hoping you would join me on a little shopping trip. I’d love your opinion on the hat I had commissioned.”
“A hat you say?” Hannah confirmed, wondering what was really going on.
“Mm-hm.” Her sister-in-law wouldn’t look her in the eye.
“Well…” Hannah sighed and sat back in her seat. “I had planned to watch the birds from the verandah today, and maybe chat with the worms…”
How to Care for a Lady Page 16
