Lilly thought to assist him by untying his cravat, but her hands were still bound. She had been unable to make much progress, if any, at loosening the ropes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rescue
Michael stood in the doorway and scanned the faces in Lady Sheffield’s drawing room. “It’s Hawthorn. I’m certain of it. I visited his home this morning and demanded he leave London, leave the country for that matter. But I’m afraid I pushed him too far. And now…And now he’s taken Lilly…”
Michael dropped heavily into an empty chair and put his head in his hands. “All I managed to do was enrage the man. When he saw Lilly leaving the park, he saw a way to get back at me.”
Sitting now, fatigue pulled at Michael’s body. His earlier adrenaline was giving way to hopeless exhaustion.
Where had they gone? Where would Hawthorn take her? He pictured her as she’d been that afternoon at London Hills Manor. Her hair spread around her on the ground as he’d gazed into her golden eyes. Her lips tilted up, smiling seductively at him.
He recalled the moment at the inn when he’d first heard her voice. He’d been unable to believe it was her. His mind had convinced him their love was dead, but his heart had known all along.
In fact, she’d possessed it since the moment he’d seen her standing in the foyer of the Willoughby ballroom. And she’d kept it all these years.
She’d been through so much already. Somehow, Lilly had survived an intolerable marriage for the sake of her family. Out of respect for Glenda, she had observed the mourning period, pretending grief for a man who’d treated her abominably. Her spirit had kept hope alive. She’d returned to London determined to do for her stepdaughter what everyone else had failed to do for her. Assure her happiness and peace.
He pictured her as she’d danced with him. Had it just been last evening? It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he’d held her, guided her, and twirled her around in the Ravensdale’s ridiculously ornate ballroom.
Was she alive even? She had to be! Surely his heart would know if she’d left this earth.
He rubbed his hands over his eyes before facing the room’s inhabitants.
Lady Natalie looked meaningfully at Michael and then her father. Her father looked enraged.
Michael spoke softly, his voice sounding guttural. “I’m going after her.”
These were apparently not the words the earl had been expecting. “You bastard!” Ravensdale was on his feet in an instant, fists clenched at his sides. “I trusted you with my daughter, my only daughter!”
Lady Natalie jumped out of her chair and placed herself in front of her father. “No, Papa! Please. I am the one who does not wish to marry Lord Cortland! Please, Father, please, let him go!” she begged. Michael was surprised to see tears spilling down her face. “Father, please understand, I cannot marry Cortland. I do not love him. Lilly needs him! Let him go!” Lady Ravensdale rose and wrapped her arms around her weeping daughter. Natalie would have collapsed had her father not taken hold of her and guided her back to her seat. She wept softly.
“Enough, Broderick.” The countess spoke firmly to her husband. “Our children are not to be used as chattel in a business deal, or politics, or anything else.” She gently stroked her daughter’s hair and looked him in the eyes. “Enough.”
The earl knelt before of his daughter. At that moment, he was something of a broken man. Michael knew Ravensdale’s greatest priority in life had always been his wife and children. With a fatherly tenderness not normally exhibited, the earl gently brushed Natalie’s hair from in front of her eyes. “Sweeting? I thought this was what you wanted. I thought you were happy with the match.”
Lady Natalie brushed her hands at her eyes like a child. “That’s because you were happy with it, Papa. I so wanted to make you happy, but…I do not love Cortland and he does not love me, and I want what you and Mama have. I have come to realize that marriage ought to be undertaken with much more than a daughter’s desire to please her father.” She tucked her head onto her father’s shoulder and quietly wept some more.
Ravensdale looked over at Michael and gave him a helpless look. “My girl doesn’t wish to marry you, Cortland. Can we agree to destroy the betrothal contacts?” There was a hint of a threat in his voice as both men knew Michael deserved the blame for the dissolution of the betrothal.
But a gentleman could never cry off.
“We can,” Michael said, lifting his head up from his hands. “Please, Lady Natalie, accept my heartfelt apologies…”
Lady Natalie peeked out from her father’s arms to look over at him. The only two who could see her face were Cortland and Danbury. Her tears had magically vanished.
And then—the little minx—she winked at him! “I’m the one who is sorry, Your Grace.”
It was what they’d planned, but not this way. Had she deliberately become hysterical for her father’s benefit? He’d have to thank her later but was more restless than ever to be on his way to Maple Hall, Hawthorn’s estate. It was where Michael had discovered his stolen carriage and team. It made sense that Hawthorn would take Lilly there as well.
When he’d arrived at Lady Eleanor’s town house, he’d sent John to retrieve mounts for them to go after Hawthorn. They could travel faster that way.
John and Arty would both be riding with him.
He gave Natalie what he hoped looked like a grateful nod and then, unable to wait a moment longer, stood and moved toward the door.
“I’m leaving for Hawthorn’s estate as soon as John returns with the horses. My apologies, Ravensdale, Danbury, for missing the vote tomorrow.”
Lady Eleanor had pulled a bell to call for a maid. When the maid arrived, she directed her to pack some food and drinks in bags that would fit on a saddle. She must have been terrified, but the look she bestowed upon Michael said she trusted him to save her niece.
He hoped he was worthy of such faith.
Ravensdale went into the foyer with Michael. Putting one hand on his shoulder, he held out his other for Michael to shake.
Michael grasped it firmly.
“Don’t worry about the vote.” Ravensdale glanced back at Danbury with a grim determination. “We’ll take care of matters here.”
Danbury turned to Michael before responding. “Not if Cortland requires my assistance.” His eyes were sincere.
Michael shook his head. “I’ve got John and Arty traveling with me. You stay with Ravensdale and see what can be done when the call is made.” Just then, Jarvis appeared to inform them John had arrived. The maid ran in, curtsied, and handed him three saddlebags. He took them gratefully.
He would find her.
She would be alive. He had to believe this as he and his two servants, who had turned out to be as loyal as any of his friends, rode hell-bent for leather, to find and save his Lilly.
Just as he ought to have done years ago.
****
Lilly had thought the earl dying before her eyes, but as quickly as the chest pains came, they seemed to cease. Although his hand remained upon his chest, his color returned, and he leaned back in his seat again.
“No more talking,” he ordered.
Lilly closed her eyes and continued picking at the knot the footman had tied. The sun had set, and the driver was forced to slow the carriage as darkness overtook them. She was glad for the horses, they had been pushed too hard.
As happy as she would have been to see Michael, she did not think he would come after her in truth. Not for the reasons she had told the earl. But because no one knew she had been taken—let alone that she was even with the earl.
Aunt Eleanor must be beside herself. Perhaps they assumed she’d simply decided to leave town and never return. Perhaps they believed she had childishly run away, for that’s what she’d wanted to do initially.
“Is my aunt truly ill? You were lying, were you not, when you told me she had fallen ill?” She ignored his instructions to remain silent.
The earl leaned
his head back against the bench and observed the ceiling of the coach. “She is an old woman. She will die soon. We all die.”
“Oh, please! She is not truly ill though, is she?”
“For God’s sake, no, girl. Leave me in peace.”
That was something, anyway. Relieved by this knowledge, she again focused upon her current predicament. After so adamantly deciding she didn’t need a man in her life, she was already being tested. She must escape on her own. It was possible she had more reason to live than for herself.
Her courses were still absent. She’d never been late. Not after her father’s death, her mother’s death, or even when Michael had failed to return to England. Oh, yes, she had something to live for.
If she was going to become a mother, her duties began now. She must protect her life and that of the child she might be carrying. She needed to escape.
Ignoring the pain of the rope digging into her, she pulled relentlessly at the knot until it finally loosened, and she could wriggle her hands. Relief swam through her as she loosened the knot further.
But she kept her arms behind her back. She needed to be smart about this. The earl still possessed a gun, and she had nowhere to go. She could not throw herself from a moving carriage as that could harm the baby. If there was a baby.
She watched the earl from under her eyelashes. It was dark enough that he must believe her to be asleep. He winced occasionally and rubbed his chest with his right hand. He’d retrieved the pistol he’d dropped earlier and now held in loosely in his left.
His nose had stopped bleeding, but there were black crusts of blood dried on his upper lip. If he hadn’t been holding her captive, she might have felt sorry for him. Even so, she thought, the man was sick of the mind and probably deserved her pity.
But he was also a murderer. A dead man lay on the floor, blocking the door. Lilly couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Nausea threatened each time she remembered a corpse lay only inches from her feet. She could not dwell on that.
The carriage slowed and turned onto a bumpier road. Noting a few familiar landmarks outside the windows, she realized they had passed through Reading and must be headed toward his estate. The carriage jostled and tipped, the roads rutted from recent rain.
Lilly wrapped the ropes so they would still appear knotted and clenched them tightly in her fists.
After what felt like hours, the carriage slowed to a halt in front of a long brick stable and then bounced slightly as the driver jumped off. When he opened the door, allowing the light from his lantern to shine in, his own eyes opened in horror when the gaze of the dead footman reflected back at him.
The earl scoffed dismissively and took command of the situation. His authority gave the driver no leeway to express his concerns.
“Take care of this mess.” Hawthorn ordered him.
Pausing only a few seconds, the driver removed the lantern and then pulled the dead man out the door. His attempts to prevent the body from hitting the ground failed, and there were several cracking and thumping sounds until it was dragged away.
The earl spoke politely. “My dearest Lady Beauchamp, welcome to Maple Hall, my humble country estate.” He climbed out of the carriage and then reached back in to assist her. Lilly slid across the bench and poked her bound feet out the door. Leaning forward, she allowed the earl to pull her weight forward and catch her as she hopped to the ground. She gripped the rope tightly behind her, not wanting to be discovered.
The dead footman lay a few feet away from the carriage. It was too sad. Did he have a family? Children? She closed her eyes for a moment of respect and then turned away.
“My lord.” She spoke in refined tones, looking down. “If you would be so kind as to unbind my feet, I give you my word, as a lady, I will not attempt to run away. I wish to arrive upon your doorstep with more dignity than these ropes allow. You have my word”—she repeated solemnly—“as a lady.”
Honor, be damned.
This deluded man believed her gentility would prevent her from lying to him. Bending down, he unwound the ropes from around her ankles. Moving stiffly, Lilly followed him across the drive and over to a large, somewhat dilapidated manor.
After stepping inside, the earl guided Lily up the staircase and down a long corridor. Thick layers of dust covered the furnishings, and the musty scent of neglect filled her nostrils. When they arrived at the end, he opened the door to a very large bedroom with a raised bed, dark green velvet drapes, and a canopy. Again, dust had settled everywhere. The room must have gone unused for decades. Where were the earl’s servants? He pointed to a high-backed wooden chair and told her to sit. Not wishing to draw his attention to her unbound feet, she did as he said.
“This will be your chamber for the duration of your visit. If you will excuse me, I have a missive to send. We shall see, my lady, if the duke has any honor after all.” With that, he backed out of the room, closed it, and from the clanking sounds of metal, turned some sort of heavy lock. Lilly waited for his footsteps to recede before pulling the ropes off her hands and freeing herself.
Unexpected pain shot through her arms.
She’d not considered that having them in such an unnatural position would cause her muscles to cramp. Massaging her hands and wrists, she set her blood to circulating once again. She then stretched and twisted to relieve the kinks she had developed over the long, uncomfortable drive.
Feeling somewhat better, she went to the door and tested the knob. It was locked, as she had suspected. Next, she tiptoed over to the window, quietly managed to push it upwards, and looked down.
A considerable distance stretched between the window and the ground, but a branch from a nearby tree beckoned, just within reach. In a pinch, she thought she could reach it and climb down the tree to safety. She chuckled. If this wasn’t a pinch, she didn’t know quite what was.
But it would be near impossible in her gown.
She pulled her head back into the room. The earl had left the lantern, and she used it to illuminate the shelves inside the large wardrobe. Just what she needed!
She’d located a pair of men’s breeches and a large shirt. Knowing she would never make it down the tree in her skirts and corset, with somewhat of a struggle, she managed to undress herself and slip into the less cumbersome clothes. The pants hung loosely, so she tied the waist with the rope that had bound her hands and rolled the bottom of the legs up. Grabbing a sharp letter knife from the top of the desk, she tucked it into her waistband and then went back to the window.
This aspect of her escape was going to require more than a little courage.
Setting the lantern down on a small table by the window, she tentatively slid her bum onto the ledge and then reached one foot through the window so she straddled it. Clutching the building between her thighs, she reached her arms out as far as they could go.
The branch was just out of reach.
Damn, damn, and double damn!
She leaned back inside but stilled at the grinding of the lock on the heavy door once again. Triple damn!
She didn’t have a choice.
No longer tentative, she pulled both feet up to the base of the window and crouched on the sill.
One, two, three!
Using all of her strength and sending up a quick prayer, she launched herself toward the branch awkwardly. As her feet pushed away from the sill, one of them inadvertently caught the edge of the lantern and knocked it off the table. As she grasped at the branch, she was vaguely aware of the sound of shattering glass.
But she had made it to the tree.
Grasping the branch for dear life, she reached around with her feet until she could steady herself on a few of the lower branches. She’d done it. As she analyzed where she ought to climb next, a few crackling pops sounded from the window and an odd sensation warmed her back.
She looked over her shoulder in dawning horror.
Flames climbed the counterpane of the bed and had spread across the floor. The fuel from the lant
ern must have saturated the carpet! Even the leaves and the trunk were now illuminated by golden light flickering through the window.
She’d set the manor on fire!
In the next instant, the earl lurched into the room. Indecision contorted his features. Should he stop Lilly or attempt to douse the blaze?
Not waiting for his decision, Lilly swung herself around the branch and pulled herself closer to the trunk. Once there, she slipped and clawed her way down. She was terrified if she took too much time, she’d find the earl waiting at the bottom. After what seemed like forever, she finally deemed herself close enough to the ground to jump. Letting go of the rough bark, she pushed herself away from the trunk and once again launched herself into the unknown.
The ground was hard, but she rolled as she landed. As she caught her breath, her gaze was pulled back to the window.
Flames greedily reached toward the branches of the tree where she had just been. Screaming, tortured wails sounded from the open window. He was still upstairs in the bedroom.
Was he trapped in the inferno?
If the earl stayed in that room any longer, he would likely not make it out alive.
Surely he would come after her any moment.
She jumped to her feet and took off for the stables. There did not seem to be any household servants about, and the stable employees ignored her to gawk at the fire.
Not one of them seemed to care that their employer was inside. Lilly shivered. They were going to let him die. It was no wonder. Why would they have any loyalty for such a villain as he?
But would any of them come after her? She needed off this estate! She would ride!
Running into the stable, Lilly located a mare who appeared to be calm and gentle, and yet strong enough to carry her. Good Lord, how was she going to do this? When she’d ridden before, there had been a mounting platform! And she’d had Michael and a groom to assist her.
She was going to have to get herself onto that horse.
One of the adjacent horses whinnied. And the others sounded restless. The nearest of them stared at her with a vulnerable look reminiscent of Miss Fussy.
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