by Wendy Vella
“I beg your pardon?” She wouldn’t look at him.
“The note you have crushed in your hand. Was it bad news?”
“This?” she said, but it was only a few decibels below a shriek. “No indeed, just a note from a friend who could not make it tonight.”
“And they delivered the message here?”
“Yes. I had left home before it arrived, so they forwarded it to me.”
Leo stepped to the left as she tried to walk around him, blocking her exit. “What’s going on, Beth?”
She appeared confused, even wrinkling her nose.
“La, I declare, Lord Vereton, I am unsure what it is you speak of. I am of course looking forward to the evening, and wished only for a breath of cool air before we took our seats.”
“La?” He kept his eyes on her face, holding her chin up now so she was forced to return his gaze. “You have never in my memory said that word, so I beg of you not to begin now, as it makes you sound like an empty-headed fool.”
“The word la makes me sound empty-headed? That is extremely harsh of you, when at least twenty ladies will use the word multiple times this evening.”
She was trying to change the subject, but Leo was not allowing that.
“Possibly, but I care nothing for them. It is you who concerns me, so tell me what is wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong,” she snapped, anger now straightening her spine. “I have had quite enough of you continually telling me there is. Our betrothal is fake, Lord Vereton, please remember that and stop following and questioning me constantly. I should not have allowed this silly charade to begin with. I blame it on a moment of insanity; I assure you it has now passed. Please excuse me, as I wish to go inside, my lord.”
As she shivered, Leo yielded and released her. Taking her hand, he placed it on his arm, and walked slowly back toward the doors.
“I have decided I wish for our betrothal to end at once, my lord.”
“And yet when last we spoke you had no wish to do so. What has changed?”
“I have just explained that I wish for my life to return to what it was, without you in it. Please do as I have suggested.”
“I do believe that hurt.”
“No it didn’t, and stop needling me.”
“I thought we were just getting comfortable in each other’s company, Beth.”
“No, we are not.”
“But I am beginning to understand you, as you are me.” He was needling her, he conceded, but at least if he was doing that she may forget what was in the note, because he hated seeing the fear in her eyes. For now that was enough—at least until she told him what was going on, anyway.
“It would take a great deal more than a handful of days for me to understand you, Lord Vereton, and as I have no wish to, please do as I have stated.”
“But I know a great deal now about you, my dear Miss Whitlow. I know that this cool facade you portray is hiding a great deal of passion and warmth. That you care for others, and that when I kissed you—”
“Stop it!”
“Tell me what is wrong and I will.”
“Nothing is wrong, and this entire conversation is foolish.”
Leo stopped and turned her to face him, his eyes once again searching her face. “I know you are lying to me, Beth. Will you not trust me so I can help you?”
“Stop asking me this!”
“I will when you tell me what is bothering you. Is it one of the girls in the shop, or the man you thought was watching you? Is that letter you hold bad news?”
“Stop it, Leo.” Her words had run out of strength and were a ragged whisper.
“Tell me.” He moved them into the shadows, not stopping until they were tucked behind a large stone pillar, out of sight. Easing her into his arms, he held her close.
“There is nothing to tell, please release me.”
Looking down at her, he felt it again, the tightness inside his chest. She had become important to him. He just wasn’t sure how that had happened in such a short space of time, when once they had disliked each other intensely.
“Leave this alone, Leo.”
“So you admit something is upsetting you?”
“I do not.”
He could feel the tension in her body, making a lie of her words.
“Liar.” Cupping her jaw, Leo kissed her softly.
She did not resist; in fact she rose to her toes to get closer, and Leo placed a hand on her spine and held there. The feel of her body pressed to his was exquisite, and the taste of her lips bliss. In seconds he’d forgotten everything but Beth, and how much he wanted this woman.
As one kiss finished, another started, and soon her hands were on his shoulders holding him close.
A laugh carried to them on the breeze, and she pulled away from him.
“God help me, what is this madness?” she whispered.
“I am not going to apologize when kissing you was something we both enjoyed, Beth.”
“I wish for you to call off our betrothal.” She said the words slowly. “This must stop for both our sakes. It is not real and never will be.”
“No.”
“B-but why not?”
“Tell me what is bothering you.”
“Other than the fact that I am betrothed to a man I have no wish to wed?”
“Yes, other than that.”
“N-no, there is nothing else wrong.”
“You’re lying to me, Miss Whitlow. Something is wrong, but for now I will not push the matter. However, I will say again that should there be a time you need help, or you wish to tell me, then I am of course at your service.”
“This is silly, Leo. I don’t need you at my service.”
“Is something threatening you, Beth?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, why would someone threaten me?” She looked at his necktie now.
“Why indeed?”
“I’m returning to the readings, so please stop this nonsense and break the betrothal.”
“Not until the season has ended.”
She pushed his chest, so he had little option but to step away from her. He wondered, as he nudged her through the doorway before him, if he should talk to Nick about Beth. He needed to do something, because he knew when someone was scared, and Elizabeth Whitlow was terrified.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The next letter came as Beth lay in a bath of steaming, fragrant water. She always did her best thinking when bathing. Add a cup of tea and plate of food, and she was usually in heaven. Today however, she was finding it hard to achieve that state. So many thoughts were whirling loudly inside her head that she was struggling to focus on a single one.
“A missive has arrived, Miss Whitlow.”
“Thank you, Amanda.” Beth lowered her teacup and pushed herself upright.
“Will you read it in there?”
“I will, thank you.”
Opening the note her maid handed her, she braced herself to read the blackmailer’s words. He wanted money this time, and she was to bring it to St. Mathew’s in Tweed Street at 11.00 a.m. tomorrow. She was to place it under the third pew on the right side of the aisle.
Tell no one, or I shall make you pay by hurting someone you love, WHORE!
Reading the words a second time, Beth felt a measure of calm. The threat was still there but at least now he was demanding something. She could take action, and if she paid, then the people she wanted to protect would stay safe—for now. This would also allow her time to work through a plan to thwart him. Beth knew she could not give in to his demands indefinitely, or the blackmailer would never let her out of his clutches, but for now she would appease him.
She chose to walk the following day, as the distance to the church was not far, and took Amanda with her. It would clear her head, as she had not slept well, visions of Grace and Leo covered in blood haunting her. How had everything changed so quickly in her life? She blamed Leo, of course. Had he not made that ridiculous statement about them being engaged, then
her life would have continued on the way it always had. The rational side of her nature knew that to be untrue, as Leo had nothing to do with the blackmailer, but still, it felt good to blame someone, so he would do.
“’Tis a lovely day, Miss Whitlow.”
“Indeed it is, Amanda,” Beth lied. In fact, it was a terrible day. She was being blackmailed by a man who had violated her in the worst way possible. She’d come to the conclusion it had to be him, but as yet, she had no idea how to stop him. She’d thought about telling Nick, then discarded it; he did not need the added worry at this stage with Grace and the baby.
Beth had thought long and hard about what her next steps should be. Would it not simply be better to disappear from society? But then what was to stop him punishing her by hurting someone she cared for? Would he follow to wherever she went? Was her life to be spent paying his demands? What if he approached her... dear Lord, she could not even contemplate him touching her again.
The day was cool, and she enjoyed the crisp air on her cheeks. It was bracing, and that was definitely what she needed. Beth tensed as she saw the steeple of St. Mathew’s.
“Amanda, I have decided to visit St. Mathew’s. If you have anything you wish to do, then please meet me back here in twenty minutes.”
“I shall sit in the park, Miss Whitlow, if that is all right with you?”
The park was only a short walk away, and Beth felt comfortable knowing her maid would be so close.
“It is, thank you.”
Sucking in a deep lungful of smoky London air, she climbed the steps. Standing outside briefly, Beth looked at the wooden door and prayed he was not inside. All she had to do was drop the money where he had told her to. Suddenly her reticule seemed twice its weight, dangling from her wrist.
Once she was steady, she opened the door and walked inside.
Leo had spent the night rolling from one side of his large bed to the other, so he rose early and bathed. After a ride, and long, leisurely breakfast, where he devoured kippers, ham and eggs, a pot of coffee, and several of his cook’s rolls—unlike others he knew, worry did not deter his appetite—he decided to visit Beth.
She, of course, was the reason for his sleepless night. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanting her, and needing to know what the hell was going on in her life. She was a mix of so many people that he wasn’t sure who the true Elizabeth Whitlow was anymore.
As his carriage rolled through London, he stared out the window at the passing scenery, thinking about the Miss Whitlow he now knew. He could no longer deny the attraction he felt for her, that he’d probably always felt for her but had denied vehemently. Was this why they had always behaved like two circling dogs?
His purpose for visiting was to talk about their betrothal, and then he would insist she tell him what was troubling her, because something was. He’d been investigating long enough now to know when someone was hiding something.
Looking out the window, he guessed he was five minutes away. Inhaling a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. Just the thought of seeing her was making him tense.
He saw her then, walking along the street with her maid. Something made him lean back so she did not notice him, and only when his carriage had rolled on further did he tap the roof for it to stop. Sitting with his face averted until she passed, he waited a few more minutes, then let himself out of the carriage.
“Take the carriage home, Briggs, I will walk the rest of the way.”
“Are you sure, my lord? The day is looking gray.”
Leo looked skyward. “More overcast, but I doubt it will amount to much.”
“As you wish then, my lord.”
His carriage rolled away and he fell in behind Beth. She’d not be pleased to know he was following her again; in fact, it was possible she’d be furious. Leo didn’t care, he simply wanted to understand what was going on with her, and if he had to follow her about to do that he would.
She wore a long, pale green coat and matching bonnet, her back straight, steps confident.
He stopped in the shadows as she halted in front of St. Mathew’s. To the best of his knowledge she attended church on Sunday with her aunt and cousin, but he had not realized she did so during the week.
She said something to her maid that had the woman walking away, and then ascended the church steps. Leo watched her stand outside looking at the doors that would take her inside. He ducked out of sight as she turned his way, and when he moved back, she was entering St. Mathew’s.
Leo followed. When he walked into the cool, dim interior, it was to find her coming back up the aisle. Her head was down, so she did not see him until she was close. He liked to think it was intrinsic awareness of him that caused her head to suddenly shoot up. Her wide blue eyes found him.
“L-Lord Vereton!”
“Miss Whitlow.” He bowed. “How diligent you are to come to church, when it is not even a Sunday.”
She turned and looked to the front, or perhaps to a pew, he wasn’t sure which.
“I, ah, yes. I did not sleep well last night, and felt the need of the soothing presence of a church.”
She was quick-thinking, he’d give her that.
“But you cannot have stayed for more than a few minutes. Are you feeling calmer already?”
Her face was cool, but those eyes were anything but. They were moving left and right with speed, and her hands were clenched around the ribbons of her reticule. Leo stepped closer and took hold of her wrist.
“You and I need to talk.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Beth couldn’t swallow; her throat was so dry the effort made her cough. Leo was here! Stay calm, he knows nothing. She needed to get him out of here before the blackmailer came for the money.
“Is there so little to occupy you in your life that you must spend your days following me about London, Lord Vereton?”
“Actually, I was coming to visit you and saw you walking, so I decided to walk with you, but your step is swift and I did not catch you until now.”
“You are lying!” Beth decided her best defense was attack. “I insist you release me at once from this foolish betrothal, as I have no wish for you to continue to hound me day and night! My sympathies go to your future wife, for she will surely need them if this is how you behave during a fake betrothal.”
He simply smiled at her, flashing those white teeth.
“I do not have the time now for your silly games, my lord. Please step aside, as my maid waits for me outside.”
“No, I’m not going anywhere and neither are you until you give me an explanation for your odd behavior. The man in the street, the note last night, and now your brief visit to St. Mathew’s, which I happen to know is not your church.”
“You are quite mad, my lord, and I have no wish to spend a further minute in your company. Now move!”
“I think not, and if you have no wish to talk here, then we shall go to the park.”
“Admit you followed me,” Beth said, trying to throw him off-balance. The man was far too ready with his words, and rarely unsettled, which seemed unfair as that was her constant state at the moment, especially around him.
“Yes.”
He showed no remorse. Beth tried to free her arm, but he was not letting go.
“How dare you!” She went for outrage. She needed to get him outside quickly, and away from here. “You have no right to do so!”
“But we are betrothed, surely that gives me some rights,” he drawled.
Beth curled her fingers into a fist to keep herself from slapping him. No one could antagonize her like this man.
“You will hurt your hand more than my face, plus you are wearing gloves so the impact will be lessened.”
“Damn you! We are not betrothed, and I wish for you to end it at once!”
“No, and no amount of cursing on your part will change my mind.” The smile on his lips did not reach his dark eyes. Those were deadly serious.
Beth gave her arm a tug and managed to
free it. She dodged around him and toward the door.
“Nice move, but you will not escape me.”
“Go away, Lord Vereton.”
“Why are you here, Beth?”
Her heart thudded faster.
“I told you why.”
“And you were lying, so let me tell you what I think. Of course it is just speculation, and yet I am very good at that. My instincts, so I am told, are second to none.”
“I doubt that, as you were taken in by Harriet Hyndmarsh, but then I have often found that men become addled by a pretty face.”
“She caught me at a weak moment.” The words came from over her left shoulder.
“Weak being the most important word in that sentence,” Beth said, taking the stairs with more haste than care. She started for the park with him now at her side. His stride was equal to two of hers, damn his long legs.
“Surely I am allowed one lapse.”
“Just the one,” she scoffed. Beth looked around, wondering, hoping, she would not see him... that beast.
“You are a heartless woman, Miss Whitlow, to hound me so.”
Beth snorted. “Me, hound you? I think you have that the wrong way round, Lord Vereton.”
“Do you know what I think?”
“I do not care.”
“It’s my belief that you are in some kind of trouble, Beth. Blackmail or—”
She stumbled, and would have fallen had he not grabbed her and resettled her back to her feet.
“Blackmail it is then.”
“I tripped!” she shrieked with far more force than necessary. Panic was coursing through her body now. Stay calm, Beth, he knows nothing, and cannot make you talk.
“No, you tripped because my words unsettled you.”
