Several minutes later, the attendant reappeared, Lord Coldwell two steps behind him. His eyes widened curiously as his eyes settled on her, recognizing her at once, despite her disguise. Without a single word, he grabbed her by her upper arm and pulled her outside onto the street.
He waited until a couple strolled past and they were alone before bending his head towards her and hissing, “What are you doing here? Do you sincerely think your disguise hides the fact that you are a woman?”
Sophia felt his heated gaze drop to her chest, and she instantly rounded her shoulders to help disguise her ample bosom. Her aunt had taught her several tricks to help reduce their appearance, but there was only so much she could do to tame them.
“Look,” she hissed, trying to distract him from her poor costume, “I didn't come to discuss my appearance. I came because I need your help.”
Sophia closed her eyes as Lord Coldwell's sultry smile appeared, revealing those blasted dimples. “I quite like the sound of that. Just the other week you insisted you didn't need me.”
“I don't need you, Miss Phelps does. While you've been idling away your life at your club, I've been working on the case.”
“I've been working too.”
“I hardly consider drinking brandy and playing cards work.”
Just then, a group of gentleman exited the club, laughing loudly and stumbling about as if they were deep in their cups. Lord Coldwell rolled his eyes then quickly pulled her into the alley where they wouldn't be overheard.
“Lord Phelps is in there,” he enunciated slowly as if he were speaking to a small child.
“He is?” Sophia gasped. “But why would he be at his club when his daughter has gone missing?”
“That's precisely what I'm trying to figure out. It would appear to me that he isn't too concerned about her disappearance.”
“Obviously,” she retorted.
“But there must be a reason why. Think about it, Sophia.”
The casual use of her given name made Sophia tingle. She inhaled sharply then quickly looked away. “What's the reason?” she asked lamely, unable to think when he spoke to her in such an intimate fashion.
Lord Coldwell leaned in closely, his breath fanning across her cheek. His nearness was not helping. “Because Lord Phelps is in on it.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“But why?” she asked, tapping her bottom lip as she thought.
“That's what I was trying to figure out when you so rudely interrupted my work.”
Suddenly remembering her reason for seeking him out, she excitedly blurted out, “But I may know where Lydia is. That's what I came to tell you.”
Lord Coldwell looked at her in surprise. “Tell me.”
“I found an address in Gilbert's pocket. Eighty-Nine Willowby Row.”
“That's down by the docks, in a shady part of town.”
“I'm on my way to investigate. I wanted to let you know in case—”
He quickly cut her off, “In case you don't return. No. You will not be going. It's not safe.”
“Nothing I do is safe. That's why I carry this,” she said as she slid a pistol from her hiding place and held it out for him to see.
Lord Coldwell reached out and snatched the pistol from her hand and tucked it into his interior jacket pocket. “See how easy that was? Do you think carrying a pistol will save your life?”
Sophia was flabbergasted. Still looking at the spot where he'd tucked her pistol, she hissed, “Give that back.”
“No. Go home, Sophia. I will investigate the address and send word to you of what I find.”
In a fit of anger, Sophia kicked the unsuspecting Lord Coldwell in the shin.
His eyes widened as he scoffed, “What was that for?”
“For being an arrogant, controlling brute. You were assigned to be my partner in this case, not my boss. You will not order me about. If I wished to sit home like a proper young lady, I would never have become a spy.”
“You should never have become a spy,” he quipped.
“Fortunately, I didn't seek your approval. Now, give me back my pistol and let's be off. We're wasting time.”
He stared at her for several long seconds before reluctantly reaching for her pistol and returning it to her. “Now, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to go to the docks to check out the location. You're going to go for the authorities.”
“No.”
“No?” he questioned, irritated that she was defying him once more.
“No. We will not send for the authorities until we know they are needed. We will go down to the docks together. If we find something suspicious, we will send for them.”
Lord Coldwell looked heavenward. “I rue the day I was ever assigned to protect you.”
Sophia bristled. “Protect me? Did I hear you correctly?”
“Partner with you,” he quickly clarified. “I rue the day I was ever assigned to partner with you.”
“I rue it too,” she admitted honestly before turning from his captivating gray eyes. “Now, let us be off.”
The floor creaked loudly beneath his feet as Levi walked slowly down the hall. He held his breath, not wanting to inform whoever was there of his presence. Now and then he'd get a glimpse of the flickering light from the candle and have to adjust his direction.
At the end of the hall was a damaged staircase. Most of the steps were broken, while some were missing altogether, leaving gaping holes that exposed the ground below. Levi began making his way carefully down the stairs when he heard a loud creak of a door moving slowly on rusted hinges. Squatting down, he peered through a hole in the stairs towards the front of the warehouse. The front door, which appeared to be boarded up from the outside, was pulled wide open, silhouetting a large, dark figure holding the candle whose light he had seen. Levi tried to make out his features, but a breeze wafted in and quickly extinguished the tiny flame, leaving everything in darkness.
As soon as the door was securely shut, Levi knew he was alone. Feeling bolstered by this knowledge, he quickened his pace and hurried down the stairs and called out in a loud whisper, “Lydia? Are you here?”
His pleas were met with silence.
Feeling panic well up inside of him, Levi began running through the lower level of the building, opening every door he could find in hopes of discovering where Lydia could be hidden. As soon as he finished searching the far side, he jogged to the other end, and before he knew it, the rotted wood floor beneath him gave out, causing his foot to fall into a hole. He fell to the ground, catching his weight with his hands and cursed.
Pointing the toe of his boot down, he hoped to meet with a hard surface so he could propel himself up and out of the hole, but his foot met with something else entirely. A muffled squeak caused his heart to lurch.
“Lydia. Lydia, is that you?”
A muffled sob was the only response he got. Levi knew at once it was her. Bolstered by desperation, he twisted his leg painfully around and began tugging at the rotted floorboards. He'd never been so grateful for the training he'd received at Gentleman Jackson's than at that moment.
Soon, the hole was big enough to allow him access. He slid his body down into the opening and reached out until his hands found Lydia. She was curled into a ball and shivering. He pulled her small form, dressed in men's clothing, into his arms and brushed her black curls back from her face.
“Lydia, Lydia,” he cooed, “I'm here. I've found you.”
As soon as he brushed her hair back, he realized she had been gagged. Anger welled up anew as he worked to remove the cloth from her mouth.
“Who did this to you?”
With the gag removed, he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to reveal who'd done such an atrocious thing, but her lower lip started trembling, and loud sobs began escaping her throat. Sorrow at the pitiful sight nearly broke his heart in two. He pulled her to his chest and rocked her back and forth in his arms as he petted her hair in an attempt to calm h
er.
“My love, you are safe now. I will protect you. Nothing can happen to you now.”
When her sobs finally subsided, turning into loud sniffles instead, she managed to squeak out, “He's evil.”
“Who's evil, sweetheart? Tell me who has done this to you.” Levi felt an urgency to know, if only so he could kill the man.
Her lower lip trembled pathetically as she glanced into his eyes for the first time since he'd found her. “My father.”
“Your father?” he asked, reeling back in complete shock. “Are you certain?”
“Of course I am.”
“But why? I don't understand.”
Levi's mind was racing. Why would a father do something so horrendous to his own child? It was true he didn't harbor much respect for Lord Phelps, but even he couldn't fathom the pure evilness such a deed would require coming from the man.
“Oh, Levi. He's not the man everyone thinks him to be.”
Levi pondered on her statement for a moment. Lord Phelps did have a penchant for gambling late into the night, a vice that wasn't particularly uncommon among members of the ton, but that didn't make him evil.
Lydia interrupted his musings, “I discovered some things about his pastimes of recent and he was not pleased.”
“What sort of pastimes?” he asked, apprehensively.
Lydia's eyes fluttered closed against the horrors she was about to divulge. “He's one of Lord Whitworth's biggest patrons.”
“Patrons of what? His boxing?”
She waved her hand in front of his face. “Not boxing. Whoring. Lord Whitworth sells girls, children really, to eager men of the ton. My father apparently is one of his best clients. They have Miss Betterdon, Levi. She didn't run away. Lord Whitworth abducted her to sell to my father for his own pleasure.”
Bile rose in Levi's throat. He'd heard of Miss Betterdon's disappearance. He'd also heard of men participating in such sickening things, but had never known of anyone personally who partook of such depravity. Or so he thought.
“How'd you know? Are you certain?”
“Please don't ask me to divulge how I know. It's truly horrible, just trust me when I say that it's true. We have to help Miss Betterdon.”
Levi shook his head vigorously. “As soon as I save you, I will do what I can. But first, tell me why he brought you here? What is his purpose for locking you up in an abandoned warehouse?”
“He found out I had discovered his secret and sent a man to abduct me. The man said it was time I learned a lesson,” she said with a hint of irony.
Levi hung his head in shame. Hadn't he tried to teach Lydia lessons of his own in much the same way, by exhibiting force and trying to bend her to his will?
His voice was barely above a whisper as he begged, “Lydia, please forgive me.”
“For what?” she asked in surprise.
A loud banging sound intruded upon their conversation before he could answer. Lydia looked up at him nervously. “What is that?” She began shaking once more. “Do you think my father has come?”
Wrapping his body tightly around her, he lowered them to the floor and whispered in her ear. “Hold still, my love, and be quiet. Perhaps it's just an intruder looking for a dry place to sleep for the night.”
“But what if it's not?”
“I will protect you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I swear.”
Sophia was impressed. Lord Coldwell had just kicked in the door of the warehouse, knocking it wide open. For the moment, she was grateful he had come. Her strength would never have been great enough to get her inside.
The pair entered the dark building, walking stealthily around the perimeter, both of them tightly gripping their pistols.
“It smells like death in here,” Lord Coldwell grumbled as he reached for his handkerchief and held it to his nose.
Sophia's eyes widened. “Do you think there's a dead body in here?”
“Most definitely, though I'm uncertain whether it belongs to a human or an animal.”
“How revolting,” she exclaimed in a loud whisper, shuddering while she did so.
“You're in the wrong profession if your sensibilities are so easily offended.”
Sophia rolled her eyes but knew he couldn't even see it in the dark. She followed him down a long hall, pausing long enough to pull each door open to see what was hiding behind it. They investigated several rooms but found nothing but filth and a few dead mice.
Lord Coldwell was about to open the last door at the end of the hallway when a loud voice startled them both.
“Where is she?”
“Don't worry. I have her bound and hidden.”
“Is she frightened?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Show me where she is.”
Before Sophia had a chance to turn and see who had entered the warehouse, Lord Coldwell yanked the final door open and deftly pulled her inside. The two were crammed together in a tight closet, Lord Coldwell's tall frame taking up most of the space.
His hand went up and cupped her mouth to keep her silent as he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Lord Phelps is here. I recognize his voice. Miss Phelps must be here too.” Sophia nodded and tried to pull his hand free from her mouth, but he just tightened his grip and continued, “We will help her, but we must be patient.”
Sophia groaned. She felt Lord Coldwell smile against her ear. “I know, little lamb, patience is not your strong suit. But trust me on this one.”
Seeing as how he was holding her hostage in a tight closet, it appeared she had no other option.
Levi anxiously listened as footsteps went in the opposite direction of where they were hiding. He knew he had to act fast if he wanted to keep his promise to Lydia and keep her safe.
“Keep quiet and trust me,” he whispered before holding her tightly and slowly rising.
Using all the strength he possessed, he lifted her up out of the hole in the floor and made certain she was steady on her feet before holding his finger to his lips to signal her to be quiet. Once he pulled himself out of the pit, he gathered Lydia into his arms, cradling her like a baby, and began slowly walking towards the stairs, careful not to step on anymore rotten floorboards.
His heart was beating rapidly when they finally arrived at the second story and entered the room that had given him access to the warehouse. Hurrying to the window, he let Lydia slip from his arms and said, “We must escape through the window.”
She bent over and glanced out the window and then back at him and whispered, “Am I supposed to jump?”
Her brave question caught him off guard. For a moment he could only stare at her tear streaked face in awe. Cupping her face in his palms, he pulled her face close to his. “I love you, Lydia,” he laughed then planted a firm kiss on her forehead.
Before she could answer, he slid his arms around her waist and instructed, “I'm going to lower you to those crates below. Be careful; they're not the most sturdy. Once I'm down, we will make a run for my carriage.” With a small smile on his face, he added, “For once I'm grateful you are dressed as a boy. It will make escaping through the window easier.”
She nodded her head before he clasped her tightly and hefted her over the sill, careful to not scrap her body against the broken glass. It was easier for her to fit than it was for him. Levi watched as she stumbled slightly on the crates but caught her balance before she fell. Once she'd climbed safely to the ground, he slid from the window and jumped onto the crates then straight to the ground. Grabbing Lydia by the hand, he took off running down the street towards his carriage.
He had no time to answer the question that was written all over his servant's faces when they arrived at the waiting carriage. Instead, he pulled Lydia inside and tapped loudly on the roof and shouted, “Take us to the Marquess of Emberson's townhouse at once.”
They lurched forward, throwing them both back into the seat. Levi's arm went around Lydia's shoulders to steady her. “Everything is going to be f
ine now,” he assured her.
Lydia turned in his arms and looked up at his face. “No, it's not. Don't you understand? I can't go back home. There's no telling what my father will do.”
“Sweetheart, I have no intention of letting your father get away with what he has done. I will go speak to the authorities tonight.”
Lydia's eyes widened, and she began shaking her head. “And what of my mother? How will she ever bare the scandal that will result when my father's actions are made public? Oh, Levi, everything is such a muddle.”
“Yes, it is. But one thing is certain, Lydia, I will never release you to your father's care again.”
Lydia's eyes turned sad before she hung her head against her chest. “Lord Whitworth isn't a better option. I'd rather die than become his wife.”
“You think I'd release you to that fool? No, Lydia,” he hissed, cupping her chin in his hand and forcing her to look into his eyes. “I've made a plethora of mistakes during our courtship and—?
She cut him off with a mirthless laugh. “You've never courted me.”
“Regardless of the many mistakes I've made where you're concerned, tonight I have decided that I'm done messing up.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked apprehensively.
Levi pulled Lydia into his lap and rested his chin atop her head. “I'm going to place you in Alexandra's care while I go speak to the authorities about both your father and Lord Whitworth. They will know what to do to help Miss Betterdon. Then, I'm taking you to Gretna Green where I'm going to marry you, so I can protect you for the rest of your life.”
Lydia let out a sob as she slid her hands beneath his coat and around his waist. Her hand brushed against his cut, and he cringed. Pulling her hand back sharply, she held it up, revealing blood on her fingertips.
“Levi!” she exclaimed. “What happened?” Her nimble fingers pawed at his coat, lifting the hem of his shirt up so she could inspect his wounded side.
Levi closed his eyes as she gingerly touched him. It didn't matter that he was injured, all that mattered was that she was touching his bare skin, causing it to burn.
The Duke's Dastardly Mistake (Unlikely Pairs Book 2) Page 13
