When Love Sneaks In (The Montgomery Family & Friends Book 2)

by Vikki Vaught

  Bernard was becoming a little careless when he brought her food and was not closing the door while inside the room. If she could find something to knock him out, perhaps she could get away before anyone discovered her gone.

  The next day, when Bernard came to deliver her food, he was called away. When he left the room, he forgot to lock the door. Helen sneaked out and found the stairwell. She hurried down the stairs and was getting ready to open the outside door when a pair of hairy arms reached from behind and pulled her back. Bernard cuffed her on the chin, and then she knew…no more.

  When Helen regained her wits, she was in the room and tied to the bed. Madame stood, glaring at her. She raised her arm and slapped her with so much force Helen’s lip split open. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

  “I told you not to attempt an escape; now you’ll face the consequences,” she sneered.

  Madame picked up a whip from the table and moved to the bed.

  Fear clawed at her throat.

  Her breath came out in pants as she tried to control her emotions.

  The Madame’s raspy voice growled, “Bernard. Place her on her stomach, then retie her to the bed.”

  The brute came toward her leering as he grabbed her arms and untied them. Helen fought to sit up. The brute was too strong. He rubbed his body against her as he untied her bare feet. Then he flipped her over, and before she could react, he had retied her to the bed. Sprawled across the covers, she waited for the first lash.

  The Madame swung the whip and Helen heard it swish as it tore into her flesh. The lashes cut into her buttocks. She tried to remain silent, but the pain became too much, and after the third lash, she cried out. The evil woman hit her over and over again until she lost count. Eventually, she slipped into oblivion.

  When Helen awoke, her back burned like the fires of hell. An elderly woman was smearing a pungent salve over her back, buttocks, and upper thighs. The smell gagged her, and she fought the urge to throw up. She was naked and still strapped to the bed. Bernard leaned against the wall making more of his lewd comments and cackling gleefully at her predicament. Once the woman finished spreading the ointment, her wounds did not burn as badly.

  The old woman’s eyes softened. “Ye’ll ’ave t’ lie on yer stomuck. I’ll return tomorrow t’ put more salve on ye. It’ll take th’ sting away. The lashes ain’t deep so they shouldn’t leave scars. I’ll leave ye fer now.”

  Helen watched her depart. Bernard walked to the bed, and leaned down. As he reached around her, he grabbed her breast and gave it a hard pinch. “Ye ’aven’t ’ad all o’ yer punishment yet. I gets t’ ’ave a go at ye, once Madame says ye’re ’ealed. I’ll show ye ’ow a real man swives. I’ll plow ye so ’ard and so deep ye’ll wish ye’d never been born, and when I’m through…I’ll do ye again and again, till ye scream and plead fer mercy.”

  Tears coursed down her cheeks, and her body quaked. She did not want to give up hope, but things were looking bad. At this point, death was preferable to what Bernard had in store for her.

  They untied her from the bed twice a day to allow her time to take care of her personal needs. However, she had to use the chamber pot while Bernard watched. He would give her an evil grin, reminding her of what was to come. She thought she’d faced the worst humiliation when Madame examined her…having Bernard watch as she relieved herself was worse.

  * * * *

  A fortnight had passed since Helen was taken. They were no closer to finding her now than when Matthew learned she’d been taken to a brothel in London. Sanderford treated him with disdain. Melody turned away and refused to look at him. He could not blame her. Kathryn burst into tears every time she saw him. The only one who still spoke to him was Peter.

  He did not know how he could have stood it without him. He was amazed at the level of maturity in the young man. He considered moving to his townhouse, but if he left, Sanderford would not tell him of any progress he made. And anyway, he looked at all this as a form of punishment for what had befallen his wife.

  The Bow Street Runner, Mr. Livingston, had gone to Devonshire to speak to Cecilia and see if he could make her talk. Matthew would have liked to go with him, so he could force her to confess and then wring her neck. Of course, he could not leave in case they found Helen. As each day passed, his despondency grew. He feared that when they did find her, it would be too late. The damage would have already been done.

  His dreams were filled with images of Helen being violated by dozens of men. He would awaken bathed in sweat with his heart pounding so hard he feared it would break through his chest.

  Every night, he dressed in his evening attire and roamed all the brothels he could find, but there was no sign of Helen. Sanderford had paid out several significant bribes, hoping someone would give him information. Thus far, nothing had turned up.

  Guilt ate at him when he saw the prostitutes. He’d used their services in the past, never realizing many of them may not have chosen that life, but had been forced into it. Perhaps in similar situations as his wife’s.

  Another week passed, and Helen had been lost to him for over three weeks now. They still did not have any new leads. The Bow Street Runner had not returned from Devonshire. Now they had started checking some of the lesser-known brothels in Seven Dials, and even St. Giles.

  His stomach twisted at the thought of Helen in one those establishments. The worst rakes frequented them, men who liked it rough, not to mention the possibility of disease. It looked more doubtful by the day that they would find her unharmed, if they found her at all.

  They were returning to Madame Lucille’s Gallery tonight. Sanderford had a strong feeling. The duke had offered a large bribe to the door attendant. The man said Madame had a new star in her Gallery, and she would be presenting her in a few days at an auction. Her new star would go to the highest bidder, and the bidding was supposed to be fierce. Matthew tried to remain optimistic, although he had a difficult time believing in a positive outcome.

  When they returned to Madame Lucille’s, the doorman did not have any new information. They had no choice but to wait until Madame presented her. He wanted to believe this woman was his wife, because then, there was a possibility she had not been violated yet. Although there was no way to be sure it was her, it was worth being there, in case. And of course, it was the only lead they had.

  Matthew received word from Wells telling him his sons were recovering and had even gained weight. Every time he thought of them, his heart seized. Helen must be out of her mind with worry over them.

  Oh, God, please keep her safe until I can find her.

  If Cecilia was the culprit behind her abduction, he would make sure she paid for hurting his family.

  CHAPTER 26

  The kind, elderly woman assured Helen her back and buttocks were healing and there would be no scarring. She’d overheard Madame talking to Bernard, and she would be the star attraction at an auction.

  Rape.

  If I can’t escape, I’ll be raped.

  Defiled in a most heinous manner.

  She had to find a way to escape before the auction.

  Bernard returned to the room, grinning. “Ye’re in fer a treat. In two days, t’ th’ ’ighest bidder can have ye, and they’ll plow ye all night long. After they’re through, I get a go at ye. Ye’ll ’ave a long night, so ye might want t’ get plenty o’ sleep. Let me show ye what I ’ave in store, fer ye.”

  Bernard moved to the bed and rubbed his dirty paws over her naked back and buttocks. Then he reached around and pinched her nipple hard, giving it a painful twist. While he touched her, he reached inside his trousers. The man’s enormous shaft racketed her fear to an entirely new level.

  Tear stung the back of her eyes.

  Her pulse raced.

  Oh, Lord, help me!

  The brutal man rubbed his member against her face, trying to force her to take him inside her mouth. She jerked her head away. The smell overpowered
her. Her stomach turned. Grabbing her head, he rammed his shaft against her tightly clenched lips.

  The door slammed open, and Madame strode into the room. “What the hell are you doing? You weren’t to touch her until after the auction. If I catch you messing with her again, you’ll live to regret it. Cover your cock, you great, ugly brute.”

  Madame sent him from the room, then untied her. She ordered, “Roll over and spread your legs.” Helen did not want to do it, but if she refused, Madame would have Bernard hold her down.

  Before she could catch her breath, the woman pushed her fingers inside and felt around.

  Her skin crawled.

  Her belly cramped.

  The vile woman stroked her secret spot after she removed her fingers. “Ah, such a pretty, tight little twat, the men’ll love you. You’ll bring in some much-needed funds. You’re healed. Enjoy the next two days, because after that, you’ll be spreading these pretty pink thighs every night. I’ll leave you now to contemplate what is to come.”

  Helen would never survive what they had planned. Her only hope was the old woman who treated her. She would beg her to take word to Henry. The last few times she’d treated her, Bernard had left her alone with her.

  That evening, when the old woman came, Bernard left the room. She took her chance. “Ma’am, I desperately need your help. Please go to my brother, the Duke of Sanderford. He’ll pay you well. Tell him I’m to be auctioned off in two days. Please, I beg you, go to him.”

  The old woman’s eyes darted toward the door. “I’m Ole Maude, and I’ll go t’ ’im th’ day after tomorrow. Ye promise ’e’ll pay me good?”

  Tears of relief flooded her eyes. “Oh, thank you, tell him I want him to give you twenty pounds. Tell him Helen sent you. I promise he’ll give you the gold.”

  “Cor,” Old Maude exclaimed. “Twenty pounds, I ain’t never got so much coin afore. I promise I’ll go as soon as I can get there.”

  Old Maude finished rubbing in the salve, and as she turned to leave, she gave her a toothless grin and a wink. Bernard returned a few minutes later with her evening meal. For the first time since she’d arrived at the brothel, she enjoyed her food. She had hopes that soon this horrific ordeal would end.

  That night she slept without any nightmares and awoke refreshed. Since Old Maude had agreed to help, Henry—and hopefully her husband—would save her. Helen prayed she would go to her brother early, so he could come for her right away.

  * * * *

  On the morning of the auction, Matthew and his brother-in-law were finalizing their plans when Simpson entered the study. “Excuse me, Your Grace. A woman is asking to see you. She says she has information regarding Lady Helen. Do you want to see her?”

  His heart rose in his throat as he met the duke’s gaze. Sanderford ordered, “Take us to this woman now.”

  They followed Simpson to the rear of the house where they found a woman in a tattered gown hunched over from age. While he prayed this individual had information they could use, he was skeptical. At this point, he was willing to reserve judgment.

  Helen’s brother stepped toward her. “I’m the Duke of Sanderford. What information do you have concerning Lady Helen?”

  The old woman twisted her hands. “Yer Grace, I’m Ole Maude. Yer sister, tol’ me t’ come t’ ye, that ye would give me twenty pounds, cuz I knows where she be. She’s at Madame Lucille’s, and she’s goin’ t’ be auctioned off t’night.”

  Matthew and Sanderford glanced at each other as the duke asked, “How is my sister? Has she been hurt?”

  “She was beat pretty bad. I been treatin’ ’er back, an’ it’s ’ealing real good,” she confirmed. “I’ve been rubbin’ salve on it ever’ day. She needs ye t’ come get ’er. Can I ’ave them coins she promised?”

  “My good woman, if Lady Helen is indeed at Madame Lucille’s and we rescue her, I’ll not only give you the coins, I shall send you to my estate and give you your own cottage with a pension for the rest of your life.”

  “Blimey, I never ’spected nothin’ like that. I promise ye she’s there, and I thank ye kindly, Yer Grace.” The old woman tried to curtsey, but started to fall forward. Matthew grabbed her arm to steady her.

  Sanderford handed the woman the coins and turned to Simpson. “Take Old Maude to the kitchen and make sure she’s given something to eat.”

  “Certainly, Your Grace.” Turning to the woman, Simpson said, “Please, follow me, ma’am.” And she toddled after the butler and into the kitchen.

  He exhaled the breath he did not even know he was holding as energy surged through him. His knees shook so badly, he was afraid he would collapse. Helen was alive, and she had not been violated yet.

  He turned to Sanderford. “Let us go to my wife right now.”

  Sanderford looked over at him; derision glared in his eyes. “We need to keep with our original plan, you hothead. We can’t go there and demand they turn my sister over to us. They’ll deny she’s there, and then they would refuse to admit us tonight. I’ll do the bidding for Helen, and by God, I will get her back.”

  Matthew paced back and forth as he reined in his anger. “Why can’t I do the bidding? She’s my wife. Regardless of your feelings towards me, I’m still her husband and will be for the rest of her life. Whether you believe it or not, I love my wife, and it’s my right to be the one.”

  Sanderford cocked his brow. “You can’t bid high enough, and since I’m a duke, fewer will oppose me. I’m not worried over the cost, but it will go better if I do the bidding. I understand you love my sister; that isn’t in question. But, does she love you, and will she want to stay with you when she discovers your former mistress was behind her ghastly ordeal?”

  Dammit! Sanderford was right. Since he was a duke, fewer men would bid if they thought he wanted Helen. For her sake, he hoped no one would recognize her. It would be her ruination if the ton ever learned of her time in a brothel. His wife would be devastated if she were ostracized by society.

  His stomach churned. Helen had never told him she loved him. She would have every right to hate him since it was his fault she was in this horrendous situation. He prayed the old woman was right, and she had not been violated. He would love her no matter what, but it would make it much harder for her to recover if she’d been raped.

  * * * *

  Helen prayed Old Maude would go to her brother. She had not talked to her yesterday, because Bernard stayed in the room each time she came. Her back was virtually healed, and so she was not surprised when the woman did not return that morning. Thank goodness, Bernard had not tied her to the bed after he left her morning meal.

  Although the room was small she managed to pace back and forth as she waited to see if her brother, or better yet, her husband would come. Minute by minute dragged as she sent a litany of prayers to God. Tied of pacing, she sat on the side of the bed. Her nerves were wound so tight, she kept tapping her bare foot against the scuffed hardwood floor.

  That afternoon, servants filled a tub. It was the first bath she’d had since the day she’d arrived. She wished she could bathe in solitude, but she was not given a choice. Bernard stood guarding the door with a sneer on his ugly face.

  Madame entered. “Scrub yourself with this sponge, and make sure you wash your hair. You’re making your debut tonight, and we want you to look your best. After all, the most influential men in England will be in attendance. The betting books are filled with wagers wondering who will win the pleasure of being with my new star. Now, hurry. When you’re through, Marie will fix your face.”

  The heavily perfumed soap almost turned her stomach. Once she finished bathing, the maid handed her a silk robe. Then that hateful woman demanded she sit at the dressing table.

  Marie smeared kohl around her eyes, dabbed rice powder on her face and rouge on her cheeks, then added red salve to her lips. Madame demanded she remove her robe.

  The detestable woman dipped her finger in the rouge and applied it to Helen’s nipples. She want
ed to slap her hand away, but it would only bode ill for her.

  Madame patted her stomach. “Ah, yes, you have very fine skin. Your belly is back to normal, just slightly rounded, yet firm, and you have very few stretch marks. Very good. You will enrich my coffers tonight.”

  She shuddered, as she envisioned what would occur in a few hours.

  Oh, Lord, please let Henry and Matthew save me.

  When Helen saw her reflection, she cringed at her garish appearance. She hoped they would recognize her if—no when—they came tonight. She refused to contemplate any other outcome.

  The dress had such a low décolleté her areolas showed. The deep, ruby red taffeta clashed horribly with her hair. The gown was poorly made. Obviously, it was designed to entice men, since it clung to her curves, and the bodice was only lace with transparent silk lining it.

  Madame handed her a glass of red wine. “Drink it all.”

  It probably had something in it, but if she did not drink it voluntarily, it would be forced down her throat. Once she finished the wine, her cheeks grew warm. Her nether region began to throb, and her nipples grew taut. What could have possibly been in it to cause such a reaction?

  Madame smiled knowingly at her. “Ah…I see you’re very sensitive to the aphrodisiac in the wine. By the time the auction is over, you’ll be so sexually aroused you’ll respond passionately to whomever wins the bid.”

  Oh, God, please help me.

  “Bernard will bring you downstairs when it’s your turn,” Madame continued, “I’ve worked hard to build anticipation, and if anyone gets a peek at you beforehand, it could keep me from making as much. You should be pleased I chose to auction you. Your first time will be with a peer of the realm, and that is to your advantage. Perhaps you may attract a protector willing to pay a great deal to have exclusive rights to your person.” As Madame turned to leave the room, she told Bernard, “I haven’t forgotten my promise. Once the gentleman who wins her is through, you will have your turn.”