To Love the Brooding Baron

TWENTY-NINE

TWENTY-NINE

“We shouldn’t be doin’ this, miss,” Hattie said from inside the darkened carriage outside the new Bedlam. Her voice was uneasy, her grip on Arabella’s hands tense.

“Yes, well, many people throughout history have done things they probably should not have,” Arabella managed to say with some degree of normalcy, though her heart pounded in her chest.

The sound of approaching voices outside silenced them. Arabella recognized Hattie’s brother, Jim, the groomsman who’d taken her to Brooks’s. He was talking to someone, though they were too far away to make out any words.

Hattie’s hand remained firmly clenched in hers as they waited, and Arabella thanked the heavens for such a friend.

“You remember what to do with the letters?” Arabella whispered, needing to fill the silence.

“Yes, miss. My brother will get yer letter to Lord Northcott, and I’ll give the second to yer mother.”

“Good,” she said. The guilt for the worry she was about to inflict on her mother—and on Hattie—sat like a boulder atop her chest. “And after, you are not, under any circumstance, allowed to let my mother dismiss you. I have explained my actions in the letter and how you and your brother are in no way responsible.”

“Yes, miss.” Hattie didn’t sound confident in the plan, but Arabella chose to believe her mother would forgive Hattie and Jim for their part in it.

The male voices ceased, and a few moments later, the carriage door opened. Arabella and Hattie jumped.

“They’ll take ye, miss,” Jim whispered. “But he says the doc won’t do it for less than fifty pounds.”

Arabella swallowed. She’d foolishly hoped it wouldn’t come to that amount. Fifty pounds was all she’d found inside Emerson’s desk; she would have to thank Mr. Bradbury later for showing her where her brother kept the additional monies.

She handed the banknotes to Jim while Hattie started to needlessly fidget with Arabella’s disguise. Arabella had thought it best to arrive in a dressing gown to give the impression that her family had suddenly decided to be rid of her and would pay to do so.

Hattie had used white powder to give Arabella’s complexion a more ghostly finish and had rubbed soot around her eyes to make them look tired and sunken. Next was her brown traveling cloak; the hood would keep her face hidden until she got inside.

She just had to get inside and then find her way to where the patients were kept and then locate Henry’s sister—whom she’d never met.

She quoted Shakespeare’s Merry Wives of Windsor to herself— Good luck lies in odd numbers—and then took a deep breath. She’d take it one step at a time. It was the only option, other than panic.

“Be careful, miss,” Hattie said, sniffling.

Arabella fought back her own tears and patted Hattie’s hand, balled tightly in her lap. “I shall be back before you know it,” she said, praying her words would be true.

What she was about to do was beyond reckless. If she were found out, more than just her reputation would be ruined. But she had to do this. Love was worth every risk.

Scooting to the carriage door, she took a deep breath and yelled out into the night, “No! No, I will not go!”

Hattie and Jim moved into action, pretending to struggle in removing her from the carriage.

“Come now, miss. ’Tis our stop,” Hattie said in a coddling but forceful tone that was worthy of any stage.

Arabella continued to thrash about, grunting against their fake protestations. The plan was to make her wild nature convincing for any observer, but before she could step down from the carriage, the man from Bedlam shoved Jim out of the way, clamped two burly hands around Arabella’s waist, and tore her free from the carriage.

She screamed against the rush of pain to her ribs, then again as her feet hit the ground. Fear clutched at her insides, and she briefly closed her eyes to block out what was happening.

“We’ll take it from here,” another man said, walking up to them. He grabbed her by the arm, and she cried out from his hard grip.

Out of instinct to survive, Arabella fought to be free herself, but their hold only intensified.

“Let go of her,” Jim protested, moving toward them.

But Arabella couldn’t allow him to take her back. She needed to get inside.

With all the strength she could muster, she threw her head back and her legs up into the air. “Let me go! Let me go!” she yelled, shaking her head, hoping to deter Jim from trying to rescue her. Her response caught one of the two men off guard, and he stumbled to collect his footing.

His reaction was harsh and quick. Grabbing the hood of her cloak, he twisted the material around his fist and shook her viciously. She heard the crack of her teeth as her mouth clattered open and shut.

“That’s what we do with animals,” he hissed in her ear.

Terror turned Arabella’s insides to ice, and her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. If Hattie and Jim hadn’t been watching, she would’ve crumpled to the ground. But she’d talked them into this. She had to leave them with the belief that they hadn’t made a terrible mistake.

Tears stained Hattie’s cheeks, and Jim looked as if he was a hair’s breadth away from ignoring her orders and taking her home.

Arabella wanted to go home; this was turning out to be much more frightening than she imagined. But she had to do this for Henry and his sister.

She knew Henry loved her. He would come for her.