Chapter 4 #2
Granted, not all her suitors were horrid. But while she could never wish to saddle herself with the bad ones, she also didn’t have the heart to saddle the good ones with her. Men wanted wives who would add to their consequence, not drag them down to her troubles.
And troubles she had plenty.
“There you are!” A loud, unwelcome male voice boomed, the side door slamming shut behind its bearer. Adelaide jumped to her feet in alarm.
She ought to have known that her reprieve couldn’t last.
“You have promised me the next set,” said Mr. Bamburst loudly, having no care whatsoever who overheard him.
Adelaide swallowed. “I do not think I did, sir.”
“Nonsense.” He marched down the few steps that led from the door to the garden.
His large body appeared far more sinister in the darkness than it did in the ballroom.
Adelaide recoiled, but still he pressed closer.
The thought of sneaking away for a few short moments suddenly felt incredibly foolish.
“Given how much I have promised that aunt of yours, all your sets should be mine hereinafter.”
Adelaide’s heart dropped to her stomach. “I fail to understand you, sir. There has been no agreement—”
“Agreements, ha.” He grabbed her by the arm. Adelaide cried out at the pain, then grimaced at the smell of heavy drink. “Did you and that scheming aunt of yours believe that I would continue to cast my jewels and wine at her feet without something in return? More fool you, if that were the case.”
Jewels and wine—is that why Aunt Dinah had been stringing along all the suitors, encouraging each one as if he were the one destined for Adelaide’s hand? The bile climbed up her throat. Her heart raced.
“I was willing to wait for you—give you another year to fill out those limbs with some proper curves.” His grip tightened even more, his fingers digging into Adelaide’s flesh. “Looks like I need to claim my goods before I am conned.”
“Mr. Bamburst, there must be some misunderstanding. I have not promised—”
He shoved a harsh, angry mouth against hers before she could properly scream.
Coming to the assembly had been a mistake.
There were precious few people in the rowdy crowd that Richard wished to associate with, and he hadn’t managed to even secure one dance with Adelaide Pershing thus far.
He was fairly certain that she would agree if he’d asked, of course, but one needed the opportunity to present the offer before such a thing could happen.
So instead of leading the young lady he’d come to see in a good country dance or two, he’d found himself wandering the sides of the room, alternately avoiding drunken men or cloying young widows, all intrigued by his status as a colonel.
He’d once thought the flippancy and superficiality of London’s upper crust nauseating. As it turned out, the aimless indulgence and vulgarity of their lower-class counterparts were little better.
Richard checked his pocket watch and sighed.
Should he pay his respects and return to Avington House early?
As evening entertainments went, it was perhaps a trifle depressing to spend yet another night alone with his nightmares.
But there was little cause for him to remain if Miss Pershing’s attentions were to be otherwise occupied the entire time.
With a resigned sigh, he turned his path towards the spot where he’d first found Miss Ravenstone and Miss Pershing—only to see the older woman deep in conference with the looming Mr. Bamburst. Richard paused, a sense of unease settling in his stomach.
The two individuals for whom he possessed little admiration, and barely any respect, frowned together and made gestures towards the darker side of the assembly room.
A quick glance that direction provided a quick glimpse of gold, almost like the fleeting sparks in one’s eyes after the forceful shock of a nearby cannonball.
Richard blinked. If that was Adelaide, then she’d managed to evade him entirely. Did she even want him here?
A moment of pondering brought about an even more unwelcome sight—that of Mr. Bamburst, huffing and puffing, stomping his way from the back of the large hall to the side of it.
His girth had him shoving against other attendees left and right, but the man seemed determined to clear his path towards whatever his goal was.
Richard glanced back at Miss Ravenstone. Her lips were pursed, but her gaze appeared firm—almost determined—and trained on Mr. Bamburst’s back.
There was no question she was party to whatever the man was planning, and Richard wouldn’t be surprised if he were acting at her behest altogether.
By the time he refocused on Mr. Bamburst, the latter had his hand on a door that Richard had not noticed prior.
The old man flung the door open with effort and waddled outside.
Richard’s chest tightened. A man didn’t survive years on the battlefield without developing a keen sense of danger, of the ability to detect the stirrings of an ambush long before it was sprung.
With his unease morphing into dread, Richard stalked across the assembly room, cursing himself the entire way for not having stayed nearby.
Had he really lost so much of his social grace that a mere snub from a young lady was enough to deplete his chivalry?
If Adelaide needed him, then he was determined to be of service.
It didn’t matter if she said so. It didn’t matter if he was playing right into her avaricious aunt’s schemes.
Adelaide mattered. Her welfare mattered.
That ought to be enough to keep Richard alert and at her service.
After far too many strides, Richard finally reached the other end of the assembly room. The old, hidden side door remained unlocked, and he made much quicker work of it than Mr. Bamburst did.
A muted scream and the sounds of struggle reached him immediately. Richard’s heartbeat thudded in his ears, and he willed his eyes to adjust faster to the darkness. His ears chased the sound, followed by his feet.
“Adelaide!” he shouted as he approached the scene of the struggle. Mr. Bamburst, while sporting more girth than muscle, was nevertheless a large enough man to have every physical advantage on his side.
But Richard was a soldier, and despite not having his musket, pistols, or sword with him, he instinctively employed the strength of his shoulders at just the right angle to throw the large man away from the lady he was assaulting.
Mr. Bamburst, cursing, tumbled to the ground, a sprawl of flesh and limbs, and Richard tugged Adelaide Pershing straight into his arms.