Chapter 2 #2
Louise shot to her feet, panic replacing her momentary calm. “No! You can’t. If Bragg thinks I’ve failed …”
“Bragg will think exactly what I want him to think.” Aaron caught her arm gently but firmly. “But we’re not playing his game, Lady Louise. We’re leaving through the back entrance, and you’re going to tell me everything on the way to your home.”
“You’re kidnapping me?”
“Don’t be dramatic. I’m extricating you from a situation you should never have been placed in.” He guided her toward the door. “Besides, you’re the one who attempted to swindle me, if we’re being technical about crimes.”
She tried to pull free, but his grip, while gentle, was implacable. “You don’t understand. He has men watching. If he sees us leave—”
“Then it’s fortunate I know this building better than he does.” Aaron led her not toward the main stairs but through a narrow servants’ corridor. “There are advantages to having friends in the staff.”
They emerged into an alley where Aaron’s carriage waited, his driver alert despite the late hour. Aaron helped Louise inside, then gave sharp instructions to the driver before joining her.
The carriage lurched into motion. Louise pressed herself into the far corner, as far away from him as space allowed.
“You’re making a terrible mistake.” Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat. “Bragg doesn’t seem like he forgives betrayal.”
Aaron stretched his long legs, taking up more than his share of the seat. “Bragg is a parasite who preys on the desperate. It’s time someone reminded him that not everyone can be bought or bullied.”
“How wonderfully heroic of you.” The words came out sharper than she intended. “The great Duke of Calborough, saving damsels whether they want it or not.”
“You’d prefer I left you to complete your seduction? By all means, we can turn around. I should warn you that your technique needs considerable work.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “I would have managed.”
“Really?” Aaron shifted forward, closing the distance between them. “You couldn’t even pour a drink without your hands shaking. How exactly were you planning to manage the rest?”
Louise’s hands clenched in her lap. “I would have found a way. I had to find a way.” Her voice broke on the last word. “Oh God, Emily.”
Aaron’s expression shifted. “Who is Emily?”
“My sister. She’s six years old, and now Bragg will—” Louise pressed her palms against her eyes. “He said if I failed, he would take her to a workhouse or worse. I have to go back. Please, Your Grace, you have to turn the carriage around.”
“Sacrificing yourself isn’t the solution.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” The words exploded from her. “Let him take my little sister? Stand by while he destroys what little we have left?”
“You could have gone to the authorities.”
Her laugh was bitter and short. “With what proof? How delightfully na?ve you are, Your Grace.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened. “Na?ve? I just extracted you from a trap of your own making.”
“My own making?” She leaned forward, anger overcoming caution. “My brother’s debts are not of my making. His disappearance is not of my making. Being left alone with a child to protect and no money to do it with is not of my making!”
Aaron straightened, the raw emotion in her words and his guilt over accusing her unsettling him. He let out a long, quiet breath.
“Where are your parents?” he asked.
The abrupt question deflated some of her anger. “Dead. Mother seven years ago, Father three years past.”
“And your brother abandoned you to deal with his debts alone.”
Louise bristled. “George isn’t cruel. He’s just …”
“Irresponsible? Cowardly? Selfish?” he completed for her.
“Lost.” The word came out quieter than intended. “He’s been lost since our father died and left him with a title he never learned how to bear.”
Aaron shifted closer still, his presence filling the small space. “You defend him even now? After he left you to face men like Bragg alone?”
“He’s still my brother.”
“He’s a coward who deserves whatever trouble he’s found.”
Louise’s hand moved like a snake striking a mouse, aimed for his cheek. Aaron caught her wrist easily, his fingers warm against her racing pulse.
“Temper, temper.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “Although I admit you’re rather magnificent when angry.”
“Let go of me.”
“No.” He tugged gently, throwing her off balance, so she had to brace her free hand against his chest or fall into his lap. “Not until you admit the truth.”
“What truth?” Her voice cracked on the last word. “That I’ve failed? That my six-year-old sister will pay for my failure? Is that the truth you want to hear?”
Aaron felt the press of her palm through his waistcoat, noted the tremor that ran through her at the contact.
“That you’re relieved I intervened. That beneath all this righteous indignation, you’re grateful you don’t have to go through with Bragg’s scheme.”
Louise tried to pull back, but his grip remained firm. “Grateful? You think I’m grateful?” Her laugh held an edge of hysteria. “Bragg said he’d take Emily to a workhouse. Or worse. He made sure I understood exactly what ‘worse’ meant. So no, Your Grace, I’m not grateful. I’m terrified.”
“Men like Bragg always want more. One night would never have been enough. He would have asked more of you.”
“At least it would have bought me time. A day, a week, something.” Her free hand fisted in his waistcoat. “Now I have nothing. No time, no options, no way to protect her.”
Something in her voice shifted then, the sharp edge of fury giving way to something far more dangerous.
Desperation.
It coiled in his chest, tight and unwelcome. He had seen fear before, had heard women beg, bargain, lie.
This was different. This was a woman cornered with no shield left but her own body and the love she had for her sister, who depended on her.
The realization unsettled him. He had misjudged her, and the weight of that sat heavily between them in the cramped carriage. The space seemed to shrink, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and her quickened breath. He was suddenly, acutely aware of how close they were.
When he spoke again, his voice had lost its edge. “You’re not as alone as you think.”
Her laugh came sharp and disbelieving, but it faltered almost immediately. Louise tried to pull back, but his grip remained firm. “You’re insufferably arrogant.”
“And you’re a terrible liar.” His thumb traced the inside of her wrist, finding the point where her pulse hammered against thin skin. “Your body tells the truth even when your mouth won’t.”
“My body tells nothing.”
“Doesn’t it?”
He didn’t draw her closer yet. His gaze held hers, steady, assessing. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m allowed to be afraid,” she snapped. “You’ve taken everything out of my control.”
“I took you away from a dangerous situation that would have destroyed you.”
The carriage hit a rut, throwing Louise forward. Aaron’s free hand came up to steady her, fingers splaying across her waist. For a heartbeat, they stayed frozen, her lips so close to his she could feel his breath.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “This is a mistake.”
“Everything about tonight is a mistake.”
Yet she didn’t pull away.
The carriage turned sharply onto a quieter street, breaking the spell.
Aaron released her so abruptly she nearly fell back against the seat. He pressed himself into his own corner, jaw tight, willing his pulse to slow.
Fool.
He had nearly kissed her. Nearly compromised a vulnerable woman in his own carriage like some rutting schoolboy.
Louise straightened her skirts with trembling fingers, her gaze fixed firmly on the window. The gaslight caught the flush still staining her cheeks.
“You know where I live.” It wasn’t a question.
“I make it my business to know things. Particularly about men who owe money to criminals.” Aaron met her sharp glance without apology.
“Your brother approached me six months ago seeking investment in a shipping venture. I declined. The venture was obviously fraudulent, and George was obviously desperate. After that, I kept informed of his circumstances.”
“You investigated my family.”
“I investigated a poor investment risk. Your family happened to be attached.”
She turned back to the window, and he watched her shoulders stiffen as the houses grew shabbier.
The grand facades of Mayfair had given way to the respectable but faded gentility of Bloomsbury. He knew this route. Knew the address. Knew more about the Burrows family’s decline than Lady Louise would likely thank him for.
The carriage slowed as they turned onto her street. Aaron shifted forward, looking past her through the window, and his blood ran cold.
“Lady Louise.”
“What? That’s not … oh God.”
Sulton House’s front door hung open, light spilling onto the street. Even from here, he could hear sounds of distress from within.
He was out of the carriage before it fully stopped, Louise close behind despite his gesture for her to stay. The front door stood wide open, hanging at an odd angle as if forced.
Aaron entered first, his body tensing at what he found.
The entrance hall had been torn apart. Drawers pulled out, their contents scattered across the floor. A mirror lay shattered, its gilded frame cracked down the middle.
“Mrs. Fielding? Hartley?” Louise pushed past him.
Muffled sounds came from the parlor. Aaron moved swiftly toward the noise, Louise at his heels.
Their elderly butler sat slumped against the wall, blood trickling from a gash on his temple, just beginning to stir back to consciousness.
In the corner, the woman he assumed was Mrs. Fielding and two housemaids sat bound back-to-back with rope, fabric gags tied around their mouths.
Aaron pulled out his penknife, slicing through the bonds with quick, efficient strokes. The moment the gag fell away, Mrs. Fielding gasped.
“Men came, my lady. Three of them with pistols.” The housekeeper’s words tumbled out. “They locked Lady Emily in her room upstairs to keep her quiet. They said it’ll be the last time they’ll leave without her.”
The color drained from Louise’s face. “Emily!”
She was already running, her footsteps thundering up the stairs. From somewhere above, a small voice called out, muffled by a door.
“Louise? Louise, is that you?”
Aaron looked at the surrounding destruction. Everything of value had been taken or destroyed.
This wasn’t just theft. This was a message.
Bragg had made his move.
And now Aaron would make his.