Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Your Grace you must come!” Mr. Portnoy exclaimed, bursting into Algernon’s office without so much as a knock.
“Jesus, man what has gotten into you?” Algernon demanded shooting out of his chair.
“It is Lady Beatrice, Your Grace,” Mr. Portnoy hastily replied. “She needs assistance.”
Algernon tensed then shook his head.
“I am sure whatever issue has arisen for Lady Beatrice can be addressed by someone else,” he muttered, moving back into his chair. “What could possibly be so wrong? One of her dresses came back the wrong size? Her dance instructor stepped on her foot?”
He said the words bitterly, trying to use such simple reasons to feel annoyed at her. He had to be annoyed. If he was not annoyed, then he was curious, and if he was curious, he would give in to his desire to see her. If he saw her…
“No, Your Grace, it is nothing so simple,” Mr. Portnoy hastily replied, “There are three visitors downstairs. A gentleman and two ladies. They claimed to be friends of Lady Beatrice, but the man now has a hold of her and—”
Algernon heard nothing else as he shot out of his chair.
A strange ringing took over his ears as he raced down the hall and toward the stairs, a sense of urgency taking over his other need to stay away from Beatrice.
His thudding heart froze as he reached the landing of the stairs and saw the scene Mr. Portnoy described with his own eyes.
The man Beatrice had been sold by—the one she so bravely stood up to the night Algernon had purchased her at the auction—had his hands wound tight around Beatrice’s upper arms, a murderous look on his face as he gave her a great shake.
Even from where he stood, Algernon heard the snap of Beatrice’s teeth from the force of the shake, and his vision went red.
He did not know how got down the stairs so fast, nor did he know how got Beatrice untethered from the man’s grip. All he knew was that he was between them and suddenly had ahold of the man’s jacket.
“How dare you!” he seethed, giving the man a mighty shove, sending him sprawling backward into the ladies he was flanked by. “How dare you come into my home and accost this woman!”
The man’s glare immediately dissolved as he looked upon Algernon and quickly straightened himself, pulling away from the ladies that still looked at Algernon with an expression of terror.
“Your Grace,” the man gasped, “you do not understand. It is not what it looks like. She is my daughter, and I was only here to see of her well-being. I—-”
“Her well-being?” Algernon bellowed, taking a threatening step toward him. The man flinched.
“You sold her like chattel, you monster. You have no right to call yourself her father!”
A glare took over the man’s flushed face, and he gritted his teeth as he pointed over Algernon’s shoulder.
“I do not know what she has told you, but I assure it is not—”
“If you believe that I will take your word over hers, then you are as simple as you are monstrous, Sir!” Algernon snapped, catching hold of the man’s finger and bending it backward.
The man grunted in pain, his once proud stance buckling under Algernon’s pressure.
“You will leave my house at once,” he gritted out, bringing his face close to the man’s, so he was forced to look him in the eye. “If I catch you on my property or anywhere near her again, I shall break more than your finger.”
Before a breath could pass, he flicked his wrist, and a roar of pain escaped the man’s lips as his finger snapped in Algernon’s fist. Algernon shoved it away, disgusted that he’d even touched such a man, and took a step back.
“I said go!” he roared, even as the three of them were already stumbling backward toward the door.
His eyes did not leave them, not until the door was shut and they were gone, then he whirled on Beatrice. He met her eyes just as a heartbreaking sob left her throat, and she collapsed onto the stairs.
“No,” Algernon breathed, rushing to gather her in his arms.
He ignored the way his body sang with relief at touching her again, too worried for her to allow anything else.
“It’s all right,” he soothed, cradling her head to his chest as Beatrice wept. “It’s all right. I am here.”
“T-they w-wanted mm-more,” Beatrice sobbed.
“It does not matter,” he promised then dropped a kiss atop her head. “It does not matter what they wanted, do you hear me? They have no power over you anymore.”
“It was not me they wanted,” Beatrice whispered, her hands tightly wound around the front of his shirt. “It was you. They wanted to me to help convince you to marry Verity.”
Despite himself, despite what had just happened, Algernon barked out a bitter laugh as he held her closer.
“That will never happen, I promise you. I could not associate myself with such horrid creatures, let alone marry one.”
Algernon continued to hold Beatrice, letting her cry as he made soothing sounds and tenderly stroked along her back and hair. Eventually, her tears slowed, and she pulled back from him. At once, he pulled his kerchief from his pocket and began to clean her face for her.
“I do not understand this,” he confessed, careful as he dabbed her tears away. “I wore a mask at the auction. How did they discover who I was?”
Beatrice sniffled, a little more composed than before.
“Fath—” She paused, and for a moment, she looked as if she was about to start weeping once again. Then a look of determination came over her beautiful face, and she cleared her throat.
“Simeon,” she said with more force this time, “said he heard a rumor that a distant cousin of ours with my name had come to London and was staying with you, boasting of being wealthier than he.”
Guilt tore through Algernon’s chest. It was his fault she had been found.
“Oh, Beatrice,” he whispered, “this is my fault. I am so sorry. I just wanted a cover story for your sudden appearance in society. I never thought it would get back to him.”
Beatrice shook her head as she gently pressed away from him.
“It is all right,” she said, sniffling. “It actually sounds quite nice. To be so independent and wealthy as the woman you spoke of.”
Algernon dared a small smile.
“If my brother still refuses our plan, that is precisely what will you be,” he promised. “Though, let us hope he does not refuse our plan. We have done so much already.”
Beatrice let out a weak laugh and with his help, rose to her feet.
“Did he hurt you?” Algernon asked, gently pulling up the short sleeves of her gown. His mood immediately grew foul once again when he saw the deep red fingerprints bruised into each of her upper arms.
“I am all right,” Beatrice assured softly, cupping his tightened jaw. “He has done far worse in the past. This is nothing. Really.”
Algernon’s stomach tightened painfully at her words. If he had not hated the man previously, he certainly did now.
“I shall alert the guards that they are not allowed to step foot on the property,” Algernon promised. “This will not happen again, Beatrice. He will never touch you again.”
Beatrice nodded, looking down at her feet as she sniffled.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tangling her fingers together before her. “Thank you for rescuing me. Both from the auction and again today.”
“You should not thank me for such an effort,” he answered, a bitter taste in his mouth. “Both were the right thing to do.”
“Yet you were the only one that came to my aid,” she replied, her tone soft as she finally looked up at met his gaze. Algernon’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the gratitude in her eyes.
“You have kept me safe, Algernon,” she softly added. “I see that now.”
Algernon said nothing as she took another step up the staircase.
“I will no longer fight you on this plan of yours,” she told him. “It is obvious to me now that you truly have the best interest for both Henry and me at heart.”
Algernon winced at her words. The sentence he’d been wanting to hear from the beginning was now cutting through him like a knife. He had wanted their obedience… but not at this cost.
“You have been through much today, Beatrice,” he stated, his tone gentle but commanding. “Go upstairs. Rest. I shall send Mira up to draw you a bath and have Mrs. Sheer deliver some tea to soothe your nerves.”
“That sounds lovely,” Beatrice replied, the exhaustion clear in her voice as she walked away from him.
Algernon’s attention was steadfast as she left him; worried that she might break down in tears again at any second. It was, after all, the first time he’d witnessed her shed any through the entire ordeal.
“Beatrice,” he called, unable to help himself.
Beatrice stopped as she neared the top of the stairs and turned to him. He quivered again as he took in her red-rimmed eyes, her tear-stained cheeks, and red-tipped nose.
“It is you that is lovely,” he said softly, sweeping his gaze down her new dress and the pretty matching ribbons she wore. “You look like the lady you are. Do not let their visit allow you to forget how far you have come.”
Beatrice’s smile was small, perhaps even a little sad, but gratitude for his compliment made her cobalt blue eyes positively glow.
“Thank you, Algernon,” she whispered, bowing her head toward him.
He bowed his in return and watched as she disappeared up the steps, his heart and head a mess.