Chapter Thirty
“This is the last thing.” Rhys gritted his teeth as he hauled the body up under the armpits. Nigel took hold of the legs, and they slowly made their way to the cliff’s edge. “I mean it.”
Nigel grunted. With two coordinated swings, they tossed the body over and into the churning sea. Nigel bent and rested his hands on his knees as he pulled in two deep breaths. “Damn, he’d gotten so fat.”
Rhys scowled.
Nigel raised his hands in a sign of surrender.
“Last time I’ll ask you for anything. I swear.
But dispatching the last of the Gorman brothers, don’t tell me that wasn’t satisfying.
When he surfaced on British soil, I could hardly believe the intel.
He wouldn’t have trusted anyone but you to get close enough to him to get the kill. ”
Rhys crossed his arms and grunted. It had been satisfying to kill the head of the notorious gang that specialized in trafficking not just smuggled goods but also young women.
Taking them from their homes in Ireland and Wales with promises of working in fine homes in London, only to actually put them on ships headed to the Americas and lives of indentured servitude.
Nigel was right; no one but him could have lured Harold Gorman away from his bodyguards.
Several years ago, Rhys had spent a year undercover trying to dismantle the gang from the inside.
Harold Gorman had disappeared to the continent, leaving his brothers to take the fall when the government raided their camp, thanks to the information Rhys had passed along.
That bloody bastard deserved to meet a bloody end.
Rhys clapped Nigel on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get back. I want to clean up and head out.”
His bad mood mostly stemmed from having to be away from Violet for almost a week now.
When Nigel found him at the Blue Angel, he had been brooding over Violet’s comment that the duke’s goodwill was what would take care of her and her baby.
The insult had felt like a punch in the gut.
She didn’t think that he would take care of her?
What had he been doing since the moment he’d met her?
Nigel had told him about the job that he needed help with, and it had seemed the perfect opportunity to take a few days away so that he could logically assess if he even had a future with Violet or if he had simply been deluding himself.
He had seen firsthand how love could warp one’s view of the person you were involved with.
He knew that there were social divides that could not be crossed.
Would a lady like Violet even consider a future with a man like him?
Rhys ran a hand through his hair. He could admit to himself, at least, that he had let old insecurities lead his decision to say yes to Nigel’s request for help.
Once he’d said yes to the job, he’d sent a note to Violet’s house to tell her he would be out of town for a few days on business.
The trouble was that Harold Gorman was as cagey as ever, and it had taken him more time than he anticipated to track him down to this coaching house in Brighton, of all fucking places.
“Nigel, I thought you were disappearing for a long vacation to the continent?”
“Yes, well, I was offered a promotion and quite a large salary.” Nigel shrugged. “It is nice to have a purpose. Not sure I would have lasted very long on vacation.”
They entered the small fishing village where they had taken lodging for the night. “Let’s get a good night’s rest and then leave in the morning for London.” He narrowed his eyes at Nigel. “I’m serious. Last time. Don’t ever talk to me again.”
Nigel chuckled. They walked into the inn from the back door.
“All right. But I do have something to give you. I have been cleaning up Lord Fleming’s affairs before his nephew and family come to take possession of the town house.
He left you an envelope. I meant to give it to you earlier, but I forgot with all this.
I’ll bring it to your room. Just give me a few moments. ”
Rhys entered his own room, immediately stripped off his jacket and shirt, and poured water from the pitcher into the washbowl.
Scooping water with his hands, he splashed his face, rinsing off sweat and droplets of blood.
A knock rang out. He grabbed a towel and quickly patted his face.
Then he went to unlock the door and let Nigel in.
“Here, I found this. It had your name on it.” Nigel shoved a large envelope into his hands. “See you in the morning.” The man unceremoniously turned on his heel and walked away.
Nigel was a strange bird sometimes. Rhys shut the door and locked it again.
He finished washing up and then took the envelope and went to sit on the bed with his back against the headboard.
Before he even opened it, though, his thoughts returned to Violet, as they had every night this week.
God, he missed her laugh and the smell of her hair.
Had the baby been moving? Had she been eating enough?
Fuck. Why was he sitting here in fucking Brighton when he could be back in London and in bed with her?
He ripped open the envelope, breaking the seal, and peered inside. His eyes widened as he pulled out a large bundle of cash. He set it next to him on the bed. Then he pulled out a piece of parchment. Lord Fleming’s familiar scrawl filled the page.
My dear boy,
I hope I have spoken to you about this already, but it is always good to have a backup plan.
If you are receiving this letter, I am dead.
The favor I must ask you is twofold. First, I need you to go to Lady Awbrey and warn her of the danger of her liaison with Lord Lavensham.
His mistresses have all met untimely deaths, and I am certain those were not all the tragic coincidences that he has always lamented.
The truth is that Lady Awbrey and I have been friends for years.
When her husband died, I hoped to comfort her in any way that I could.
Even though our friendship is strong, I held myself back from pursuing her romantically because this job has been my life for so long, and I did not know how I could change my focus this late in life.
Unfortunately, my cowardice only led to my watching her be scooped up by James.
The money I have included inside is for her so that she need not worry about the financial repercussions of ending her relationship with James.
The second part of the favor is simply that you consider following the advice of an old fool like me.
Don’t make the mistake of letting this job define your life.
My regrets are many that I never allowed myself to love someone and be loved in return.
That I held myself back instead of reaching for what I wanted.
We do the hard work that no one else sees.
Danger is a constant companion. But don’t make the same mistakes.
You deserve happiness as much as the next man.
I have watched you grow into a man of worth.
A man who takes responsibility for not just himself but those that he surrounds himself with.
I am proud of you, whatever that is worth.
Goodbye, friend.
Rhys wiped at a tear that streaked down his cheek.
Fresh grief hit him like a fist to his chest. Death was a part of life, he reminded himself.
But he hadn’t felt like this since his mother died.
This man had plucked him from the streets and showed him what it was to be a man of worth.
He had been the closest Rhys ever had to a father.
That’s what a father was, was it not? Not always the person who had sired you, but the figure who ushered you into manhood with the rules and values that would help mold you into the person you became?
You deserve happiness. That’s just what Violet had said with such quiet conviction.
He hadn’t believed her at the time. And he still wasn’t sure, but damn it, Violet made him happy.
She was a bloody miracle in his life. Tomorrow, he would go straight to her and beg her to keep him in her life in whatever manner she wished.
He would be whatever she needed him to be because she was his life now.
*
The sights and smells of London assaulted his senses as he rode back into the city.
He was tired and dusty, but he couldn’t wait to see his girl.
As he rode down Oxford Street, he briefly wondered if he should go home and bathe before going to her house, but immediately dismissed the idea.
He needed to kiss her. Then he would go home, greet his dog, and get cleaned up.
He pulled up to the mews and gave his horse over to the stable hand. “We’ve had a long journey. Give him a good rubdown and extra hay.”
“Yes, Mr. Seaton.”
Rhys pulled his watch out of his jacket pocket.
Four o’clock. She was probably having tea with toast and jam in her sitting room.
He came through the back gate, strode over to the tree, and climbed up.
Her window was closed and he gave it a tug, only to find it locked.
How odd. Why would her window be closed on such a balmy day? Violet enjoyed the fresh air.
He climbed back down and headed to the kitchen door.
With a quick rap of his knuckles on the door, he let himself in.
It was quiet, not a soul bustling about.
He frowned and headed down the corridor to the butler’s office.
Mr. Hodgins’s head popped up from the ledger he was studying as Rhys stepped into the threshold. “Mr. Seaton!”
“Good day. I am looking for Lady Sommerset. Is she at home?”
Hodgins rose, his hands clasped in front of him. “No, sir.”
“When do you expect her back? I will return then.”
“But she is gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean?”
“The duke came and took her.”
Panic grew in his chest. “What do you mean, man? Took her where? When?”
“Monday last week,” the voice came from his left. Rhys turned and found Jim standing in the hallway. “I tried to find you. But you weren’t at home.”
Rhys tugged a hand through his hair. “I had business out of town. I sent a note to her to explain my absence.” A lot of good it did.
“I have not opened her correspondence.” Hodgins waved a hand at a neat pile of notes on the corner of his desk. “The duke was quite angry. He arrived and forcibly took her from the house. She was allowed to take her lady’s maid with her. They traveled to Eastwell Park.”
“He said he was takin’ her so he could keep an eye on her until the baby came,” Jim said. “He was in a right snit. He shook her something fierce.”
“Why didn’t you stop him? Dammit. You just let him abscond with her?”
Mr. Hodgins’s face fell. But he did not respond, nor did Jim.
Rhys glanced between the two men, who he knew cared for their mistress.
He let out a long breath. The fact was that their salaries were paid by the duke.
They must do as he asked or be out of a plum job.
Rhys didn’t fault them for that. Jim said he tried to come get him.
But, fuck all, he had let his hurt pride lead him right out of town, and he hadn’t been here when she needed him.
“Don’t worry, boys, I will get her back. Now, where is this Eastwell Park?”
“Kent,” Hodgins replied.
“But where in Kent?”
Hodgins shrugged. “I don’t know. I have never been. I could contact the duke’s staff and find out.”
“Do it. We will need to take a carriage to bring her home.” He turned to Jim. “Will you come? And we will bring her coachman too. I need one hour, and I’ll be back.”
“Yes, sir.” Jim hurried down the hall.
The bell for the front door jangled from the bell rack on the wall. Mr. Hodgins frowned. “Please excuse me.”
Curious who was at Violet’s front door, Rhys followed the butler through the house to the foyer.
Hodgins opened the door to find Violet’s parents on the threshold.
Lord Blackpool swept into the house with his wife at his heels.
“Hodgins, where is my daughter? Is she unwell?” Blackpool came to an abrupt stop when he noticed Rhys. “What are you doing here?”
Lady Blackpool’s eyes narrowed. She turned to Hodgins. “Violet has not answered any of my notes. Where is she?”
“My lord, my lady. She has been taken by Lord Lavensham.”
“Against her will,” Rhys interjected.
“Hodgins, is that true?” Blackpool asked.
“Yes, sir. He came to the house last Monday in a terrible temper and forcibly took her. They were headed to Eastwell Park, I believe.” Hodgins wrung his hands as his gaze bounced from her parents to Rhys and back again.
“I told her that he was going to hear the gossip,” Lady Blackpool muttered. “That she should be careful. You are he, aren’t you? Why else would you be here?”
“What is he?” Violet’s father looked confused.
“Don’t be daft, Gerald. He is her lover.”
“What?!” Blackpool’s frown deepened into a full-blown glower.
Rhys nodded tersely. “I expect that you, of all people, realize the danger she is in, being trapped on that estate with him. I have been out of town on business and did not know what happened until just now, or I would have stopped it.”
Blackpool swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing above his cravat. “He surely wouldn’t hurt her while she carries his heir in her womb.”
“I am certainly not going to take that chance. I’m going to get her,” Rhys replied.
“And by the way, I figured out what Fleming’s last wish was about.
He wanted me to warn Lady Awbrey to break off her affair with the duke.
He knew that the untimely deaths of every single one of the duke’s mistresses were not simply tragic coincidences.
He wanted me to protect Lady Awbrey from the same fate.
So, no, I am not going to leave the woman that I love in the hands of an unstable murderer. I protect what’s mine.”
Violet’s father took a stumbling step back as though Rhys had slapped him across the face.
He nodded, his expression grim. He glanced at his wife, whose eyebrows were raised high in shock, then back to Rhys.
He straightened his shoulders. “Good, go get her. I know how to stop Lavensham from hurting anyone else ever again. I will put things into motion here while you are gone. Despite what you believe about me, I do care deeply for my family. The bonds of friendship can only be stretched so far before breaking. Come, dear, we need to pay a visit to the Duke of Hartwick.”
He led his sputtering wife back out the front door. “The Duke of Hartwick? But I thought you hated him?” Her voice echoed loudly as they walked down to the street.
Rhys turned to Hodgins. “I will be back in an hour.”