Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
L ydia rolled over to the sound of her maid stirring the fireplace. She opened her eyes a crack and sighed. She’d dreamed about Keith the entire night. Some could only be described as lewd while others were glimpses into a future as an old married couple. They were all vivid. She wished she could roll over and return to her slumber wonderland.
“My lady, this arrived for you.” Ellie handed Lydia a folded piece of parchment. Lydia recognized the Duke of Dorset’s insignia. She wondered if Keith sent her a love letter. She pulled the wax free and read it. Her heart sank as she realized he’d left to see Rajesh. She knew it meant her cousin and his family were in danger from the East India Company. While she could appreciate Keith going to his friend’s aid, she found her stomach roiled at the idea of him being in danger.
She threw back the covers and hurried to dress, selecting a mid-thigh length kurta and churidar. She glanced toward the door, a scowl emerging as she considered Oliver sleeping a few doors away. She chose her clothes purposefully. She would make herself as unappealing as she could. She’d found something that deemed her unworthy in Oliver’s eyes, so she would play it to her advantage. She’d done her best to convince her father Oliver was a horrible choice without disclosing what she knew about the man. She prayed something so trivial as clothing would dissuade her suitor. Otherwise, she feared what Keith would do to his cousin and that she would have to disclose the truth to her father. One thing of which she was certain: she wasn’t marrying Oliver Gwyn.
She sat while Ellie brushed her hair and tied it back with a ribbon that matched her tunic and trousers. She glanced in the mirror once she’d washed her face and cleaned her teeth. She was ready to face the day. She made her way to the dining room, pleased to see her parents already at the table. She filled her plate from the buffet and slid into her seat. When she heard Oliver approaching, she returned for more food than she needed, but she would make certain he saw her in her full ensemble. She plastered the same sugary smile she always wore as she turned her head toward him. She watched his gaze skim her, his displeasure clear in his eyes even if the rest of his face remained neutral.
“Good morning, my lord.” Lydia dipped a curtsy before turning her back to him and returning to her chair.
“Good morning, my lady. We shall take the air when we finish our breakfast.” Oliver’s pronouncement irritated Lydia. She cast her eyes toward her father, glowering, while Oliver couldn’t see her. She noticed her father appeared wearier than usual. He shot her a quelling glance before greeting their guest. The meal progressed with banal conversation until Oliver came to stand beside Lydia’s chair. When she rose, he held out his arm. “Come along, my lady.”
Lydia wanted to bare her teeth and snap them, annoyed that his tone was the same someone would use with a dog or horse. She accepted the proffered arm but didn’t move. “We won’t be long, Mama. I know you wish to go into the village. I won’t keep you waiting.”
They had no such plan, but she knew her mother wouldn’t contradict her in front of their guest. Lydia would find a reason to leave their home and escape Oliver. Knowing Keith left ratcheted her fear. She’d felt more at ease when she knew he was returning a fortnight after his last departure. She had no idea when he would return from this voyage.
Oliver guided her out of the house and along the path toward Forde Abbey. Lydia wondered for what purpose. She didn’t fight her escort, but her senses were on alert. Something felt amiss. There was no reason for them to wander this way, and they hadn’t in the past. Just the opposite. Oliver had always studiously avoided drawing close to his cousin’s home. She remained quiet, her eyes scanning their surroundings. They skirted the front drive and walked toward the garden. She searched for any of the servants who might be near the stables or working among the flora. She saw no one.
“Come, Lydia. Don’t make me drag you.” Oliver’s voice held a new degree of threat. He’d called her by her given name without her permission countless times when they were walking. She tried to glance over her shoulder to Ellie, who trailed a discreet distance behind her, but Oliver yanked her arm.
“You may release me, Oliver.” She tried to pull her arm free, but his fingers of his free hand bit into her flesh. He increased their pace, and he drew her closer to the beach path. They were nearly to the sand when she heard a muffled scream. She pushed Oliver’s chest and spun around. A man had his hand over Ellie’s mouth and a knife to her throat. “Ellie!”
Lydia glanced at Oliver, expecting him to move to her maid’s defense. Yet, it didn’t surprise her when he did nothing. She made to run to Ellie’s aid, but Oliver’s arm wrapped around her waist and hoisted her off the ground. She flailed her arms and legs, striking him in the shins with her heels and his ribs with her elbows. She thrust her head backward, her skull cracking his nose. When his hand went around her throat and squeezed mercilessly, she ceased her struggle. She needed to conserve the air in her lungs and her energy.
“You shamed me last night, and I will not tolerate a whoring wife. I know you went to him before that. How you got in, I don’t know. But I saw you come and go. I know he lurked all night, but he shouldn’t have assumed daylight would deter me.” Oliver put her on her feet, but he kept one hand around her throat, and the other fisted her hair, pushing her forward. He steered her to the shore, where three dinghies full of rough-looking men waited. She knew if she got within arm’s reach of the men, she wouldn’t have any chance of escape.
She redoubled her efforts to break free. She reached back and gouged Oliver’s eyes with her thumbs. He released her, and she bolted. She knew she couldn’t make it back up the path faster than the men, so she ran toward the cave. She prayed it was close enough she could enter the secret tunnel before the men caught her. If they followed her in, she trusted they would get lost before they could grab her.
Unfortunately, the sand and her slippers made it difficult to run. She let them fall from her feet, allowing her to pick up her pace. Three men emerged from the cave, clearly prepared for her to run toward it. One snagged her around the waist and hauled her over his shoulder. She continued to fight, but to no avail. When Oliver told the man who carried her to put her down, he approached with a malevolent smile.
“You may as well stop resisting, Lydia. I will see you tomorrow. Once I convince your parents the bastard absconded with you, I will join you. We will marry tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll plow you tomorrow night. Make no mistake, my dear. You are as good as my wife and my property. I will do as I please with you.”
“Like you did with Kelsey?” Lydia spat.
Oliver’s gaze hardened as he stepped forward and lashed out at her. Except she was ready. She ducked her head and kicked out her foot. She drove it into his groin and watched him double over. He roared with rage, but he could do nothing to retaliate, his discomfort too great to straighten. The man who’d carried her flung her back over his shoulder. She was without recourse as she landed first in a dinghy, then on the deck of a ship that had already weighed anchor and had its sails hoisted. They were underway the moment the men secured the last dinghy.
Scrambling to her feet, Lydia didn’t hesitate to charge toward the rail. She was nearly over the side and free when someone snatched a handful of her hair and tugged. She landed hard, sprawled across the deck.
“My lady, you will be dead before you’re off this ship.” A dark-haired man with a grizzly beard and missing teeth stood over her. “Make your choice about how you travel. Do I grant you the freedom of being in a cabin where my men can’t touch you? Or do I tie you to the center mast and let them do as they please with that mouth of yours?”
“You’ll have a crew without cocks if they come near me. My bite is far worse than my bark.” Lydia parroted a grin as she showed her teeth. But wisdom told her it wasn’t the right time to continue her fight. She didn’t resist as the captain thrust her into a cabin and locked the door from the outside. She was certain it wasn’t his, since it appeared like little more than a storage room. She surveyed her surroundings and her situation.
There’s little you can do now. Oliver shall spin a tale this is Keith’s doing, but I pray my father understands it isn’t. But what can he do? It’ll take him two days to ride to Rajesh’s. Who knows where we will be by then? Wherever it is can’t be far if Oliver plans to meet us and drag me before a priest tomorrow. He meant his threat about forcing me, and I know he won’t wait until we’re married. He’ll be convinced bedding me will force me to marry him. I won’t. No priest will marry an unwilling bride, not even at a viscount’s insistence. Keith, where are you? I need you.
Lydia slumped against the wall, resting her head against it as she slid to the floor. Time wasn’t on her side, but she believed, despite the captain’s threats, none of the men would touch her. Oliver wouldn’t allow it, and they were pirates who worked for coin. Money they wouldn’t receive if she arrived soiled in Oliver’s eyes. He was already fuming about Keith. He was liable to be lethal if he thought another man touched her. She closed her eyes and determined to wait out the time until she knew the next event in her fate.
* * *
Keith greeted Rajesh on the cliffs above where he’d docked his ship. His friend appeared even more exhausted than the last time he’d seen him. This time, Keith was certain it wasn’t entirely Charlie’s pregnancy.
“What’s happened?” Keith asked as they shook hands.
“They attacked Ben during his last run. He shot one and wounded two with his sword. They didn’t expect him to have it buried beneath the hay. Before they made their move, they told him the East India Company sends its regards. They demanded the gunpowder they believed he carried. He’d already delivered it to Theo and only had brandy on his wagon.”
“Was he hurt?”
“A sliced shoulder, but that’s it. It was deep enough for stitches, but he hasn’t developed a fever.”
“How’s Charlie taking this?”
“She was beside herself when he arrived covered in blood, most of which wasn’t his. Now she’s livid he took such a risk traveling at night. She tends to him as a doting sister, but she’s barely said a word since it became clear he would recover with ease.”
“And how are you?”
“In the middle and frustrated. But not by them. They sound just like Arjun and I did. It’s realizing just how close the Company is to closing in on us. Ben won’t be able to continue transporting the goods. He’s too recognizable. That means sailing, which makes us vulnerable to pirates. There’s no good solution.”
“What do you need from me?” Keith didn’t want to ask because he didn’t want to be there. But Rajesh had saved his life more than once while they were privateers. He felt obligated.
“I know you wish you were home. I saw how you and Lydia were. I suspect more has progressed since I left.”
“She accepted my betrothal, but my cousin refuses to relent.”
“Cousin?”
“Oliver. Turns out he started courting her while I was away. We were caught kissing and half the village saw us. He still demands he’s entitled to her hand.”
“Sackville?” Rajesh looked past Keith to the docked ship. “He was a friend of Zachary Windsor-Clive. I had a missive from a business partner in London. Both men invested heavily in the Company. Apparently, he went on a tear when word reached him Windsor-Clive died.”
“And he happens to show up on the Abbingtons’ doorstep right after it happened. He must know about Will.”
“I don’t doubt it. If Windsor-Clive shared his suspicions, which I’m sure he did, then your cousin knows about the gunpowder and saltpeter. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s blackmailing Will into letting him marry Lydia.”
“I never imagined Will would be so weak.”
“We don’t know for sure. And if Sackville is pressuring Will, we don’t know what he’s using to force my uncle’s hand. It could be Lydia’s or Sarla’s lives. It might even be Lydia’s sister and her family. She has a newborn.”
“True.” Keith raked his hand through his hair and turned toward his ship. “I want to help, but now I don’t trust Lydia and her family are safe.”
“Go back. We’ll sort things here.”
“I feel badly.”
“Don’t. The gunpowder is important, but not more important than my family’s lives. No one will fault you.”
“If I leave now, I can catch the tide.” Keith said his farewells before returning to his ship and a confused crew. He was curt as he explained why they would return to Forde Abbey. He stood at the prow as they sailed away from Powderham. He paced the deck throughout the night when he didn’t take his turn at the helm. His first mate finally convinced him to retire to his cabin for a few hours. He woke to bellowing and cannon fire.
“What the bloody hell is happening?” Keith roared as he came on deck. His first mate pointed to a nearby ship with smoking cannons jutting out from its side. He squinted until he was certain of what he saw. “He has Lydia.”
“We know, Captain. He’s making ready to board us. We didn’t dare fire back with the lady aboard.”
“Let them come. I want the fight on this ship and away from Lydia.” Keith spun to a crate that held weapons and loaded as many pistols as he could carry, ordering his men to do the same. He dashed to his cabin and retrieved his sword, which he sheathed at his left hip. He returned to the deck as the first grappling hook dragged along the planks.
“Ahoy, Marauder!”
Keith couldn’t believe who stood with Lydia pinned to his side. The pirate had been the bane of his existence for years, often trying to plunder Keith’s pillaged cargo. He trained his eyes on the man, his face a thundercloud. Nicholas La Grange, more often known as Le Sabordeur or The Scuttler, grinned at him. La Grange sank every ship he didn’t bring into his armada, and he usually did it with the surviving crew tied to the gunwales. Keith refused to consider that as his fate.
“How much did he pay you?” Keith wouldn’t prevaricate.
“One hundred pounds silver. How much will you pay me?”
Keith met Lydia’s eyes, assessing how she appeared. She had a visible bruise on her cheek, and her clothes were crumpled. But she looked better than he’d feared. He darted his eyes away from La Grange, praying she understood. She stomped on the pirate’s foot and lurched away. Keith seized the moment and fired his gun. The bullet landed in the center of his enemy’s throat.
All hell broke loose as The Scuttler’s crew realized their leader was dead. They poured over the rails and onto Keith’s boat. Some swung from ropes, others used boards to cross, and a few jumped. Keith did his best to know where Lydia was throughout the sea battle, but there were times when he had to turn away. His men maintained control and slowly plowed their way through their attackers. When a bullet whizzed past him, perforating his sleeve, he had no time to react before the culprit’s head exploded from a bullet to the back of his skull. As the dead man collapsed, he found Lydia standing with a smoking gun. She raised another and shot again without hesitation, killing a man who ran toward her. Keith was agog that she hesitated not at all and appeared unfazed by the battle or her actions.
He had little time to remain in his stupor as his enemy continued to fight his crew. He swung his sword as he fought to reach his enemy’s ship and Lydia, but each time he advanced, another one of The Scuttler’s crew surged toward him. Fortified by the knowledge that Lydia defended herself and him, he kept her in his sights but continued to battle the men seeking to avenge their dead captain. Sweat dripped from his brow, and it relieved him to watch Lydia scurry to hide behind a stack of crates and barrels. It placed her back to the far rail, so no one could slip behind her. Once he knew she was better protected, he focused entirely on the fight. He cut through one after another alongside his men.
Keith and his men prevailed. As his men cheered their victory, Keith dashed across a plank and swept Lydia into his arms. Their kiss was frantic as their hands roamed, reassuring one another they were each in one piece. Fear still hammered their hearts, but the moments spent in each other’s arms quietened their panic. When they could no longer go without drawing air deep into their lungs, they pulled apart.
“Lyddie, my love.” Keith kissed her cheeks, her jaw, her forehead, her lips, and her cheeks again. Never had he felt so relieved to see anyone.
“I’m all right, Keith. A little banged about and sore, but nothing serious.”
“What happened?” Keith cupped her face, her calm mien easing his fear for her life but heating his temper as he thought about who perpetrated her abduction.
“Oliver insisted we go for a walk. He brought me to the beach while one of his men restrained Ellie. I fought and tried to get away, but there were too many men on the beach. He told the captain he would meet us later today. He still insists we’ll marry.”
“He won’t be insisting anything from the grave.” Keith turned toward his first mate and called out orders. He would remain upon The Scuttler’s ship and captain it. With one hand on the wheel and the other holding Lydia at his side, they returned to Forde Abbey. Keith’s entire crew escorted them to Abbington House. No one knew what to expect, but it was a relief to Keith and Lydia to learn Oliver departed the day before but had been captured. He’d claimed he was going to rescue Lydia from Keith. However, neither of her parents believed their neighbor was to blame, so Will sent men to follow Oliver. Keith’s cousin awaited him in the monks’ dormitory, his makeshift dungeon.
“Why did you ever consider marrying me to him, Father?” Lydia held each of her parents’ hands as they stood together in the drawing room.
“He knows everything. He’s been spying on the Pedricks for months, and what he didn’t learn from his own informants, Windsor-Clive told him before he died. He’s practically in hock from what he invested in the Company. He threatened to expose all of us. He said he would be a benevolent husband if I didn’t contest his suit, but he would kill you if I stood in his way.”
Will drew his daughter back into his embrace before wrapping his arms around Lydia and Sarla. Both women melted against him as he kissed each forehead.
“Lyddie, you never would have married him. I just needed time. I didn’t expect His Grace getting involved. It certainly complicated things. I have men gathering information about Sackville. Apparently, there’s a rumor he and Windsor-Clive assaulted a woman several years ago, and she disappeared. No one knows who. Windsor-Clive is already dead, but I intend to make an example of Sackville.”
Lydia pulled away, wrapping her arms around her waist as tears poured forth. “It was Kelsey.” She choked out each word. Will reached for her, but she turned toward Keith, who could only shoot her father a stunned expression. Keith embraced Lydia as she sobbed. She released years of grief.
“Lyddie?” Keith stroked her back until she unfurled her arms that were tucked between them. She wrapped them around his waist and shook her head. She wasn’t ready. She cried for another five minutes, then finally exhaled a shuddering breath. Keith led her to a settee, but rather than guiding her to sit beside him, he pulled her onto his lap. He cared not whether Sarla and Will approved. He was determined Lydia would be his wife by that night if she consented.
“That was my secret, Keith. The one I didn’t want to tell. I knew what Zachary did to her. I found her that night. It was at the Countess of Hartford’s ball. I was dancing and lost sight of Kels. By the time I disengaged myself from my partner, she was nowhere in the ballroom. I searched the retiring room, the card room, the dining room, and back into the ballroom. I finally stepped onto the terrace and saw Zachary returning as he tucked his shirt in. A moment later, Kelsey emerged from the shadows. It took no guessing to understand what happened. What I didn’t know until I read her diary was that Oliver was involved, too. I never saw him.”
Lydia looked up at Keith, her heart breaking as she spoke. But she was about to hammer the last nail into the proverbial coffin.
“Mother, Father, you may recall I claimed a headache and said Kelsey would see me home since we stayed with them. It was the other way around. I took her home and got her into bed. We told everyone she was the one to come down with the ague. What we needed was time for her bruises to fade. Her father never visited. You might remember he stayed in London when we returned here. I was at Forde Abbey the day the old duke came home. He grabbed Kelsey by the hair while we sat in the garden. He ranted about her being a whore and that he wouldn’t tolerate her disgracing the family.”
Lydia wiped away more tears as she tried to compose herself to continue. She never imagined how much it would hurt to recount what she’d learned and witnessed.
“That’s when he started tying her to the bed at night. I didn’t know this until I read the diary, but, Keith, your father—he let his friends—do things when they visited. We went for a walk after church one Sunday, and that was the last time I saw her alive. The Duke claimed it was consumption, but she was never sick. He said her weak constitution meant she succumbed quickly. Keith, your father beat your sister to death. There is no explanation for the bruising I saw. I sneaked in to say my private goodbyes. I witnessed the aftermath of what he did. What you heard me say that day was my pledge to mete justice to your father and Zachary. I didn’t know about Oliver until six weeks ago.”
“Bloody hell, Lydia!” Will roared. “You put yourself in harm’s way day after day. You should have told me. I would have killed him before letting him touch you twice. How could you keep that from us? How could you endanger yourself like that?”
“I didn’t know why, but I knew there had to be a reason for you to consider him. I feared what he’d do at first if I blatantly refused him. Once Keith returned, my fear lessened. While Oliver is a viscount, and you’re a baronet, Keith is a duke. I never imagined Oliver would abduct me.”
“I didn’t either, but I should have. I’ve known him my entire life. He never shared and often tried to hurt Kelsey when we were little. I left her to fend for herself. I left her vulnerable, and now she’s dead, but not at peace.” Keith hung his head as an invisible fist wrapped around his chest and threatened to squeeze so hard his heart would surely stop.
Lydia twisted and wrapped her arms around Keith’s shoulders, drawing his head to her chest. It was her turn to offer comfort. She rested her cheek against his crown. His arms tightened around her as though she were all that kept him from falling apart.
“It wasn’t your fault, Keith. I think they would have hurt her regardless of whether you even attended that ball. They weren’t afraid of being caught. They believed they were untouchable. Oliver clearly still thinks that if he believes he could take me from you. I was there. I should have done more. I should have told my parents. I should have gotten a Bow Street Runner to investigate and track them. Once Kelsey died, I didn’t want to dishonor her memory or betray the secrets she swore me to keep. I had good intentions, but then the path to hell is paved with them.”
Keith leaned to look around Lydia, meeting Sarla’s gaze, then Will’s. “If Lydia agrees, I want us to marry today. I don’t want to spend another day without knowing she’s my wife, to have and to hold. I will deal with my cousin tomorrow, but today I want to make Lydia my bride.”
“I want that, too.” Lydia looked at her parents, who were already nodding.
“I’ll call for a bath, and we can pick out something for you to wear.”
“Mama, I don’t need anything special. I’d rather we just go to the vicar now.”
Sarla walked over to Lydia and Keith, her hand cupping Lydia’s bruised cheek but putting no pressure against it. “You’ll want to look back at today with fond memories. Start your marriage fresh, not with remnants of your ordeal. You’ll feel better for it.”
Lydia glanced at Keith and knew her mother spoke the truth. It wasn’t about her clothes or her appearance. She wanted to wash away the feel of Oliver and the pirates. She wanted to feel presentable to those who would be present. She wanted to put Oliver and all he represented in the past.
“Thank you, Mama.” Lydia rose, and Keith followed her. “Should we meet you at the church?”
Keith gazed down at Lydia and knew that wasn’t where either of them wanted to wed. While so many horrid memories lingered at the abbey, it was to be their home. They both wanted to bring joy back to it, and they both wanted Kelsey to be part of it.
“Come home, sweetling.”