Chapter Seventeen
Hannah forced a swallow into her dry throat as she stared across the narrow aisle of a cheap, closed carriage at Mr. Littleton, the man who’d come into the Duke of Foxcroft’s home and threatened her with a pistol.
He said he would put a ball through her chest unless she left with him, and she wasn’t allowed to speak a word to anyone.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked for what seemed like the fifth time on the ride to Hyde Park.
At least, that’s the direction she’d heard him give a rather dodgy-looking driver before the vehicle was set into motion.
The springs in the bench had long ago given up the ghost, which made her rigid posture rather uncomfortable, but she had to remain alert.
“So we can be together.” The light in the man’s eyes as they passed a gas lamp was eerily similar to madness. “I love you, Lady Mirabelle.”
Good heavens, this has gotten wildly out of hand.
“That isn’t my real name. And frankly, if you truly loved me, you wouldn’t threaten me with death to be with you.”
He shrugged, his form melting away into the shadows, but the soft glint off his pistol’s barrel reminded her of the danger. “You will always be Mirabelle to me, and soon, we will leave for Surrey.”
“Whyever for?”
“I’ve purchased a cottage in the countryside.
We can visit London a few times a year, but the cottage is far enough away from Town that we won’t be disturbed as we start our life together.
” When the carriage lurched to a halt, he scooted over on his bench to push open the door. “We are going to be so happy.”
“Forcing a woman at gunpoint isn’t exactly the happy start to a relationship.” At least he hadn’t bound her wrists. That was his first mistake, and he’d ushered her from the duke’s house through the rear door, which meant the butler and footmen wouldn’t have seen her leave.
Would Evan be able to puzzle out who took her? For there was no doubt in her mind that he would come after her.
“That matters not. Once you’re mine, you’ll realize that we were always meant to be together.” As soon as the stairs were put down, Mr. Littleton exited the vehicle. Then he turned and gestured with the pistol. “Come.”
Hannah frowned even as her heart beat out a frantic rhythm. “Where?” When she alighted from the carriage, a quick glance around told her they were at one of the marble arches that led into Hyde Park. This was the closest one to the shallow end of the Serpentine.
He circled her wrist with a hand. It wasn’t thrilling like when Evan touched her like that. “One of my favorite things is to watch the waterfowl on the river. It is a special place to me, so I want you to share that. It is where I’ll make you mine.”
The urge to retch climbed her throat. “Do you mean to bed me in a public park?” Truly, she didn’t think he was that sort of man. Of course, she hadn’t thought he was prone to violence either, but here they were.
“Of course not. That is strictly between us and not privy to anyone else’s eyes.” As he propelled her down the path into the park itself, his eyes glittered. “I mean to propose there; since you like the area too, we will forever share it as part of our history together.”
Her stomach heaved, and hot saliva filled her mouth. “I won’t marry you, Mr. Littleton.”
“Please, call me Harry. We are far beyond formalities.”
When she attempted to remove herself from his grasp, he tightened his grip; his fingers were like iron. “You were a client of mine. Nothing more, and I certainly won’t marry you.”
A trace of irritation lined his expression, gone at his next blink. “We were meant to be together, Mirabelle. There is a connection between us. Didn’t you feel it the first time we shared intercourse? When we talked afterward all those times?”
Icy fingers of fear played her spine. “If I’m remembering correctly, there weren’t that many times. I saw you twice a month for perhaps six months. I treated you the same as I treated all the men like you.”
“You won’t need to cheapen yourself once we marry.
I’ve bought that lovely cottage, and there will be no reason for you to leave.
” At this point, he was fairly dragging her along the path, and at this hour of the night, there were no visitors that could possibly help her.
“I will keep my position, of course, and will bring you all the supplies you will ever need.”
“How do you expect me to spend my time, then?” Perhaps if she kept him talking, it would give her time to escape… or to give Evan time to reach her.
“Being my wife. Keeping the cottage tidy. Bearing my children. Conducting yourself as the darling of the village. It will be a good, ideal life.” Mr. Littleton continued hauling her behind him while she fought against him as best she could.
“Eventually, I will leave my position in Town and perhaps find something else to earn a living in the village so I can stay close to you.”
Hannah frowned. “While you are in London, do you expect to hold me prisoner in that cottage of yours?”
“Not a prisoner, of course. As my wife, and any man knows to lock away valuable things, so they won’t be stolen.”
Dear God.
Panic filled her chest. “You can’t keep a person locked in a cottage.”
“It’s the only way to protect you from other men.”
She clawed at his fingers with her other hand, but his grip didn’t loosen. “My heart belongs to another.” It was hopeless to try and deny it to herself, for she was in love with Evan. Regardless that it was an impossible match, she’d once more placed her heart into his care.
“You’ll learn to forget him. I’m all you need,” he said and his upper lip curled as he gave her a macabre grin. When he shoved the nose of his pistol into her side, right beneath her breast, her breathing came in soft pants. “We are nearly at the spot we’ll forever call our own.”
I refuse to let any of this happen.
Gooseflesh raced over her skin for more than just the autumnal chill in the air. She had no wrap, cloak, or gloves, and each time the breeze sailed over the exposed skin of her arms and chest, she shook with shivers.
All too soon, he marched her off the bridle path and forced her toward the bank of the Serpentine.
Away from the gas lamps on the main path, the darkness was quite thick.
Every now and again, the soft sounds of splashing drifted to her ears as well as rustling in the reeds or the honk of alarm from a goose.
“Let me go, Mr. Littleton. Love doesn’t intimidate nor does it instill fear.”
“Love takes many forms, but it doesn’t share.”
While she agreed with that point, she sucked in a breath when he drew to a stop near the back. “Yet you want me to marry you when I’ve told you I love someone else.”
“That isn’t true love. Down on your knees, Mirabelle.” He gestured with the pistol, and when she hesitated, he clamped a hand onto her shoulder, forcing her down in a surprising show of strength. Perhaps madness lent that to him.
With a slight cry, Hannah dropped to her knees as her mind raced. “Don’t do this.”
“I must, for I don’t want anyone else to snap you up.”
She clasped her hands together to quell their shaking. “This isn’t the way to win my heart.” Not that she had any intention of giving it to him.
“You are far too spirited and independent, though, and that requires a firm hand.” The cold sting of metal sank into her consciousness when he aligned the nose of the pistol against her forehead. “Being married and committing to one man will fix such flaws.”
Sour bile rose up the back of her throat. “Please let me go. You must know that I will never agree to any of this.”
“Tell me you love me, Mirabelle. This engagement will start our relationship together.” Though his tone was still conversational, an undercurrent of command made her stomach muscles cramp.
“I can’t… I won’t,” she said in a choked whisper. “And Mirabelle is not my name.”
“That is your name, and what I will call you.” The sound of him cocking the pistol rang overly loud in the darkness. “Say you love me, say you wish to marry me.”
“I don’t.” The man wasn’t in his right mind if he thought to make her utter those words by fear and under threat.
“And I never will. Don’t you understand?
” Tears fell to her cheeks as she tried to implore him with her eyes in the inky night.
“Love does none of the things you are doing right now. Love accepts someone as they are, doesn’t try to manipulate them into being something else.
Love supports and when it moves forward, it does so in a manner that both participants have agreed to. ”
“Tell me you love me, Mirabelle, so that I can propose, and you can accept.” A touch of desperation threaded through his voice. “Ever since that first night we spent together, I knew you would be mine.”
The moisture on her cheeks was chilly in the cool air. “We had no nights together. You had a slot in my schedule. Then you went home, and I went about my life. I treated you as I did all my clients; there was no connection. It was a transaction.”
“I want you to tell me you love me and need me in your life.” His hand shook. “You are my only friend, Mirabelle, the only one who understands me.”
Oh, dear God.
“But I don’t, Mr. Littleton. I won’t lie to appease your ego or calm your madness.” For that’s what it was. Loneliness pushed into insanity, and though she felt for the man, that didn’t give him the right to force her into something she didn’t want.
Before he could respond, the sound of twig snapping echoed through the silence.
“Put down the pistol, Mr. Littleton. You have crossed a line, and that is outside of enough.” Seconds later, the captain came into view, and she nearly collapsed with relief. “Evan…”
Mr. Littleton turned about and pointed the pistol at Evan. “Buckthorne. This doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” Slowly, he came forward like a thief in evening clothes, stalking his quarry through the night. “She’s mine, and I believe I’ve told you that twice before.”
“You only consider her a mistress. I’m taking her to wife.”
“He wants to keep me a prisoner regardless of what I wish,” Hannah was quick to add as she gave into a shiver. “Threatened to shoot me if I didn’t agree.”
“You have some nerve, Littleton, and I rather doubt you’ve the stones to kill a woman.” As he spoke, Evan continued to close the distance between him and Mr. Littleton. “Put down the pistol.”
“I won’t. Mirabelle belongs to me.” Then he leveled the nose of the pistol on Evan.
“Interesting that you say you love her but don’t care to learn her real name. A man in love will give his woman her freedom and support her in whatever she wants to do.”
Hannah’s heart squeezed; she adored him. “And when a woman says no, a true gentleman will leave her be.” Except when it came to Evan… but that was a different horse entirely.
“You know nothing about our relationship, Buckthorne.” Mr. Littleton completely ignored her. “We share something special, regardless of her being distracted by you.”
“Ha.” Evan snorted. “Give me the pistol, Littleton.” He held out a gloved hand.
“Don’t come any closer, Captain, or I’ll kill you. At least then there will be no more barrier between me and Mirabelle.”
The captain glanced at her, and she gave him a slight nod.
Everything changed as he continued toward the slighter man.
Hannah struggled to her feet and then launched herself bodily at her former client.
When he fell to the soggy, muddy ground, the pistol was knocked from his hand.
Evan was there to quickly grab the weapon, and by the time Mr. Littleton regained a standing position, it was the captain who held the power.
“That’s enough, Littleton. I’ve grown weary of your interference.
” He leveled the pistol at the other man.
“Mirabelle is out of your reach, do you understand? There is no relationship between you, she doesn’t love you, she will never give into whatever your ridiculous plan was, and should you ever think to hold her captive, I will end you. ”
Charged silence brewed between them, broken only by an occasional honk of a goose.
Mr. Littleton uttered a sound that was a mix between a growl and a cry of rage. “You are ruining everything!” He darted in Hannah’s direction. “If I can’t have you, then he sure as hell won’t either.”
Just as his hands went to her neck, the report of a pistol split the silence.
Bang!
The warmth of blood splattered over her chest and the bodice of her gown.
Agitated honks and quacks of waterfowl rent the air, quickly followed by the sound of rushing wings as they took flight.
Seconds later, Mr. Littleton’s body slumped to the ground.
A thin line of smoke curled from the nose of the pistol in Evan’s hand.
“Dear heavens, you killed him.” The urge to retch rose sharply in her throat.
A glance down at Mr. Littleton revealed a hole in his upper chest. Vaguely, she touched her torso with a hand, making certain the ball didn’t do any damage to her when it exited him.
There must have been enough space between them to prevent real harm to her. “He’s dead.”
“Yes, he is.” Evan came near and nudged the body with the toe of his shoe.
“I warned him repeatedly to leave you alone. And he deserved his fate for daring to kidnap you. Additionally, he threatened to kill you as well as me.” With a huff of breath, he chucked the pistol into the Serpentine.
“One could say this was an issue of self-defense, really.”
As shock plowed through her person, Hannah bounced her gaze between the captain and the dead man. “You thought nothing of killing a man.”
“Dearest, that is the least of what I’ve done in the past. What is another death when it means keeping a good person safe? He was going to strangle you, Anna. I simply couldn’t allow that.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply or even ponder what his use of the endearment meant.
One moment she stood in shock and horror at what he’d done, and the next he’d drawn her away from the body to take her into his arms. Then his lips were on hers, and he kissed her as if he had nothing else better to do in the world.
As if he hadn’t just ended someone’s life, defense or not.
Shaking from the cold and reaction, she strove to lose herself in that kiss, to reassure her that she was safe and she always would be with him, to block out everything that had happened in the past few hours, but she couldn’t.
She put a hand to his chest, intending to push him away, yet he put distance between them before she had the chance.
“We must go.” And he took her hand, tugging her back to the bridle path and leaving the dead man behind.