Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Sister!”
Anger erupted in Laurence’s veins as Ellen flinched by his side, obviously taken off guard by his sister’s over-exuberant welcome. Madalene bounded toward them, oblivious to the effect she’d had on Ellen.
“She means no harm,” Laurence whispered in Ellen’s ear. “No one in this house does.”
He watched as Ellen expelled a held breath just as Madalene reached them and threw her arms tightly around his new bride.
The ceremony had been short and intimate, just as she said she preferred.
Still, Laurence had found himself pausing slightly as he was urged to repeat his vows.
Even though he had been the one to suggest the marriage, he still found the circumstances of this surreal.
He could have gone his entire life without a wife, yet now he had one—one stolen from his enemy. Though he delighted in the irony, he still felt pity for Ellen. She deserved to be more than a pawn in their twisted game, yet it seemed there was no way around her being one.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” Madalene crowed happily as she squeezed Ellen tight. “Oh, I have been so excited to meet you ever since Laurence told me he was getting married!”
She pulled away, a pout on her lips as she flicked an annoyed glance at him before smiling back at Ellen.
“I do apologize for not being at the wedding, but Laurence insisted I stay behind. He said you preferred a more private affair,” Madalene explained to Ellen.
Laurence watched, his stature stiff, as Ellen offered his sister a tentative smile in return.
“He was right, though I do apologize if you took offense,” Ellen offered sweetly.
“No,” Madalene swiftly replied, shaking her head as if she found the notion silly. “Not at all. In fact, I find it quite fitting for Laurence. Unlike me, he is quite comfortable in his solitude.”
Ellen glanced up at him with questioning eyes, and he merely gave her a curt nod.
“I had no idea we shared such a similarity,” she said to him.
“The Ton bores me,” Laurence answered.
“Well, it excites me,” Madalene interjected, “and I shall be taking full advantage of its soirees while you two have your honeymoon.”
“Not without a chaperone, you will not,” Laurence countered quickly, fixing his sister with a warning stare.
Ellen flinched at his gruff tone, immediately sending guilt spearing through his chest, but Madalene only rolled her eyes.
“Relax, brother. I am staying at our cousins’ home and taking the guards and maids that you have approved,” Madalene sighed.
She then looked back to Ellen and whispered, “He is so protective. Overly so, in my opinion. Alas, there is not a thing we can do to dissuade his nature, though. I have tried and failed many a time.”
Laurence ground his teeth, fighting the urge to lecture his sister on the dangers of the men of the Ton. Again, for the thousandth time, he reminded himself that Madalene was not Annabel, and he kept his warnings to himself.
“Would you please give Ellen a tour of the estate and introduce her to the staff before you go?” he said instead, “Make it short, though. She needs rest.”
Ellen gave him a grateful look, but Madalene narrowed her eyes in annoyance.
“You are abandoning your duties as a husband already, brother?” she asked with clear disappointment. “Is that not your responsibility?”
Her gaze turned apologetic as she looked to Ellen and said, “Not that I mind in the slightest, sister. I just want my brother to understand the importance of his husbandly duties.”
“I would,” Laurence interjected, flicking his gaze over his shoulder, just in time to see the plain carriage coming up the drive. “But I have some business to take care of that is most pressing.”
“Brother! On your wedding day?” Madalene scolded.
“It is quite alright,” Ellen interjected before Laurence could tell Madalene to calm herself.
His brows rose as Ellen cast him a kind glance before turning her face to his little sister.
“As he said, I am quite tired, and I would love the opportunity to speak with you a little before you take your leave.”
Laurence watched as his sister’s annoyance faded upon hearing Ellen’s words, and she leaned in and gave Ellen another hug.
“I do not yet know you well, but I can already tell my brother does not deserve someone as kind and understanding as you,” Madalene praised.
Laurence raised a single brow at his sister’s pointed words, but he noted how Ellen only blushed at them.
“Go then, brother, attend to your business,” Madalene said with a sigh as she began to lead Ellen away. “I shall happily show my new sister her new home.”
Ellen turned her head, giving him one more hesitant look over her shoulder as Madalene led her through the receiving hall. He gave her a quick nod, a silent promise that she was safe. He noted how her brows tensed slightly, but then she gave a curt nod in return before shifting her gaze forward.
Laurence watched a moment longer, wishing there was something he could do that could instantly take away the fear still gripping her. Only time could do that, though, and with that in mind, he closed the front door of his mansion and walked to the plain carriage now parked in his drive.
He had sent Geoff and a few others on the search for the two servants right before he and Ellen had gone into the church, and was not at all surprised that his men had been quick to do his bidding.
“Where did you find them?” Laurence asked Geoff as he climbed down from the carriage’s driver’s seat.
“In a garden shed behind Perminton Manor, Your Grace,” Geoff answered, his expression grim. “Half-starved, chained up like dogs and looking like they do now.”
Laurence's lips twitched toward a snarl, but he willed himself to remain calm.
“And how do they look now?” he asked with great effort to sound patient.
In answer, Geoff opened the carriage door, and Laurence found two young, bruised faces staring tentatively back at him. He had to fight his facial muscles not to show his disgust as the couple of early twenty-something-year-olds clasped each other’s hands tightly and flinched away from him.
“Do not be frightened,” he said, willing his voice to be calm despite the rage burning through his blood. “He cannot hurt either of you any longer. You are under my protection now.”
The young man, Jacob, he presumed, tightened his grip on the young woman and put himself between her and Laurence.
Brave, Laurence silently mused.
“I admire your willingness to protect her, but I assure you it is not necessary,” he said aloud.
Jacob did not move from his protective stance as he said, “Respectfully, Your Grace, that remains to be proven.”
Laurence raised his chin, making sure to keep his gaze on Jacob and Jacob alone.
“I have married Lady Ellen Munro. It is by her request that you have been brought here,” he stated.
Jacob and Sarah turned to face one another at once, a mixture of shock and relief on both their bruised faces.
“Come,” Laurence commanded, nodding toward the mansion. “Let us get you inside. We will talk, then you both will be escorted somewhere safe where you can bathe, eat, and rest.”
Laurence turned, leaving it up to the two servants as to whether or not they followed, and walked around the side of the large mansion, following the long, tall outer walls until he reached the glass double doors that led into his study.
He didn’t take them through the main entrance, as he did not want to risk Ellen seeing them in such a state.
It was as he was pouring himself a drink that he heard theirs and Geoff’s footsteps, and a moment later they stepped inside.
Geoff, as always, stood tall and proud with his hands clasped before him and his sharp gaze straight forward, silently awaiting his next command.
Sarah and Jacob had their arms around each other, their eyes darting this way and that as if they still believed their rescue was some sort of trap.
“Where is she?” Sarah asked timidly, looking everywhere but at Laurence. “Is she...is she alright?”
Laurence thought of the faded bruises that still marred Ellen’s beautiful face.
“She is safe,” he said at last, choosing to not go into the details of Ellen’s own brutality. “She is at this moment with my sister, taking a tour of the estate. I assure you that no more harm will come to her or either of you.”
Jacob’s eyes finally settled on Laurence. Before Laurence could tell him to stop, the young man dropped to his knees and bowed his head, Sarah following suit.
“We are in debt, Your Grace,” Jacob said with his head still bowed.
Laurence cleared his throat, uncomfortable with such shows of devotion. He took to command as easily as breathing, but he never quite became accustomed to being bowed to. Especially when that person was on their knees.
“Get up,” he ordered, “and have a seat.”
The two obeyed silently, but Laurence remained standing.
“Is there a need for a physician?” he asked. “Any broken bones or open wounds?”
The two shook their heads quickly as their bruised faces remained tilted down to the floor.
“No, Your Grace,” they answered in unison.
“I do not want Her Grace to see either of you like this,” Laurence went on. “You will rest so you can heal and your bruises can fade, and only then will you be allowed to start your duties. Sarah, I assume you have no issue with resuming your position as Her Grace’s handmaid?”
Sarah’s eyes finally lifted from the floor, her gaze glimmering with hope.
“I would very much like that, Your Grace,” she answered, her voice a little breathless.
Laurence gave her a curt nod.
“And you, Jacob? I already have a valet, but I could use a dedicated messenger. Would you be willing to fill the position?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Jacob answered quickly, gratitude shining behind his black and blue eyes.
“Good,” Laurence stated, starting to pace the floor. “Now that we have that out of the way, let us talk about what you are going to do for me. I want your honesty. Did the Earl of Highcastle do this to you?”
The two servants flinched as they heard Benedict’s title, then nodded.
“He did, Your Grace,” Jacob answered as Sarah nodded, and her lips began to tremble.
“Be specific,” Laurence warned. “Did he give you those bruises himself, or did he command someone else to do his dirty work?”
Again, a moment of silence passed.
“He did it, Your Grace,” Jacob answered again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Why?” Laurence demanded.
“Because we helped our lady escape him, Your Grace,” Jacob answered. “We thought we would be safe, but…but he had someone watching us.”
Laurence felt his rage steadily build as Jacob and Sarah took turns explaining Benedict’s personal brand of cruelty, and by the time they had finished, he had to set down his glass for fear of crushing it in his grip.
There was a special place in hell, in his opinion, for men who enjoyed doling out abuses, and the more he heard, the more he felt inclined to get Benedict and send him for punishment much deserved.
“Geoff, take them to the cottage for now. See to it that they have plenty of food and clean clothing,” Laurence ordered. “Place a guard outside.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Geoff answered with a curt nod.
“You two,” Laurence said, turning his gaze to the young couple. He noted how both flinched at his tone, and he took a breath, willing his rage to get back in check.
“Go. Get some much-needed rest,” he said, far more gently than before. “Your lady—your duchess—will be most excited to see you, but I cannot allow her to do so until you are both fully healed.”
Laurence waited until Geoff had ushered Jacob and Sarah back outside before he rang the bell for his valet.
When the servant arrived, Laurence commanded him to go to the tavern in Blackford to collect Solomon, as he knew he had planned to spend the evening there before heading back to his estate in Wynter.
He would need to speak to Ellen soon. First, though, he needed to work off some of his rage, and there was no better remedy for that than boxing with his old friend.