Page 32 of An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl
“Of course.”
“Please do not marry Sir John Regis, no matter what he offers your father. Avoid him at all costs. I heard him talking of you, and it made me sick to my stomach. If you believe in love, then find it for yourself. Accept nothing less,” Victoria urged.
Miss Longacre’s eyes widened. “I will, McCarthy. Indeed… though you must not tell a soul; I have already been blessed with love.”
“You have?” Another startling revelation that left Victoria’s head spinning. How could this young lady, at ten-and-eight, have achieved so much more, romantically speaking, than she had done in her three-and-twenty? Why, Victoria did not even know what to make of the idea that there could be seedlings of love between her and Christian. The prospect seemed more frightening to her than a toothless brute, about to knock seven bells out of her.
Miss Longacre nodded. “The engagement is to be announced tomorrow.”
“Who is the lucky bridegroom?”
She chuckled. “I would not want to ruin the surprise. You will have to wait and see.”
Knowing the house would soon awaken, Victoria didn’t want to linger any longer, no matter how curious she may have been about this mystery bridegroom. And so, with a cursory farewell and a promise to return Miss Longacre’s dress, Victoria headed out of the bedchamber and hurried along the corridor. She paused at the top of the staircase to make sure there was no one around and scampered down them.
Trying to remember the layout of the house, she headed for the ballroom, knowing there was a doorway there that led out into the gardens. Tiptoeing through the remnant chaos of last night, she spied Sir John and Lord Mobberley, still sound asleep in the chairs where she had last seen them.
Is it you? Did you leave her be because you were sleeping?She huffed out an exasperated sigh and stole out of the back door, feeling the bracing cold of the morning upon her cheeks as she went in search of Christian. The truth was, they were no closer to apprehending these kidnappers. And that irked her, more than she could possibly say. She ought to have been further along by now, but every surety had turned into a doubt. And it felt as though she no longer had any solid ground to work from.
“Christian?” she hissed. Morning fog rolled across the lawn, giving an air of eeriness to the landscape. It parted like liquid as she moved through it, seeking out her partner.
Seedlings of love… She had never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at me…Victoria had a stern word with herself, to chase those absurd thoughts away. He may be an Earl, in charge of his own destiny, but she didn’t belong in his world. She spent most of her time knee deep in the muck and filth of London, righting wrongs and not caring what others thought of her. To allow herself to fall for Christian, and to, maybe, be adored in return, would put her in a spotlight that she did not want.
“Over here!” Christian called, his voice echoing from behind a high wall of shrubbery. It took her a moment to find him in that labyrinth of foliage. When she finally did, she saw him huddled in a sheltered alcove in a miniature walled garden, with a fishpond in the center where sleek koi twisted and turned beneath.
“Why didn’t you steal a coat from the house before you came out? There were plenty of them lying about,” she chided softly, noting how violently he shivered.
“Because I am not a common thief,” he smirked, rubbing his arms to warm them up.
“Come, we should get you back to your home before you really do catch your death out here.” Going to him, she helped him up from his cramped seat and, together, they headed away from the townhouse by way of the back gate.
Victoria kept her eyes open for any sign that there had been miscreants in the alley, but there were no unwarranted scrapes or footprints or equine detritus to suggest it.
They didn’t have to walk far before they happened upon Christian’s personal carriage. The driver had been instructed to wait, and appeared to have fallen asleep upon the bench, wrapped in no less than four layers of thick blankets.
At least he had the right idea.The driver jolted awake at the gentle touch of Christian’s hand upon his arm.
“Take me home, Harrison,” Christian said.
“Aye, My Lord. As you like.” The driver shifted in his seat as Christian and Victoria climbed inside the carriage. A moment later, Victoria heard the snap of reins, and the carriage trundled off toward Christian’s residence. A place she remembered fondly.
She wondered if she ought to ask Christian to take her to her mother’s house first, but seeing his chilled state, and his pale features, she decided against it. Before she could rest, she needed to make sure that Christian suffered no ill effects of being out in the cold all night.
“Did you hear anything whilst you were in the gardens?” She broke the silence, letting the weary Christian lean into her as they sat side-by-side upon the squab.
He chuckled oddly. “The milkman.”
“The milkman?”
He laughed harder. “I thought it was the kidnapper. In fact, I convinced myself that he had left a warning at the back door, for the Whitfields. But when I went to check, I found nothing but two urns of fresh milk.”
Victoria snorted. “Imagine if you had jumped on him, as he made his way to the house.”
“I would be the one being thrown in jail.” He grinned and peered up at her. “Did you hear anything from within the house?”
Victoria met his gaze. “No. Miss Longacre slept soundly.”
“Why do you think the kidnappers didn’t come for her?”
