Page 60 of An Unbending Lady for the Desperate Earl
Was that a price worth paying, for the sake of helping those who didn’t have the privilege of wealth? In all honesty, she couldn’t decide, as morality battled within her. It did seem like a small cost when so many would benefit, but that was only if one was able to forget that these high society ladies were human beings. They were not commodities that could be milked for their families’ money.
“You’ve had a long night, Victoria. I don’t need you to answer me now. Take all the time you need.” He gave a warm smile—the kind she had missed so very much. It made her think of the times they had laughed together as the dawn rose, outside Bow Street, with their hands clasped around a cup of hot tea. Solomon McCarthy had always been a serious man, which made the memories of his joviality all the more prominent in Victoria’s head.
“Do I have to go back to the shed?” she muttered miserably.
He shook his head, a wry chuckle escaping his lips. “No, of course not. You can stay here and get warm and think about my suggestion. No need to go back in the shed, now I know my own daughter has found her way back to me.”
I never went anywhere…She stared at him, puzzled. He had been the one to traipse across Britain in pursuit of this insane vengeance. He had been the one to give up everything. He had been the one to forsake Victoria and her mother, yet he was making it sound as though she was the one who had gone a-wandering.
“I’ve got some business to attend to, as you’ve somewhat disrupted our current operations. I don’t mind, as I’m just glad to have you here, but I need to put out some proverbial fires.” Her father got up and walked to Victoria’s side of the desk, where he paused. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. A small, sweet gesture that she hadn’t experienced since she was a child… and very unlike the Solomon that he had come to be, in those last weeks before he staged his death.
He exited the room without another word, leaving Victoria deep in thought. He looked like a different version of the man she had known, and he behaved like a different version of the man she had known, and that made her suspicious.
He was very insistent on me telling him how I came to be here, dressed as a lady. She realized that was where her wariness had stemmed from. He had been subtle about it, but repetition bred suspicion, and there had definitely been something fishy about him returning to that same question—a wariness of his own, no doubt terrified that his own daughter might blow his operation wide open.
But what do I do? I have a family. I have my mother. And what sort of investigator would I be, if I joined forces with a criminal?It pained her to call her father that, but she could find no other word as suitable. He was, for all intents and purposes, a criminal. He had broken the law. He had instructed men to capture innocent girls from their beds, where she was certain they’d put their filthy paws upon them. Seeking any opportunity to touch a pretty woman. Besides, if Benson’s grip was anything to go by, these men hadn’t been gentle when they had wrestled the girls from the sanctuary of their homes.
But he is my father…The other side of the coin. The one that reminded Victoria of happier times, and the motivations that had brought her into this line of employment. She had wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps and continue his legacy.
She sighed heavily, tears pricking her eyes. “But this is a legacy I want no part of,” she whispered to the empty room. Violence and cruelty were never the first option for her. Solomon himself had instructed her to behave that way. But her father seemed to have forgotten that.
She wiped her eyes, as a sob caught in the back of her throat. Often, she had prayed to have her father restored to her. Often, she had cursed the heavens for taking him away, offering everything within her power for the chance to see him again. But not like this. No, not like this.
Perhaps, it would have been better if you had stayed dead.
Chapter 26
Christian brought his horse to a pause and lifted his finger to his lips, as he cast a pointed look at Benedict. They had followed the forest path defiantly and had finally been rewarded with the sight of a dilapidated farmhouse. Christian caught a glimpse of the broken house and its courtyard, surrounded by countless outhouses, through the dense foliage of the woodland around it.
“What do you see?” Benedict led his horse up to Christian’s side.
“There are men wandering around.” The sun had come up an hour ago, giving them a full view of the scene beyond. Mist rolled through the undergrowth like heavy smoke, while dew drops fell from the leaves overhead. One splashed against Christian’s neck, cold and startling, but he remained still. He was too focused on what was going on in that farmhouse.
Benedict squinted. “There’s a barn over there, with men outside.”
“The farmhouse looks like it was singed in a fire. They’re probably using the barn for shelter instead. It looks intact, aside from a few holes in the roof.” Christian observed the layout as closely as he could, wondering if Victoria was in the compound somewhere.
Did you lead us here?He could have retired, at Benedict’s insistence, but he had refused time and time again. Now, he had to believe he had refused for a purpose—because Victoria had been calling to him, guiding him here through the unspoken connection between his heart and hers.
“We can’t attack now,” Benedict said. “With only the two of us, they’ll overwhelm us in no time.”
Christian bristled with frustration. “You think we ought to wait?”
“At least until the officers from Bow Street arrive,” Benedict replied, with a note of reluctance. “They’ll find my note on the way-marker and follow us down this path, but we’ve no way of knowing how far off they might be. Either way, we’ve got to wait. It’d be a massacre for us if we rode in now.”
“You believe them to be armed?” Christian hadn’t thought of that, though he supposed it made sense. If they were out here, in this peculiar place, then it stood to reason that they would want to defend their territory.
Benedict nodded. “I think it highly unlikely that they’re not.”
“I agree, though I wish I could say I didn’t.” Christian huffed a breath between clenched teeth. “And… I agree that we will have to wait. I have seen men ride rashly into battle with fewer numbers, and we both know what the outcome of that is. Very rarely do they emerge the victors.”
“I don’t see any women, though.” Benedict frowned, leaning forward in the saddle to get a better look at the woodland-shrouded farmhouse and its accompanying buildings.
“They are likely hidden away, if they are here at all.” Christian glanced across the men he could see and counted no less than twelve. Who they were, and why they were here, he didn’t know. They had to have something to do with the kidnappings, but he had never expected to see so many. They had been under the impression that there were only two culprits.
“Someone must be running this operation,” Benedict muttered, his eyes glinting with anger. “And, by the looks of it, it’s a much larger operation than we thought.”
Christian grimaced. “I was just thinking that exact same thing.”
