Page 47 of The Gentleman's Seduction
“Yes, my lord?” Baird glanced at her and hastily looked away.
“Take this woman upstairs to my bedchamber. I want her stripped and bathed. She is to wait for me there.” Without another word, Stamford walked away.
Livvy and the butler exchanged glances. “This way…Miss…”
“Hartwell. Livvy Hartwell.” She raised her chin, desperate to hide her fear.
“Miss Hartwell.” Baird’s eyes were apologetic as he waved for her to follow him. She lifted her skirts and followed him upstairs. When the butler showed her to his master’s room, he kept his eyes downcast.
“A maid will be up shortly to assist you. A footman will fill the tub.”
Livvy swallowed her response. It would do neither of them any good to tell him she wasn’t going to strip and bathe. She waited for him to close the door, and then she turned the key in the lock after she heard his footsteps recede.
Stamford may prey on other women, but he would not prey on her. She faced the room and noticed a heavy writing desk. She dragged it across the room and wedged it against the door as best she could. Then she rested a brief moment, her stays pressing tight against her ribs, making it hard to breathe.
There was a wide window behind her, and it gave her a sudden idea. She rushed to the window, opening it wide. She dug through the armoire until she found extra bed linens. She worked to knot the sheets together, then dropped one end of the makeshift rope down the side of the house. It worked for Lady Leticia in a Gothic novel, so it just might work for her. Of course, she wouldn’t use it the way Leticia did, but it would serve a purpose all the same.
She tied the other end to a metal pole at the base of the windows used to hold back the curtains. She feared there was no way her rope would carry her, but if she couldtrickStamford into believing she had escaped, it would give her time to slip away while Stamford’s focus was elsewhere. She slipped under the bed to wait and prayed her plan would work.
16
Martin gazed unseeing at the snow falling outside his study window. Stacks of letters lay unanswered, their words left unread. His cup of tea, hot only a short time ago, was now tepid. The room was icy despite the fire some kind footman had lit for him during his distraction.
His happiness, what little of it he’d claimed in the last few days, was gone. It was like losing his mother and his home all over again. If he didn’t know better, he might have sworn his black heart was broken clean through. If it was, it would never heal.
My Livvy is gone. Gone because I was too much of a coward to fight for her.Regret weighed so heavily upon him that it was hard to draw in a breath without his chest aching.
He knew his servants would be worried, and his clients’ letters needed answering, but Martin couldn’t find the strength or desire to care about anything at the moment.
His thoughts were miles away, on Livvy and how she’d been so brave to touch the elephant at the frost fair. How she had made him do it as well and face his fear. She’d brought out the best in him over and over.
And yet I was afraid of what she made me feel.
He rubbed his eyes, suddenly very weary.
“Sir?” Harris’s voice came through the closed door.
He turned away from the window. “Yes?”
“I hate to disturb you, sir, but Mr. Hartwell is here.”
“I will not see him,” Martin growled.
“Sir.” Harris’s voice was louder now and more insistent. “He’s been badly beaten. He told me he needs your help. Someone named Stamford has kidnapped Miss Hartwell.”
“What?” Martin leapt out of his chair so fast he knocked it over. He opened his door and faced Harris. The butler nodded toward the front door. Edwin Hartwell stood just inside the doorway, hat in hand, his face swollen around one eye.
“Livvy’s been taken? What the devil happened?” Martin demanded.
“She’d only been home a few hours. She was sleeping andheshowed up, demanding to take her for a debt. It seems word of your arrangement with her has spread around town.” Edwin’s face darkened.
“A debt? I paid him for that debt. He has no right to her. Why didn’t you stop him?” Martin wanted to blacken Edwin’s other eye.
Edwin stared at him, his face stony. “I refused his demands, and the bastard hit me hard. When I awoke, they were gone. I would’ve done anything to protect her.”
“You didn’t protect her fromme!” Martin snapped. “How was I any different than Stamford?” He hated the truth of those words, but he couldn’t deny them either.
Hartwell looked at the floor. “My shame for not standing up for her more with you is what drove me to stand up to Stamford. But you are not the same kind of man as him. I saw the clothes and books you sent back with her. I saw her face when she talked about you. My daughter loves you, and I think perhaps you might love her as well. Whatever you feel for me, hatred, loathing, I am sure I deserve in full measure. You must understand that everything I did was to protect my own family. I was not lining my pockets with your family’s money—I was keeping my own family in our home. It doesn’t erase the villainy of my actions toward you, but what I did, it was for Livvy. If you at all care for her, you must help her now. Please, I’m begging you.” Edwin’s eyes were full of desperation. “What I did to you was beyond despicable, but please don’t let Livvy suffer for my sins. I fear what Stamford will do with her.”
