Page 9 of Wicked Designs
“I seriously doubt you have anything useful to teach me, Your Grace.” She dipped into a shallow mocking curtsey before she darted back into her room, slamming the door in her wake. The scraping sound of a vanity table being dragged in front of the door followed seconds later. He grinned and then started to whistle softly.
Let her wait. He certainly needed a few minutes to regain control, especially below his waistline.
“What do you mean, abducted?”
Albert Parr’s townhouse echoed with Thomas Blankenship’s fury. Albert sat at his desk, forefinger and thumb rubbing his eyes as he did his best to remain calmin front of his business partner, a man he was still heavily indebted to.
“It’s all in the letter.” He pushed the paper toward Blankenship, who snapped it up. The man stood before Albert with his chest heaving, his double chin wobbly against his jugular, a sight that should have lessened Albert’s fear—but didn’t. Quite the opposite. Blankenship had revealed the demon inside him with claws, salivating teeth and cold fire churning in his black eyes.
Albert sighed. Last night he’d arrived at Chessley House to retrieve Emily. The baron’s daughter, Anne, informed him that Emily never arrived. Albert had been concerned immediately. He hadn’t thought she would miss out on an occasion to see her friend, but maybe he’d been mistaken and Emily had decided to become difficult.
Perhaps she’d decided to avoid Blankenship and sought refuge with a friend. Not that she had many, at least none of whom he knew.
It wasn’t until he arrived home, exhausted and irritated at Emily’s stunt, that he had learned the truth. His butler handed him the letter left by the jarvey he’d hired to drive Emily to the ball. The weary driver confirmed that five men had abducted her, but refused to part with any more details unless he received some reward. Albert grimaced and slapped several coins into the driver’s wrinkled palm.
The story the coachman told was fantastical. His innocent niece had managed to trick the rogues and nearly escape twice. As he heard the tale, Albert imagined Emily as some sort of heroine in a grand adventure.It seemed she had more strength of character than he’d credited her with, but once the notion ceased to be amusing, apprehension set in.
He’d recognized the sloping cursive style of the letter at once, even though the letter was vague in its details and unsigned. After several dealings with the Duke of Essex, Albert had become intimately familiar with his unusual penmanship. But it was the letter’s contents that were most upsetting. Essex had stated that he knew about the money Albert had stolen and that he had taken “repayment” of a kind. He meant Emily of course.
Albert’s brow furrowed as he studied the note again, ignoring Blankenship, who paced back and forth like a caged lion. If Essex sullied her reputation, she would have every right to demand marriage and that would mean… Dread filled his limbs. If Essex became an in-law, Albert would forever be at the man’s mercy. That was assuming he could even get the Duke within a mile of the nearest church.
No, the duke wouldn’t marry Emily. Albert had no way of forcing him, and Essex knew it. Emily was ruined, and without her he had no way to repay Blankenship. Albert struggled for breath as he fought off panic. “Dear God.”
“What?” Blankenship growled.
“Nothing. I’m weary and this abduction has upset me.” The last thing he would do would be to confess his fears to Blankenship. Everything depended on getting Emily married to him. The side deal they had arranged would ensure that Emily’s inheritance, moneytied up in Albert’s brother’s shipping company, would go to Blankenship and all of Albert’s debts would disappear.
Blankenship stopped his pacing. “How positive are you that it is the Duke of Essex who holds her?”
Albert looked down at his desk, avoiding the gleam in the other man’s eyes.
“I would recognize this handwriting anywhere.”
Blankenship digested this before replying. “What would cause him to take the girl?”
“I owe Essex twenty thousand pounds. He invested it with me, but the investment fell short. I used his funds to repay you for part of the debt I owe. He’s discovered his money is gone.” Albert fought the urge to set his head on the desk and remain still until he died. “The man has a violent temper and now he’s taken Emily as revenge.”
Blankenship studied the letter, his nose and cheeks reddened with irritation. “Why would a duke risk the rumors of thetonover such a meager amount? He has ten times that tucked away in investments, and his annual income makes this amount laughable.”
“It is just the sort of thing he would do. He’s one of those rogues, that group that meets at the Berkley’s club every month.”
“Yes, yes, the League of Rogues, or whoever they are. Spoiled paramours and nothing more. They do not matter. I want the girl returned to me. She is mine!” Blankenship snarled with such venom that Albert slid back a foot in his chair.
“How do you propose I get her back? The duke hastaken her. Her reputation is ruined, even if he hasn’t yet touched her.”
“Demand he send her back at once.” Blankenship then tossed the letter onto Albert’s desk.
“Even if I challenged him to a duel, he’d probably laugh it off. He has what he wants now, and he won’t give her back—not until he’s satisfied she’s beyond redemption in the eyes of theton.”
“You don’t want to have her back?” The deadly chill in Blankenship’s eyes unsettled Albert. “What about our bargain? Your debts to me would be satisfied when the girl is mine.”
Albert had not regretted the uneasy partnership between them, until now. Something evil, something black and cruel, floated in the other man’s gaze and put him on edge.
While Essex was rumored to be a grand seducer, Blankenship’s reputation soiled the walls of London’s brothels as the nastiest man alive. Women came away from his bed with bruises and shattered souls. Albert wasn’t a man to judge others about their bed sport, but knowing that Emily would be one of Blankenship’s permanent victims had unsettled his stomach to the point of queasiness. Still what was he to do? The debts he owed could have both him and Emily out on the streets in minutes if their owners demanded payment. At least her marriage to Blankenship would keep a roof over both their heads.
If Essex had her, perhaps it was for the best for everyone, including his own soul.
“I have no interest in her return. I was willing to sellher to you, wasn’t I? As I see it, now she has a chance of catching a duke’s eye, either as wife or mistress, and I will soon be rid of her.” It was the truth. Keeping that girl fed and clothed had been a costly endeavor for an indebted man. It wasn’t that he disliked her, but he had little choice if he was to keep the creditors at bay.
