“The man with the scar on his face,” Dickie gasped.
“Ravenwood.” Daedalus’s heart dropped to his feet.
“Aye. That’s the one. Now move yourarses. She wants the both of you. Now!”
10
Had she known crawling about in the shrubbery of a run-down country cottagewould be part of her day, Cordelia would have worn sturdier boots. Poor Andrew in his footman’s slippers had the worst of the situation. She’d sent her elderly coachman back to the road to wait and go for help should she and Andrew not return to the road within the hour.
The cottage was in the middle of a rather unkempt piece of property. Though old, the doors and windows appeared quite secure. Too secure, in point of fact, as many of the doors were chained closed and the windows were boarded up. They had stayed close enough behind to find this place, but not close enough to see how Ravenwood had persuaded Alice to enter the building. Daedalus’s niece was naïve, but she was no fool. At some point on this journey, she had to have realized her escort was up to nefarious purposes.
“I’ve found a way inside, miss.” Andrew said as he crept around the back corner of the cottage. “Rather dirty, I fear. Perhaps a coal chute?”
“Minerva, save us,” Cordelia spit out. The footman nodded and went back the way he came with her close on his heels.
The door was narrow. Thank goodness both she and Andrew were slight. The footman handed her his pistol and went down the narrow chute first. Cordelia tucked a pistol into each pocket of her dress and held the third in her lap. Once she reached the bottom, she handed Andrew his pistol and waved him off as he tried to sweep some of the coal from her person, an exercise in futility. They were in a cellar of some sort. She heard voices from somewhere on the far side of the cellar. Andrew nodded. He’d heard them as well.
“Andy, lad, is that you?” a distinctly Irish feminine voice called softly.
Cordelia hurried to where the footman stood trying to break the padlock on what looked to be some sort of animal stall. “Polly? Oh, Polly, where have you been?”
“Why ’ere, miss. Where else would I be? I don’t mind telling you I am that proud to see you. Told the others you’d find us.” Cordelia reached through the bars and clasped her friends hand.
“Where are the others, Polly?”
The fiery-haired woman pointed across the way.
Cordelia went to where the other two women, Tall Mary and Sally Mills, stood reaching out through the bars to her.
“Is our Bess well, miss?” Sally asked. “He cracked her something fierce when he tried to stop her.”
“She is with Mister Carrington-Bowles. She and Short Mary as well. They will be so happy to see you. Why did he bring you here? He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
“He was asking about your writing, miss,” Tall Mary said. “He found out about you writing them books, and said he’s going to tell everyone if you don’t marry his friend.”
“We didn’t tell him nofink,” Sally Mills said, tears in her eyes. “Honest, miss. He threatened to ship us off to Botany Bay, he did. But we didn’t tell.”
“He’s a right rotter he is, miss. Left us here with no food, no water.” Polly took a swig from the flask Andrew offered her before handing it back.
“No one is going to Botany Bay,” Cordelia said, her entire body shaking with fury. “We’re all going home, and Lord Ravenwood can go to—”
“Lord Ravenwood is the one who ain’t going anywhere, except to St. George’s where he will marry the spotty faced lump of a girl he’s been forced to court because no one else will have him, thanks to your brothers.”
Andrew crept behind the stairs, out of sight.
“I suspect the Duke of Chelmsford will have something to say about a kidnapper marrying his niece,” Cordelia said as she slipped one hand into her pocket.
“Kidnapper? What kidnapper? The owner of this property has been dead for years. I will leave you and yourladieslocked in here to rot. Breadmore will be unhappy, but there are other young girls who would kill to be a countess. You ruined my life, Cordelia. People would not do business with me. Gaming hells refused me. No decent family in Town would invite me anywhere until recently, and now it is too late. I need money, quite desperately, which accounts for the young lady dosed with laudanum upstairs. By the time she awakens she will be hopelessly compromised, and her father will hand her and her dowry over to me.”
Ravenwood had come down the stairs and now stood but a few feet from Cordelia. Andrew moved around behind the staircase.
“I didn’t ruin your life, Ravenwood. All you had to do was allow me to break the betrothal and move on with your life. You knew I would never be any man’s mistress. Especially yours.”
“Indeed. But apparently you were merely waiting for a better offer. The brother of a duke is a much better catch for a whore who writes filthy books about her perverted amorous pursuits. Oh, and rest assured, Iwillmake certain you are made known asAn Insatiable Lady.Perhaps I will suggest you ran away with your footman and your lightskirt friends to the Continent to live a debauched life on your ill-gotten gains. That should do your weak-hearted father inandensure no decent woman will ever marry your brothers. I rather like that story.” He glanced about and rubbed his hands together. “Did I forget anything?”
“You forgot that a spotty faced, dumpy young lady who drinks her father’s brandy nearly every day will require more than the pitiful dose of laudanum you gave her to render her insensible for long.”
The report of a pistol echoed around the cellar. Cordelia glanced up the stairs to see Lady Alice holding Andrew’s smoking pistol. Ravenwood lay writhing on the floor, screaming.
