Well, it would have been easy to ignore him if he hadn’t started to use his weight to push her against the wall. “Stop it!” she hissed.
“Stop what?” he asked innocently.
“You’re pushing me.”
“You must be imagining things. I haven’t moved.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’re almost there anyway.” He pushed her again. She ground her jaw and accepted it. If this was his idea of revenge, then it was pathetic. She’d let him have it. It was simply childish. He’d certainly lost his touch over the years.
“We’re here!” Lady Bradford said cheerfully. Good. The faster she was able to get away from him the better.
Robert jumped out to help the other women out of the carriage first. When it was her turn, he held his hand out for her and she reluctantly took it. Once down she straightened her skirts and froze. Was there a draft?
Chapter 14
“Elizabeth! Back in the carriage at once!” her mother hissed.
“What?” she mumbled as her mother and Lady Bradford practically shoved her inside. She fell back on the seat. When she looked down she couldn't help but gasp in shock. There was a long tear down her skirt right on the side where Robert had sat, showing her leg in all its glory. Her eyes shot up to his. He looked very amused and a bit smug.
“We’ll have to go home and change,” Lady Bradford said, sounding disappointed.
Elizabeth held up her hand. “No, please. I refuse to wreck everyone’s night over my carelessness. I must have caught the dress on a nail, a very sharp one from the looks of it.” Her gaze shot to Robert, who looked oddly triumphant. “I apologize,” she said tightly.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked, looking torn between going with her and enjoying the ball of the year.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. Please go on. I’ll return as quickly as possible,” she said quietly. She was upset, but she didn’t want Robert to know. This was her favorite dress. Well, it hadn’t been a week ago, but that was not the point. He was going to pay for this.
Robert was the last one to move back. “Enjoy your evening.” He winked before turning to leave. Oh, she would enjoy it all right. She started plotting her revenge as soon as the carriage rolled away.
She was just formulating the perfect plan for revenge when the carriage came to an abrupt halt, sending her flying forward into the opposite seat. “Henry?” she called to the driver, worried that something had happened to the kind man that she’d know since she was a child. A gunshot rang out followed by another. “Henry!”
Seconds later the door jerked open, drawing her attention to the man standing there smiling at her. “Good evening, my dear, pleasant night for an elopement, isn’t it?”
Oh no, not him. She thought she’d rid herself of him last year when he’d been chased out of London by debt collectors. This was very bad. He was the worst sort of fortune hunter there was. He was also cruel and known to do whatever it took to get what he wanted and right now he wanted to force her into marriage. She was left with no other recourse but to pull back her fist and let it fly and that’s exactly what she did.
* * *
Robert couldn’t keep the satisfied grin off his face as he paced the ballroom. He ignored the eager widows sending him inviting glances, eager to share his bed, the bored wives sending him similar looks, the husband hunting school girls willing to do anything to be settled and kept an eye on the entrance, anticipating Elizabeth’s arrival. He couldn’t wait. He was so damn giddy. This was going to be priceless. He almost wished that he could have seen her face when she realized that her wardrobe had been completely cleaned out except for a brand new gaudy looking gown that was hideously puke orange. She'd have no choice but to wear it and make his night. Life was good.
As he walked past the entrance steps to the ballroom a commotion in the foyer broke out. Footmen came running as they yelled for more guns. Robert didn’t think, he just ran. Something in his gut told him to move his ass and he did.
“Get them in the study and place a man at the door!” Lord Blackward ordered. "Get every man armed and call the magistrate. Someone go to Whites and get Lord Norwood immediately!”
“Get a surgeon!” a man yelled from the study.
Dread filled him. He ran past the footmen and a stunned Lord Blackward and followed the trail of blood soaking the expensive rug into the study. He saw her bloodied light green skirts almost immediately.
“Oh please, God, no,” he mumbled as he rushed inside
* * *
“Henry, relax!” he heard Elizabeth say. “Are you okay, my Lady?” Henry asked, trying to sit up on the dainty couch.
“Yes, you did a very good job,” Elizabeth said, giving the servant a warm reassuring smile as she fussed over him.
As soon as he was close enough, Robert grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her to her feet so that he could look her over. The front of her dress was covered in blood, but he couldn’t see any obvious wounds.
“Where are you hurt?” he demanded. When she didn’t answer him fast enough he shook her and yelled it. He hadn't realized his hands were trembling until he saw her shaking.
“M-my hand hurts, that’s all,” she promised. She showed him the back of her hand. It was already swollen. His eyes moved to her messy hair, a few cuts on her bare shoulder and to where her dress was ripped, exposing too much cle**age for his sanity. He removed his jacket and placed it on her shoulders.
“What happened?” he demanded.
She dropped back to her knees, pushing her arms through the sleeves so she could tend to Henry. “I’m so sorry, Lady Elizabeth. I didn’t know what they was about until it was too late.”
“ Shh , nonsense. You did a fine job, Henry. A fine job. Now you just relax and let us help you.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. Robert could tell the man was in a great deal of pain, but didn't want to distress Elizabeth any further. “Get him some brandy,” he barked out at a footman. He looked back at Elizabeth. “I. Want. A. Name,” he bit out each word evenly.
“Edward Thompson, he’s been after m’lady for a while he has. Tried to take her tonight. She put up a fight, she did,” Henry said proudly, answering him before Elizabeth got a chance.
He knew the bastard. They'd attended school together. He was also a dead man. No one touched his minx and lived. He grabbed a gun from a passing footman and extra shot. “Lord Blackward, would you happen to have a good horse that I could borrow?”
“Robert, what are you doing?” Elizabeth asked.
“I’m going to kill Edward Thompson, of course.”
* * *
“Are you sure this is where he is?” Lord Blackward whispered over his shoulder. Robert nodded to the older man. “You heard the landlady. He’s here.”
“How do you want to handle this?” Lord Blackward asked. He was practically on top of Robert. He had to shift again and step aside just for some breathing room.
“Have your men block the front and back doors. We’ll go in with a few men and grab him.”
“You weren’t serious about killing him, were you?” Lord Blackward asked, shifting nervously.
Robert double-checked his gun, making sure that it was loaded and ready. “If he tries to flee, I’ll shoot him dead before he can so much as take a step outside. Otherwise, I’m sure Lord Norwood would like to handle the matter personally. The man did try to abduct his daughter after all.”
“Right, right. Let’s go.” Lord Blackward nudged him. Robert led the way into the small rooming house.
“This way, sir,” the landlady said, gesturing for the men to follow her to the second floor.
“Knock on the door,” Robert ordered softly.
A loud whimper was the answer. After a slight pause, Robert opened the door. Holding his candle high along with his pistol, he walked into the room. The smell of fresh vomit and sweat reached his nose, nearly making him gag.
The whimpering continued. He looked at the cot only to find it empty. More light filled the room as men entered behind him, making the room nearly as bright as day.
“Stop what?” he asked innocently.
“You’re pushing me.”
“You must be imagining things. I haven’t moved.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’re almost there anyway.” He pushed her again. She ground her jaw and accepted it. If this was his idea of revenge, then it was pathetic. She’d let him have it. It was simply childish. He’d certainly lost his touch over the years.
“We’re here!” Lady Bradford said cheerfully. Good. The faster she was able to get away from him the better.
Robert jumped out to help the other women out of the carriage first. When it was her turn, he held his hand out for her and she reluctantly took it. Once down she straightened her skirts and froze. Was there a draft?
Chapter 14
“Elizabeth! Back in the carriage at once!” her mother hissed.
“What?” she mumbled as her mother and Lady Bradford practically shoved her inside. She fell back on the seat. When she looked down she couldn't help but gasp in shock. There was a long tear down her skirt right on the side where Robert had sat, showing her leg in all its glory. Her eyes shot up to his. He looked very amused and a bit smug.
“We’ll have to go home and change,” Lady Bradford said, sounding disappointed.
Elizabeth held up her hand. “No, please. I refuse to wreck everyone’s night over my carelessness. I must have caught the dress on a nail, a very sharp one from the looks of it.” Her gaze shot to Robert, who looked oddly triumphant. “I apologize,” she said tightly.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked, looking torn between going with her and enjoying the ball of the year.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. Please go on. I’ll return as quickly as possible,” she said quietly. She was upset, but she didn’t want Robert to know. This was her favorite dress. Well, it hadn’t been a week ago, but that was not the point. He was going to pay for this.
Robert was the last one to move back. “Enjoy your evening.” He winked before turning to leave. Oh, she would enjoy it all right. She started plotting her revenge as soon as the carriage rolled away.
She was just formulating the perfect plan for revenge when the carriage came to an abrupt halt, sending her flying forward into the opposite seat. “Henry?” she called to the driver, worried that something had happened to the kind man that she’d know since she was a child. A gunshot rang out followed by another. “Henry!”
Seconds later the door jerked open, drawing her attention to the man standing there smiling at her. “Good evening, my dear, pleasant night for an elopement, isn’t it?”
Oh no, not him. She thought she’d rid herself of him last year when he’d been chased out of London by debt collectors. This was very bad. He was the worst sort of fortune hunter there was. He was also cruel and known to do whatever it took to get what he wanted and right now he wanted to force her into marriage. She was left with no other recourse but to pull back her fist and let it fly and that’s exactly what she did.
* * *
Robert couldn’t keep the satisfied grin off his face as he paced the ballroom. He ignored the eager widows sending him inviting glances, eager to share his bed, the bored wives sending him similar looks, the husband hunting school girls willing to do anything to be settled and kept an eye on the entrance, anticipating Elizabeth’s arrival. He couldn’t wait. He was so damn giddy. This was going to be priceless. He almost wished that he could have seen her face when she realized that her wardrobe had been completely cleaned out except for a brand new gaudy looking gown that was hideously puke orange. She'd have no choice but to wear it and make his night. Life was good.
As he walked past the entrance steps to the ballroom a commotion in the foyer broke out. Footmen came running as they yelled for more guns. Robert didn’t think, he just ran. Something in his gut told him to move his ass and he did.
“Get them in the study and place a man at the door!” Lord Blackward ordered. "Get every man armed and call the magistrate. Someone go to Whites and get Lord Norwood immediately!”
“Get a surgeon!” a man yelled from the study.
Dread filled him. He ran past the footmen and a stunned Lord Blackward and followed the trail of blood soaking the expensive rug into the study. He saw her bloodied light green skirts almost immediately.
“Oh please, God, no,” he mumbled as he rushed inside
* * *
“Henry, relax!” he heard Elizabeth say. “Are you okay, my Lady?” Henry asked, trying to sit up on the dainty couch.
“Yes, you did a very good job,” Elizabeth said, giving the servant a warm reassuring smile as she fussed over him.
As soon as he was close enough, Robert grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her to her feet so that he could look her over. The front of her dress was covered in blood, but he couldn’t see any obvious wounds.
“Where are you hurt?” he demanded. When she didn’t answer him fast enough he shook her and yelled it. He hadn't realized his hands were trembling until he saw her shaking.
“M-my hand hurts, that’s all,” she promised. She showed him the back of her hand. It was already swollen. His eyes moved to her messy hair, a few cuts on her bare shoulder and to where her dress was ripped, exposing too much cle**age for his sanity. He removed his jacket and placed it on her shoulders.
“What happened?” he demanded.
She dropped back to her knees, pushing her arms through the sleeves so she could tend to Henry. “I’m so sorry, Lady Elizabeth. I didn’t know what they was about until it was too late.”
“ Shh , nonsense. You did a fine job, Henry. A fine job. Now you just relax and let us help you.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. Robert could tell the man was in a great deal of pain, but didn't want to distress Elizabeth any further. “Get him some brandy,” he barked out at a footman. He looked back at Elizabeth. “I. Want. A. Name,” he bit out each word evenly.
“Edward Thompson, he’s been after m’lady for a while he has. Tried to take her tonight. She put up a fight, she did,” Henry said proudly, answering him before Elizabeth got a chance.
He knew the bastard. They'd attended school together. He was also a dead man. No one touched his minx and lived. He grabbed a gun from a passing footman and extra shot. “Lord Blackward, would you happen to have a good horse that I could borrow?”
“Robert, what are you doing?” Elizabeth asked.
“I’m going to kill Edward Thompson, of course.”
* * *
“Are you sure this is where he is?” Lord Blackward whispered over his shoulder. Robert nodded to the older man. “You heard the landlady. He’s here.”
“How do you want to handle this?” Lord Blackward asked. He was practically on top of Robert. He had to shift again and step aside just for some breathing room.
“Have your men block the front and back doors. We’ll go in with a few men and grab him.”
“You weren’t serious about killing him, were you?” Lord Blackward asked, shifting nervously.
Robert double-checked his gun, making sure that it was loaded and ready. “If he tries to flee, I’ll shoot him dead before he can so much as take a step outside. Otherwise, I’m sure Lord Norwood would like to handle the matter personally. The man did try to abduct his daughter after all.”
“Right, right. Let’s go.” Lord Blackward nudged him. Robert led the way into the small rooming house.
“This way, sir,” the landlady said, gesturing for the men to follow her to the second floor.
“Knock on the door,” Robert ordered softly.
A loud whimper was the answer. After a slight pause, Robert opened the door. Holding his candle high along with his pistol, he walked into the room. The smell of fresh vomit and sweat reached his nose, nearly making him gag.
The whimpering continued. He looked at the cot only to find it empty. More light filled the room as men entered behind him, making the room nearly as bright as day.
