Darke London (10 page)

“Where is Pip?” she asked loudly, determined not to be cowed by his menacing aura. When he didn’t reply, she continued, “Have you kidnapped him? Prevented him from contacting me? Answer me, Sir Thaddeus. Where is my husband?”

“He is not your husband,” Thaddeus suddenly snapped. “He is engaged to another woman. Has been for the past two years. He had no business running off with you.”

Nellie gaped at him as the carriage jounced over the rough road. The blinds were shut, and she had no idea where they were going. “What nonsense. Pip would have told me if he was affianced to someone else. He wouldn’t have hidden something as important as that from me.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Sir Thaddeus arched one of his thick eyebrows. “You obviously don’t know my son very well, or you’d be aware that he can say or do anything to please himself, including forgetting the childhood sweetheart he is bound to marry.”

Engaged to a childhood sweetheart? Could Pip have concealed such momentous knowledge from her simply to persuade her to run away with him? “No, it’s not true. It can’t be true.” But her protest was fainter this time. Pip
was
in the habit of construing the world to suit his purposes. It was quite possible that in his mind he’d dismissed this earlier attachment as unimportant.

“The marriage contracts have already been drawn up. The nuptials are planned for this spring.” Sir Thaddeus’s relentless voice drove home each point.

“He cannot get married,” she protested. “He’s already married to me.”

“It appears my son would have done anything to get into your petticoats, but why he would stand up in front of a vicar with you beggars belief.” He sneered at her in undisguised disgust. “No matter. Every error can be solved if one has sufficient determination. You are one mistake who will not be allowed to blight my son’s future.”

“No, no, I’m no error.” She gouged her fingernails into the upholstery of the seat as nausea spiralled through her stomach. No wonder Pip had been slow to arrange their wedding and had only done so at her repeated requests. At the time she’d thought he was merely worried about the extra expense of procuring a marriage licence, but now she knew there was a solid reason for his reluctance—he had not been free to marry her. He was promised to another. He had lied to her most grievously…

“My son had suffered a mental collapse when he eloped with you. He cannot be held accountable for his actions. A divorce will be easily obtained.” His basilisk eyes held her captive. He was so contemptuous, so sure of himself. He had her beaten, and he wanted the sadistic satisfaction of watching her squirm.

“I’m sorry for the woman he was engaged to.” She cleared her throat. “But—but everything has altered. Pip and I are married, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You must accept that.”

Thaddeus drew back. “I accept nothing from a brazen hussy. You think I’ll let you bring shame upon my family? What kind of imbecile do you take me for?”

The threatening hiss in his voice ought to have been sufficient warning, but hot anger flooded her veins, loosening her tongue.

“Not an imbecile but a bully, Sir Thaddeus. An oppressor of the worst kind. You’ve been persecuting Pip all his life. Why do you think he ran away and suffered a nervous collapse? Because of you, because of your constant bullying and hectoring. Pip is afraid of you, but I’m not. I shall stand by Pip, no matter what, and I’ll help him to break free of you. He did it once, he can do it again.”

“Insolent slut! You dare to defy me?” Flecks of spittle flew from his mouth. “Phillip wants nothing more to do with you. He waited until you were out before running back to me, pleading with me to help him out of this mess. He’s tired of your coarse manners and vulgar behaviour.” The corners of his lips lifted in a sneer. “I’ll admit you’re a toothsome wench, but my son requires more when it comes to choosing a wife. Now, I’m prepared to give you a generous sum of money if you cooperate with my lawyers in the divorce and never bother my son again. Fifty pounds should be more than sufficient to compensate you for any inconvenience.”

Nellie sucked in a breath. Her head reeled as though she’d been struck with a hammer, but her anger seethed.

“Take me to Pip. Let me talk to him in private.”

“He has no wish to see you.”

“So you say, but I’ll not agree to anything until I’ve spoken with him.”

Thaddeus expelled a derisive hiss. Under the brim of his cap his eyes took on a sinister sheen. “Foolish ninny, I knew you’d be too greedy to go quietly. You leave me no choice.” Lifting his cane, he banged on the roof of the carriage. The driver cracked his whip, the horses picked up speed, and the carriage jerked forward.

Nellie clung to her seat as the vehicle careened around a corner. “Where—where are you taking me? I demand you stop at once and let me off.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I did that? London at night is a dangerous place for a young woman on her own, full of pickpockets, cutthroats and ruffians. It would be very remiss of me to throw you into such danger.”

The silky menace in his tone sent fright spearing through her heart. She tried desperately to cling to common sense. They were riding in the Ormond carriage with their coat of arms on display. Surely Sir Thaddeus wouldn’t risk his carriage being involved in a criminal act? Too late she realised the folly of her hot words. His perverse antagonism demanded her subservient capitulation, and instead of arguing she should have pretended to do his bidding until an opportunity for escape presented itself.

“Sir Thaddeus…” She gulped, her throat constricting painfully. “I—I have reconsidered your generous offer. If you will just let me go I promise I—”

“Oh, it’s too late for that. I can’t have you hanging in the background, a threat to my family’s future. God knows, I’ve made my sacrifices, marrying that vulgar cow for the good of the family, and I won’t have my son throwing all that away on
you
.” He pulled a face as he slapped his gloved hands together. “Bah! I’m tired of this. Tired of having to tie up loose ends all the time. First that insolent whippersnapper, and now you. Seems I’ve been fighting off dross for years. This country is going to the dogs. Foreigners pouring into London, brewers and millers buying estates. Nowadays any upstart with a bit of brass can set himself up in Mayfair and give himself airs and graces. To hell with ’em all. It sickens me to see these parvenus aping their betters. They should know their proper place in society.”

He was working himself into a proper fury when the carriage abruptly lurched to a halt. Sir Thaddeus took a peek under the blind and nodded.

“Well, this is where you get off.” He swung open the door and nodded towards the night outside.

“You’re letting me go?” Nellie peered out the carriage. Outside it was pitch black. The faint smell of the river drifted on the night air. “Where—”

Before she could say another word, he shoved her out the carriage. She had no sooner fallen to the ground than a strong pair of hands grabbed her and hauled her upright. The door slammed shut, and the carriage rattled away.

Nellie stared up at the stranger holding her prisoner. He was almost as broad as he was tall, and his hands were like iron manacles. He smelled of animal fat, and the skin around his eyes was pitted with pockmarks.

He grinned at her. “Evenin’, love.”

“The rest, you know.” Nellie pressed her hands to her cheeks. The cool mesh of her glove gave her an odd comfort against the lurid recollections of her attack.

A hand descended on her shoulder. She turned to find Julian mere inches away, his countenance a warring mixture of compassion and chagrin. “So Sir Thaddeus delivered you into the clutches of a hired murderer. But why did the brute sever your fingers? Was that barbarity ordered by Sir Thaddeus?”

“I don’t think so. The man wanted my rings, my wedding ring and my mother’s betrothal ring, but I refused. Stupid, I know, but I—I was so furious.”

“Not stupid. Your struggles gave me time to come to your rescue, or he would surely have killed you and thrown your body in the river.”

She shivered. Julian’s hand on her shoulder emanated warmth through her chilled body. The urge to press her scarred cheek against his hand gripped her so hard she almost moaned with the effort of resisting.

“And now, Nellie? Do you still believe Phillip is the innocent dupe of his father? Or do you think he connived with Sir Thaddeus to get rid of you?”

The black depths of his eyes mesmerised her. Dark stubble peppered his jaw, spots of ash clung to his sideburns, the tang of honest labour perfumed his rumpled clothes. His muscular body, mere inches from hers, pulsed with power and purpose. He was so vividly alive, so dangerously attractive, and his robust masculinity threatened to obliterate all reason.

She sensed herself teetering on a knife-edge. Just a few minutes ago, his kiss had shattered through her defences and ignited desires she never knew she possessed. Yet she had made her vows to her husband. She should not be tempted by Julian, no matter how seductive she found him.

“I want to believe Pip is innocent,” she murmured. “I have to believe it, until I know otherwise.”

Julian let out a small sigh, and his hand fell away from her shoulder as he stepped back a few paces. “What will you do? Will you talk to him?”

Instinctively her fingers shielded her damaged cheeks. “I can’t…”

His eyes hardened. “You think he’ll recoil when he sees you?”

She wanted to think the best of Pip, but he wasn’t used to the uglier side of life. “No, I don’t, but…” But could she take that risk?

“A husband who’d blench at a few scars is not a husband worth keeping.”

“It’s more complex than that. I—I’m leery of showing my face to anyone, not just my husband.”

Julian folded his arms across his chest, his stance belligerent. “So you’re going to hide yourself from the world for the rest of your life? Is that it?”

She pushed up her chin to glare at him. “It’s my decision to make. I won’t be bullied by you.”

“And I had no idea Sir Thaddeus was your father-in-law! So you’ll forgive me if I’m a little testy.” A muscle twitched in his clenched jaw as he scowled at her.

Her chest constricted. Was Julian riled because she was connected to his nemesis? Did the fact that she was Pip’s wife offend his sensibilities?

“I should have told you sooner,” she said. “I had no reason to hide it except reluctance. I’m sorry. I abused your hospitality, and…and I should probably make other arrangements.”

Julian snorted. “You’ll do no such thing or you’ll have Elijah haranguing me. You must stay for as long as you wish. I insist.”

A voice from within warned her to leave this house. She was too caught up with Julian Darke. He was clouding her judgement, stirring up wanton desires, threatening her emotions. She had been at Monksbane nine days. Her wounds were sufficiently healed, but she’d made no plans for the future. She’d been focusing only on taking one step at a time, but it was time to lift her head and decide which path to take into the future. She ought to leave and make contact with Pip, try to sort out this awful mess. But as she stared at Julian, she knew she couldn’t leave this house, this man. At least, not yet. Something was brewing between her and Julian, a storm of cyclonic proportions, and the vortex was drawing her in inexorably.

“Very well,” she murmured. “I shall stay. For a while longer.”

Chapter Seven

A rare camellia plant, the likes of which Nellie had never seen before, stood lost in the wilderness of the garden. Its soft pink flowers glowed like jewels against the wintery surrounds, destined to be appreciated only by a very few. Once upon a time, someone had lovingly tended this garden, filling it with rare species, but now it had been left to be reclaimed by nature.

The untamed confusion suited Nellie. Protected within the old stone walls, the garden was a tranquil oasis from the clamour outside. As she neared the far boundary of the south wall, her steps slowed. From here she could see the sludge-coloured fog hovering on the horizon which marked the city. Quiet fields and pockets of woodland kept the metropolis at bay, but for how much longer?

Turning west, she passed the path which led down to the old icehouse, its semi-submerged roof just visible through the thick shrubbery. Elijah Darke used the ancient structure to store his many specimens. She’d been curious to see them, but Elijah did not invite visitors down there, and the icehouse was out of bounds.

Elijah Darke was unfailingly courteous towards her, but she could not say his company was completely relaxing. Beneath his politeness he was a man of mystery, she’d decided. At his urging, she had appropriated more of his late wife’s wardrobe, altering them to better suit her figure. Though the dresses were decades old, they’d been lovingly cared for by Mrs. Tibbet and were made of expensive materials—wool, velvet, lawn, silk. Most of them were far too good to be worn for her day-to-day tasks, including the rich red frock she wore today, but she had little alternative. Elijah didn’t seem to mind, though his was a difficult expression to read. Indeed, at more than one occasion she’d sensed him studying her closely, weighing her up, as if he hadn’t yet finalised his opinion of her. Perhaps because he was chary of her impact on his son.

Sighing, she plucked a sprig off a nearby lavender bush. If only she could clear her muddled thoughts about Julian. Ever since she’d told him about Pip two days ago, he had treated her with cautious civility, and she was growing heartily sick of it. Yet she understood the root of his coolness. She was still married to Pip—regardless of his previous betrothal—and his involvement in his father’s diabolical plans remained in question. She wanted nothing more than to resolve the matter one way or another, but as yet she was too afraid to act. Time was not on her side, though; sooner rather than later she would have to decide a course of action.