The Marquis' Mystical Witch (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (9 page)

If only Lord Radford would offer for her. The thought popped into her mind as a lone beacon of hope. But no, a marquis did not ask a woman without a dowry to be his wife.

A soft knock on the door had Thea quickly wiping her tears away. Elvie stepped inside and closed the door.

“What is it?” Thea asked, concerned to see distress on her sister’s face.

“I’m not sure, but please stay with me in my room tonight.”

“Did something frighten you?” Thea rushed to her sister's side.

“It's not about me. I fear for you.” Elvie reached for Thea’s hand. “Come, there is not much time.”

Puzzled, but seeing Elvie’s determination, Thea put on her night-robe. They crept along the corridor, hugging the wall, and then dashed across to Elvie’s room. Elvie shut the door and tugged at Thea’s hand, going toward the bedside.

“It will be like when we were small,” she whispered. “You can pretend to protect me from the night monsters.”

After they crawled up into the soft bed, Thea pondered Elvie's warning. Was her sister able to foresee the future? Grandmamma Humphrey often did, but only used her gift when people were in danger. Elvie lay curled on her side, stiff and unmoving, staring at the door. Tension hung palpable in the air.

* * * *

A stair creaked. Elvie grabbed Thea’s hand and held on tight. In a minute, they heard steps near Thea’s room and a door opened. Elvie motioned Thea toward the curtains.

Thea slid out of bed. The cold floor sent a chill thru her body. Moving quickly across the room, she hid behind the yards of heavy window drapes. Elvie turned on her side again, pretending to sleep.

They’d barely gotten into place when Elvie’s doorknob turned and the door opened slowly. Light from a single candle flickered in the opening. Thea watched through a slit in the curtains. She almost gasped out loud when she saw the intruder was Akers. Even with his face covered, she recognized his evil eyes.

He came in and stood at the end of Elvie’s bed. Thea held her breath and waited for what seemed like hours. Finally, when Thea was sure she would pass out from lack of air, Akers moved quietly out the door and closed it.

Thea waited and was glad she did. Akers flung the door open and held the candle high to survey the room. Elvie, in a perfect example of someone rudely awakened, jerked up and screamed on seeing him. He ran and they heard his footsteps as he rushed down the corridor toward the stairs.

Uncle Rigby flew into the room. “What is it? What happened?”

Thea didn’t move. Elvie played her part as though they had rehearsed it.

“A man came to my room,” Elvie gasped out. “He stood in the doorway,”

“A man you say? Did you see his face?”

“Not very well. He wore a hat and his neck cloth was pulled across the lower part of his face.”

Thea leaned closer to the wall. Her heart beat fast and hard, but she couldn’t resist peeking again from the slit between the curtains. For a perceptible moment, she saw a flash of relief cross her uncle’s face.

“I’d better check on your sister. Stay here,” Uncle Rigby directed Elvie.

Thea hesitated. Should she let her uncle know she was safe or wait? She decided to remain hidden and see what happened next. Every instinct told her Uncle Rigby had something to do with the happenings tonight.

Uncle Rigby shut Elvie’s door, and they heard him hurrying toward Thea’s room. If she left now, Elvie would be safe until Uncle Rigby discovered Thea was not with Akers. Thea wasn’t sure how much time that would give her. She couldn’t chance it. She feared Uncle Rigby might threaten Elvie in some way.

“Quick,” she whispered to Elvie. “Do you have pen and paper in your desk?”

“Yes.” Elvie got up and lit a candle, so Thea could see to write a short note. In the distance, they heard Uncle Rigby calling to the butler and acting the distraught uncle of a missing niece.

Thea scribbled the message and handed it to Elvie. “When Uncle Rigby finds I am still here it will cause some confusion and distraction and allow you to slip away.

“Give this letter to whomever you trust and tell them to deliver it directly into Lord Radford’s hands. I’m going to pretend I heard something and slipped into your room without you being aware. You run out now and tell Uncle Rigby I’m safe. While he confronts me, send the note.”

“I will. George, one of the kitchen boys, can be trusted. He'll find someone to deliver your message or take it himself.” Elvie pulled on her night-robe and sped out the door, calling for their uncle.

Thea braced herself for the coming altercation. She shivered with cold and fear. She refused to consider the consequences if Lord Radford refused to help her. He might very well decide not to become involved. Her own presumption to ask him shocked her. Still, she had no one else.

Heavy footsteps stormed up the stairs. Her sister’s door flew open and banged against the wall. Thea stood by the curtain where she’d hid.

Uncle Rigby’s hateful eyes glared at her, as he snarled. “You were here all along. Why did you continue to hide?” He advanced into the room until he stood over her. His face flushed an unhealthy red. Beefy hands grasped her arms and yanked her away from the curtains.

“You do not seem pleased by my narrow escape, uncle.”

He sputtered with anger, and spittle flew from his tight mouth. “Do not speak.” He flung her away from him, and Thea caught hold of the bed post to keep from falling.

“Go.” He pointed to the door. “Dress appropriately and meet me in my office at ten o’clock. I will notify Lord Akers you are ready to accept his generous proposal. Perhaps he can protect you better than I.”

“I won’t marry him!”

"You will do as I say and that includes marrying whomever I choose.” Uncle Rigby bent even closer. "I have control of you and your sister."

“No!”

He gripped her shoulders and shoved her so hard against the wall she bumped her head. Servants standing in the doorway gasped. Uncle Rigby glowered at them, then strode across the room and slammed the door shut.

Thea touched her head. "You're a bully and nothing like my father."

"Your father is gone, and you're no one. I'm in charge here."

Aunt Cornelia opened the door and stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind her. “What are you doing?” her hard voice snapped. “We will be gossip for the Ton and you are ruining Amy’s chance to make an exceptional match.”

“The gal foiled our plans. I am sending for Akers to end this charade. He can get a special permit and marry her as soon as he wants.” Uncle Rigby turned from his wife and glared at Thea. “And if you do anything such as running away, we will see your sister wed to him. Now go and be in my office at ten o'clock."

Thea balled her hands into fists. She wanted to batter her uncle's weak, pudgy face. He had her cornered and he knew it. She would never expose her sister to such a fate. Refusing to look cowed, Thea marched toward the door.

“Akers will enjoy bending that one to his will. I wish I could watch,” Rigby muttered under his breath as Thea walked by him.

She knew he wanted her to hear. She recoiled from the horror his words created in her mind and held her lips tight to swallow her scream. All hope was gone.

* * * *

Rising early, Wulf went downstairs. He didn't expect to see his mother or sister at breakfast after their late return from the dance. Restless and hungry, he settled at the table with a plate of sausage and eggs. He’d just finished his second cup of coffee when Bailey entered the room.

“My lord, an unkempt man is at the back door. He has a letter he says must be delivered directly to you.”

“Unkempt, Bailey?”

“He appears disheveled. I can not believe he would be employed by any proper household.”

“He will not give you the letter?”

“No, he is adamant that he has to place it in your hands.”

“Send him in, but bring the pistol from my study first,” Wulf said, being curious, but also cautious.

Bailey nodded and soon returned with the gun. Wulf left it lying in plain sight.

With his brown shaggy hair, a craggy face and dirty clothes, the messenger looked like he’d been living on the streets. But, he held himself straight, and the look in his eyes showed he'd not been completely cowed by his situation. At least not yet.

The man glanced at the gun, but didn’t flinch. He walked straight to Wulf. “You be Lord Radford?”

“Yes.”

The man held out a folded paper. “I was told to give this to you.” He moved his head in a brief bow and stepped back.

“Were you to stay for an answer?”

“No. My brother said, ‘tis a nice kettle of fish in the house this mornin' and I’m to rush this,” he nodded toward the paper, “to you.”

“What household?”

“My brother works in the Beckett kitchens.”

“Bailey,” Wulf called out and Bailey popped into the room. Wulf held back a smile. Obviously Bailey hovered outside in case he was needed.

“See this man is given a good breakfast.” Wulf studied the messenger. “You need work?”

The man nodded his head.

“I appreciate the speed and determination you’ve shown to get this to me.” Wulf indicated the letter. “Stay around after your breakfast and we'll talk later and see if we can find a job for you to do.”

Puzzlement crossed the craggy face but the man nodded in agreement.

“Good. Go eat.”

Wulf waited until the door shut behind the two men. He turned the paper over in his hand, and then taking a deep breath, broke the seal and began to read.

Lord Radford, I am in desperate straits. My uncle attempted to have me kidnapped tonight. He is determined to wed me to Lord Akers. I am not sure how you can help me, but you are my only hope. I believe we can come to an agreement and I will help you, as you requested, in return for your assistance now.
Miss Althea Beckett.

Wulf paced around the small dining room. His instincts told him that the time had come for him to make a decision regarding marriage. Having a wife would complicate his life in many ways, especially one that made his blood run hot with desire.

He slapped the paper against his hand. He knew he wouldn't ignore her distress call, although old memories tried to overwhelm him. He forced them back into the deep recesses of his mind. He wanted to have her for his own, but he had planned to try one more time to find a way to break the curse. Now, there was no time for that.

Seeing the early morning light through his window, Wulf realized Althea sent the message before dawn. Unfolding the note, he reread the short missive. Her uncle must be desperate, but why? What did Lord Akers know and/or hold against the man? He had hoped to have time for his investigator to find out, but her uncle was too quick to action.

Wulf dashed off a note to his solicitor. Mr. Deems knew how to contact Hawley. For now, he'd behave as though he already knew what he only suspected.

“Bailey,” he called out and his butler quickly appeared. “Send Thomas to my room right away.” Wulf took the stairs two at a time. There was no time to lose.

Thomas, his valet, did not hide his disapproval at being awakened at such an early hour. Lords usually slept late and took their time preparing for the day. His annoyance that Wulf seldom followed the correct schedule was apparent. Wulf said nothing. Thomas had been his father’s valet and he would soon be old enough to retire. For now, Wulf put up with his valet’s idiosyncrasies by ignoring them.

Dressed in dark blue breeches and coat with a white and silver vest and high polished Hessian boots, Wulf prepared to leave. “I will carry my blackthorn cane.”

“You are expecting trouble?”

“Let us say I prefer to be prepared.” The blackthorn hid a long, thin knife, which Wulf hoped would not be needed.

Thomas handed Wulf his gloves, hat, and the cane. Wulf glanced at the mirror. He appeared well dressed for the day. The tight coat annoyed him, but it was the accepted dress in town. He would have preferred a country coat, with more movement allowed in the shoulders, but he would manage. Perhaps all could be handled in a civil manner. At least one could hope.

* * * *

Akers’ carriage was in front of Beckett’s townhouse when Wulf rounded the corner in his curricle. Wulf handed his reins to his tiger, then jumped down and hurried up the steps. The butler answered with promptness. He stared, a surprised expression on his face.

“Lord Radford?”

Wulf pushed against the door, and the butler stepped back. “I am here to see Lord Beckett,” Wulf said, handing him his hat and gloves.

The thin, pointy chinned butler straightened and frowned. “I do not believe Lord Beckett is expecting you. He is busy at the moment.”

Wulf gave him a forceful glare. “I believe he will see me. Announce me, now,” he demanded and was pleased to see a frightened expression cross the man’s face. Still he had to give the butler credit. He held his ground.

“This is most irregular.”

Irritated and tired of bandying words, Wulf strode down the corridor and knocked on the study door.