24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter twenty-four

C harlotte could barely breathe, anticipating the many ways her body could intertwine with Hugh’s. She was quite willing to give every single one of them a try—that is, if Hugh wanted to, and oh, how she hoped he did.

Her mouth watered at the memory of his masculine appendage hing as it reached for her. More than anything, she wanted to taste him. Just a tiny lick—or mayhap two or three—and then she could straddle him like the woman on page fifteen of The Secret Life of Gentleman . The curvy siren in the illustration had ridden her man as if he were a horse. And, my oh my, Hugh would make a mighty stallion.

Charlotte giggled before quickly sobering. She had an important task to concentrate on .

They simultaneously reached for the fall of Hugh’s trousers, their fingers lingering when they accidentally touched. Charlotte was the first to break contact, but that was because she needed to get him naked if she meant to fulfill her fantasy.

“Shh.” Hugh grasped both of her hands. His eyes widened as he froze in place. “Someone is outside your chamber,” he whispered.

Even though her door was locked, fear crept up her spine. She tilted her ear toward the hallway and held her breath.

He must be mistaken because she heard nothing except Snowball’s purrs and her own wildly pumping blood.

“I think they are gone,” she whispered.

Hugh shook his head. “No.” He tapped her on the back and mouthed, “Get up.”

She swung her legs from his lap. Before she could stand, the chamber door creaked open.

Lady Chesterhill entered the room, her caped army behind her. Her presence brought with it an unearthly chill, and a skeleton key dangled from between her spindly fingers.

“Fuck,” Hugh muttered under his breath.

He reached for his shirt and shoved his arms into the sleeves as Lady Chesterhill glided toward them.

Who in the blazes wore a silky black dressing gown besides sorceresses and female demons?

Apparently, Suzannah.

Interestingly, her flowing dress hid how bone-thin she was. In the candlelight, she could pass for a woman of three and twenty. A bright red ribbon was tied around the hair hanging over one shoulder. She painted a terrifying, yet still somehow beautiful, picture.

“What do we have here?” she asked, a twisted smile on her face .

Charlotte’s heart pumped so forcefully that she feared it might burst through her chest. Bile oozed up her throat, and despite what felt like a drop in temperature, sweat dripped from her forehead. Doing her best to ignore her trepidation, she squared her shoulders to the evil presence.

Lady Chesterhill sniffed. “I hate the stench of cat.”

“My lady, why are you in my chamber?” Charlotte asked as Hugh growled through clenched teeth.

“I believe the more pertinent question is, why is he in your room?”

As Lady Chesterhill stalked toward Hugh, two caped men ambushed him from behind. Within seconds, they had his legs spread wide and his arms locked behind him.

Charlotte rushed toward them. “Do not hurt him.” It was as if she was possessed by an enraged pugilist as her fists pummeled the men holding Hugh.

Leon grasped her around the waist and tugged her backward. “I do not want to hurt you, so please calm down,” he whispered against her cheek.

He could not hurt her if she maimed him first. She whirled on him and kicked him in the shin. He flung her around and wrapped his arms over her shoulders, capturing her in a snug hold.

“If you hurt her, I will kill you all,” Hugh growled out.

Charlotte fought to free herself to no avail. Leon was skilled in combat, twice her size, and exceedingly strong. Therefore, she helplessly watched as the guards shoved Hugh toward Lady Chesterhill, who brazenly scraped her fingernails down his chest, leaving behind a trail of blood.

“I will see you in hell,” Hugh spat out.

Lady Chesterhill rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist. “Silence him. Then, lock him in the cellar. See that he is unharmed this time because I still have need of his services.” She smiled wickedly as her gaze raked up and down Hugh’s body.

“You bloody cu—” was all Hugh got out before a cloth was shoved into his mouth.

“You may have my father wrapped around your finger, but you will never get away with this,” Charlotte declared.

Lady Chesterhill shifted her attention from Hugh to Charlotte, and she tsked.

Charlotte held no doubts; her life was in danger. And over what? A woman who hated her for breathing the same air?

With her back to Leon, Charlotte could not kick or punch him. Although…

She clasped his forearm between her teeth and bit down as hard as she could.

“Ouch.” Leon swatted at her as if she were a pesky fly.

Despite his letting go, she could not escape because he immediately locked his forearm around her neck, restricting her airflow. Panicking over her inability to breathe, she dug her fingernails into his skin until he loosened his hold. She sputtered and gasped, inhaling the biggest breath of her life.

“Silence her too, you fools, before someone hears her blubbering,” Lady Chesterhill said.

But she was not blubbering. She was simply trying to take in air. However, she should be screaming for help.

“Help, Pa—” was all she got out before a gag was shoved into her mouth.

“Do you want her taken to the cellar as well?” Leon asked.

Lady Chesterhill scoffed. “I have no need of her. Take her into the woods and cut out her heart. Feed her body to the wolves for all I care. Just be sure to dispose of it.” She held up her hand. Jewels glistened from every finger. “And do not dally. ”

Only a greedy villainess would wear priceless diamonds and rubies with her nightclothes. This had to be a nightmare. Once Charlotte awoke, this would all be over.

After blinking a few times, it became apparent this was no bad dream. If a miracle did not save her, Charlotte would meet the end of her days, and that simply would not do. She was not ready to leave her earthly body. It had been forever since she had told Papa and Alexander that she loved them. She wanted a puppy of her very own. Who would take care of Snowball and Cricket?

She would never have children.

She would never see Hugh again…

“My lady, you cannot be serious,” Leon said. “Lord Chesterhill will kill every last one of us if we harm his daughter.”

“He will never know. We shall start a rumor.” Lady Chesterhill dramatically tapped a finger to her cheek, feigning thoughtfulness. “Oh, I know. Did you hear that Charlotte Beckett, the daughter of the Marquess of Chesterhill, ran off with a rake named Hugh Fletcher? They have been secretly having an affair, and since they are not of the same class and were not permitted to marry, they ran away together.”

The woman’s malicious grin sent chills up Charlotte’s spine.

Her stepmother glowered at her. “I will make sure that the simpering lady’s maid of yours hears. She will fall apart, making the story quite believable.”

If Charlotte could have talked, she would have insisted that poor Lucy not become a pawn in this evil charade.

A clammer from the other side of the room startled Charlotte .

Hugh had somehow freed himself and tossed one of his captors over his shoulder. The caped man landed on his back with a thud.

Her miracle. Brave, heroic Hugh would save them.

Complete chaos erupted as Hugh fought through their enemies to reach Charlotte’s side. Meanwhile, Snowball screeched and ran from her hiding place right into Lady Chesterhill’s clutches.

Hugh slammed Leon in the face, knocking him backward. Grabbing her wrist, her hero pulled her toward the door. But Charlotte could not leave, not with her stepmother holding Snowball captive.

“Take another step, and I will strangle this wretched beast,” Lady Chesterhill said.

With his hand poised to open the chamber door, Hugh faced Lady Chesterhill. The gag muffled his pained groan.

Leon stood beside his mistress, his eyes wide with what looked like horror.

Lady Chesterhill clutched the squirming kitten to her bosom as she slithered to them.

“’Tis such a shame because if you keep this up, you will no longer have that pretty face.” She slapped Hugh so hard that his head flew to the side.

“Hugh,” Charlotte tried to cry out.

Hot anger radiated from Hugh as he stared down their enemy.

“Get her out of my sight,” Lady Chesterhill said.

Leon lifted Charlotte and tossed her over his shoulder. “I shall also dispose of the kitten, my lady. If you could be so kind as to put it into that basket.”

Charlotte could not discern much draped over the mammoth man’s shoulder. But she could imagine her stepmother’s cheeks growing red with anger upon discovering Charlotte had borrowed a basket from Cook. And she suspected Snowball scratched the wicked woman since she hissed out, “Ouch. You horrible little beast.” Unless she was calling Charlotte names, which she often did.

“Bring me her heart,” Lady Chesterhill reminded Leon as he carried Charlotte into the hall. “And do not make any more errors.”

From her upside-down position, Charlotte searched for Hugh. She caught his gaze for one second before the door closed between them.

Charlotte clutched her basket so tightly that her knuckles burned. Snowball eventually no longer meow ed loud enough to wake every slumbering woodland creature.

Without a candle or lantern, it had taken forever for Charlotte’s eyes to adjust to the moonlit night. The ground was slick with mud and leaves, and she slipped twice as Leon dragged her through the forest. While they trudged along in silence, she used her jaw muscles to loosen her gag. She watched with satisfaction as it tumbled to the ground.

“She is quite cruel, so why do you answer her every beck and call?” Charlotte asked.

Leon halted to look down at her. The moonlight glinted off his pistol, which he half-heartedly pointed in Charlotte’s direction. His gaze traveled to her discarded gag, and he sighed.

“Walk.” He yanked on her forearm, pulling her along beside him. “I suppose there is no harm in telling you since you will not be alive to tell anyone. I have been in love with Suzy since I was a young lad working for her first husband.”

Suzy? What the dickens? The name did not suit—not even a little. She should be called Lillith or Queen Succubus. And how could any man love her? Why had even her father fallen for the woman’s machinations?

Although it seemed her father had fallen for many women. Charlotte could not begin to entertain the thoughts of his many lovers and by-blows. The entire notion left her queasy. No wonder Alexander had immersed himself in books these many years.

“Tell me about her first husband,” Charlotte asked. Engaging in pointless banter seemed a better choice than rolling into a ball and crying. Besides, if she endeared herself to Leon, he might be less inclined to kill her. In between his moments of arseholery, he had shown seconds of kindness.

Arseholery? She was beginning to sound like Hugh. Her heroic, brave Hugh.

“He was a cruel baron, forty years her senior,” Leon said. “He did not provide for her after his death. His children from his first marriage disowned her, leaving her an impoverished widow.”

“Oh.” Charlotte had not known.

“She was not as jaded back then. A bit pampered and spoiled, but she smiled and laughed a lot.” Leon growled. “She was mistreated by that stone-hearted man and his despicable children.”

“Mayhap, that is why she hates me so,” Charlotte said. “She thinks that if something happens to our father, Alexander and I will toss her into the streets.”

She, for one, would love nothing more than to be rid of her stepmother. But Papa would not want that. Certainly, he would leave Suzannah well cared for, setting her up in their lovely dowager house in the East Midlands. Although, truthfully, Charlotte no longer knew her father’s motivations or priorities. The man she adored had become a mystery to her.

“I suspect that is the case.” Leon sighed. “I left the new baron’s employ to stay with and protect her. Society ill-treated her so.”

The woman had probably always had an unkind streak and had sealed her destiny with her late husband’s family and fortune. But if Leon was besotted, he might only see her positive attributes. Could this mean that Leon had a soft spot for women? If the horror apparent in his gaze as he watched poor Snowball’s mishandling was any indication, he might also have a soft spot for animals. Charlotte could work with this.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“Where no one will hear a gunshot.”

She stifled her horrified whimper. She must keep her wits about her.

“I suppose this is as good a place as any,” Leon said.

Charlotte swallowed her tears. “Will you let Snowball go free? Please.”

Leon kicked at a pile of sticks, and they crackled beneath his boots. “I never intended to hurt the kitten. ’Tis quite adorable.”

Charlotte had no other choice but to trust him. She placed the basket on the ground. Lifting Snowball, she cooed into her ear, “I love you, my precious baby.” As much as she wanted to hold her kitten close to her forever, she needed to set her free before Leon changed his mind.

She placed Snowball on the ground. The kitten rolled onto her back and stuck her legs into the air, awaiting belly rubs .

“Snowball, you must go,” she said. Please let her find a home where she could receive loving pats and drink fresh milk daily.

Snowball rolled onto her belly, curled into a ball, and instantly fell asleep.

Sighing, Charlotte stood.

Leon sniffled and turned his face from Charlotte. If he was trying to hide tears, then her speculations were correct, and unlike his mistress, he had a heart.

“May I request that you somehow prevent Lady Chesterhill from tormenting poor Lucy?” she asked.

He faced her, an all-consuming frown belaying his torment. He nodded, then raised his pistol, aiming it at Charlotte.

“Wait!” she cried out.

He lowered the gun.

“I know you are aware of the three-legged goat in the barn. Her name is Cricket. I visit her every day and take her apples, carrots, and a piece of bread. Could you ensure that Billy, the stable boy, has what he needs to continue to care for her?”

Leon moaned. “Hell's bells. She will have me pull out its innards.”

And yet he loved her? He had to be under some type of spell.

“And please be sure that Snowball has a good home,” she said.

“I am about to shoot you between the eyes, and you are worried about a lady’s maid, a kitten, and a three-legged goat?”

She was also concerned for Hugh and, truth be told, herself.

“I do not want to die, and I do not believe you want to hurt me. But if you do, I think you will be honorable enough to look out for Lucy and my pets,” she said.

He huffed and raised the pistol .

She held her breath and prayed.

The seconds felt like hours. Her legs quivered beneath her as the pistol shook in his unsteady hand. Meanwhile, she willed him to spare her life.

“Bloody hell,” he said. “I cannot do it.”

She exhaled a whimper of relief.

“Suzy will never forgive me. She will never love me.”

The woman was nary capable of love, but Charlotte would remind Leon of this at a more appropriate time. She needed to get Snowball to safety and save Hugh from whatever horrors he was experiencing.

Locking her gaze with Leon’s, she moved cautiously, as if approaching an injured deer. “I knew you were a good man who would not hurt me,” she whispered.

Unblinking, he stood frozen.

She removed the gun from his shaking fingers. “Tell her you slipped in the mud, and I ran away. Then she might not be angry with you.”

He huffed. “She will never forgive me.”

Probably not. The man needed to find a new woman to pine for.

“Right here.” He pointed at his temple.

Nonplussed, Charlotte simply stared at him.

“Use the pistol and hit me right here,” he said.

“What if I hurt you?”

“I hope you knock me out cold,” he said.

Charlotte closed her eyes, exhaled, and aimed for his forehead.

Thwack !

He grunted.

She opened one eye.

“Harder,” he said .

She exhaled, then cracked him with as much strength as she could muster.

“Fuck.” He dropped onto his buttocks and rubbed his forehead. “That bloody hurt.”

Charlotte’s gaze slid from the weapon in her hand to the man at her feet. “I am sorry.”

“Go,” he said.

“But you are hurt.”

“Damnations, my lady, that was the bloody point. Now, get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

She placed the pistol into her basket and looped the handle over her forearm. After scooping up Snowball, she clutched the kitten to her chest.

Snowball purred and snuggled close.

“Thank you, Leon. You are a good man indeed,” she called over her shoulder as she dashed back the way they had come.