Chapter Forty-Seven

B ella sat up and blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness.

What had woken her?

An owl hooted outside, followed by another, further away.

She heard footsteps and caught her breath as a shadow moved beneath the door.

Was it Thomas, who guarded her door at night—or worse, Dunton, come to anticipate the wedding night?

Trembling, she reached beneath her pillow and pulled out the candlestick she kept there, taking comfort from the solid metal as she curled her fingers around it.

The door opened with a creak, and Bella tightened her grip on her weapon.

“Lady Arabella?”

“Connie?”

The maid approached the bed. “We’ve not got long. The hallway’s empty.”

“Where’s Thomas?”

“Outside, looking for poachers—with my brother. He’s saddled a horse ready for you.”

“ Thomas has saddled a horse?”

“No, Luke has—he’s ostler at the King’s Head.”

Bella tempered the flare of hope. “I can’t ride off into the night.”

“You can,” Connie said. “I have your reticule here, with enough money to get you to London.”

“London?”

“That’s where your lawyer is, isn’t it? He’ll take care of you.”

“I’ve never met Mr. Crawford,” Bella said. “How can I trust him?”

“No, Mr. Stockton ,” the maid said. “Mr. Crawford was arrested. Have you never wondered why the duke found you when he did?”

Bella shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Not long after you disappeared, the duke stopped looking for you,” Connie said. “He had all sorts delivered to the house: wine, furniture for that empty parlor in the east wing, a jeweler came from London for your aunt—he even ordered a new carriage. Then it was all sent back—your aunt and the duke argued about it for days. Begging your pardon, I know it’s wrong to eavesdrop, but I heard your aunt call Crawford a fool, and the duke cursed Stockton for refusing to hand over your fortune.”

Bella’s gut twisted with nausea. How dare they! Dunton and her aunt had abandoned her so that they might take her fortune for themselves.

“The greedy, despicable…”

“Hush, miss!” Connie said. “Do you now see why you must go to London? Mr. Stockton might be your best hope for sanctuary.”

Bella stared at her maid. How could Connie—the creature she’d dismissed as having no worth other than to dress her and fix her hair—possess such insight? And how could she, in her pride and arrogance, have overlooked it?

“Come with me, miss,” Connie said. “Come and claim your freedom.”

Bella stared at the open door, beyond which a world existed outside the realm ruled by a vindictive, vile pair who’d delight in bending her to their will.

“Yes, Connie,” she said. “Quick, before my courage fails.”

The maid helped her into a gown, followed by a thick woolen cloak, then looped the reticule over Bella’s neck. She led her into the hallway, pausing at the top of the stairs to check the house was clear before descending and shepherding her out into the night.

At the rear of the building, a horse stood tethered to a gatepost.

“There!” Connie said. “I knew Luke wouldn’t let me down. Do you need help to mount?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Now, Thomas will be in the forest at the front of the house—that’s where Luke’s told him the poachers are. You must ride across the fields at the back. When you come to the London road, don’t turn left—that’s the way to Ilverton village. Turn right and head for Ancombe Mills. It’s an hour’s ride away, and you can hide there. The inn’s called the Boar. The London coach stops there twice a week, and they’ll have plenty of rooms free this time of year. The duke won’t think to look for you there.”

“Connie, why?”

“Because he’s a dim-witted fool, and his men doubly so.”

“No, I mean, why are you helping me?” Bella asked. “I’ve not been an easy mistress. I blush with shame at the thought of how I treated you.”

“I always knew you had a kind soul,” Connie replied, “even if you had to imprison it to survive the life you’d been born into. But you’ve had the privilege of living a different life now, and you deserve to have the freedom to choose the life you want. There’s precious few of us able to follow our hearts, and I’ll take comfort from knowing that you’re following yours.”

“Come with me,” Bella said. “The horse can take both of us.”

“I can’t, miss.”

“You cannot stay here. What will they do to you when they find I’m gone?”

The maid grinned. “They’ll blame Thomas—he was supposed to be guarding your door. Besides, I’d only slow you down. You’ve a better chance of reaching London without me.”

“Oh, Connie! Forgive my past rudeness—I never knew I had such a treasure in my life. I promise that as soon as I’m able, I’ll send for you.”

“Lady Arabella, there’s no need for—”

“There’s every need,” Bella said. “The harpy of the ton is no more. In a world devoid of true friendship, you’ve been a true friend—and I’ll not forsake a friend.”

She embraced her maid, then mounted the horse and set off toward the fields.

The moon was almost full, which enabled Bella to see, but also made her prone to being spotted. The polished metal of the bit and bridle gleamed in the moonlight, and even her breath seemed to shimmer in the cold night air each time she exhaled. She steered the mare around the perimeter hedge to keep to the shadows.

An owl screeched close by, and her mount startled, letting out a soft whinny.

“Hush.” She patted the mare’s flank. “There’s nothing to fear.”

Was she trying to convince the horse—or herself?

She froze as she heard the crunch of footsteps on frost.

“Who goes there?”

Bella’s gut twisted with fear as she recognized Thomas’s voice, and she spurred the horse into a trot.

“Stop—poacher! Or I’ll shoot!”

Footsteps crashed through the undergrowth.

Bella urged the animal into a canter, heading for the gate at the far end of the field, and she could almost have cried with relief when she spotted the road beyond.

Then a sharp crack filled the air.

The horse reared up with a loud whinny, then surged forward. Bella tugged at the reins, but her mount continued to gather speed. The animal sprang forward, and Bella felt a brief moment of weightlessness as they cleared the gate. Then the horse shuddered as its back legs clipped the top of the gate. The animal crashed forward, throwing her to the ground, then righted itself and galloped off, disappearing into the night.

Before Bella could move, another shot rang out.

“Come back, you thieving bugger!”

Footsteps approached, accompanied by wheezing.

“Bastard,” Thomas panted. “Thought I’d got ’im.”

Lighter footsteps joined the first. “You shouldn’t have shot him, sir,” a second, lighter voice said. “That was no poacher—poachers don’t ride horses.”

Bella heard the sound of a slap, followed by a sharp cry.

“Don’t be insolent, boy. They could have stolen one of the master’s horses.”

“The poachers are in the forest, sir. I—Ouch!” The boy yelped at another slap.

“Witless boy!” Thomas replied. “They’ll be long gone by now—I’ll wager my arse on it. Be off with you!”

“B-but you said I could have something to eat if—”

“ If we caught the poachers, boy. You should be thankin’ me for not beating your hide for sending me on a fool’s errand.”

“And you should have gone to the forest.”

Heavens , was the lad brave, or simply foolish? Thomas wasn’t the sort to take kindly to challenge—the poor boy would find himself at the wrong end of a whip if he continued.

“We may still catch them, sir. The duke thinks ever so highly of you—he’d bound to reward you. I want no reward other than knowing I’m doing my duty.”

“And a bite of somethin’ to eat, no doubt,” Thomas said, his voice mellowing.

“Only if we catch them, sir.”

“Very well—but we’ll check the stables first.”

Thomas sniffed, then hawked and spat. Then the heavy clomp of his footsteps faded into the distance, followed by his companion’s lighter tread.

Bella waited until she could no longer hear them, then she tried to stand. Pain shot through her ankle, and she stumbled against the gate, wincing as it creaked. For a moment, she clung to it, her heart hammering, but there was no sign she’d been heard.

But without the horse, she had no means of escape. If Thomas was headed for the stables, it was a matter of minutes before her flight was discovered. If the next village was an hour’s ride away, she’d never make it on foot.

In the opposite direction, she spotted the spire of Ilverton Church silhouetted against the night sky. She might be able to lodge at the inn—provided she wasn’t recognized—and wait for the next London coach. She reached for her reticule, uttering a prayer of thanks that Connie had had the foresight to secure it around her neck. Drawing her cloak around her, she limped toward the village.

*

By the time Bella reached Ilverton, her ankle felt as if it were on fire. As she approached the inn, raucous laughter erupted from within. A door burst open and a man stumbled out, reeking of ale. Grinning at her, he stretched out his arms.

“What’s this? A wench to keep old Jakey warm? Come here, my lovely!”

“Don’t touch me!” she cried, pushing him back. “Do you think I’m a harlot?”

He stumbled against the door, then laughed good-naturedly. “Oh, well, no matter, lovely! There’s plenty lasses willing to warm my bed. It’s right cold outside—get yourself inside and Tom will take care of you.”

“Tom?” Dear Lord —was that brutish footman waiting for her?

“Tom Barnes—the innkeeper,” the man said. “He’ll see you right if you’re needin’ a room. Or perhaps you’re waiting for your husband? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be on her own at night.”

“Y-yes, that’s right—I’m meeting my husband.”

“Get yerself inside, then, ma’am.” The man touched his cap. “Beggin’ your pardon for thinkin’ you were a…” He touched his cap again then stumbled off, singing.

Bella slipped inside, drawing her cloak around her, and found herself in a parlor crammed with people. They jostled each other, cheering and singing, and her stomach heaved at the stench of ale. A flame-haired woman crossed the parlor, dodging from side to side as an occasional hand flew out toward her skirts.

“Come here, my lovely!” a drunken man said.

“Be off with you, Matty,” she replied, laughing, “or I’ll cut yer balls off!”

Her voice seemed familiar.

Where have I heard it before?

“She’d have to find them first!” another man said.

The drunken man joined in the laughter. Then he leaned back, lost his balance, and toppled onto the floor.

“Serve ye right with yer wanderin’ hands!” the woman said. “How are ye goin’ to explain the bruises on your arse to your missus?”

“Tell her he got kicked in the arse by a lass!” another man cried. “He’ll have no bollocks left by the time she’s done with him.”

Bella shuddered as she watched the woman weave her way around the parlor, swiping away offending hands, her bright-red curls gleaming in the candlelight.

Yet she felt a pang of envy at the woman’s good-natured ease and merry countenance. Perhaps a place such as this—a den of iniquity—was safer than the drawing rooms of London Society. At least the predators here were overt in their nature. A very different kind of predator hunted in Society’s drawing rooms: men—and women—who hid their evil beneath a veneer of gentility.

A cheer rose as another woman strode across the parlor, a tankard in each hand, her rough, homespun gown stretching over her voluptuous form. She placed the tankards before two men sitting at a table, her ample bosom in full view.

Bella shuddered at the lust in the men’s eyes. She stepped back and collided with a body.

She whirled round. “Forgive me, I…”

Her voice died as she came face to face with the redhead.

Recognition slid into place. It was the doxy who’d been staying at the inn in Brackens Hill—the one Lawrence had lain with.

Perhaps he still patronized her. Though he had denied it, he’d lied to her about everything else.

“Amelia,” Bella said.

“It’s Millie.” The woman’s eyes widened with recognition. “I know you! You’re Lady A—”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are ,” the woman sneered. “The haughty creature who lives up at the big house—the one who destroyed my Lawrence’s belongings.”

My Lawrence…

A needle of pain stabbed at Bella’s heart.

“Be off with you, your ladyship ,” Millie said. “There’s nothin’ for you here. Go back to your duke.”

“I can’t,” Bella said. “I hate him! He’s nothing like…”

“Nothing like who?”

“No matter,” Bella said. “I’m on my way to London, b-but my horse threw me, and I hurt my foot. I…” She shook her head. “Forgive me. I made a mistake.”

The woman cast her gaze over Bella’s body. Then she took her hand. “Come with me.”

Before Bella could respond, Millie pulled her through a door into a hallway.

“Now, tell me what you’re about.”

“I told you—I’m running away,” Bella said. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re a lady—and ladies never keep their word. Look what you did to my Lawrence.”

Bella blinked, and a tear splashed onto her cheek.

Millie let out a huff. “Not the tears, please. You might be able to win your duke over by sniveling, but I see you for the spoiled madam that you are—lookin’ down your nose at the likes of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Bella said. “I know now what it’s like to feel trapped—to be in the power of those who believe they have the right to treat someone with cruelty merely because of their birth.”

“And what about Lawrence?”

“Lawrence…” As Bella whispered his name, another tear fell. “H-he taught me so much.”

“I’ll wager he did,” Millie said. “How to cook and clean—and how to fuck.”

Bella flinched at the profanity. “It wasn’t like that. I believed he was my husband.”

“Husband, lover, customer—it’s all the same,” Millie said. “I’m not blamin’ you, your ladyship. A darn fine fuck he is—I’ve never had such pleasure between my thighs. Is that why it took you so long to leave him, because your duke can never give you such pleasure?”

Bella shook her head.

“Perhaps you’re thinkin’ he’d rut you again once you’ve tired of that lecher…”

“No.”

“Or you’ve come here to learn a thing or two about feigning pleasure for when the duke mounts you on yer wedding night?”

“Dear God, won’t you desist?” Bella cried. “It wasn’t like that, I tell you! It was an act of love.”

Millie snorted. “Your sort don’t know the meaning of the word. A good rutting—that’s what you’re after.”

Bella surrendered to her fury and wrenched herself free. She grasped Millie’s arms and slammed her back against the oak-paneled walls.

“Do not presume to know me! It may be just rutting to you, but I’ll not have you cheapen what we had between us—what I had, with the man I loved.”

“You didn’t—” Millie began, moving forward, but Bella pushed her back against the wall.

“I did!” she said, thrusting her face close. “I did love him—and I still do. I’ll love him until I draw my last breath, no matter how much he loathes me.”

Millie’s eyes widened, and for a moment the two women stared at each other. Then Millie let out a small moan of pain.

Bella released her and stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” she said, awaiting a tirade of abuse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The tirade never came. Instead, Millie rubbed her arms and continued to stare. “Lawrence… You love him?”

Sweet Lord! Bella had revealed her heart to a woman who’d gladly betray her.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I didn’t mean it. Perhaps I should go.”

Another drunken roar rose, and Bella stiffened and glanced at the door.

“I’m no fool, your ladyship,” Millie said. “You spoke the truth.”

“No, I—”

“There’s never a truer word than that spoken in anger—or in the throes of passion. Stay, your ladyship. Perhaps I can help you.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“I offer it anyway.” The doxy’s expression softened, and she placed a hand on Bella’s arm. “I saw the fear in your eyes just now. If you wish to hide, you can stay here for the night. I’ll help you get to London if that’s where you’re headed.”

“I have money.”

“Heavens, I don’t need your money—I offer my help for your sake. And for Lawrence’s. He’d want you safe.”

Bella shook her head. “He hates me.”

“But you lived as man and wife.”

“Out of his desire for vengeance after I destroyed his belongings. H-he tricked me, Millie. He made me believe I was his wife, mother to his children—and it was out of a desire to punish me, nothing more.”

Millie let out a sigh. “I know,” she said. “It was wrong of him, and I told him so. That day I saw you in Brackens Hill, when I was staying at the Oak. I asked him to come and see me. Do you know what he did when he came?”

“No.”

“He rejected me. Me—the doxy who’s never wanted for a man’s attention. I’m ashamed to say that I begged, told him I’d give him a night’s pleasure and ask nothin’ in return. And he said…he said that he loved another. He said that for the first time in his life he understood the meaning of love—the need within his soul to care for and remain faithful to another, until the day he drew his last breath.” She took Bella’s hand. “He was talking about you.”

“Then he deceived you as well as I,” Bella said.

“I told him he was a misguided fool, and that was the first time he ever raised his voice to me. Then I saw it in his eyes, heard it in the depth of his voice. There’s few who can truly deceive a whore. Lawrence loves you, Bella. I’d stake my reputation as a whore on it—and my reputation is all I have.”

Bella drew in a sharp breath. “You called me Bella .”

Millie smiled. “That I did. And I’ll help you get to London. But the coach won’t be stopping here for days yet.”

“Then I must go elsewhere,” Bella said. “Dunton might come looking for me at any moment.”

“Old Tom will send him away with a flea in his ear,” Millie replied. “I can hide you in my room. Tongues might wag if a woman with your accent takes a room of her own. Then I’ll see if Tom will let me take you over to Ancombe Mills in the cart tomorrow. I know the innkeeper at the Boar—he’ll keep you safe.”

“The Boar? Connie told me to go there.”

“Connie?”

“My maid,” Bella said. “I owe her my liberty.” Bella shuddered at the thought of the discovery of her escape. “I wish she’d come with me. But I can better help her when I’ve reached London—I’ll send someone to bring her to me once I’m safe.”

A crash came from the parlor next door, followed by a stentorian voice. “Cease what you’re doing this instant!”

It was Dunton.

“Sweet heaven!” Bella cried.

“Hush!” Millie whispered, pressing her ear to the door. “Consider yourself lucky you arrived this late—half the men in the parlor will be too drunk to recognize their own faces, let alone anyone else’s. He’ll not know you’re here. But I’m leaving nothing to chance. Follow me.”

Millie led her along the hallway to a narrow staircase.

“Take the stairs—mind the step at the turn, ’cause it creaks. Turn right at the top. My chamber’s at the end, with a number eight painted on the door.”

“But—”

“No time for questions—just do it!”

Bella approached the staircase as Millie returned to the parlor. She climbed the stairs, wincing as they creaked, and made her way to the chamber. The room reeked of cologne and stale cigars. A huge four-poster bed dominated the room with red drapes trimmed with gold, reeking of decadence. How many men had Millie entertained on that bed?

How many times had Lawrence …

Voices approached, and Bella froze as she recognized Dunton’s thick, nasal tone, coaxing and whining like a petulant child.

“Why not ? I’ll show you a good time, girl.”

“Aren’t I the one supposed to show you a good time, sir?”

It was Millie’s voice, though it seemed harsher than before. Had the doxy betrayed her?

“Just one little kiss, then, you delectable creature.”

“I’ve told you before, I don’t give my services for nothin’.”

“I could make you rich beyond your wildest dreams, my dear.”

Bella shuddered at the undercurrent of threat in Dunton’s voice.

“That may be, sir, but I’ll not let you touch me until you show me your coin.”

“My man can see to that in the morning.”

“Then come back in the morning.”

“Miserable whore!”

Bella winced at the snarl in his voice.

“I’m a sensible whore, sir,” Millie said. “If none of my customers paid me, I’d have to stop whoring, and then where would you all be with your needy cocks?”

“I’ll soon have a fortune to give you,” Dunton said.

“A man known in Ilverton for not settling his debts?” Millie laughed.

Bella found herself admiring the doxy. How could she defy Dunton with such courage? Then her gut twisted as she heard his next words.

“I’ll soon have enough money to buy exclusivity from every whore in the county, when I’ve roped in that little bitch.”

“Then I wish you luck in finding her, after which I’ll service your every whim.”

Bella grimaced at the wet sound of a kiss.

“There!” Millie said. “A treat to whet your appetite for when you return. And then I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Dunton’s voice sounded strained. “Will you let me fuck you on the floor?”

“Oh, sir, have you no imagination?”

“In the stables, then, on all fours while I rut you from behind? I’d give you an extra sixpence if you neighed like a mare.”

Bella fought the urge to retch. Was this how men spoke to doxies? How could a woman bear such degradation?

“Ooh, sir , I’m quite overcome with the prospect. To think—all that straw sticking to our bodies, the scent of animals in the air…”

Dunton let out a strangled groan.

“Now, don’t be spending out here in the hallway,” Millie said. “The landlord won’t be having any of that.”

“Then let me inside your chamber.”

“My chamber is not to be entered until we’ve come to an agreement. Go find your fiancée. If you’re so desperate to find her, you shouldn’t be spending the night with a whore.”

Dunton let out a grunt, then Bella heard the sound of wet lips smacking once more.

“There,” Millie said. “May my kiss give you all the luck that you deserve.”

Dunton mumbled a reply, then his footsteps faded into the distance.

Shortly after, Millie opened the door. She glanced at Bella, then rushed toward a bureau containing a decanter and two glasses. She poured out a measure of dark red liquid and drained it in one gulp.

“Sweet holy tits, that man’s repugnant!” she said, her tone returning to its former softness. “Every whore has her limits, and my limit is him . Why the devil would anyone want to spend the rest of their life with a man like that?”

Bella’s cheeks warmed with shame.

Millie set the glass aside and took Bella’s hands. “Forgive me,” she said. “I understand you thought you have no choice before—I only rejoice now you’ve realized that you do have a choice, and you’re exercising it now.”

“D-do you think he’ll come back?” Bella asked.

“Not likely. Tom told him he’d heard talk of your going to Midchester. And don’t worry—Tom’s agreed to let me take you to Ancombe Mills in the cart.”

“Why would he help me?”

“Because I asked.”

“And why would you ask him when you hardly know me?” Bella asked.

Millie smiled. “I’m doing it for Lawrence. Even if you never see him again, I know he’d rest easier if the woman he loves is safe.”