Chapter Twenty-Three

Was this what a broodmare felt like? Rosamunde continued standing in the middle of the room as the overweight, balding, smelly man circled her for the umpteenth time. What he looked for, she hadn’t a clue. His pockmarked face wasn’t the problem. His halitosis was, but she had smelled worse. It was the way he looked at her, like he was imagining all the disgusting things he was going to do to her.

Castor Adimari. An Italian count. Older than her own father and a man who made her skin crawl.

Could she run away? Probably not. She still wore the dress she’d donned to pay her respects to the St. Martins, and it wasn’t enough layers. Numerous times he had reached out to touch her only to drop his hand at the last second. The feeling had been akin to spiders running over her skin and she hated those things.

“We have a deal. You agreed to give me the money in exchange for her.”

She barely flinched at the words from the man who should have protected her. At least she was in his study, the warmest room in the house. Although, after this, she doubted she’d ever be warm again.

“Yes, how you say, an exchange.” The count grinned at her before lewdly licking his lips. “I would have a word with her alone.”

Fear spiked.

“Of course.” Her father rose from his desk and headed for the door. Once there, he paused. “You don’t get to touch her until I get the money.”

A low laugh that served nothing more than to spread the fear in her jumped from him. “You know, in Italy we try our purchases before making them.”

“You’re not in Italy. I’ll be back in five minutes.” The door closed behind him.

The man stopped before her. “You’re fat.”

Chin up, she didn’t move. Didn’t respond or react. They were only words and they couldn’t hurt her any longer. People who were supposed to love and protect her said worse things on daily basis. What power did a stranger’s words have? None.

“You’re not as attractive as your sisters but you’ll do.” He reached out and this time he touched her face with one finger, the dirty, cracked nail churning her stomach. “I will have you. I will break you.”

No more guesses on how the rest of her life would be. Hell.

“I have friends who have a penchant for fat girls. Perhaps they will like a turn with you. I do enjoy watching them take their fun.” He ran his hand down his large belly to his groin, where he grabbed himself.

Rosamunde swallowed down the bile. It wouldn’t do to show him fear. She didn’t argue he would get it from her in the future but right now, she would be brave.

As he held himself in one hand, he grasped her breast in his other and squeezed. Hard.

“I may burn you with my mark. My teeth.” He grinned and the fear fully blossomed within her. He was sadistic. “I cannot wait,” he said, twisting her nipple, “to have your fair skin covered in welts and my seed. No marks on your face of course, have to be able to be seen in public, but I will cum there.”

The doorknob turned and he stepped away from her, putting a respectable distance between them the moment her father returned.

Had it been five minutes already? She didn’t know more than that it was hard to breathe and to keep standing.

“I will have the money for you tomorrow.” The man turned and walked out, never once looking back at her. No bending over her hand. Not even pretending to be kind.

“He doesn’t seem so bad. You’ll get to travel.” Bradford nodded and shooed her from the study. “Your bags are packed, you should rest. You don’t look good and he deserves to get a bride that looks as best she can. Not a lot you can do but some rest can’t hurt.”

Woodenly, she trudged up to her room and sat on the bed, the packed trunks not the slightest concern for her. It didn’t matter. This man was going to kill her at some point.

She had nowhere to go. No one to run to. If she’d thought he cared, she would head to Bryn. Sure, she could go now and he would help because that’s the kind of man he was but she didn’t want to put him in that situation.

The first sob tore out of her and she flopped to her side, crying for everything. What she was losing, what she’d experienced and what she wouldn’t ever have again. Plus what she was heading into.

* * * *

“My lord.”

Bryn looked up from where he stared into the fire of his father’s study. Draper stood there, a silver platter in one hand.

“What do you need, Draper?”

He was doing his best to reconcile the loss of his grandfather. Unlike his siblings, he had known the man when he’d been less grandfatherly. Against his parents being together, the man had gone out of his way to keep them apart. It wasn’t until he’d been poisoned that the man’s feeling toward his mother had changed.

“A missive for you, sir.”

He reached out his hand to take the paper. “Thank you, Draper. Is someone waiting for a response?”

“No, my lord.”

“Great.” He dropped it on his thigh and returned to staring at the flames crackling in the hearth.

“I was advised it was a matter of importance, however, my lord.” Draper left him alone.

He didn’t want to open it. He wanted to drink and forget. His grandfather and Rosamunde.

Grunting in frustration, he picked up the heavy envelope and used his finger to rip it open. He paused to look at the seal and frowned. Why would Seamus be sending him anything?

Morning was imminent and he should have been asleep. The fact this arrived at this time… Perhaps Draper had been correct in his assumption this was urgent.

Shaking the letter open, he skimmed it, swore then read it again.

Bryn,

A bit of news for you about your young lady. Her count was at my establishment last night and well into this morning, he owes me a great deal of money. Rumor is, he plans on running with her and marrying her on the ship once they are out to sea. He severely injured one of my girls and she is barely living after his time with her. We both know that little miss is yours. If you don’t save her, I will.

-Jimmy Mac

The flames burned a bit higher as they ate the missive as he ran from the room. He had some people to get. As he opened the front door, he glanced back to see Henry standing there.

“Everything okay?” he asked his brother, shoving into his coat.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my woman. Care to ride along?”

The first smile he’d seen on his brother’s face since their grandfather passed came as he nodded. Not much later, they were riding their horses up the street, heading to get Falcon, Remington and Piers.

* * * *

Her mother’s lady’s maid woke her in the morning, and Rosamunde had nothing left to give, remaining subdued as she bathed and dressed her. Pushing her away when it came to her hair, she braided it herself, trying to find some normalcy in the act.

The trunks had been removed when she finally headed down the stairs. For the last time, most likely. The count stood by her father and when he looked at her, her belly flopped. Perhaps there would be an opportunity to escape on the journey. If it came, she would head out and take her chances.

The count had donned a dark-blue suit that looked disturbingly good on him, making him slimmer than he’d been yesterday. Didn’t change the look in his eyes that had her instinctively wanting to take several steps back.

“There she is,” he said with a smile. “My fiancée. Are you ready to head home?” The butler opened the door. Cold wind whipped around, sending up snowflakes as it swirled and twirled.

“I’m traveling with you unchaperoned as a fiancée? I thought we were getting married.”

His grin turned her stomach. “So excited about the wedding night, my dear? Worry not, that will be here soon. We’re getting married on the ship. We’re traveling to the coast to pick up a few things then we’ll head back to Italy. Your brother is accompanying us for this.”

Not anything to make her feel better.

The count closed the distance between them and she firmed her muscles to stay still. He offered her his arm. “We need to go.” He dipped head, his onion breath making her eyes water. “Don’t ever question me again, you’ll pay. It’ll be hard to sit with a red ass.”

“Begging your pardon, my lord. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to question the wedding.”

His eyes sparked and she knew he’d caught her sarcasm. And she would pay. If possible, she would spend the rest of her time in her head, recalling her time with Bryn. She should have told him the truth. Told him she loved him.

At least with the sharp wind biting at her skin she had some other discomfort to focus on than her fear of this man and his stench.

“Want to say goodbye to your family?”

“No.” She walked away from all there and strode outside to the waiting carriage. A rented one but nice. Her brother opened the door and helped her inside. Then he swung up, settling across from her.

“Just where do you think yer going?” A low, dangerous masculine voice split the morning.

The growled, menacing question chilled her. Sharing an unsure look with her brother, she reached for the curtain only to have him push her back against the seat with a glower.

“Get out of the carriage,” the unknown male ordered.

Unsure of what was going on, she obeyed and found her father at the top of the steps, the same confused expression on his face as she had. Stepping away from the carriage, she held onto her coat a bit more as she angled to see around the back of the hack, eyes squinting from the sting of the wind.

Four large men on horses sat there. And she recognized them all. Mac’s.

They were thugs. Thieves.

Seamus himself leaned forward in the saddle and glared at the man who’d paid for her so he could torture her and possibly put her into sexual situations she definitely didn’t want to be in. The count gulped and rattled something off in Italian.

With a cluck of his tongue, the burly Irishman waved a pistol in his direction. “Not many people think they can get away from me in my city owing me money. I don’t like people who don’t settle their accounts with me.”

“Who are you and what do you think you’re doing with the count?” Bradford demanded, moving down the steps. “You need to leave. You can’t just come in here and wave a gun.”

Seamus glanced over everyone there and sent her a wink. Rosamunde gasped and stepped back. As quick as he’d winked at her, he put his attention back on the count. “I want the money you owe me. And I want it now.”

“All I have is the money for her.”

“That’s mine,” her father protested.

Of course. Not concerned about her, just the blunt.

“Oh, it’s most definitely mine, Lord Barberton. That and more.” Seamus held his gaze. “I’m here to collect my markers from you too.” A beat of silence. “All of them.”

Her father paled. “I can’t pay you right now, and how dare you do this in front of my family.”

“You’ve ignored my summons for over a month. I run a business and clients like you aren’t good for it. You shouldn’t come into my establishment, buying drinks and women and gambling, if you can’t back it up.” Seamus nudged his horse closer to her, the large beast blocking some of the wind.

There was a moment, a few seconds at least, where she was grateful for that.

He bent and tipped up her chin. “But perhaps we can yet reach an agreement.”

“Don’t make me kill you, Jimmy.”

Bryn had arrived. Her shame was complete.

Bryn saw red the second Jimmy Mac touched Rosamunde. He hated the fear in her expression and the shame. But she never once hung her head. No, not his lioness. She didn’t cower.

He could do for Jimmy to move away from her though.

“What is going on here?”

Harriet Fletcher walked to stand by her husband.

“Yer husband, my lady, owes me a bunch of money for all the gambling, drinking and whoring he’s been doing at my fine establishment, and I’ve come for payment. He’s late.”

“Whoring? Again!”

“Give me my money for my daughter, count. When I have that, Mr. MacGuire, I’ll pay you back with interest.”

“The count owes me money as well, so what are you paying me with when I take what he has for you?” He scratched at his neck. “See, he was at my gaming hell last night and racked up quite the tab. When I heard he was skipping town to head back to Italy today, I figured I’d drop by for a chat.”

The Irish in Jimmy’s tone thickened and Bryn knew the man was furious. He nudged his ride closer. The men who had his back followed his move.

Jimmy looked at Bryn then again to Rosamunde. A smirk flashed before he turned his attention up to Bradford.

“I’ll settle your debt, Barberton, for your daughter.” He leaned forward in the saddle. “You tell me she’s mine and your slate is wiped clean.”

“Done.”

Fury lit Bryn. “I’ll pay it off.”

Rosamunde gasped and shook her head.

“Look at ye, lass. Three men wanting to pay for you.”

Her lips flattened as she held Jimmy’s gaze. “I always wanted to be purchased like a whore.”

Jimmy laughed. “Spicy. I like you.”

Bryn nudged his mount between them, forcing Jimmy back. “Don’t make me forget we’re friends, Jimmy. Stay out of this.”

“I need my money, Bryn. Friend or no, business always comes first.”

“I get that, I do, but she’s off the table. Rosamunde is mine.” Her whimper shattered him. “I compromised her.”

He cut his gaze to her and found he didn’t much care for her shaking her head ‘no’ at him. Firming his jaw, he frowned at her. “Did you want me to lie, baby? Or do you not remember our time together? My mistake. Times. ”

Bryn knew he would pay for that, but he didn’t care. He could take a lifetime of making it up to her as long as she was his.

“But I’m offering her freedom,” Jimmy said. “I’ll pay for her and she can do what she wants.”

“Jimmy, I will kill you,” he rumbled, glaring at him. “Leave my woman alone.”

A heavy sigh before Jimmy angled his horse toward the count, who couldn’t go anywhere. “Let’s you and I have a discussion.”

“Don’t do this.”

Rosamunde’s soft tone hit Bryn square in the gut. He dismounted, knowing one of his guys—Remington, Piers, Henry, or Falcon—would be there to grab the reins. Without hesitation he strode up to Rosamunde and grasped her upper arms.

“Don’t do what?”

“Ruin your life for me.”

The cold had flushed her creamy skin and he wanted to kiss her.

“My life is ruined without you in it, lioness.”

She gulped, paused, and shook her head again. “You feel responsible for me. You’re leaving for America. Go.”

I’m not leaving you, baby. Not ever.

He nodded and settled his gloved hand on the side of her face. “This is my fault, that you don’t feel your worth. I wasn’t ready to accept what was right in front of me.”

Guarded hope lingered in her expression. “Which was?”

“You’re it for me. You blew into my life as an unwanted temptation but damn it, that changed the longer the time I spent with you. You’re everything a man could want. Everything I could ever want.” He ran his thumb along her lower lip.

“I’m engaged.”

“You will be.” He put them nose to nose. “To me.”

“You don’t really want me, Bryn. We know this, both of us do. We had an arrangement. Nothing more.”

There went that fury again. “Nothing more? You think what is between us can just die? Like a candle being snuffed out? There one second and gone the next?”

She blinked a few times.

“It can’t.” His words were a vow. “You are it for me, Rosamunde. No other woman can come close to what you mean to me. I love you.”

“I’m a bad bet.”

He cupped her face in both hands. “Lioness, you’re the only bet.” He kissed her, uncaring of the audience that had grown around them. “Tell me you love me,” he murmured against her lips.

She grasped his wrists but didn’t pull away.

His heart didn’t handle waiting well and he demanded it again. “Tell me.” He didn’t close his eyes, needing to see her, see she was here, with him. Safe.

“You need to step away from my daughter until we discuss payment.”

“There will be no payment. You tried to sell your daughter to a man who has been accused of killing his previous three wives because of his proclivities.” He didn’t look at her father, keeping his attention on her. “You didn’t want her so you don’t get anything for her. I will marry your daughter and she will never want for a single thing. We will travel, love and have lots of babies. She’s found her home, her family. And it’s not with you.”

He brushed his lips over hers, still desperate to hear the words. But she hadn’t said them. In fact, she didn’t say a word. He took solace in that she watched him. He went to step back and leave to get his horse, and she tightened her hold on his wrists.

Cocking an eyebrow, he waited.

Rosamunde slid her feet closer to him, taking up the space he’d given her. She pushed up on her toes and kissed him, tenderly, hesitantly, lovingly.

“I love you, Bryn. I have since the beginning.”

He was complete. “Let’s go.”

Henry held the reins of Bryn’s mount as he lifted Rosamunde into the saddle.

“Welcome to the family, sister,” Henry said.

“Rosamunde! You tell him to take care of us. We’re family.” Harriet’s screech almost had her cringing.

Bryn snorted and leaped easily up behind her, curving his arm protectively against her. “Falcon, bring her trunks. She’s staying at the townhouse. I’ll sleep at your house.” The man nodded and hopped into the carriage driver’s seat after tossing his reins to Remington.

“Jimmy,” Bryn said with a nod. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

“I expect an invite to the wedding.”

And he’d get one. The man had given him a heads-up on what had transpired with the count at his establishment. Jimmy Mac knew the man had been planning on escaping his debts by taking his bride to be and running for the sea. He’d not counted on Jimmy’s connections from the docks and the loyalty of the men who worked for him to rat out the plans the count had thought he’d made in secret.

“Relax, lioness, I’ve got you.”

She leaned against him, her hands over the arm around her waist. They rode through London in the early snowy morning and when they got to Heartstone townhouse both his mother and father stood there, dressed in mourning clothing, for they were burying the duke that day, but they’d waited for him. For them.

Lucien helped Rosamunde down. When his father kissed her cheek and called her daughter, he knew this was what his father had tried to get him to understand. This was family. This was love.

And he planned on keeping it for the rest of their lives.