Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

" T his is the room they're in," the innkeeper said, gesturing to the door.

Matthew moved toward it, but Cressida was faster. She flung herself at the door, trying to barge through it. It was locked, of course, and she began to beat at it with both fists. "Victoria!"

Matthew turned to the innkeeper. "Key?"

He nodded and produced it. Matthew wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her back. It was more difficult than he would have imagined it could be—she struggled and raged in his embrace, fighting tooth and nail to return to what she had been doing. She seemed as if, after all the careful maintenance of calm, she had finally lost the control she'd been holding onto.

The innkeeper opened the door. Cressida tried to lunge forward, but Matthew pushed her back so that he could be first to enter the room. He had no idea what he would find, but he knew the situation might not be safe, and he didn't want Cressida to be the first one walking into it.

What he saw horrified him. It was what they had dreaded, what they had hoped they were wrong to worry about.

Victoria was on the bed, her clothing in disarray, her eyes wide and fearful. She was pale, and it was obvious that she had been crying.

The man in the room must have jumped up at the sound of pounding on the door, for he stood some distance away from her, in the shadows next to the window. Matthew couldn't see his face, but by the looks of things, he had been in the process of putting himself back together when they'd gotten the door open. Even so, his shirt hung open and the button on his pants was undone. It was obvious what had been happening in here, and the only question on Matthew's mind was—had they arrived in time to stop it?

The man in the corner had the audacity to glare at Matthew. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded. "You have no right to barge into my room in this manner."

Matthew glanced at Victoria on the bed.

His heart twisted.

She looked like Cressida. She looked like a younger version of Cressida, with a few subtle differences, but anyone would have known that they were sisters. And suddenly, he found he couldn't take it. He couldn't stand the idea that someone had hurt her—not only because he had no tolerance for anyone putting their hands on a lady, but also because it was impossible not to imagine his own wife on that bed in a compromising position. And that image flooded him with a kind of rage he had never felt before in his life.

He strode across the room, grabbed the man by the collar, and drove his fist into his face.

The man—Jonathan, Matthew supposed—went limp in his grip. His feet kicked against the floor. Disgusted, Matthew threw him down.

Jonathan looked up, blood pouring from what looked like a broken nose, tears streaming from his eyes.

Matthew's voice shook as he spoke. "Do you want to leave now?" he asked. "Or would you like more?"

Jonathan scrambled to his feet and tore past Matthew and out the door.

Matthew turned to the innkeeper. "I'll pay for this room tonight," he said quietly. "I'm sorry about the mess."

"There's no need," the innkeeper said. "He paid when they arrived, and he won't be getting any of his money returned to him. I run a decent establishment. I don't allow ladies to be treated badly and turn a blind eye. He glanced at Victoria, then turned away from her, as though he wanted to respect her privacy. "Shall I leave you all to your affairs?"

"I think that would be best." Matthew pressed a bit more money into the man's hand. "Truly, thank you for your understanding tonight. And for your help in finding her. I shudder to think what might have happened if we had been a moment later."

The innkeeper nodded. "If you need anything, you know where you can find me," he said quietly.

He retreated from the room.

During their conversation, Cressida had made her way past Matthew, and now she knelt at her sister's side. "Victoria," she whispered. "What happened?"

Tears were streaming down Victoria's face, but she shook her head. "I'm all right," she whispered. "He didn't hurt me. He wanted to—but he stopped when he heard you at the door."

Cressida seemed to melt with relief, and Matthew felt it too. They hadn't been too late. Almost too late, but they had made it to her side in time to save her.

"Cressida, I'll be right back," he murmured. "Will you be all right?"

Cressida nodded. She climbed up onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her sister, and the two ladies leaned into one another.

"I won't be long," Matthew promised. He hated to leave them alone right now, but there was something he needed to see to.

He hurried outdoors. He had hoped that Jonathan wouldn't have gone far, and he was gratified to find him only a few yards away, smoking a cigarette and kicking at some rocks that surrounded the front door.

"Don't move," Matthew warned him.

In spite of the warning, Jonathan's head jerked up like a bird's. He tossed his cigarette away and tried to run.

Matthew was faster. He caught up to Jonathan quickly and grabbed him by the arm. "I said don't move," he growled. "Unless you're looking to get hit again, that is. Didn't you get enough of that inside? Do you really want to press your luck?"

"What do you want with me?" Jonathan asked sullenly.

"What do I want? I want to beat you silly. I want to call the constables and have you clapped in irons. Fortunately for you, you were stopped before you committed the crime you intended to perpetrate against that young lady. There will be no time behind bars for you, as much as you deserve it. But you'll never set foot in London again."

"How are you going to stop me?" Jonathan sneered.

"Try it if you want to. I'm a very powerful man and I have plenty of resources," Matthew said. "And I wouldn't hesitate at all to bring those resources to bear on the man who attacked my wife's sister. You deserve the worst punishments society can mete out, and if you ever show your face in my city again, I will see to it that you regret that. Am I understood?"

Jonathan glared at him and said nothing.

"I don't need you to answer," Matthew said. "I know that you've heard me. My telling you this was a courtesy. It would have been just as easy to wait for you to dare to appear in London and then punish you for doing so. I am more than capable of such a thing. I chose instead to warn you, so that you might choose not to come back to London and spare yourself the punishment I would mete out."

"I don't need to come back to London," Jonathan grumbled.

"I think that would be best. And I also think you should be on your way," Matthew said. "I'm sure the innkeeper doesn't want a man like you on the premises. You've committed no crimes yet, but if you continue to stand out here where you aren't wanted, we will contact the authorities and let them know you have been harassing and menacing young ladies."

Jonathan's jaw worked furiously. He looked as if he would very much have liked to come up with something to say.

But perhaps the words escaped him. He stared at Matthew for a long moment, and then he turned and ran off into the darkness.

Matthew stood and watched him until he had disappeared from view. He hoped to never see that man again, and he believed he wouldn't—Jonathan had comprehended what he'd been saying. He wouldn't dare come back to London again. Everything was going to be all right now.

Matthew inhaled and then let out a deep sigh, allowing the night air to cool him and calm his nerves. He knew he couldn't stay out here for long, though—it wasn't right to leave the ladies upstairs on their own, especially after what Victoria had been through.

He went back up. They were still sitting on the bed, but Victoria had put herself back in order somewhat. Her hair was still untidy, but her clothing was orderly. She was sipping water from a glass. Cressida sat on the bed beside her sister, her arm around her.

"Are you both all right?" Matthew asked.

"I'm fine," Cressida said. "I worry for Victoria."

"You don't need to worry," Victoria said quickly. "I'm all right. I'm a bit shaken up, that's all."

"Well, we won't need to go to Gretna Green now," Matthew said.

"Certainly not," Victoria agreed. She shivered, and a tear slipped down her face. Cressida wrapped an arm more tightly around her. "I'm so sorry for my actions. I'm sorry to both of you. I feel awful that you had to come all this way to find me. I know you didn't want to do that. I should never have run away with him."

"The important thing is that you realize that now," Cressida said gently. "We can go home at once."

"No, we can't," Matthew interjected. "We'll still need to stay here for the night, I'm afraid. I know you've had a bad experience, Victoria, and I wish I could take you right home. I know you would be more comfortable there. But it's simply not safe to travel these roads at night. I'm sure you realize that—both of you."

He wondered whether Cressida would argue once more, but she merely sighed and nodded. "We should probably stay here tonight," she told her sister. "I'm so sorry. I'd like nothing more than to get you out of here at once, but Matthew is right. It's unsafe to travel these roads at night."

Matthew couldn't believe she had given in so quickly, couldn't believe that she was saying he was right. And also, he was deeply grateful for it. He didn't want to argue with her, and he didn't think Victoria would be well served by an argument taking place right now either.

"Do you want to see about getting anything before bed?" he asked the sisters. "I know this has been harrowing. I think the innkeeper would like to accommodate us. I could ask for a meal to be prepared."

Cressida looked at her sister. "Are you hungry?"

Victoria shook her head. "I don't think I could eat anything just now," she murmured.

"You're sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm not. I'm just embarrassed." Her cheeks were pink, and she was looking away, not daring to make eye contact.

"You don't have anything to be embarrassed about," Cressida said softly. "What happened was not your fault. And Matthew and I didn't mind coming out here at all, did we, Matthew?"

"Not a bit," Matthew assured both sisters. "I'm just pleased we were able to intervene before something worse happened."

"Maybe we could have some tea sent up," Cressida suggested quietly.

"I think that's a great idea," Matthew agreed. "I'll go make the arrangements and I'll be right back."

He left the room again, lamenting the fact that there was nothing more he could do. But under the circumstances, this was what his wife and her sister needed from him—someone to remain close at hand, someone to bring tea and ensure that they didn't have to worry about any little things while they recovered from their ordeal. And that was something Matthew knew that he would be able to do.

He was grateful for that. As hard as all this was, he knew it was far better than feeling powerless.