Chapter 26

Dorothy faced her captor across the breakfast table as the clock ticked loudly. Having already found the doors and windows all secured, she did not add to Lauren's continued amusement by trying them a second time.

"We've been sitting here for more than an hour, Lauren. How much longer are you intending to continue this ludicrous behavior?" she asked.

"As long as it takes," Lauren answered implacably. "But if your Duke is as infatuated with you as he seems, you should be home by sundown."

"Let's be frank, Lauren. We might be married, but the Duke of Dawford barely even knows me. I cannot understand why you'd think he might betray all his principles and overcome his lifelong aversion to your family for my sake. End this nonsense now before any real damage is done."

While she tried to speak with dignity and conviction, Dorothy's words were only met with patronizing laughter. Lauren seemed to genuinely find her very funny.

"You really don't see what is obvious to the rest of the ton, do you, Dorothy? Your husband is not generally a man who would ever kiss a woman in the street, never mind being caught in the act. He is not a man who spends whole days in bed with a woman when he could be at the House of Lords, the Stock Exchange, or with business agents…"

Dorothy turned her head away haughtily as Lauren continued.

"In fact, he is not a man to spend days in bed with one woman. The discrete widows and educated courtesans of London have been quite bereft since your marriage, my dear Dorothy. Did you not know how popular he was with these ladies, if neither constant nor committed? Gentlemen also note his absence at his club and describe him as wholly obsessed by his new duchess's charms…"

Dorothy wished she could close her ears and not hear anything more. The situation still seemed as absurd as it was terrifying. It was hard to believe that any of it was really happening. How had she been kidnapped so easily? How could Lauren be this entirely different—and utterly immoral—person? How did the Talbots expect to carry through their outrageous plan?

"Aaron will never do what you want," she asserted for the umpteenth time. "This is pointless."

This time, Lauren didn't even bother to answer, only laughing again and shaking her head at Dorothy's naivety.

… we have something in our possession that he values more than anything else in the world…

Dorothy shivered as Lauren's earlier words echoed in her head. This couldn't be true, could it? Aaron really had only known her for a matter of weeks. He was an honorable man and would certainly always do his duty. But would he really do more than that? For Dorothy's sake? Because he loved her? At this moment, the thought was both heartwarming and terrifying.

… something he would go to the ends of the earth to protect from harm…

If Lauren was right and Aaron did indeed care for Dorothy enough to comply with his despised enemies in order to save her, it would destroy him utterly. Dorothy knew she couldn't let that happen. She must either talk Lauren into letting her out or somehow physically take the key from her and escape. Neither seemed like an easy option.

Standing up under Lauren's watchful gaze, she walked around the room, examining the rather nautical selection of pictures and functional ornamentation consisting largely of clocks, barometers, and model ships.

"Does this house really belong to your aunt?" Dorothy asked. "It looks more like the house of a bachelor to me. I've never met an aunt who collected ships in bottles but had no lace throws or scented pot pourri."

Lauren blinked, not anticipating this line of questioning.

"It recently came into my family, yes," she replied at last.

"So, you stole it from someone, I assume," Dorothy said lightly. "That's the family business, isn't it? Swindling and outright theft?"

Lauren said nothing, only continuing to regard Dorothy with narrowed eyes.

Picking up the ticking clock, Dorothy examined it, finding it small but weighty with an inscription on the small plaque at its base. "Or does your father sometimes like to go by the name of Admiral Bigelowe?" she questioned facetiously, reading from the inscription. "All the best conmen have several names in use at any one time, I've heard."

"For God's sake, Dorothy!" Lauren snapped. "Don't be so naive. Bigelowe was on the verge of bankruptcy for months. My father did him a favor by offering a fair price for this house."

"Bankruptcy with a little help from the Talbots?" Dorothy drawled. "Old man, was he? Alone in the world? What helpful and charitable people you and your relatives are…"

Something in Lauren's face told her that her guesses were all correct.

"You make me sick," Dorothy hissed fiercely, before throwing the clock towards the glass window as hard as she could, shattering a large portion of the glass, although jagged spikes of it still protruded from the frame.

"Help! Help me!" she screamed, hoping that someone out in the street would have heard the smashing of the glass. "Call the constables!"

"Stop that!" Lauren shouted, jumping up and trying to take hold of her. "Get away from that window!"

Dorothy had already assessed the broken window and knew that escape via that route was impossible, given the sharp spikes of glass and the drop beneath. Still, she might attract attention and aid from someone outside. Or at least distract Lauren.

"Help!" she continued to shout as she evaded Lauren's hands, being smaller but more nimble than the blonde woman. "Help me, someone!"

"I said stop that!" Lauren growled.

"Make me!" Dorothy taunted her, dancing again out of her grasp and pausing before the window. "Help!!!"

This time, Lauren did manage to grab hold of Dorothy's sleeve, ripping it down her arm. In retaliation, Dorothy slapped her former friend hard across the face. The blow seemed to fuel both Lauren's anger and her focus, and a moment later, Dorothy found herself trapped in the taller woman's arms, being wrestled by her towards a sofa in the corner of the room.

"You'll never get away with this!" she hissed, wriggling and bucking against Lauren's grip.

"Oh, we will, don't you worry. We always do." Lauren sneered.

Dorothy shook her head. "Aaron beat you last time, and he'll beat you again," she threw back, infuriating her all over again. "You know it!"

"I don't know why you look so pleased about that particular prospect," Lauren panted, a cruel expression on her face, finally having Dorothy pinned to the sofa with the force of her greater body weight. "You're the one who will suffer for it if he doesn't do as we want."

"Are you alright in there, Lauren?" a male voice called from the other side of the room's second door. "Or do you already need some assistance in handling the Duchess?"

The unseen man let out a devilish laugh that made Dorothy shudder. Who could it be?

"Not yet," Lauren barked, seeming to enjoy the shock in Dorothy's eyes upon realizing they were not alone in the house, after all.

"Just let me know when you want me to introduce myself," the man added in a silky voice very like Lauren's. "I'm ready and willing whenever you give me the word."

"I have everything under control. For now," Lauren called and then dropped her voice to address Dorothy once more. "That is my brother, George Talbot. If you or your husband fail to comply, George will take you back to the park and put you in a very compromising position for public discovery. I leave the precise details of your ruin to him, but any such scandal would be monstrous for you. Imagine, married for mere weeks, the Duchess of Dawford is found already importuning men in parks!"

"No one would believe such a thing!" Dorothy gasped in horror.

"Wouldn't they?" Lauren challenged with a raised eyebrow. "Some of the ton were quick enough to believe that Aaron Clark deflowered you against a lamppost a few weeks ago, weren't they? In fact, that first scandal sets up the second perfectly. ‘The Debauched Duchess'—I can already see the headlines in the scandal sheets. Remember, Society sometimes gives second chances, Dorothy, but never third."

Part of Dorothy believed what Lauren was saying was possible. Another part knew that she needed to lull Lauren back into a false sense of security once more. She made herself go limp on the sofa as though physically and mentally defeated.

"That's better," Lauren said, rising and standing over her. "But hopefully things won't come to that. Not if Aaron is a good boy this time and does as he's been told. Then we can all be friends again. Won't that be nice?"

Dorothy continued to hold Lauren's eyes with her own appalled gaze while her hand tucked away the key she had surreptitiously taken from Lauren's pocket during their wrestling match.

"How can you do this, Lauren? What can you possibly gain that's worth doing such awful things?"

"I've already told you, Dorothy," Lauren sighed irritably. "Perhaps you're hard of hearing or slow of understanding. Money! Money is status, money is power, money is everything! Your brother seems to understand that, even if you don't. George gave a most excellent report of him last night. I wouldn't marry Patrick, but I certainly think he might provide me with entertainment for a time."

"You disgust me," Dorothy muttered quietly and turned her face away.

For the next fifteen minutes, Dorothy sat quietly on the sofa under Lauren's watchful eyes.

Invisible to her captor, she mulled over what could happen next. Aaron would never capitulate to the Talbots, she was sure of that. But what if George Talbot did as Lauren had threatened? Beyond the horror of the threatened assault itself lay many unknowns. Would she be cast out of Society as a result? Might Aaron even divorce her?

No, she told herself stoutly. He would never believe she would willingly do such a thing. Even if no one else in the ton believed her, Aaron must. He had been utterly pigheaded last night by accusing her of conspiring with Patrick, but he was an intelligent and rational man and must surely have seen sense by now.

If only she had gone home to talk things through with Aaron instead of letting herself be waylaid by Lauren… But that was a useless line of thinking. More constructively, she scanned the room for objects that could aid her escape.

There was little near at hand, and Lauren's gaze was now steadfast and suspicious. Dorothy already knew from their earlier grappling that she could not defeat the larger woman by strength alone. To get out of this room, she must rely on her brain more than her body.

"I need to use the chamberpot," she announced a few minutes later, loosening and removing the sash of her dress as if for greater comfort.

Lauren laughed disbelievingly. "You honestly think I would risk taking you to a cloakroom after that ill-judged display at the window? Do I look stupid?"

"Would you prefer that I wet your sofa?" Dorothy shot back facetiously. "It may well come to that after so much coffee. Or should I stand up and ruin this rug?"

Now Lauren looked back at her with frank dislike, its intensity making Dorothy wonder whether this disregard was what Lauren had felt for her all along. Had their friendship last year been only an illusion?

"Spending time with you really is like being with an infant, Dorothy," Lauren commented contemptuously.

"Well, it's up to you." Dorothy shrugged. "I can't hold on forever."

Lauren muttered a few choice words as she went to a low sideboard and extracted a substantial flowered chamberpot while keeping an eye on Dorothy.

"If you need to go so badly, you can do so in here, in front of me," she pronounced.

"At least turn away," Dorothy pleaded, pretending to be shocked when Lauren shook her head and held out the chamberpot.

"I'm staying right here," Lauren insisted, folding her arms and planting herself in front of Dorothy. "You shall not leave my sight for a single moment."

Looking Lauren in the eye with an expression of injured modesty as she took hold of the hefty chamberpot in both hands, Dorothy swung the earthenware vessel with all her strength and smashed it into the other woman's head.

Lauren toppled to the ground like a felled tree, blood trickling where the pot had hit its mark. Dorothy speedily tied up her captor's wrists with the sash from her dress as best she could.

"Yes, you stay right there…" she muttered, seizing a napkin from the table and stuffing it into Lauren's mouth.

She had never done such a violent thing before in her life, and her hands trembled so much as she retrieved the key that it was hard to fit it into the door and quietly turn it in the lock. She did not want to attract the attention of George Talbot, who was likely somewhere nearby and maybe even in the room next door.

Stepping soundlessly into the passage, Dorothy closed the door and relocked it behind her. Now she just had to remember the way out of the house. She closed her eyes and tried to mentally retrace her steps with Lauren upon entering the house earlier that morning.

Taking a decision and turning left, she headed for where she thought the staircase had been, but then froze in horror at the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs.

"Lauren?" a man's voice queried, somewhat crossly. "You haven't left her alone in there, have you? The woman is mad as a March hare, from what I've heard, and she might do anything. We'll get nothing from Dawford if she throws herself out of the damned window…"