Once Upon a Masquerade (19 page)

“What’s happened to him?” Rebecca asked.

“I don’t know. I heard a knock on the back door and found him in a heap at our step.” Hazel set a bowl of water and fresh linens on the bedside table, then pulled open the top drawer, withdrawing something from inside.

“How badly is he hurt?” Rebecca blinked back her tears.

“Bad enough. He should stay put for a while.” Hazel eyed Christopher before asking Rebecca, “May I speak with you privately for a moment?”

Rebecca moved to the corner by the door. She understood Hazel’s concern, but she held no more secrets from Christopher.

“Rebecca, what is going on with you?” Hazel asked. “A policeman stopped by earlier. He claimed the Endicotts have heard a rumor that an heiress by the name of Rebecca Bailey has been staying here while they were gone.”

Oh, no. “What did you say?”

Hazel’s lips thinned, and her voice grew terse. “The truth, that I knew of no such thing.” Closing her eyes, she took a long breath before speaking again. “What’s happening? You’ve been gone much of the time for what you say are family problems you can’t divulge. Even when you are here, you aren’t yourself. And now this.” Hazel’s hand shook as she lifted the piece of paper she’d retrieved from the drawer. “Your father had this clutched in his hand when I found him.”

Rebecca Bailey

Heard you been rubbin elbows with the rich folks. Bring us our money.

We been watching the house to know when you arrive. No messages to the cops. The next one steppin outside better be you.

Come alone. If we see Black, he dies.

A streak of fear rocked her to her toes. “My God.”

Seeing her reaction, Christopher took the note from her hand and read it himself before uttering a soft curse.

She stared down at her father, beaten so badly, and then at Christopher, still whole and sound. She couldn’t let anything happen to him, not if she could prevent it.

Hazel clutched Rebecca’s hands in a steely grip. “Do you know who wrote this note?”

“I’m afraid I do.” Rebecca’s gaze rose to Hazel’s distraught face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you involved in this. And I swear I’ll take care of it. I will.”

Hazel’s eyes flared wide. “Now don’t be getting thoughts in your head about doing what these men say. You can’t trust them. That much is obvious.”

“What else can we do? They’re standing watch right outside our door.” Something akin to panic strained her voice despite her best attempt to be brave.

“You’ll do nothing.” Christopher’s eyes bored into hers, demanding her compliance. “Let me handle this.”

Let him handle this? “How? What will you do?”

He turned to Hazel. “Do you have a telephone? We’ll call the police.”

Hazel shook her head. “Mr. Endicott doesn’t trust the things. He relies on messengers and the telegraph.”

“Fine then. Do we have any weapons in the house?” Christopher asked.

“Don’t do this.” Rebecca faced him, fear for what he was proposing inching up her spine like a venomous snake.

“Afraid not, sir,” Hazel answered.

“Christopher, this isn’t your battle to fight. It’s mine.” Between her winnings and what Mary had loaned her, she had the money. Maybe if she gave the men what they wanted, they’d leave. She grasped onto the thought like a lifeline, knowing it was foolish to do so.

Christopher towered over her as if his posturing would give him an advantage. “Even if you had the money they demand, they won’t let you walk away. They have someone willing to pay them to kill you, and I have no doubt they plan to do just that.” He gave a nod as if he’d successfully proven his point. “In the morning, once the sun is up, I’ll go to the police.”

Undoubtedly, on his ship a show of authority was enough to guarantee his men’s obedience. Not here. She opened her mouth to argue, but he didn’t let her get in a word.

“We’re in a respectable neighborhood,” he insisted. “It’s unlikely they’ll shoot anyone in these streets.”

They wouldn’t need to shoot him to stop him from reaching the police. Her father was proof of that. Christopher wouldn’t get far. She knew it in her heart.

“In the meantime, I’ll have my driver help keep watch.” Christopher’s hand came up alongside her neck, his thumb stroking her skin, the motion soothing. “Are we in agreement?”

“Fine,” she muttered although she didn’t mean it. She studied her father, all battered and bruised, her mind racing. There had to be some other way. She had no intention of letting Christopher risk his life for her and her father. Those men wouldn’t let him get by them any more than they’d let her.

Appeased by that one word, Christopher headed for the door. “I’m going to survey the grounds. I’ll be back.”

Hazel stared at her as if shocked beyond words. “Someone has paid these men to kill you?”

How had everything gotten so out of hand? Now Hazel had somehow become involved. “Yes, and I have no idea why.” With a groan, she rubbed her hands over her face. “What’s more, I’ve been rash and foolish. I’d explain, but I’m too ashamed. Although you best know that once this is done, I’ll be leaving here permanently.”

Lines of worry marred Hazel’s brow. “Are you sure?”

She stifled the harsh laugh that threatened. “Quite.” Victoria Endicott best never see her again. Miss Endicott. Did she kill Mr. Gebhardt? The woman was spoiled and arrogant, yes, but a murderess?

Hazel’s reassuring arms came around her. “I wish you could stay.”

“I do too.” Somehow the future had become a dark void. Without Hazel’s friendship and wisdom to rely on, it became only bleaker.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Hazel returned to the bed to fuss over her patient. “I’ll care for your father. You look exhausted. Go rest.”

“I can’t. I should stay with him, be here when he awakens.”

When Rebecca didn’t move, Hazel shooed her away. “Your father may not wake up for hours.” She glanced toward the door. “Mr. Black, maybe you can help. I was just trying to convince Rebecca to get some sleep.”

“I can try.” Christopher stepped into the room, his eyes assessing her, concern shadowing his features. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“What about you?”

“My driver and I will be keeping watch until morning.”

“Go.” Hazel lifted a cloth from the basin of water beside the bed and wrung it out. “I’ll come get you if your father’s condition changes.”

“All right. I give up.” She let Christopher escort her down the hall, her feet growing heavier with each step. Christopher had cared for her and protected her despite her lies. And the only way to save him was to deceive him again. Before morning she would deal with these men herself, one way or another.

They stopped outside an empty servant’s quarters, and he touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry about your father.” His hand caressed her through the thin fabric of her dress. “It’s going to be all right you know.” The gesture was so sweet, an eddy of tender emotions swirled inside her.

“Thank you. I know.” She’d see to it herself. The sincerity in his voice only strengthened her resolve.

She kissed his warm lips, her heart swelling with the love she shouldn’t feel. Large hands smoothed down her back, enfolding her in his arms. His tender response seemed so real, she could almost make herself believe he loved her too.

Her chest tightened until it ached. She couldn’t imagine a life without him, and yet, the choice had never been hers to make. Words of devotion sprang to her lips. She held them back. He didn’t love her, and he never would. The dream she’d been living had come to an end. Time to wake up and face the truth.

She pulled away and looked into his eyes one last time, memorizing every detail.

He stared down at her too, his expression pensive, as if he were trying to understand something about her, but couldn’t.

Did he suspect her plans? Or worse, her love? She sincerely hoped not. Her heart breaking, she turned away. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he murmured as she shut the door behind her and leaned up against it.

She blinked to keep the tears at bay, listening to his footfalls as they faded into silence. Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths, trying to stay strong. Rebecca pushed herself away from the door and sank down on the bed. She had to compose herself and carry on. Lives were at stake. Those men outside weren’t going to just go away, and morning would soon be upon them. She had maybe one hour, at best two.
Think.

Christopher was probably right. If she handed over the money, they’d likely kill her anyway. Unless…she tried to bargain with Otto. He’d shown little respect for his partners, and he seemed to only care about himself. If she could talk to him alone, perhaps she could negotiate a deal. Her six hundred dollars if he informed the police of what was happening here. She had to believe his lust would be tempered with so much money dangled before him.

It might work, if she promised to keep his involvement a secret from the police, although she’d have to convince Christopher to do the same. Yes, she’d offer to pay Otto half the money now, and half after the police captured the others. A kernel of hope took root inside her chest as the idea became a plan.

She stood, prepared to do whatever necessary to keep Christopher and the others safe. After all, he’d protected her when he could have turned away, risking his life in the process. Now it was her turn to protect him.

On impulse, she unhooked the silver chain from around her neck and dropped it onto the bed for Christopher—just in case she didn’t return. She smiled sadly, wondering what his reaction would be when he found it. Still, it gave her some peace knowing a small part of her would stay with him no matter what happened.

Determination in her stride, she hurried from the room and headed to her quarters. The room was empty, save for her father, so she slipped inside. Donning proper undergarments behind her battered dressing screen, she debated whether to change her gown. She left it on. It might serve her well to dress the refined lady. These men believed she’d come into some money. Why show them otherwise?

Rebecca smoothed back her father’s disheveled hair, remembering a time when she was six or seven. She’d worn a frilly green dress and her favorite pink slippers. Her mother played the piano in their drawing room while Rebecca sat on her father’s lap. She could still hear the tinkling notes of the lullaby, and see her mother’s flowing rose-colored dress. Her mother’s dark hair had curled past her shoulders—she’d been so beautiful.

Nestled in her father’s arms, Rebecca had leaned against his solid chest, and he rested his chin on her head. Such a happy, peaceful time. It had seemed like nothing could hurt them then.

Taking a deep breath, she emptied the contents of her reticule, counting out three hundred dollars and leaving the rest in the bedside table drawer. She’d be true to her word and give Otto the final three hundred once he’d met his part of the bargain.

She picked up the knife. The hefty weapon in her palm bolstered her courage. At least she wouldn’t be without any defenses. She donned a plain wool coat and tucked the knife into a pocket.

On silent feet, she returned to the bed and covered her father’s pale hand with her own. “I love you,” she whispered in the darkened room. “It’s going to be all right.”

She turned back toward the door, ready to be done with whatever was to happen, and halted halfway there. For a good deal of her life she’d been living as her father’s protector, instead of finding herself, who she was and who she wanted to be. She’d let others shape her destiny rather than forging her own way. Christopher was right. This had to stop.

Staring out into the hallway, Rebecca spoke the truth that should have been said a long time ago. Even if he couldn’t hear her, she needed to tell her father how she felt. This might be her last chance.

“Father, while it pains me to see you hurt, I can’t live like this anymore. You need to face the fact that Mother is gone, and she wouldn’t want you to waste away your life. Stop punishing yourself. Her death wasn’t your fault.”

Swallowing the tears that threatened to flow, she let her thoughts tumble out as they would. “Mother didn’t abandon us when she died. You abandoned me. I want my father back, the one who used to laugh and tease, the one who used to care more about his family than himself.” Her voice broke. “I can’t believe you left me to defend myself from those brutes. I saw you leave while I struggled in the street.”

With the back of her hand she wiped at her tears. “This is the last sacrifice I’ll make for you.”

She only hoped it wouldn’t be the last thing she ever did.

Chapter Seventeen

REBECCA CREPT AROUND THE house, finding where Christopher and his coachman had taken up positions to watch for the men outside. She’d best slip out without them knowing or an alarm would be raised and her plan would fail. As she moved, she also peered through windows, searching for the men herself. She needed Otto alone. It was the only way.

She headed toward the side of the house, and after some minutes, spotted a faint shadow a fair distance out. The form was short and had Otto’s girth. Could it be? And was he alone? She squinted into the night, but saw no one else.

Which made sense, didn’t it? With more than one entrance to keep in sight, they would have had to split up, wouldn’t they? Her breaths quickened. She would pray that was the case.

Her hand shaking, she unlocked the side door and stole outside. Her heart beat so hard, she thought she might die of fright. She needed to be brave. She could do this. Her legs trembled beneath her as she dashed from the house and into the shadows toward the lone figure. The man’s head turned, and he rushed to her side. Otto. Thank heavens.

“Wait.” She held up a hand before he could touch her. “Wouldn’t you rather keep the money for yourself?”

He paused, his hand ready to grasp her arm, a curious but wary squint to his eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

“I—”

“Otto, get your ass over here.”

She recognized the gruff voice and hurried to go back inside. Otto stopped her with sharp jerk of her arm, and she heard a heavy click. Her gaze darted to the noise.

The muzzle of a revolver pointed at her chest.

The leader of the three thieves came out of the shadows and strode toward her, his right arm in a sling. “We meet again.”

“I have your money.” She held out the purse, hoping he would grab it and let her go.

He made no move to take it. Instead, he let out a whistle. Frank, the muscle of the group, joined them from the shadows coming from the other side of the house.

“Let’s go,” the gray-haired man snapped with a wave of his gun.

Otto yanked her arm and pushed her ahead of him.

They were taking her away.
She twisted against his hold. “No! The money is in my purse—”

Otto slapped a sweaty hand over her lips and dragged her along to a rickety old hack.

“It’s too late for that now,” the older man said.

They tied her hands behind her back and threw her inside the carriage, a cloth shoved into her mouth. She landed in a heap on the floor. Her body tensed as Otto and the older man climbed inside and took their seats.

She eyed the two men. Otto stared at her with greedy eyes. Her gaze shifted to the leader, and his injured arm. When he saw where her attention lay, he smirked. “Your friend did this to me the last time we met. I hope to return the favor someday.” He slammed the door shut.

As the coach lurched forward, Otto cleared his throat. “Harvey, you think the gent will let me have a bit of fun before we’re done with her?” She flinched away when he leaned down and stroked her cheek. “It’s a shame to waste such beauty.”

Harvey’s steely glare came to rest on her again. Anger and hatred glittered in his cold eyes. “Maybe if he has a go at her first, he’ll let us have a turn too.”

Otto’s face lit up, and his leg began to shake. “We should have our fun now, and then take her to him.”

“No. Leave her be. I’d just as soon get her delivered. With the foul temper he’s in, it would be best if we stick to the plan or there’ll be hell to pay.” Harvey’s lips lifted in a cruel smirk. “Besides, we already had some fun, didn’t we?”

Otto snorted with glee and asked her, “How is the old man? We had a good time messing with him, although I don’t think he liked it too much.”

Rebecca glared at them. She wished she could reach the dagger in her coat pocket. How she would enjoy
messing
with them. Her blood boiled, and she twisted about, but she couldn’t reach her dratted pocket.

The hack stopped. Otto grabbed her by the arm and shoved her out the door. She wrinkled her nose from the stench of rotting garbage piled high on the curb.

Harvey led the way into an old wooden structure. They stepped inside a large room packed with card tables and mismatched chairs. Trash littered the floor, broken glass mixed with the rest. To the right of the entrance a narrow staircase crept up into darkness. A counter stretched along the wall on her left, its surface littered with half empty bottles and dirty glasses. She wondered if it was here her father had lost his money, setting this whole mess into motion.

“I’ll go get the gent. Keep an eye on her, Otto.” Harvey strode around several tables and entered a doorway on the left side of the long bar.

“Will do.” Otto winked at her with a leer. His hand snaked beneath her coat and slid down her waist. She swallowed hard, doing her best to ignore his massive paw as it roamed over her body.

Calmly, she twisted her hands to the side. Nausea roiled in her stomach from Otto’s bold fondling as her hand grasped the smooth handle of the dagger. Jerking her arm back, she whirled around with the blade outstretched, slashing the arm of the randy jackass. Otto jumped away with an oath, clasping the scored limb to his body as if she’d severed it off.

“The bitch cut me,” he murmured in surprise.

Wasting no time, she turned, ready to flee to the entrance. The blade was yanked from her grasp, and she was spun around as two strong hands clamped down on her shoulders.

A cruel voice greeted her. “How good of you to join us, Rebecca. It’s splendid to see you again.”

She knew who held her prisoner even before she looked up into Philip Westerly’s mocking blue eyes.

…

Eager to see her again, Christopher headed toward the room where Rebecca slept. He should be tired after a full night awake, exhausted even. Instead, he’d never felt more alive. Warm sunshine streamed through the eastern windows as he passed through the hallways.

He couldn’t suppress a smile. While on watch, he’d contemplated what existed between them. What was, and what could be, until he’d finally seen the light.

The raw emotion he felt toward Rebecca was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It was a powerful mixture of possessiveness, desire…and love. His grin widened. He loved her. The feeling overwhelmed him, warmed him. And when he’d kissed her before she’d gone to bed, he’d caught a glimpse of the possibility that she loved him too. He couldn’t wait another moment before he talked to her, held her. Reaching the bedroom door, he knocked then turned the handle.

He swung the door wide and scanned the room. Empty. Where was she?

A glint of silver on the bed caught his eye and he walked toward the source. Rebecca’s silver locket and his lucky coin rested on top. Why had she left it here? He picked it up, and feeling the etching on the other side, turned the pendant over. On the back, he read the inscription—
Give All to Love
. His hand clenched around the smooth metal, and dread settled in his chest.

He rushed out the door and toward Rebecca’s quarters.

From the other end of the hall, Hazel approached, holding a tray with tea.

Meeting Christopher’s stare, Hazel stopped short. “Is something wrong?”

“Where’s Rebecca?”

“I thought she was asleep.” Hazel met him just outside Rebecca’s room. “I was just going to check on Richard. I’m afraid while I waited for the water to boil for tea, I dozed for a while.”

They stepped inside.

Richard lay sprawled on the floor face down. Christopher rushed to the man and eased him over to his back.

Moisture glittered in the old man’s eyes. “Rebecca, my Becca. It’s all my fault,” he wept.

Christopher’s heart dropped. “Do you know where she went?”

Richard nodded, tears shining on his weathered cheeks. “She came back here an hour ago. She thought I was asleep…I was too ashamed to face her. Now she’s gone,” he sobbed, his body shaking with sorrow. “I should have stopped her, but I couldn’t speak. She told me…” His eyes reflected the pain of discovery.

Hazel turned a worried stare to Christopher. “I don’t understand. Where did she go?”

“Quinn,” he bellowed, calling to his driver as he bent low beside Richard to help him up.

Rebecca’s father jerked away and struggled to his knees. “I have to go after her.”

Christopher’s stomach clenched so tight he felt sick. Rebecca had left him her prized possession… She knew there was a possibility she wouldn’t be coming back. “Where are the men who did this to you?”

Richard stood on shaking limbs, using Hazel for support. “The Rusty Nail.”

The Rusty Nail was a low-class card room on the east side of town. They’d start their search there. Christopher headed for the door just as Quinn arrived.

“You wanted me?”

“I need the carriage,” he said as he strode by.

“Wait,” Richard called from behind him. “I’m going with you.”

“You’re not strong enough,” Hazel murmured, trying to lead him back to bed.

Richard pulled away. “No. I can’t desert her again.”

Christopher needed to leave, now. Already he could be too late, and yet, the look of anguish in the man’s eyes made him hesitate. “Quinn?”

“He can stay with the carriage, sir,” Quinn replied, already swinging Richard’s arm around his shoulders.

“Good. Let’s go.” Christopher wasted no more time. He led the way out the door, Rebecca’s necklace clutched in one hand, and a vow to save her on his tongue.

…

Rebecca’s wrists burned from the ropes that bound them behind her back, and her arms ached. With the gag in place, her throat had become as dry as the desert. Even though Otto guarded the front door and Mr. Westerly—No, he was no gentleman…
Philip
sat at a table a mere five feet in front of her, her legs had been tied at the ankles.

Otto’s hungry gaze haunted her from his position across the room.

What were they waiting for?

Philip entertained himself with the dagger he’d taken from her. He tested its weight in his hand, then tossed the knife and caught it, his movements sure and swift.

She wanted to scream at him. Why was he holding her prisoner?

A movement from the entrance caught her attention as Otto sauntered toward them. He headed to the table where Philip sat, his eyes darting in her direction. He stopped within a few feet of Philip. “Me and the boys want a piece of her before we do the job,” he demanded. Philip’s brows slanted in displeasure, and Otto shifted his weight. “After your turn, that is.”

Philip leaned back in his chair, contemplating Otto’s request. He glowered at the oversized man for several long moments, and she thought perhaps Otto would back down. Instead Philip turned to her. “I suppose we could have a little fun while we wait.”

Rebecca flinched when he rose from his chair, its legs grating against the dusty floor planks. The dagger in his hand, he limped toward her, still favoring his right leg.

He bent over her with a lazy grin. Her heart racing, she stared at the shining blade as he touched its tip to her heavy coat, pushing the garment off one, and then both, of her shoulders. The wool slid down her back until her restraints stopped its descent.

Her breath quivered as the hard steel came back, slipping beneath the collar of her peach dress. It sliced the light material open with a quiet hiss. Philip’s hand pulled back, and the left side of her bodice gaped open, nearly to her breast.

“I’ve always been attracted to you, Rebecca.” Philip’s head dipped low to the skin he’d bared. Although she tried to twist away, his tongue licked her exposed skin in a wet caress that made her shudder with disgust. The pinch of his bite that followed startled her, and she cried out. The gag muffled the sound. In a panic, she struggled to rise and yanked at her restraints, but he held her in place. Philip straightened with a smile, eyeing his handiwork, an angry round mark already beginning to bruise. “Now when Christopher Black sees you again, he’ll know you were mine.”

As if only now noticing Otto standing behind him, Philip waved him away and dragged a chair to sit before her. After hours of choking on the rag in her mouth, Philip relieved her of the loathsome thing. “Beg me to release you. Say you’ll do anything I ask.”

She couldn’t speak at all at first. It took a few difficult swallows for moisture to return to her mouth. She yearned for a glass of water, but refused to ask Philip for anything. Instead, she glanced at the hands he’d placed on her knees and croaked out, “Why are you doing this?”

He laughed as if she’d told a joke. “You know, you’re just like your father. So naïve.” His hands scrunched the material of her skirt, slowly bringing its length off the floor. “He came to see my three friends while we were away at the Henley estate. Made it too easy for them to carry out my orders.” The surprise must have been evident on her face because he smirked. “Yes, he was here, in this very room.”

“You told them to beat my father and leave him on the Endicotts’ doorstep? Why?”

“To force your hand and make you give yourself up.” Philip shook his head. “Of course, I hadn’t expected you to leave town. I barely had time to follow much less let my men know to hold off.” With a disgusted frown, he spat over his shoulder, “As useless as they are, they only succeeded because your dear father offered himself up. Lucky for them, it all still worked out in my favor.” His gaze returned in a leer that made her shiver. “Like you, your father thought this was all about money. The old fool probably still does, even after the beating he received.”

Rebecca tried to keep calm even with Philip’s hands massaging her bare knees. “What is this about, Philip?”

He ignored her question, his fingers inching up her legs, kneading the flesh beneath her skirts, torturing her.

“Please tell me. I need to know.”

The smug smile returned. “Say that again. I’m afraid I may not have heard you.”

She clenched her teeth, loathe to beg him again, and gritted out, “Please. I’ll do anything.”

As she’d hoped, his progress stopped for the moment. “Silly girl. I find it hard to believe you don’t know what your precious Mr. Black is up to these days. He’s been very busy searching out a killer.”