The Accidental Mistress (38 page)

Dashing sideways, she sprinted toward the rear hallway, hoping somehow she could outrun them both long enough to still get away. But like a fox being hunted by a pack of merciless hounds, she soon found herself cornered. A scream echoed from her throat when Chaulk's hard arms curved around her waist and brought her to a halt.

Spinning her toward him, his hand came up and cuffed her across the face—hard. Pain exploded in her head, her ears ringing like church bells. "What did I say about disobeying me?" he bellowed.

Despite her misery, she refused to cringe before him.
Let him do his worst,
she thought.
Let him beat me to death, since I would prefer it to the abuse I will suffer at Faylor's vile hands.

But her hopes were dashed yet again when Chaulk lowered his hand to his side. "I knew you'd try something. But it didn't work, did it? Back upstairs with you until the ceremony. After all, you know what they say about it being bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding." He displayed his teeth in a feral grin.

Faylor smiled as well, lustful anticipation gleaming in his dark gaze. He raked his eyes over her body in a way that left her feeling violated.

Caught in her stepfather's steely grip, she was marched back up to her room. She thought he would shove her inside and lock the door, but to her further horror, he dismissed the serving girl and had a pair of his most trusted footmen come in to scour the room for anything she might use as a weapon, or as a further means of escape. When the room had been stripped bare, including the sheets and blankets on the bed, they left, imprisoning her inside.

Sinking onto the naked mattress, she hugged her arms around herself and wondered how she was possibly going to survive the ordeal to come.

* * * * *

An hour later, Ethan rode his horse up the lane toward the entrance of Bainbridge Manor. A large house, the dwelling was constructed of solid Cornish stone, rising heavy and gray against the rugged, rocky landscape and wide, blue sky. Cold and strong, the wind whipped his hair and exposed skin, the scent of brine filling his nostrils—an indication of just how close he was to the sea.

So this is where Lily was raised,
he mused, knowing suddenly how much the wild, uncompromising territory suited her. An environment such as this demanded strength, and his beautiful Lily had that and so much more.

Now he was here to save her, and claim her as his own at the same time. Swinging down from his mount, he ignored the stares of a pair of servants as he mounted the front steps. Lifting the knocker, he gave a powerful rap.

The broad wooden door creaked faintly as it swung open, a somewhat grizzled middle-aged man pinning him with an inquisitive gaze. "Aye? Who's calling?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "The Marquis of Vessey. I am here to see Miss Lily."

The man's eyes rounded like those of an owl, his mouth taking on a similar hooting shape. "M-Miss Lily ain't here. Everybody knows that. She drowned last spring."

"I believe she just unexpectedly returned from the dead, did she not?" he stated in an unequivocal tone, watching an awareness of the truth flash in the older man's gaze. "Now, let me inside."

The servant—obviously under orders to keep out strangers—tried to block Ethan's entrance. Larger, stronger, and far more fit, Ethan had no difficulty forcing open the door and stepping into the entry hall.

"You aren't welcome here," the butler complained. "The master isn't going to like this."

Ethan ignored the warning. "Inform Mrs … . Miss Bainbridge, that she has a caller."

"Who the devil are you?" demanded a new voice, one that was silky yet full of menace.

Turning, Ethan glanced across the hall as a handsome, dark-haired man strode out of a nearby room.
Ah, this must be the stepfather,
he mused. "As I already informed your man, I am the Marquis of Vessey and I have come for Lily."

Chaulk blinked, shifting easily into a lie. "You have me at a loss, since my stepdaughter is not here."

"Of course she is here. You came to London and forced her out of her townhouse, coercing her with some threat, I'm sure. I've been tracking you for days, hearing some very interesting reports along the way about two men and the redheaded young woman accompanying them. I also know she attempted to contact me and you prevented her from sending the note. Now tell me where she is."

A sneer turned up the edges of Chaulk's mouth. "Her present location is none of your concern, my lord. Apparently you want her back in your bed, but she has made other plans. My stepdaughter is to be married this very afternoon to the local squire to whom she was promised many months ago. Last spring, she had a few reservations and ran away. She has since had a change of heart, has she not, Faylor?"

Just then, another man—the squire, he presumed—stepped out of a nearby room. Brawny, with rough-hewn features, he reminded Ethan of one of the oxen his tenants sometimes used to plow the fields—though to give Faylor some credit, he did not appear to be quite as lacking in intelligence as the animals. Folding his arms over his heavy chest, Faylor glared, hostility radiating from his stance and gaze. "Be gone," he spat.

Ethan stood his ground. He'd dealt with bullies before and knew the type. Despite being outweighed by several stone, his fighting skills were well up to the challenge should matters come to that. "Oh, I shall leave and gladly, as soon as I have Lily with me."

Striding quickly forward, he headed for the staircase. But Faylor moved just as fast and blocked his way. "You are not going anywhere."

"I would advise you to stand aside, if you do not wish to suffer an injury."

Faylor shared an amused glance with Chaulk. "An injury, is it? I'd like to see you try. Otherwise, slink away and leave my woman to me."

"She is not your woman. Lily is, and always will be, mine," Ethan replied in a deadly quiet tone that would have been warning enough for most.

Instead the squire smirked. "Is that right? Well, we'll see who she ends up spreading her legs for tonight." Sharing another jovial look with Chaulk, Faylor threw back his head and laughed.

He hadn't quite finished the guffaw when Ethan ended it for him by driving his fist hard into the big ox's belly. The squire wheezed out a harsh, gasping breath, bending double in pain. Rather than give him so much as a second to recover, Ethan shifted angles and threw his strength behind a powerful uppercut to the jaw, then another blow in the opposite direction.

The squire staggered slightly but maintained his footing. Red droplets leaked out of his nose, splattering downward to stain the white linen of his neckcloth. Swiping a hand over the top of his lip to clear away the blood, he gazed at the damage in obvious shock. Up came his head, his facial muscles tight with outrage, fury burning like coals in his gaze.

Just then, Ethan heard rushing footsteps on the landing above and glanced up to see a welcome sight. "Lily! Thank God, are you all right?"

"I am now," she called down, gripping the banister. "Whatever they've told you about me, it's a lie. I'm here against my will and don't want to marry him," she said pointing a finger at the squire. "Please, Ethan, please take me away."

"Gladly. It's why I've come."

"The hell she's going with you," roared Faylor.

Ethan heard Lily scream, the sound echoing around the entry hall at the same instant the squire launched himself forward. Moving fast, Ethan leapt back to elude him but was too late. Suddenly pinned inside Faylor's bearlike grip, he wrestled with him for a long moment before they crashed together to the floor, the squire's massive bulk landing on top. Pain ricocheted through his ribs and back, but Ethan ignored it and brought up his fists to pound them into the other man's head. But the squire didn't resemble an ox for nothing, easily shaking off the punishing blows.

Dimly, Ethan heard Lily cry out his name. He wanted to respond, but found his world narrowing fast as Faylor's heavy hand wrapped around his throat and began to squeeze. Sucking in a desperate breath, Ethan struggled, realizing that the man's hold was cutting off his air. Curling his fingers around the brute's grasp, he pried and pulled to break his hold. A loud humming rang out in his ears, spots dancing before his eyes, his consciousness wavering fast. Acting on instinct, he reached up and clasped the squire's face between his palms. Without mercy, he dug his thumbs hard into his opponent's eyes.

Faylor screamed and let go, reeling back in agony.

Shaking off his breathlessness and pain, Ethan rose and pushed the squire completely off him. Bringing up his fists, he landed another blow, this one connecting with a jolt that reverberated all the way up his arm. Faylor blinked and groaned, weaving where he sat. Panting, Ethan stood, waiting to see if the other man had more fight in him. But Faylor was through, his eyes rolling backward in his head seconds before he toppled over in an unconscious sprawl across the floor.

Fists still clenched, Ethan whirled to find Lily.

The hem of her robe billowed around her ankles as she raced down the stairs. As she ran full tilt toward him, neither of them noticed Chaulk. Quick as a cobra, her stepfather reached forward and grabbed her tightly around the waist. Ethan watched, fury rising as she cried out and struggled to break Chaulk's grip without success.

"Let her go, Chaulk," he demanded. "Or would you prefer to end up like your friend?"

Chaulk cast a quick glance at Faylor's prostrate form, then back up to meet Ethan's gaze. "You're not taking her. She is my ticket to a tidy sum of money, and I don't intend to be cheated out of it."

"Don't give him a thing," Lily said, continuing to fight against her stepfather's hold. "He's a bully and a cad, and deserves nothing."

"You're right on both scores, my dear," Ethan said. "But as for money, I would pay any amount to set you free. To me, you are more priceless than rubies and pearls."

Chaulk smiled. "A wise man, your lover. Well then, how much for her?"

"No, Ethan. He's a vulture. If you give him a pence, he'll be back for a pound."

Chaulk gave her a shake. "Shut up, or have you no sense at all? And how in the blazes did you get free of your room? I thought we had you locked up tight."

Her lips curled back in a fearless smile. "I found a hairpin on the floor and worked the lock. You think yourself smart, but you're nothing but a cowardly, dull-witted conniver."

Chaulk's lips thinned at the insult, his arms tightening enough to make her whimper in pain.

Ethan stalked forward, intending to put an end to the situation. At the same instant, Lily raised her foot and gave a backward kick worthy of a mule. Her stepfather bellowed and loosened his hold, enough for Lily to wrench free.

Chaulk straightened just in time to meet the business end of Ethan's fist, which struck him square in the jaw. Like the squire before him, Chaulk swayed for a long moment, his eyes glazing over, before he crashed to the floor in an unconscious heap.

Lily stared at her stepfather in shock and relief, trying to take in the fact that he was truly vanquished. Turning, she launched herself into Ethan's arms. With a reassuring murmur, he caught her close and lifted her off her feet to cradle her against his body. Burying her face against his neck, she breathed in his warmth and strength. "Ethan, you're here, you saved me. I didn't think you would come," she said, tears dampening her cheeks. "I didn't think you knew."

"I knew," he murmured, stroking a hand over her back. "Though too late to stop Chaulk and Faylor, and for that I am sorry. So sorry."

"It doesn't matter, not anymore. You've dealt with them admirably. Just take me home with you; that's the only place I want to be."

"That's where you belong. But first there is something I must do."

"And what is that?"

With infinite tenderness, he touched his lips to hers and showed her exactly what he meant.

* * * * *

An hour later, dressed in a gown and cloak, Lily leaned back against the worn leather squabs of the coach that was taking her and Ethan toward London. Although the hired vehicle was not nearly as fine as any of Ethan's own coaches, she was nonetheless grateful for use of the conveyance. When one of the wheels hit a rough patch of road, though, and bounced her up—then down—hard against the seat, she wondered whether she had been too generous in her initial appreciation. Rubbing a hand against her hip, she caught Ethan's gaze.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concern, and some much deeper emotion, gleaming in his amber eyes.

"It was only a rut. The roads are always muddy this time of year."

"That is not what I meant," he said, his voice as rich and velvety as a dish of morning chocolate.

The sound curled inside her, warming her from the inside out.

"What I meant," he continued, "is are you all right? How badly did they hurt you, Lily? Did Faylor touch you?"

She shook her head. "No, he never came near, at least not in the way you mean. Other than some bruises, I suffered no lasting damage."

Tension eased visibly from his frame before he shifted closer to her on the seat. "That's good, because otherwise I would need to go back and do more than knock him senseless."

She smiled inwardly, remembering the small jolt of satisfaction she'd experienced when she and Ethan had come back downstairs, after going to her room so she could change clothes and gather her meager possessions, to find Faylor and her stepfather still lying insensible on the entry-hall floor. The servants had given Ethan looks of respect as she and Ethan walked from the house.

Gently, he laid his palm against the uninjured side of her face and slowly stroked a thumb over her cheek. "I swear that no one will ever hurt you again. In that I make you my most solemn vow."

She trembled, a rush of emotion welling up within her. "Oh God, Ethan, I was so scared. I thought I could handle things, but the more time that passed, the worse everything became."

"Shh," he hushed, brushing his lips against hers before moving to draw her into his arms. "It's over now," he reassured her, "and you are to do everything in your power to put these last few days out of your mind. All will be well again, you will see."