The Scarlet Bride (39 page)

He smirked. “And what will you do about it, Lady Laura? Fight me? I am both stronger than you and armed.” He lifted the pistol. “You will either come willingly or I will tie and carry you from the house. Either way, we will be well away from here before your lover returns.”

“You may be able to slip into the house alone unnoticed, but you will never get away while carrying me. You will be seen.”

The smirk turned evil. “The guards will not interfere when I’m holding a pistol to your head.”

Worry kept her from calling out. She knew the footmen would come to her aid. But who would die before he was subdued? Could she risk a life to save herself?

For now, she had to rely on her wits.

Moving closer, he came within reach, yet still far enough back to keep her from lunging for the weapon.

She met his eyes. “How did you become so evil? I know you killed Westwick. We found the maid who saw the murder,” she lied. “She has made a statement to the Runners. You will be caught and hanged.”

Smugness flashed to rage on his face. “Westwick was my brother. He murdered my mother as if he’d held her under that water himself.” He rubbed the pistol against his temple. Madness welled in his eyes. “I was orphaned and still he left me to rot, forgotten, in that foundling hospital.”

In spite of his evil, Laura felt for the baby he once was. Growing up orphaned had twisted his mind.

“How did you find out about Westwick?” Leaving the town house with Henry would mean certain death. If she could keep him distracted, she might find a way to escape.

Henry grinned. “The home kept records, such as they were. When I was fifteen, I discovered that I’d been left there by a farmer from Suffolk. I’d thought I was his unwanted son. Imagine my surprise when the truth came out.”

“How much do you know about your history?”

“Everything.” He drew the pistol down the side of his face as he stared down at her breasts. “I learned that I come from a long line of lechers.” Before Laura could see his intention, he stepped forward and tore her delicate bodice open.

She cried out. The swell of her breasts above her corset was exposed. She reached out to claw him, but he stepped back just as quickly as he’d advanced. She clutched the torn fabric together.

“Bastard.”

He leered. “You have beautiful breasts, Lady Laura. Later we shall remove your gown so I may worship your perfection.”

“You will have to kill me before you take your pleasure,” she ground out. “I’ll never come willingly to your bed.”

One lid narrowed. “Still a fighter? And I’d thought Westwick had beaten it out of you.”

Deep inside her, hatred flamed. “Westwick was weak. He had to use his fists to get me to comply. A real man does not need to use brutal tactics to win a woman.”

If the insult hit home, he didn’t show it. Her breasts held his attention. Her flesh crawled.

“Westwick was a spoiled fool.” He lowered the pistol to his side. “I knew what he had planned for you. He would allow the highest bidder some time with you before stealing you back. He thought you’d finally break and be pliable to his demands. But I had my own plans. I couldn’t allow Westwick to take that chance. The purchaser might have killed you. I needed you alive. So I killed Westwick.”

To hear the murder confirmed by his words came as some relief. Once he was arrested, her nightmare would end. She’d be free of Westwick and his evil brother forever.

“You killed him to have me?” She snorted. She had to remain calm. Any sign of fear and he’d be on her like a mad dog. “Surely there are other women in London who would make you a more willing companion.”

For a moment, he stared. “Do you think I killed Westwick just to use your body?” He let out a bark of harsh laughter. “I did not go through the trouble to find and befriend my unsuspecting brother just to steal his courtesan, though bedding you will be an added treat. No, this plan was hatched long before he met you.”

Laura had suspected he was mad. This confirmed it. If he’d planned to kill Westwick before she’d met him, how then did she become tangled in this plot? She pressed on for answers. “I do not understand.”

Smiling, he shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I wanted to take away everything he had—his wealth, his property, and you. You are the key to my revenge, to it all, Lady Laura.”

“This makes no sense. I was his courtesan and will get nothing upon his death. I cannot help you steal his wealth.”

His smile changed to a smirk. “My dear Lady Laura, you were much more than his lover. You were his wife.”

Y
ou should be locked in Bedlam,” she said softly. There was an unsettling glint in his eyes. “As you well know, the wedding was a farce. You helped him fool both my father and me. The parson was an actor hired to play the part.”

Henry lifted a finger. “That is where you’re wrong, Lady Laura. The parson
was
a drunken sot. That part of the tale is true. But he was, in fact, a parson. Your wedding was legally binding. You are indeed Lady Westwick.”

Her body trembled and she dropped into the nearest chair. All the months of thinking she was only Westwick’s whore were false. Was she his wife all along?

“How can that be?” she whispered.

“The plan was simple,” he began. “Westwick would never have legally married you. If he ever married, it would be to a woman of his class. But he had to have you. From first sight, he was a man obsessed. Though he could have taken you once your father died, he liked his games. So I suggested he marry and bed you. We planned the farce wedding for his amusement. He took satisfaction knowing he’d take your innocence and make you his whore while you suspected nothing.”

“Why?” Her head began to throb. “What did it matter to you whether or not I was his legal wife?”

He shook his head. “My dear Laura, in order to access his fortune, I needed for Westwick to beget an heir. Then, as his grieving brother, once thought dead, I would step forward and petition for guardianship after Westwick’s and the mother’s sad and untimely deaths. A babe would not fight me when I emptied its coffers.”

Laura couldn’t speak. Stunned, her throat closed up.

“The day you met him, you all but fell into his lap, a perfect victim—poor, innocent, about to be orphaned. Though he’d spread his seed throughout the land, only a few very distant cousins have any legal connection to his fortune. I realized that you could pull the threads of my plot together. And though you failed to bear his fruit, you are entitled to whatever is left of his wealth.”

The words rolled around in her mind and brushed aside concerns for her safety, the pistol, everything outside of the news she’d received. She was Westwick’s heir?

“How could Westwick fall for such a hoax?”

“I paid the parson well to pretend he was an actor. It was brilliant. Westwick thought he’d gained a courtesan, and I had the wife I needed to steal his fortune. All I had to do was wait for the right moment to end him. After you ran away, I killed him and left the ear bob next to his body. You became the suspect and I was free to continue making plans for us.”

Even as she’d protested, she knew Westwick hadn’t known the truth of the wedding. Much of his torture came from reminding her that he owned her body without the legality of marriage.

“Why would you want to frame me for the murder?” she continued. “Wouldn’t my hanging ruin your plans?”

“No one except me knows you as Sabine,” he said. “I could use the ear bob evidence to force you to do my bidding.”

Laura’s mind spun. “I cannot be Lady Westwick. I cannot.” Saying the title made her ill. She’d rather be a courtesan than Westwick’s widow.

Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a rolled parchment paper. He tossed it to her. “This is a page torn from the church ledger that you and Westwick signed. If you look at the parson’s signature, you’ll see his name. I assure you the man was qualified to wed you. He lives about half a day’s ride from your old home.”

The paper lay at her feet but she didn’t reach for it. If he’d gone to such measures to fool Westwick, she knew that his information was accurate. She’d have laughed over Westwick’s comeuppance if not for the gravity of the current situation.

“Westwick didn’t live to learn of the betrayal,” she said. She wondered what he would have done had he known. Would he have killed Henry? Her? “How stupid had he been to trust you? Couldn’t he see the evil in you, or had he been too blinded by his own wickedness to recognize it in others?”

“Opium was wasting his brain. I suspect he would have died from it eventually. I did not like waiting.”

The weight of this was monumental. She’d gone from a courtesan to a Lady, and Westwick’s estate was hers. Her life was no longer a shameful secret. The nights spent in Westwick’s bed were sanctioned by God.

There was nothing to stop Simon from wedding her if he desired. Though her blood wasn’t old and blue, she was a titled lady nonetheless. No one would question their marriage.

And she probably wouldn’t live long enough to tell him the truth unless she could extricate herself from this danger.

Laura lifted her eyes. Defiance boiled in her blood. “You think I will simply hand over his estate to you.”

“I am not that dense,” he said simply. “I will have to wed you first.”

Wed, bed, and murder. She had little doubt as to what her fate would be. He did not love her. Why then would he keep her alive?

“If I thought you would not kill me, I’d give you everything. Alas, I think the only reason I am alive now is
because you need me. No one will hand his estate to you without my continued good health.”

A slow demonic expression crossed his face. “I will gain the estate with or without you. I have my parson ready to wed me to a prostitute if you fail to follow my instructions. She looks much like you. I’ll not be questioned when I present her to the bankers as the widowed Lady Westwick. With your father dead, there is no one left alive to challenge her identity.”

“You bastard.”

“
Tsk. Tsk.
Is that language proper for a Lady?”

Laura wanted to scream out in frustration. She was trapped in the Harrington parlor with a madman.

Someone had to come along soon. A footman, a maid, a guard. She’d have to delay him for as long as possible.

“Is she the woman you used when you killed Smoot?” His grin faltered. “We know that he was engaged in a carnal act with a prostitute when he was murdered.”

“She has been very helpful,” Henry admitted. “Perhaps you’ve heard her name spoken by the courtesan Mariette. Josie is her sister and the whore-mother of the ignorant mute girl. I paid Josie well to glean information from Mariette about the courtesan school. They speak daily over the back garden fence. I suppose you don’t know that?”

This explained how Henry knew of the shopping trip.

“Mariette betrayed Miss Eva?” Laura asked.

“Not knowingly. Josie is a clever girl. I will reward her loyalty by making her my wife.”

As if he’d let Laura or Josie live once he had what he wanted. He’d silence all witnesses.

“I’ll not help you.” She glanced at the pistol. “You’ll kill me either way. I’d rather it was here than to suffer your abuse before my death.”

He scowled. “Now I understand why Westwick wanted to sell you. You are a difficult woman.”

This time it was Laura who smiled. “Westwick would have been better served to have found a more pliable victim.”

She could see his frustration and sensed his impatience
rising. He’d mistakenly expected her to submit to his will without question. Fool.

“You will come with me,” he said tightly.

“I will not.” For all his evil and bluster, he was nothing more than a petulant, murderous child. She expected him to stomp his feet at her refusal. “You’d better decide my fate, and quickly. The family will be home soon.”

Without another word, he aimed and fired.

L
aura screamed as the bullet ripped through the chair near her head. She dove off the surface and spun to her feet. Her heart squeezed painfully as her eyes met his.

“To show you how serious I am, Milady.”