Enchanted in Regency Society. Ann Lethbridge
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‘Cry out and you are dead,’ he whispered.
The breath left her body in a terrified rush. He sounded angry enough to shoot her. Disaster. Her plan made no provision for this. She opened her mouth to speak and found her mouth drier than the well beside the barn. Her knees seemed to have lost all their strength.
‘Where is he? Ben?’ he asked.
His warm breath was hot in her ear, his arm a steel band around her waist. He brought the muzzle around to her face. ‘Answer me, wench.’
She swallowed hard, managing to salvage some moisture for speech. ‘He’s gone.’
He squeezed her harder, crushing her ribs with his steely grip. ‘When will he be back?’
‘He left for good this time.’
She made no struggle as he propelled her towards the door.
‘Let’s hope he values your life,’ he said with the pistol still pointed at her head. His body partly shielded by hers, he eased her out of the door. His heart knocked against her ribs, slow and steady, unlike hers, which seemed ready to leap from her chest. One false move on her part and she would find herself with a bullet to the brain. Not a preferred solution to her problems.
After a long pause, he thrust her away from him with such force she fell to her knees. Unmoving, she watched him check the vicinity of the barn.
Apparently satisfied, he returned to where she knelt, close to the spot where they had kissed the day before. He cast her a look of suspicion. ‘He won’t get far. When I catch him you’ll both be up before the beak.’
He was going to cart her off to prison. She reached into the pocket of her skirt.
He levelled his pistol. ‘Careful, wench.’
She froze. Her heart seemed to forget how to beat. ‘I brought you something.’
One eyebrow went up. ‘How sweet of you, my dear. A token of appreciation for helping you yesterday, no doubt.’
She opened her fingers. They shook and she steadied her wrist with her other hand. Beside the key in her palm lay his signet ring, a large solid circlet of gold mounted with heavy claws grasping the Beauworth shield. ‘I was going to set you free. I hid the ring from Ben after you told me you wanted it back.’
The Marquess’s lip curled. ‘Admit it. You lost your nerve. Very clever of you to realise I would come after you for the ring. I suppose you expected me to forget the whole thing in exchange?’
This was not going according to plan. He clearly hadn’t needed her to set him free and he accorded her only the worst of motives for returning his property. Even as it hurt, she acknowledged his right to think her despicable. She swallowed. What a fool she had been to risk everything on his seeming attraction, when a nobleman of his rank and physical beauty could have any woman he wanted.
She’d failed. Again. Moisture burned at the backs of her eyes. She sniffed. Whatever he decided now would be her punishment for letting William and Sissy down.
‘Tears?’ he said. ‘You don’t expect me to believe those are real, surely?’ He sighed and took the ring from her hand. ‘First, let’s see who you are. Then we’ll decide what comes next.’ He grasped the edge of the mask and whipped it over her head in one swift movement. Her hat and wig fell to the ground. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders. Now he would know everything. Hotfaced, she lowered her head, hiding behind her hair’s silky screen.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It cannot be.’
A cool hand cupped her chin. He lifted her face, swept back the hair.
‘Bloody hell. Ellie Brown?’ He could not have looked more appalled to see Satan himself. ‘There must be some mistake. This is some sort of trick.’
The disappointment in his expression took her aback. It was almost worse than his earlier disgust. Confused, she lowered her gaze, searching for the strength to follow through with her plan. ‘It is me. I’m sorry, my lord.’
He reached out to touch her face as if he couldn’t believe what he saw. ‘Hell’s teeth. You certainly fooled me finely. What game are you playing?’
For one mad moment she felt the urge to tell him the whole sordid story, to throw herself on his mercy. But she’d done that before, written to him asking him for more time to pay the mortgage without effect. No, far better to stick to her plan to bargain than beg for kindness. She dashed away tears that had somehow spilled over and took a deep breath. ‘Ben was angry about what happened yesterday. He took all the money. Whatever will happen to Master William now?’
He blinked. ‘Master William?’
‘Lord Castlefield. He got into debt. The bailiffs came and threw us all out, because of the mortgage due on the estate. I was trying to raise money to help him, but it got out of hand.’
His glowered. ‘More than out of hand, I would say, you little idiot. Why isn’t this man taking care of his own debts?’
‘He’s away. Fighting in Spain.’
He cursed softly. ‘Who holds the mortgage?’
She stared at him. How could he not know? Perhaps he just wanted to make her suffer. ‘You do.’
His jaw dropped. ‘Me?’ He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Don’t tell me. You were going to use my money to pay me back? You really are one brazen hussy.’
If she didn’t know better, she might have thought the glint in his eye was admiration. The straight line of his firm mouth and the hard set of his jaw said otherwise.
He looked down at the toe of his riding boots, scuffed and dirty, his thoughts hidden. ‘Why come here today? Why didn’t you cut your losses and run?’ He frowned. ‘Why not simply ask me for help without all this nonsense?’
‘His lordship’s lawyer wrote to you. You insisted the debt be paid or the house would be forfeit. When you said your uncle wouldn’t pay the ransom, I thought of something else.’ She winced as he narrowed his gaze on her face, his fingers playing with the strings of her mask.
‘Well?’ he prompted.
‘I was going to offer to…’ Heat spread from her face all the way to her feet. It had sounded so easy when she had gone over it in her mind. Now it sounded horrid. She swallowed what felt like a feather pillow stuck in her throat. ‘To do whatever you wanted in exchange for the mortgage.’ The words came out in a rush.
The thin black ribbons stilled. The silence lengthened. ‘This Lord Castlefield must be very important to you.’
‘Yes, he’s—’
‘Enough.’ He squeezed his eyes shut briefly. ‘I really don’t want to hear the sordid details.’ He stared down at the ring. ‘I really have been seven kinds of a fool about you. I respected you, Ellie. Thought you were a very different kind of woman.’ He shook his head. ‘You and Ben must have enjoyed your little jokes at my expense.’
‘I was desperate.’
He stilled. ‘Desperate enough to offer yourself to me in exchange for this Lord Castlefield’s debts.’
Spoken so softly, without emotion, it sounded dreadful. Her heart contracted, it grew small, and tight, all the joy and hope squeezed out of it as he laid out what she had become. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m not sure it’s a compliment. How much does he owe?’
Her chest felt tight. ‘A thousand pounds.’ Her voice came out in a very small whisper.
‘An expensive roll in the hay.’ His gaze reflected some kind of cynical amusement. ‘And for how long am I to receive the benefit of your services?’
Shame emblazoned her face. She closed her eyes briefly. What was one more nail in the coffin of her pride? In a panic, she picked