The Scandal of Lady Eleanor (26 page)

Realizing Levering wanted no witnesses to what he planned, Ella sent Hannah to the house, assuring her maid she would be fine for a few minutes.

“Let us go inside,” Bradley called as he wrapped his arm around Louisa's waist. The others followed suit: Each man claimed one of the ladies as his own, but none of them treated the women with formal respect; they draped their arms about the women, caressing and fondling as they returned to the house.

“How could you bring me here?” Ella demanded as they trailed the others into the house. Levering pulled her close, although he showed no more respect than did the other men.

“My friends wished to meet you, my Dear. I have told them all about you,” he tilted his head closer so she might hear him.

Ella jerked her head around to look at him. “You told them what?” she hissed.

“Oh, you mean the diary. No, that is our secret alone, but I told them I believed you to be willing to share your affections with them also.”

“You told your friends I would act as a complete wanton?” Ella came to an abrupt halt, forcing Levering to join her before they entered the still-open doorway.

Levering gave her a toothy smile of reassurance. “A complete wanton? No. I said no such thing. I simply indicated you might be willing to participate once you observed the others.”

“You simply indicated?” she accused. “I realize you feel a odium for my father's part in your mother's death, but do you despise him so much that you are willing to use me most ill? Have you no respect for me as a person that you offer me up to complete strangers?”

“They will not be strangers long, my Dear. Montford, Bradley, and Clayton are business partners, as well as friends. I owe a great deal of blunt to Collins. He is willing to accept your charms in payment for some of it. It is nothing personal; it is all purely business.”

“I am a possession—no better than your dog or your horse.” Ella's eyes flashed in anger.

He gave her a soft laugh. In her innocence, she had opened herself up to the perfect retort. “Nonsense. I shall enjoy mounting you more than any horse; whether it be as a dog or not, I am sure I will not care.” Levering's lethal smile returned as he caught her chin in his grip, forcing her mouth to his in a demanding kiss. “Go to your room and freshen your clothing,” he ordered through clenched teeth. “I will call to bring you down later.” To emphasize his point, he brought her arm up sharply behind her back, wrenching it hard for extra measure. “Do as I say when I say it,” he warned brazenly as he shoved Ella toward the open entranceway.

Wiggling free of his grasp at last, Ella stumbled toward the stairs—his violence and her own naiveté weakening her ability to move. She was in the middle of nowhere, at least ten miles from the nearest village or farm with no transportation of her own, and no one to help her but an equally naïve maid.

 

It was suppertime before Louis Levering appeared at her chamber door. Ella would have been happy if he had never called for her, but she did not think that likely. As it was, Levering reeked of alcohol and a sickly sweet tobacco smell, which she had remembered from his father. On the stairs, he pulled her passionately into his arms for a kiss. “I apologize if I hurt you earlier, Eleanor. I forget sometimes you are a duke's daughter and have not experienced life outside Thorn Hall. Collins says I need to treat you with more tenderness.” Ella did not answer—she only dropped her eyes in submission. In his current state, she suspected Levering's newfound tenderness to be short-lived.

Downstairs, supper was a plain cream soup, cold meats, and cheese, but Ella could barely swallow any of it. She saw no end to this insanity.

Apparently, all the men were minor noblemen, too low on the family tree to ever inherit and too lazy to accept commissions in the military or some other such honorable occupation. Levering's father had inherited Huntingborne Abbey, evidently, by a total fluke.Three cousins, all ahead of Robert Levering in the succession line, were killed in a carriage accident, sending them to their deaths in a Yorkshire lake. The women, all except Fanny, were his friends' mistresses. The hunting box was to host a week of decadent pleasure.

Throughout the meal, she could feel Allister Collins's eyes on her. Although he was as inebriated as the others, the man seemed different; she found her eyes drifting to him more often than they should have. He told the same crude jokes as the others, but his seemed less offensive somehow. “I am happy to see you welcome Collins with your eyes, my Dear. I may leave here debt-free if he likes you.” Ella started to protest Levering's assertions, but as she thought about it, if she were to have to participate in a dalliance, she much preferred the depth of character she found in the stranger's eyes to Levering's revolting depravity.

When they retired to the drawing room, the women curled up in the men's laps to enjoy themselves. She sat beside Levering on a settee, tolerating his kisses along her neckline–eyes closed against her body's violation.

“I think we all need another drink,” Collins's voice interrupted the heated moments evident in the darkened room. He held a small tray with two brandy glasses out to Levering and Ella.

Breathing deeply, she reached for the nearest one, leaving Louis Levering the final offering. “Thank you, Mr. Collins,” she spoke softly, taking a sip from the glass. Levering swallowed deeply from his, not happy to have Collins intrude.

“Possibly, Ella, you would consider joining me on the chaise lounge.” Collins reached for her hand.

Ella instinctively looked to Levering, thinking he would stop her abandonment, but he nudged her forward, and she reached for the stranger's hand. It tightened around hers, and he led her across the darkened room. She had no more than left Levering's side when Fanny slid into the baronet's welcoming arms. “Your betrothed loaned me his mistress for the week,” Collins whispered close to her ear, “but I find you far more fascinating.”

“The baronet's mistress,” she said with a sneer. “I should have known.”

Before she could say more, Collins pulled her into him, kissing her tenderly. Feathering light kisses across Ella's cheek, he lingered by her ear. “Lady Eleanor,” he whispered as he continued a line of softness down her neck and then back to her ear. “I am not really Allister Collins.” He caressed her cheek when he felt her reaction. Pulling her into his embrace was purposeful; he had blocked her body from view with his own. “My name is Aidan Kimbolt, Godown's friend.”

He paused, his lips hovering above hers. “Viscount Lexford,” she mouthed in recognition.

A slight nod of his head told her it was true. “I am afraid, Lady Eleanor,” he nibbled on her ear again, “you and I are going to be more intimate than I would like, but understand it is for show.” He lifted her into his arms and laid her along the chaise, following her down with his own body.

“Wrap your arms around me and kiss me,” he murmured. The others in the room were fully engaged in their own pleasures, in various stages of undress.

Lexford draped himself across her, but Ella did not object. “I must get you out of here,” he murmured so softly she needed to listen with her whole being. “I have been watching you for a fortnight. How is Levering controlling you?”

Ella considered a lie, but if Godown knew, then so did Bran. “He has something that will ruin Thornhill.” She kissed his jaw line, maintaining the ruse.

Lexford nodded his understanding. “I have drugged the brandy; our ‘friends' will sleep soon.You and I will simply lie here until the drug takes effect. I cannot send you away in a coach without my new acquaintances knowing I helped you. I am onto something important here besides Levering's blackmail.” He took time for a long, tender kiss. “I arranged for a man in a wagon to take you and your maid to safety; Levering will never know. He cannot ask Bran because you are not supposed to be here.”

“Sir Louis will follow me to London,” she protested between kisses and his hand rubbing up and down her arm.

“You will not go to London. I am sending you to Kerrington.”

Ella stiffened, unable to breathe. “Lord Worthing must hate me.”

“From what I know of Kerr ington, he will forgive you.” He purposely nuzzled into her neck, sliding kisses along her shoulder line. “Just do me a favor; do not tell Worthing about this. He is a better shot than I, and I am sure he would call me out if he knew.” Lexford looked down at her, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, and Ella let out a slow steadying breath. “Worthing will forgive you because he loves you, and you love him.” Things from the other side of the room became quieter. “We will lie in each other's arms for now in case any of my new associates are still conscious on some level. They will see us passed out together.” The viscount gathered her into his arms. “Worthing is one lucky bastard.” He kissed her forehead before lowering his face into her curls.

 

For a half hour, Ella laid against Lexford, the first time she had felt safe in a month. It was odd; she had known the man for less than six hours, but she trusted him with her life. When he stirred and helped her to her feet, she almost cried from deprivation. He placed a finger to her lips and led Ella through the darkened halls to the servant quarters.

When they entered the room, Hannah breathed with relief at seeing Eleanor. “My Lady, I was so worried.”

“Come.” Lexford pulled a cloak about Eleanor's shoulders. “We need to hurry.”

“What about Lady Eleanor's bags?” Hannah protested.

Lexford looked vexed by Hannah's insistence. “There is no time. I will bring them to Linton Park myself in a few days.” He caught Eleanor's hand, dragging her behind as he worked his way to the back entrance. “The servants are loyal to Bradley,” he whispered. “They cannot know I helped you. Listen carefully. A quarter mile down the main road, a man named Lucifer waits for you. He has a supply wagon. It will not be comfortable, but you will be safe. Kerrington's estate is some fifty miles.You should be there by midmorning. Tell him the truth—the whole truth—and he will protect you.” She started through the door he held open, but Lexford's hand caught her wrist. “The whole truth, Lady Eleanor. Tell the captain you are sorry and tell him how much you love him. The man has known enough sadness.”

Ella impulsively kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” She caught Hannah's hand, and away they ran into the night. With each step they took into the unknown, she prayed Viscount Lexford was correct, and that it was not too late to make James Kerrington love her again.

With the late morning light, Lucifer turned the wagon team into Linton Park's circular drive. Lexford had given him very specific orders. He had hidden the two women in a vented box under several bales of hay. No one had pursued them, something Lexford had feared. Lucifer pulled up the teams. Footmen scrambled to have him remove the dilapidated-looking wagon from the entranceway, but Lucifer ignored their protestations. A gigantic hulk of a man, he easily moved the hay away from the hiding place and lifted the lid. Both women gasped, taking in large gulps of fresh air.

“We are here, my Lady.” He helped Ella to her feet and braced her until she could get her legs under her. Then he did the same for Hannah.

Ella pushed the hair from her face; she had no bonnet to protect her head so she released the braid and ran her fingers through her locks to straighten them. Brushing the dust from her cloak, she let her eyes fall on the stately mansion before her. “It is beautiful,” she murmured.

“Aye, Ma'am, it be one of England's finest,” Lucifer told her. “Let us find Lord Worthing.”

“Maybe he is not in residence.” She stumbled forward trying to keep up with Lucifer's long strides.

He stopped suddenly, realizing how weak she was. He caught Ella's arm to steady her. “His Lordship tends his father; he will be here.”

Ella took a deep breath. She had not seen Worthing since the night she laid in his arms.
How would he receive her?

 

James Kerrington had tarried at the breakfast table. Normally, by this time of day, he would be at his desk reviewing the books, but his sister Georgina had arrived late the previous evening, and he enjoyed just listening to her many tales of Devon and her life as Lady Amsteadt. It seemed a lifetime ago since she was here. Despite the fact that her confinement was well upon her, Thomas Whittington, Lord Amsteadt, had allowed her to return to her childhood home, all of them fearing it might be the last time she would see her father alive. He was thankful on multiple levels, but mainly because Georgina might provide moments when he could forget that Eleanor Fowler had chosen another. Because of Georgina's condition, she would spend her confinement at Linton Park. Life would come to his home—a home where death lingered—and James was glad for Georgina's company.