To Please A Lady (The Seduction Series) (29 page)

“She?” Confused, Eleanor jerked her gaze from Mr. Smith and followed his line of vision. She realized with a start that it wasn’t the men on horseback who were the real threat. No, it was the beautiful woman in the lavender gown who sat atop a mount not far from them, a smirk of satisfaction upon her beautiful face. A woman who held them all in the palms of her gloved hands.

Ellie felt ill. Lady Lavender, the woman James had vowed to protect, the woman James had considered a loyal friend, had turned him in to the authorities. Ellie had never felt such hatred, not even toward her husband. It boiled deep within her, threatening to pull her into an ocean of darkness and revenge. Yet she had to merely stand there and watch as the one person who meant anything to her was lost.

James did not run, he didn’t deny the accusations. Instead, slowly, he turned to look at Mr. Smith, and in a low voice he said, “Hide her. Promise me you’ll protect her.”

Mr. Smith clenched his jaw and nodded. James started toward the men and the wagon that rested near a crop of trees.

“No,” Eleanor whispered. She felt as if someone had reached into her chest and torn out her heart. What little strength she had left fled her body and she sank into Patience. She couldn’t even go to him, couldn’t even kiss him good-bye.

Mr. Smith slid his arm around her waist, taking her weight from Patience. “Shhh,” he whispered, holding her gently. “He’s doing this for you. He knows this is the only way to protect you.”

Ellie shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. “No, no, I don’t want him to protect me.”

They shoved James unceremoniously into the wagon, and just like that the carriage jerked to life and James was gone. Eleanor wrapped her arms around her waist as tears trailed down her cheeks. Still they stood there as the crunch of wheels faded and
the only sound was merry laughter coming from the common room in the inn.

“You’ve destroyed the only person who cared about you!” Eleanor screamed as Lady Lavender started to leave on her mount. She’d done what she had set out to do… destroy lives. But Ellie would not let her slink away like a snake.

The woman paused, turning her mount, and heading back toward them. The smug look upon her face made Ellie tremble with anger.

“I play to win, my dear.”

“You’ve won nothing but your own bitter loneliness,” Patience hissed, tightening her grip around Ellie. “Come, she’s not worth our attention.”

With Patience on one side and Mr. Smith on the other, Ellie allowed them to lead her back toward the inn, too spent to fight. She followed because she had nowhere else to go. Everything was gone. She had her freedom thanks to James, but nothing, not even freedom, was worth him sacrificing his own life.

James wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the cell. Hours? Perhaps days? It seemed like years. Utter darkness surrounded him, making it impossible to tell time. Barely any noise reached him, only the occasional moan and cry of other prisoners, but even that had tapered off, leaving behind the eerie scratch of rats.

One meal of bread and water had come hours ago, but even without the lantern he’d known the meager meal had been filled with weevils and worms, insects he could feel crawling onto his hand when he had reached for the food. He supposed it didn’t much matter. He would hang anyway.

If there was an afterlife, perhaps he’d see his mother soon. His sister was safe with the nuns, and Mr. Smith would keep Eleanor hidden. He could die in peace. He rested his head back against the
damp stone wall. But he still worried. Worried that Ellie would return to her husband. Worried that his sister was unhappy and unloved. Worried that Ophelia would continue to ruin the lives of innocent lads.

He drew his knees closer, trying to get warm. They’d taken his coat and his boots, intending to sell the fine objects, but he didn’t care. He didn’t bloody care. The scent of rotting flesh and death hovered in the air, crawling over his skin like the rats across the floor. He closed his eyes and thought of Eleanor. Dreamt about bringing her close, kissing her lush lips, and telling her everything would be well. If only he’d had one more moment with her, one more moment to tell her how much he cared. But he hadn’t dared to tell her the truth of his feelings, hadn’t dared to kiss her good-bye because he knew better than to let Ophelia see his weakness. And Ellie was most assuredly his weakness.

“Ellie,” he whispered. The name tore from his heart, leaving him chilled and trembling. “Ellie.”

He’d wanted to save her, he’d wanted to protect her and provide for her. Instead he’d only failed. His body felt oddly numb, his mind buzzed with an odd clarity. They would not have their happily ever after, but as long as Ellie was safe, he could die in peace.

“I’m James.”
The words whispered softly around him, and suddenly he was a lad once more, tossed in a similar prison so many years ago.

“Will they hang us?”
Alex whispered.

“Most likely,”
Gideon said.

“Blast it! I didn’t do anything!”
His voice echoed around the small room, the lad still here after all these years.
“Do you hear me? I didn’t do anything!”

But he had broken the law this time, and he knew no one would come to his rescue. How ironic that he should end up here once more. Hell, maybe he had never truly left.

“No matter what happens,”
Alex’s voice whispered around him,
“I say we fight together.”

From somewhere down the hall a door creaked open. More bread? Despite the state of his previous meal, his stomach clenched, grumbling in need. As the light came closer, piercing the small window in the solid door, he stiffened. Three men? No, four. His hanging party then? Would they kill him without a trial? Perhaps Lord Beckett held that much power.

“On yer feet,” one man growled as he unlocked James’s cell and swung the door wide.

James thought about ignoring him but realized he still had some fight left after all. He stumbled upright, the chains around his arms clanking with the movement, and wondered if this was it… the last few breaths he’d take. And then he saw him… Eleanor’s husband hovering behind the guards.

He no longer wondered; he knew without a doubt that this would be the day he’d die. He would not cower. He would not plead. He would take his fate like a man. And chains or not, he sure as hell wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“Come for a visit?” James sneered. “Or would you rather hide behind the guards?”

Eleanor’s husband shoved his way between the two men. James had the bastard precisely where he wanted him, within arm’s reach. “You honestly thought I’d let you fuck my wife and get away with it?”

James flexed his forearms, testing the strength of the chains. “Her education was sadly lacking. Someone had to show her what a proper tupping felt like.”

James didn’t even try to block the man’s fist. He’d wanted to draw him closer, and it had worked. His knuckles hit James in the gut. The air burst from his lungs and the cell went black for a brief moment. He could punch, but then he’d had lots of practice on Eleanor.

“You think you could abduct my wife and I wouldn’t retaliate?”

“I knew you’d retaliate,” James gasped, trying to regain his breath. “But I didn’t realize you’d be such a coward that you’d have to bring along guards to protect you.” James forced himself to straighten and held his arms wide, the chairs rattling with the movement. “Really, do you fear a pampered whore?”

“You’re scum and nothing more!” The man growled and rushed forward, fist raised.

Exactly what he wanted. James lifted his arms and swung the chain around his neck. With a quick jerk, he tugged Lord Beckett back against his chest and held him tightly with the chain. “Not so fierce now, are you?”

Beckett gasped for air, clawing at the chain, his eyes bulging. “If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well take you with me to hell.”

“Let him go!” One of the guards pulled a pistol from his jacket pocket, training it on James. His arm trembled so badly he would more likely shoot the wall. Just as he’d thought, Lord Beckett’s guards were completely inept.

Beckett twisted from side to side, his feet stomping at the floor like an irate bull’s, but James didn’t loosen his hold. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he fought to maintain control of the monster. “How does it feel,” James said softly, pulling the chain so tight the man was wheezing for air, “to know that not only will Eleanor be free of you, but she will also inherit your money to do with as she pleases. I do hope she burns your ancestral home to the ground.”

“Move aside!” The prison guards filed into the cell, so many they could barely move. Still he didn’t let go. James needed just one more moment, one more to kill the bastard once and for all. But his moment was over. Suddenly, he was swarmed. Beckett was torn from his hands. Fists hit him in the stomach and face, propelling him backward. Over the sound of knuckles connecting with his flesh he was only too aware of Lord Beckett gasping and choking air back into his lungs, returning to life. He had failed, damn it all.

James fell back against the wall. His body was no longer his own. His knees buckled and he slid to the floor, collapsing completely. The shouts and jeers from the guards and other prisoners merged together in an unnaturally loud buzz. He laid with the side of his face pressed to the damp stone. Laid there trying not to breathe because it hurt too badly. As he laid there he thought of Ellie and how she must have felt when she’d been beaten by Lord Beckett.

“Hold him,” Lord Beckett gasped, rubbing his throat and glaring at James.

Two of Lord Beckett’s guards latched onto his upper arms and jerked him to his feet. James hung limply from their grip. He couldn’t fight; he could barely lift his arms. A stabbing pain sliced through his chest, beating in time with his heart. He was rather sure a rib or two had been cracked. He was chained, outnumbered. He didn’t give a shite about dying, but he was bloody well irate that he hadn’t killed Beckett.

The man shrugged off his jacket, handing it to a prison guard, who took it hesitantly, obviously uneasy with what was happening. No doubt Lord Beckett would pay him handsomely to do as he pleased.

“When I’m done with you,” Lord Beckett grinned, “I’ll make sure I take care of my wife once and for all.”

He threw his fist forward, hitting James in the chin. James’s head snapped back, hitting the rock wall behind him. Pain branched across his skull, shooting down his spine. The lantern light danced around him, the room fading in and out of focus.

He clenched James’s shirt and pulled him close. “When I find Eleanor,” he whispered for James’s ears only, “have faith that she will pay for her crimes. Perhaps you’ll be seeing her soon after all… in hell.”

“Enough,” one of the prison guards hissed, stepping between them. “We need him alive for the hanging.”

“I’ll determine when it’s enough,” he growled.

Lord Beckett released his hold and stepped back. How James wished he could punch that arrogant smirk from his face. The guards released him and James fell to the hard ground, the chains rattling around him. He didn’t have time to move before the man’s foot came forward. The tip of his boot caught James in the gut. Pain rippled through his body. James bit back his cry. He would not give them the satisfaction of making a sound. Instead he focused on the pain, welcomed it greedily, for it made him forget, for a moment, the wretchedness that had become his life.

Lord Beckett started toward the door. “By the by, Mr. McKinnon. I’ve recently had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of an Arabella McKinnon. Any relation?”

James growled low in his throat, his fingers digging into the brick floor.

“She is?” He released a deep chuckle. “How very interesting. Don’t you fret, I’ll make sure that when you’re rotting in hell your sister is well taken care of. We certainly wouldn’t want her to be lonely.”

With a roar James managed to stumble to his feet and lunge toward the door. The chains around his wrists and ankles jerked him back. Spent, his legs gave out and he collapsed once more to the ground. The door closed, the lock turning.

“I look forward to seeing you hang tomorrow,” Lord Beckett called through the window. His laughter vibrated through the hall, bouncing off the walls even long after the man had left.

James rolled onto his back and stared up into the darkness. The world faded as pain overwhelmed him. He lost track of time, barely noticed the damp stone underneath, the scurry of rats across the floor.

As his eyes closed, his body fading into nothingness, he was vaguely aware of the fact that tomorrow he would die, knowing that instead of helping, he had made everything so much worse.

Chapter 16

Eleanor found she liked Alex. Although with his overly long hair and tanned skin he resembled a pirate, not at all like the men of the
ton
she normally associated with, she was comfortable in his presence. He was handsome as sin, but there was a dangerous air about him that sent people scurrying to the other side of the lane when he approached. And she needed someone dangerous guarding her back.