Reckless in Innocence ~ A Free Historical Romance story ~ Part Thirty-seven

Reckless in Innocence

for my Historical Romance readers ❤ © Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark, this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Reckless in Innocence

(an early Jane Lark story that is not at all associated with the Marlow Intrigues)

~ Read the earlier parts listed in the index

Elizabeth

Elizabeth had dressed for dinner, as usual, yet the night was not usual. It was not usual at all. She could not stop her hands from shaking. She had struggled with the buttons of her dress, and broken a saucer when earlier a housemaid had brought up some tea. Her fear was fast descending into terror. She had chosen this. It was her own reckless folly that had led her here. If only she had never made that foolish proposition to Marcus. She had grown up a dozen years in the last six months. Yet she could not regret having known and loved Marcus, it was her fault, her choice, which had made it turn sour. Yet it was remembering the hours he’d favoured her, which kept her going now. She would escape this and then she would think only of the child she carried.

She looked out the window.

It was very dark.

Would Lord Percy come? He’d not returned since he’d called two nights ago. There was no knowing when he would come back, and that was as much torture as wondering what he would do when he did – and she that was what he wished – to fuel her fear.

She crossed to the window seat and sat again. She’d spent hours sitting here. It was worse in the dark, there was nothing to see, just the image of herself reflected back. Her fingers touched the shining onyx window pane. Where was Marcus? Did he still think of her at all?

Marcus

Marcus rested his shoulder against the lamp-post across the road from the solicitors’ office and watched his brother walking along the street. Jason had volunteered to break in. He had been inside Coulport’s office and had seen Coulport draw out Percy’s file. He knew the inside of the building, the room and drawer to go to. There was no question that it should be Marcus who was left to watch for passers-by, but the lack of action was excruciating.

Jason looked across his shoulder and lifted a hand. Marcus acknowledged his signal in a like fashion, then Jason climbed across the railing and disappeared below pavement level to reach the cellar window.

Marcus looked left and right, searching each end of the street, then he looked at the windows of the buildings either side of the solicitors’ office. No movement.

He was no saint but theft had never amused him, even at the age which school boys saw it as a game to play, to break into a master’s office for a dare or a jest. Elizabeth would have seen the humour in this, if she could see him now, a shifty looking character hiding in the shadows of the street. She would think him mad. His blood warmed just to think of her, of her smile, the sparkle in her blue eyes. He would think of her laughing until he found her. He could not think of anything else.

Jason had disappeared from sight.

Furtively Marcus looked up and down the street once more. Jason would be prizing open the cellar window, he’d had a knife concealed in his pocket like a damned ruffian. Marcus wanted to laugh, his nervous tension leaking out. He licked his lips as he glanced up and down the street again. The properties were mostly businesses, but there were a couple of houses with light behind the curtains. His heart thumped. Somewhere about there would be a night watchman wandering through the streets.

It seemed as though it was an age before Marcus finally saw a light move within a room at the front of the property. It was Jason. Marcus looked about again. No movement. If anyone saw the light then it would give Jason away. If he was caught, then Marcus would step forward. He would not let Jason take the blame alone. How would that sound in the ballrooms of the ton, or the tables at White’s? The Duke of Tay and his brother caught breaking into a solicitors’ office.

Marcus’s heart thumped even harder. The need for action reared inside him again. He wished he’d volunteered to go in, it would be better to be hunting for any information than to be standing here impotent. If anyone did come along he could do little but distract them and hope Jason had chance to get away.

Elizabeth

At the sound of a coach drawing to a halt outside, Elizabeth rose to her feet. Her heart raced as she tried to see through the darkness. There were lights on the coach and in the glow she could make out a man climbing from within. Lord Percy. Her pulse thumped more heavily. Elizabeth heard Lord Percy dismiss the driver of the hired carriage. He intended to stay then. She felt sick suddenly, her senses were alerted to every sound beyond normality as she heard the welcome of the doorman, and footsteps on the stairs. She did not move. There was nothing she could do; nowhere to run.

The door handle rattled, and then a key slid into the lock. She had forgotten that she’d locked it.

The door swung back and Lord Percy strolled in. “Elizabeth, why did you lock me out?” He lifted off his hat and set it aside.

Her heart thumped too hard, leaving her dizzy, making even that simple question impossible to answer.

He removed his coat and threw it onto a chair near the door.

Her fingers gripped together at her waist. “I was about to retire.”

He walked further into the room and smiled, throwing her a devilish, provocative glance. He looked in his cups, it was an appearance she was used to in her father.

“Convenient,” he joked. “Is that perfect timing on my part, or perhaps it would have been better if you had already been in bed, waiting for me and warming it up.” He turned away to seek out a drink, as the heat of a blush burned in Elizabeth’s skin. But she was reminded of Marcus, of that night in the billiard room, when he had been drinking too. She had been concerned then, her concern had been nothing to now. Marcus had always been tender and kind in the only way he knew how. Even when he’d discovered her parents’ plan to tie him down he would not have hurt her physically.

When Percy turned back, a drink in his hand, Elizabeth lifted her chin, claiming all her courage. “I have changed my mind.” Her voice would only reach a shallow whisper, as fear tightened her throat and trapped the words there. She said it again, louder, “I have changed my mind. I cannot be your mistress. I am sorry, but I am not happy here. I cannot…” Her heart thumped as she spoke, but just to say it, to voice her decision, sent an overwhelming rush of relief through her blood. She knew where she would go. She would go to Marcus, swallow her pride and make him believe her.

Lord Percy’s eyebrows lifted in surprise and then he actually laughed. “Is this a joke? Do you think that I would let you go? Do you think you have a choice?” He laughed again, a mocking callous sound. “You have no choice, you are mine now, for as long as I want you.”

It had taken years to stand up to her father. She would not be a victim again. She would not allow this to happen. Her chin tilted even higher.

A mocking light burned in Lord Percy’s eyes as he leaned towards her slightly. “If you try to defy me, do not think that I will let the child live.” The scent of alcohol carried on his breath, and the memory of her father’s anger washed over her. It was at this point, half drunk, but still capable, that her father had been at his worst.

Lord Percy smiled as he pulled away. It was a mask. There was no pleasure in it, or even amusement “If you expect me to keep Tay’s child you had better do as I wish.” His fingers touched her hair, then pulled a pin loose. A single tress fell to her bare shoulder, brushing her skin above her bodice. She wanted to run. She looked at the door, judging how quickly she could reach it verses the likelihood of his grabbing her before she opened it, and then she thought of the thug of a doorman below.

“That is better already,” he purred.

She would not bow to him, she would not give in – but if she played his game, if she chose to play, a better moment for escape would come.

“Very pretty, very pretty indeed.”

His fingers touched her neck. Elizabeth shivered with revulsion. A bitter flavour filled her throat. But when his hand slid lower and tightly cupped her breast, she could not help the instinctive reaction which made her jerk away.

Instantly his hand swung out. The back of his fingers caught Elizabeth’s cheek sharply. The blow stung, yet the indignity of it hurt her more. “You will learn not to deny me,” he charged, “you will welcome my touch, do you understand. You will smile and moan with pleasure for me.” There was madness in his eyes when he spoke. Do not think that I will let the child live. He’d meant it.

Her revulsion turned back to fear as his hand cupped her breast again, testing her. She held her ground, biting her tongue against the scream which flooded her throat. He did no more; proving only that he could, that he had cowed her. But he had not. He had not! She was merely biding her time and planning how to escape.

His hand fell away as a smirk played on his lips. “Go and get undressed, Elizabeth,” he ordered in a quiet threatening tone.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her fingers were shaking as she turned, her thoughts racing through possibilities as she entered the bedchamber without looking back. He did not follow. She shut the door. He did not doubt that she would obey. He thought his threats had persuaded her. That at least would work in her favour; this may be her only chance to get away.

She leaned against the closed door, praying he would not come in until he’d given her the time to change. If she stood beside the door, if she could find something heavy enough to knock him out, or at least daze him, when he came in she would have a moment, not long, but a second perhaps in which she would have the element of surprise and could hit him. It would give her a chance to get away. She did not think of the bully downstairs, she would have to cope with him when she faced him. But this would only work once, and only if she caught Percy by surprise. Perhaps she could catch the doorman by surprise too if she ran down the stairs.

She moved away from the door. She needed to find something heavy enough to hit him with. She opened the drawers, searching for something, but trying to be as quiet as she could, to make it sound as though she was merely preparing for bed. She had to hurry, though. There was so little time. He would come in at any moment.

To be continued…

If you cannot wait until next week for more of Jane Lark’s writing there’s plenty to read right now, and do not miss your chance for the great Magical Weddings summer reading box set, containing Jane’s super sexy story The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel “I you love Reckless, you will love the Jealous Love of a Scoundrel 😀 ” 99c or 99p

To read the Marlow Intrigues series, you can start anywhere, but the actual order is listed below ~ and click like to follow my Facebook Page not to miss anything…

The Marlow Intrigues

The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2

Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3

The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5

The Scandalous Love of a Lord #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback and, yes, there are more to come 🙂

Go to the index

For

the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

Reckless in Innocence ~ A Free Historical Romance story ~ Part Thirty-six

Reckless in Innocence

for my Historical Romance readers ❤ © Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark, this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Reckless in Innocence

(an early Jane Lark story that is not at all associated with the Marlow Intrigues)

~ Read the earlier parts listed in the index

Chapter Fourteen

Marcus

“Marcus…” Jason’s shoulder rested against the embrasure of the open French-door which led onto the terrace. The night was cold for late September. The air was near freezing and damp with mist. Marcus turned away and uncaring of the cold leant his hands on the balustrade where he had once stood with Elizabeth watching the deer. Now he faced the fog, looking out into pitch black.

“What are you doing?” Jason’s footsteps crossed the terrace towards Marcus.

“I cannot sleep. If the night was clear I would not wait for dawn, I would go to her now, but it is too dark to see within a foot from my face and too far to ride with a lantern.”

“There are but a few hours until the cock crows. Those hours can make little difference.”

“Then why does it feel as though they do? Why does it feel as if I must reach her with all speed or I may never see her again?”

Jason sighed, his hand resting on Marcus’s shoulder, “We will find her, and when she is safe and well, you will have a lifetime to repent.”

Marcus laughed bitterly. “I wish now that I had never heard her father’s words. I should have known that she was not involved. I would have known if I had stopped to think. What a fool I have been, an arrogant self-centred bloody fool.” He shook his head. “And I am not like our father. I have spent my life believing that I am, living under the damned curse of it. But I am not. I enjoy it here at Larchfield. There is more fulfilment working in the stables here than there has ever been for me in the pursuits of town. I see now what a shallow life I led.” Marcus looked over his shoulder and smiled at Jason, then turned and rested a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “And you have known this for years. You and Angela have had this treasure for years and hidden it from me.”

Jason smiled. “We have never hidden it from you. You have always been too blinkered to see. And, dear brother,” Jason tapped his arm, then let go, “you have no idea of the full measure of it yet, you have merely peeked into the treasure chest.”

“We ought to at least try to sleep,” Marcus answered. “I intend to ride at a fast pace tomorrow. We shall find her if I have to knock on every bloody door in London.”

“Very well, but promise me one thing, Marcus, before we retire for the night?”

Marcus nodded.

“You will never tell Angela how much she is worth? She would take horrendous advantage of me.”

Marcus laughed.

* * *

Encouraging his horse on at an urgent walk, with a tap of his heels, Marcus guided the animal into the stables of his town house, Jason riding beside him. As a groom caught the bridle of his mare, Marcus leaned forward and slid his leg across the saddle, then dropped with a leap to the ground. He began calling orders to the staff the moment his feet touched the cobbled yard. “My stallion is at Limpsfield, at the Bell Inn.” They had changed horses twice on the ride from Larchfield. “Send someone to collect him as soon as you can. I would have him returned to my stable by tomorrow. Our mounts are from the Crown at Mitcham. Let them rest and take them back. The groomsman at the Crown will direct you to the horses that need to be returned to Limpsfield.”

He and Jason had kept the pace throughout their journey and even now Marcus only intended to grasp some refreshment quickly then saddle a fresh horse and set out again.

“Where will we start?” Jason swung down from the stallion he had acquired from the small inn at Mitcham.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Marcus fought the weariness of fatigue from lack of sleep. “I suppose that we should start at the beginning, at her parents’ home.”

“I have spoken to the neighbours. They have said that they know nothing of her whereabouts,” Jason responded.

Marcus could still not quite grasp the effort his brother had already put into worrying over and searching for Elizabeth. Marcus should have looked himself. She had not, not answered that day he’d called after he’d seen her mother, she had already been gone. Her maid had come to him for help the day before too. He’d wilfully ignored all the signs of trouble. It was that thought which had been on his heels all the way to town. He should have started looking for her then. During their desperate ride back to town he’d sworn he would find her, yet here in London the task seemed so hopeless. They had been riding through streets and houses for over half an hour since entering London, Elizabeth could be in any one of them.

“Has her parents’ house been cleared?” Marcus called as he headed for some quick refreshment.

“It had not, but it could be by now.”

“Then that is where we start,” Marcus hollered across the stable yard, the heels of his boots echoing on the cobble with the haste of his steps.

Only an hour later they arrived at the humble residence in which Elizabeth had lived. A cart, hitched to two solid working horses, stood in front of the house and it was piled high with goods. Marcus drew his horse to a halt, dismounted and tied his reins to the railings as Jason did the same. The door to the Derwents’ former home was wide open and two men were busy lifting out the sofa on which Marcus had spent several hours of his life in recent months. It felt wrong, very wrong to see Elizabeth’s life in pieces upon the pavement.

“Have you seen anything of the family?” Marcus questioned a labourer walking from the cart back towards the house. When the man did not stop, Marcus followed him onto the steps leading to the front door.

“Not as I know, Sir. They had cleared out before the bailiffs knocked the door in. Left all this stuff, though. It isn’t my job to care about the families. If a fool spends more money than he’s got, then it isn’t my problem now, is it, sir?”

“No, no, it is not, but I was a friend of the daughter. I am looking for the daughter, not the man. She has been missing since her father was taken to jail. As you will understand, I am sure, I am worried about her disappearance and concerned in case anything ill has befallen her, if there is any news?”

“As I said, sir, I don’t know nothin’ about the families.”

“Then may we search the house? There may be something that will suggest where she has gone.”

Marcus stepped sideways, he’d damn well search it whether the man agreed or not.

The labourer glanced back at his colleagues who were loading the cart. “Do you agree with that, Bill?” He called to one of the men.

Marcus waited, knowing that the job would be easier done with consent.

The labourer turned back and walked a couple of steps towards the cart. “This gent is looking for the daughter who was ‘ere. He’s after a forwarding address. He wishes to look for himself, Bill?”

The man, dressed in a long grey coat, who’d been organising the loading of the cart stopped what he was doing and walked towards them. “The majority of the rooms is empty, mister.”

“The young woman’s bedchamber?”

“All the bedchambers ‘ave been cleared.”

“What of the man’s office? A letter, an address book, anything that may give me a clue? There may be friends of whom I am unaware. It would give me somewhere to begin my search, if nothing more.”

“The office has not yet been cleared.” The supervisor’s eyes narrowed and his chin dimpled as his lips pursed.

Marcus reached into his pocket and withdrew some coins. “Here.” He also deliberately identified himself, as he held out his hand towards the man. “Marcus Campbell, Duke of Tay. I am a close friend of Miss Elizabeth Derwent. I must search the office and I would rather do it with your agreement.”

The man mumbled something and took the money. Then shrugged. “Take the address book, Y’ur Grace. If you can find it. It ‘as no value to us.”

“Thank you, good man.” Relief swelled in Marcus’s voice, as it also swelled in his chest, and without hesitation he climbed the steps, two at a time, with Jason in pursuit, heading for her father’s office.

Marcus slid the desk drawers open, looking for obvious signs of communication, flicking through papers. When he saw nothing of interest he slammed each draw shut.

Nothing. There was nothing that gave them any information. He sat back in her father’s chair staring at Jason, and then his gaze fell to the desk as he tried to think of what to do. Some sheets of paper lay on top of the desk. He ran the tips of his fingers across a blotting paper. His eyes were drawn to the line of a P and he thought he saw from that the outline of Percy. Had Elizabeth sat in this seat and written to Percy again?

“Jason, look at this.” Marcus pointed at the marks. “Do you see what I see?”

Jason leaned forwarded and then nodded. “It looks like Percy.”

Picking up the page, Marcus folded it and thrust it into his inside pocket, rising from the seat. He was unable to speak. Had she begged the man he had warned her away from to save her? His steps were heavy but swift as he left the house and returned to his saddle. He had to find her. Percy had no conscience and Percy knew that she carried Marcus’s child. Had he decided to use Elizabeth to take revenge on Marcus’s family? Marcus felt sick – this was all his fault.

Their next stop was Percy’s town house.

“Lord Percy is not at home, Your Grace.” The pompous butler intoned.

“And the woman, Miss Derwent?” Marcus did not hesitate in facing the subject. If she was here, then he would know it, and he would not be denied access.

The butler’s face twisted into an expression of confusion.

She was not here. Marcus could see it immediately from the man’s surprise. He had no idea who Marcus was speaking of.

“Do you know where I may find him?” Marcus challenged the butler, without giving him chance to answer his previous question. He had no time to waste.

“I am sorry, Your Grace, he did not give me any particular direction. I know that he is commonly in White’s at this hour.”

“Do you expect him home this evening?” It suddenly occurred to him that Percy may have put Elizabeth up elsewhere. If he intended to make her his mistress then perhaps he had taken rooms for her.

“I am uncertain, Your Grace. He did not arrive home last evening. I have had no word from him today.”

That was enough. That was all he would glean from this man. Turning away, Marcus forgot to even offer a word of thanks in his haste. Percy had her, certainly… but where?

Their next stop was White’s, where Marcus slid a coin into the hand of the porter. But again there had been no sign of Percy for a couple of days.

Frustrated, Marcus turned away, his face reflecting the turmoil that spun in his head. Was Percy with her now? Marcus’s heart hit like a hammer in his chest just at the thought. Where? Running his palm across his face to brush away the fatigue, Marcus walked out of White’s, Jason followed, his feet striking the stairs behind Marcus.

Marcus glanced back at his brother.“I am glad you are accompanying me. I cannot say I would like fear as my only a companion. I have no idea where he may have taken her.”

Marcus lifted himself into the saddle. Jason set a foot in his stirrup, gripped the saddle and pulled himself up. “I have an idea, Marcus.”

Marcus turned his horse and looked at the routes they could take from here, uncertain which direction to turn, or where to go. “Speak,” he said to Jason, he had no ideas himself.

Flexing his fingers, Jason pulled on his leather gloves. “I know Lord Percy’s man of business. If Percy had rented property recently, he would know.”

“You are a genius, Jason,” Marcus exclaimed. “Which way do we head?”

And so another half hour on and Marcus was hammering on the door of the solicitors’ office, his eyes turning to the brass plaque embossed with the names Barriclough, Coulport and Preacher. He had been knocking for at least ten minutes without reply, and there was no sign of life within. They had a way to reach her, and the information was barred from them by a single door. The side of his fist struck the wood one last time.

“I would say that Barriclough, Coulport and Preacher have gone home.” Jason quipped beside him, touching Marcus’s shoulder. Marcus faced his brother. “It will not be too long before its dark.” Jason raised his eyebrows in implication.

Marcus laughed uneasily at that, the tension inside him overflowing. “And what; you fancy theft?” God, the idea was tempting. He looked back at the offices before turning his gaze to Jason again, actually considering it.

“What are our other choices? We can find a magistrate, tell him the story and seek legal access to the building. But I would be loath to do that. Coulport knows Angela’s story. He has kept it quiet, yet if we bring in a magistrate then the truth may come out and the information would be open to the vultures of the ton. Elizabeth’s situation would be equal fodder for the gossips. I would put neither woman through that if there is any other choice. Or we can wait until morning and approach Coulport ourselves. He would speak, I am sure, but not without persuasion, and it will take time to encourage him to talk.”

Jason fell silent. Marcus understood the unspoken question and knew his brother’s desire. He nodded. They would wait a couple of hours, until it was dark enough to break into the solicitor’s office, and then they would damn well do it. A peer of the bloody realm would play common thief. He’d do it for Elizabeth. He’d do anything for Elizabeth now he knew she was genuine and he had been a fool.

“Let us go home. I am in need of a change of clothes and a wash.”

“A meal would not go amiss,” Jason added.

To be continued…

If you cannot wait until next week for more of Jane Lark’s writing there’s plenty to read right now, and do nt miss your chance for the great Magical Weddings summer reading box set, containing my supper sexy story The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel 99c or 99p

To read the Marlow Intrigues series, you can start anywhere, but the actual order is listed below ~ and click like to follow my Facebook Page not to miss anything…

The Marlow Intrigues

The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2

Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3

The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5

The Scandalous Love of a Lord #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback and, yes, there are more to come 🙂

Go to the index

For

the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke