“Now, as to the couple we are looking for…” Harlan offered the description as Benjamin walked over to look out over the growing crowd beyond the pane.
Molly shook her head. “Ain’t seen no one come through the door like that.” She nodded toward the glass. “But ye’ll be able to see for yourself when they do arrive.” She held out her hand expectantly.
With a light toss, Harlan sent the purse flying through the air toward her. She caught it effortlessly and opened it to withdraw one of the shillings. Biting into it, she must have decided it was authentic silver before she nodded her head and tucked it into a pocket in her skirts. “Ye can’t be too careful these days,” was all she offered for explanation as she quit the room.
Once Harlan and Benjamin were left alone, Benjamin sat down in one of the two chairs that were in the room, other than the large bed that was there for obvious reasons. Then again, it hadn’t been contrived with comfort in mind, but rather the pleasure of watching whatever might be taking place on the other side of that glass. If the flowing spirits and loose-fitting costumes starting to trickle into the ballroom were any indication of how the night was going to go, Harlan was confident they were attending a Cyprian’s ball.
“What’s taking so long?” He grumbled in frustration.
“Patience,” Benjamin said evenly. “We were lucky we managed to intercept the maid from the vicarage and learn this much.”
Harlan snorted. “It didn’t help that she nearly fainted away at the sight of you.”
He shrugged. “My Maggie doesn’t mind my size. At least she had no problem telling us whatever we wanted to know.”
“Indeed. Let’s just hope she was right and Matthew brought us to the right place.” Harlan’s gaze became focused on that window, eager for the moment when the assassin would arrive. It was his main hope in trying to put an end to this nightmare.
And save Leah.
When the phaetoncrawled through the streets of Birmingham and then abruptly turned into the mews behind a large building that looked as though it had seen better days, Leah wondered if this was to be her end. “What is this place?” she demanded.
“You are about to find out,” he noted cryptically.
He tossed the reins of his carriage to a waiting groom who was standing by a back door, offering a respectful nod. There was a moment when Leah considered ripping the reins away from the groom and racing off into the night, but since she feared she might find herself in similar dire circumstances she decided to wait for a better opportunity to escape. If she was successful, she wasn’t sure where she would go, because her brother’s house was no longer safe for her. For the moment, she didn’t have any choice but to continue with this farce.
When they entered the establishment, the first thing that Leah could hear was the sound of merriment. Music was playing from somewhere above them, and there were couples moving along the hallway with smiling faces and glasses of wine in their grasps. The only issue that Leah saw with that was that the women were clad in a similar fashion to her, but without the benefit of as many underskirts.
A warning chill traveled up her spine as she headed to the second level with Mr. Bernard. She kept telling herself that he wouldn’t be so bold as to actually take her to a Cyprian’s ball, but when they walked into the doors leading to the ballroom, there was carnality on display everywhere she looked. From exposed breasts to couples engaging in intercourse along the perimeters of the room, lust was prevalent.
“What do you think, my dear?” her escort whispered in her ear. “Care to engage in some fun later on this evening?”
She ripped her arm out of his grasp and sent him a glare. “I will not! What sort of woman do you think I am?”
His smile froze in place. “The kind that resorts to using seduction as a way to wrap highwaymen around her little finger.” He grasped her again, but decidedly more harshly. Next, he snagged a glass from a passing footman. “I think you just need a little persuasion.” He held the glass up to her lips, but she turned her head away.
“If you expect me to submit to asnakelike you, then you are sadly mistaken,” she snapped.
“Tsk, tsk. Such a temper you have.” He set his mouth next to her ear. “But I shall enjoy quenching that fire.”
He started to move through the crowd, pulling her roughly behind him. “Where are you taking me?” she demanded, as she attempted to avert her eyes from the activities taking place around them. It wasn’t until she spied the naked musicians on a raised dais that she realized this was much more than a Cyprian’s ball. It was pure deviltry, and she had fallen neatly into Mr. Bernard’s trap.
When they made their way to a slightly secluded corner of the room, he pressed her against the wall where he attempted to grasp her face and force the wine down her throat. She kept her mouth tightly closed, because God only knew what sort of additional contents might have been added. If she were drugged, she had no hope of resisting any advances that he would make.
Some of the wine made its way into her mouth where she promptly spit it back out on him. His eyes flared and she feared that he would strike her. Instead, he tossed the glass aside, ignoring when it shattered on the floor. “It’s better this way,” he breathed heavily, as if her refusal was exciting him. She wanted to be sick. “Tell me about your lover, Miss Lindquist. Did you like it when he slid his cock inside you? What about when he—”
She closed her eyes in an effort to block out his words, but the pressure against her abruptly ceased.
Her gaze flew open just as she saw Mr. Bernard being flung away from her. His despicable face was replaced by one that made her sob in stark relief. “Harlan.” She took a step forward and fell into his embrace, throwing her arms around his neck.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he uttered huskily.
She nodded fervently. Clinging to him, he led her out the terrace doors while she glanced back and saw Benjamin dragging the limp body of Mr. Bernard away. She hoped that he hadn’t killed the cretin, but then, perhaps she didn’t care if he had.
Together, Leah and Harlan rushed toward the back of the establishment where she spied a familiar man sitting on top of the coach. Matthew tipped his hat at her. “Good to see you again, Miss Lindquist.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “You too, Matthew.”
Once she was inside the carriage, she recalled the first time she’d sat across from Harlan. She had been dizzied from the blow to the head, but distrustful of him all the same. Now, she was grateful that he was there, saving her from the worst fate she could comprehend.
