“Iknowshe’s here,” Lucian replied. “I’m giving you the chance to tell me where before I begin smashing things, includingyour face.”
Gemma pulledthe bellpull as hard as she could. She wasn’t about to wait around for Lucian to rescue her. But shewoulduse his arrival as the distraction she needed to escape. She could only imagine that Pembroke was even now downstairs in the foyer, pretending as if he had no idea she was here. She had to get out of this room. Had to let Lucian know shewashere.
A few minutes later, the voices were still booming downstairs, but there was a tentative one on the other side of the door. “Yes, me lady?” Louisa asked.
Gemma bit her lip. Thishadto work. “Please come in, Louisa. I need help.”
“His lordship told me to stay out, me lady,” Louisa replied, her voice shaking with what was clearly fright.
Gemma was frantic. Shehadto convince Louisa to open the door. Time was of the essence. What could she say to get the girl to open the door?
“Please, Louisa. I tried to break the window. I cut myself on the glass. My arm is bleeding…badly.”
“Oh, dear,” came Louisa’s response. “Let me go fetch some rags to?—”
“No!” Gemma nearly shouted. “Please. I need help immediately. I’ve already ripped apart the sheets.”
The moment the door inched open, Gemma breathed a sigh of relief. It worked. Her ploy had worked. She waited for the maid to step inside the room before she smashed the bedpan over her head. Poor Louisa crumpled to the ground in a heap.
“I’m quite sorry, and I hope you don’t have a large knot,” Gemma whispered to the girl as she stepped over her prone body. She couldn’t help but add, “Next time, you should listen when another woman tells you she’s in trouble.”
This time, there was no footman behind her, thank heavens. Limping, Gemma made her way into the hallway and down the corridor, toward the staircase in the front of the house, toward the raised voices. When she got there, she grabbed the balustrade with her free hand, leaned over it, and looked straight down. In the foyer below, three footmen were trying to bodily push Lucian out the front door. Meanwhile, Pembroke hovered against the wall nearby, cringing in fear. Despite the efforts of three grown men, Lucian was standing his ground.
“I will not leave without her,” Lucian thundered, his legs firmly braced apart while the footmen grabbed his arms.
Gemma’s heart clenched. He’d figured it out. He’d figured it out and was here for her. “Lucian!” she called. “I’m here!”
His head snapped up at the same moment that Pembroke gathered enough courage to punch him in the face. Not at all brave of him, given the fact that Lucian was being held by three men. Gemma went racing down the stairs toward the scene as Lucian shook off the punchandthe three footmen to grabPembroke by the collar. “I shall happily murder you now,” he bellowed.
By the time Gemma reached the foyer, Pembroke was a bloody mess who’d fallen to the marble floor. Lucian was still kicking him. In addition to the three footmen, a group of servants, including another maid and what looked like a butler, stood nearby, clearly with no intentions of intervening.
“Lucian, stop!” Gemma screamed as she flung herself into his arms. “He’s already stopped fighting.”
The hatred in Lucian’s eyes abated as he wrapped his arms around her. Another look entirely lit up his face.Relief. Relief and—dare she hope—love?
“Gemma.” His voice was rough. He tucked her head beneath his chin and squeezed her tight. “Gemma. Are you all right? Did that bastard hurt you?”
“I’m all right,” she sobbed against his shoulder. “I’m all right, Lucian.”
Still clutching her to his chest, Lucian glared at the servants. “Which of you knew about this? I’ll be returning with the constable.”
The servants all backed away and quickly scattered, disappearing into the bowels of the house.
“Take me home, Lucian,” Gemma whispered. “Please just take me home.”
O
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Later That Day, The Duke of Grovemont’s Town House
Gemma was propped up in her bed, a smile on her face. She’d taken a long, hot bath, and Anna had braided her hair. She’d also taken a much-needed nap and was wearing a fresh night rail. Lucian sat at the foot of her bed, bandaging her sore foot. He’d insisted on doing it himself.
“I should have killed that bastard,” Lucian grumbled as he applied the balm the maids had given him to her bruised skin.
“No, he’s not worth it,” Gemma replied. “He’s going to gaol.”
“Gaol is too good for him.”
