His Lordship's True Lady (True Gentlemen #4)(88)
He’d taken off his slippers, and the sight of his pale, bare feet made real to Lily that he was in her bedroom, expecting to exercise conjugal rights because Lily had no choice.
She did have a choice. Maybe at fourteen, she hadn’t had a choice, maybe not at nineteen, maybe not at twenty-two, but now, she did have a choice. Lily gathered up her cloak as if to return it to the wardrobe and, at the last instant, tossed it through the window and braced herself to climb over the sill.
Oscar, alas, looked up from unbuttoning his nightshirt at the wrong moment and was across the room in four strides. He was stronger than he looked and had six hands to go with his four arms.
“Are you daft? For God’s sake, cease your damned—” He fell silent while Lily struggled on.
She would not do this, could not do this. If she had to face incarceration in an asylum or in Newgate itself, she would never, ever—
“I have a choice, damn you,” she panted, tromping hard on Oscar’s bare foot. “I am not your chattel, I am not your wife.”
He howled, but his grip on her grew only tighter. “You spoke vows, you agreed, you knew jolly well exactly what—damn you!”
She’d resorted to the serving maid’s best weapon, a knee to the stones, but she hadn’t been able to get good purchase, and her blow had gone wide of the mark.
Oscar picked Lily up and made as if to hurl her onto the bed, when the window banged open, and a cold voice cut through Oscar’s cursing.
“Leggett, if you do not unhand that woman this instant, I will blow your head off and enjoy doing it.”
A pistol cocked—the sweetest sound Lily had ever heard, after Hessian Kettering promising doom in the nick of time.
*
One thought stayed the temptation to hurl Oscar Leggett out the window head first: Hessian had been in time to prevent the worst from befalling Lily.
Not too late. By a handful of minutes, not too late.
Leggett turned loose of Lily as if she’d sprouted snakes for hair. “She’s unharmed. She nearly killed me, but she’s unharmed.”
“Lily?”
“I’m well enough.”
“You will soon be in much better spirits, as will I. Leggett get on the bed.” Hessian waved the pistol, which was very bad of him when the deuced thing wasn’t loaded. Bad of him, and… fun. “Lily, we will need several silk scarves. Shall you hold the pistol while I bind your cousin, or would you prefer to tie him up?”
She withdrew three colorful scarves from the bottom of her clothes press. “I’ll take the gun, lest I fashion a noose for yonder noddypoop by accident.”
Leggett moaned, then showed a modicum of sense by remaining passive as Hessian bound him snugly hand and foot, and used the last scarf to gag him as well.
“The staff won’t dare intrude on a wedding night,” Hessian said, giving the bindings a final tug. “Though I suspect there was no wedding.”
“I spoke vows,” Lily said in the same tones she would have admitted to finding horse manure stuck to her boots. “Uncle promised me a dire fate if I refused.”
“Then we have proof of coercion, should we need to reference it in the annulment proceedings. Rosecroft chatted up the parson and got his direction, also the amount of the bribe your uncle paid the man to perform an irregular ceremony. More on that topic later. We must away, Lily.”
On the bed, Leggett squealed.
“You will be captive for one night,” Lily said, “certain of rescue in the morning. Imagine what it felt like for me to be a captive for years, Oscar. No safety, no privacy, no allies, no respect from the people who should have been my refuge.”
Oscar closed his eyes and turned his face away.
Lily stood for a moment by the bed, as if she’d say more. Hessian touched her shoulder. She took one final look about the room.
“Take me away from here, my lord. I never want to see this place again.”
Hessian boosted her over the windowsill, then silently closed the window and got Lily down to the garden. Her bundle and cloak were where he’d stashed them on a bench, a fat marmalade cat sitting atop the lot.
“Hannibal.” Lily conveyed a wealth of affection and regret in the beast’s name. “You have been my friend.”
“Then he comes with us,” Hessian said, passing Lily her cat. The dratted creature weighed a ton and started up a mighty purring as Lily took him in her arms. “We can send for your personal effects later.”
He draped Lily’s cloak about her shoulders, gathered up her bundle, and led the way to the coach waiting for them in the mews. When he’d handed Lily up and taken the place beside her, Hessian put an arm around her.
She rested her head on his shoulder, the cat purred, and finally, Hessian Kettering was home.
*
“There’s a proper breakfast waiting downstairs,” the maid said, “but you aren’t to go down unless you please to, miss. His lordship’s orders.”
She set a tray on the counterpane, the aromas of toast and bacon bringing Lily more fully awake.
“Is his lordship breaking his fast at table?” Lily lifted the lid of the teapot, and fragrant steam wafted up. No reusing the leaves in this household, no serving Lily on the chipped every day plates, no forgetting to bring her a tray in the morning until she realized that breakfast with Uncle was the only breakfast she’d get.