The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(62)

“My lord.” She curtseyed. “I am surprised to see you here at this hour.”

“I thought I would see if you were in.” The puppy’s head seemed to twitch even further away from Con.

“I have been extremely busy of late.”

Going for rides and walks with me. Con almost smirked.

Suddenly a scream rent the peace of the Park, followed by male voices shouting and dogs growling and barking. Con pushed Charlotte behind him, but the commotion was taking place near the old lady with the baby carriage. Mary and Theo—safe, thank God—were trying to calm the other girl, and the young woman who had accompanied the older woman was gone. Three footmen surrounded Duke, who was snarling at something on the ground.

Charlotte grabbed Con’s hand. “Come. We must find out what has happened.”

A moment later, he slid in between two of the footmen to find the Dane had caught and was standing on a man.

“Get him off me,” the man cried. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

“Don’t lie to his lordship,” one of the footmen ordered. “You helped grab that woman.”

Next to Con, Charlotte stared at the villain on the ground. “You!”

Con looked at the miscreant again. It was the blackguard he’d got drunk the night he’d rescued Charlotte. “Remove the dog. I’ll take care of him.”

The moment Duke stepped off, the scoundrel tried to bolt. Con caught him by the scruff of his neck, swung him around, and punched him in the stomach. The scoundrel dropped to his knees, heaving as if he’d throw up. “Now, unless you want a little more home brew, you’d better tell me where your accomplice took that young woman.”

“I ain’t telling you nothin’.” The scoundrel spat, the glob just missing Con’s boots.

“You think not? Well, you’ve got a choice: You can hang or you can be transported. If anything happens to that female, you’ll hang, and I’ll make sure the rope is nice and new.”

“Takes a long time to die with a new rope,” one of the footmen commented.

“He’s takin’ her to the Dove, on the other side of Richmond.”

“One of you,” Con ordered, “call the watch.”

The rest of Charlotte’s brothers and sisters had gathered next to her.

“What happened?” Walter asked.

“Hal, take Ben and lock this rascal in the cellar at Worthington House,” Charlotte said. “The rest of you take the children back to the house.”

Con looked around to see a large traveling coach stop in front of Stanwood House. The Mertons hurried over.

“What is going on?” Merton held his wife close to him.

“Miss Betsy kidnapped one of Lord Wharton’s servants.” Con looked down to see Theo tugging on his jacket. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“She isn’t a servant. She’s the housekeeper’s niece, and she’s getting married soon.”

“Was she visiting her aunt?” Charlotte asked.

Theo nodded as Mary said, “Her name is Miss Cloverly.”

Con thought of what the whore had in store for the young woman and his blood turned to ice. He glanced at Charlotte. “I’ll go and get her back.”

“I’m coming with you. She won’t trust a man by himself.”

“Charlotte, you cannot.” Merton glanced from her to Con and shrugged. “Worthington will not allow it.”

“I completely agree,” Harrington said. What the devil was he still doing here? And who the devil cared for his opinion? “Lady Charlotte, you may not accompany Lord Kenilworth. I forbid it.”

“You.” Her voice shook with growing anger. “You have no business telling me what to do. Nothing will keep me from going. If need be—”

“Go where?” Worthington asked, striding up, his wife next to him, almost running to keep up.

“Miss Betsy abducted another young woman.” Charlotte turned her slender back on Harrington. Her chin had firmed and her normally soft blue eyes flashed with anger. “Kenilworth is going to the inn they are taking her to. I am going with him.”

“Kenilworth?” her brother asked.

This was his chance to prove to her he could be trusted. That he would not expect her to be less than she was.

“I’ll keep her safe,” he promised. Truth be told, he would give his life for her.

The smile she gave him was so brilliant it made him blink. “I’ll be right back.”

“I object.” Harrington started after Charlotte.

Con grabbed his shoulder. “You have no business disagreeing. It is her guardian’s decision to make and he has done so.”

The man jerked out of Con’s grasp. “I see what’s going on,” he said to Worthington. “You are encouraging Kenilworth’s suit over mine.”

Her brother turned and stared at Harrington. “This man”—he pointed at Con—“has actually asked to marry my sister, which is more than I can say for you. I suggest you leave, before you are forced to do so.”

Con struggled not to laugh or grin. “I’ll need to get a message to my mother and my valet.”

“I’ll see to it after you’ve gone,” Worthington assured him. “Send word if you do not think you’ll be able to arrive back this evening. I’ll think of something.”