Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(103)

Joyce glanced at her husband and didn’t reply. Cautiously Sara approached Lord Ashby. He was seated in a chair near the fireplace, his knees spread comfortably. A stocky, thick-throated old man with flapping jowls and moist, bulging eyes, he looked like a imperious frog. She felt like an unlucky fly trespassing in his territory. In spite of his fine clothes and his aristocratic heritage, he possessed a grubby, all-engulfing quality that unnerved Sara.

“Explain this,” he said, staring at Sara. His broad hand gestured impatiently.

Sara met his eyes and made her tone as crisp as possible. “I wouldn’t exactly describe Lady Ashby’s actions as ‘mischief,’ my lord. Tonight your wife set fire to my husband’s club, threatened my life, abducted me, and tried to lock me away in your deserted castle to keep me as her own private pet! I’m inclined to have her charged with attempted murder.”

Joyce interrupted eagerly. “She’s lying, my lord! This…this peasant creature attacked me without provocation—”

“Quiet!” Ashby thundered. His reptilian gaze returned to Sara. “You don’t intend to go to the authorities, Mrs. Craven, or you wouldn’t have brought Lady Ashby to me. You and I would rather not expose the distasteful details of this situation in the courts. Your husband, after all, is as much a culprit as my wife.”

“I don’t agree—”

“Oh? Then what are you doing now, if not trying to protect him from the consequences of his past mistakes? Although you would like to argue the point, Mrs. Craven, you are well aware that your husband should never have taken Lady Ashby to his bed, out of respect for me if for no other reason. Although…I will concede that Lady Ashby must have been a potent temptation.”

Sara glanced at the feral, bloodstained woman with disdain. “Whatever his taste was in the past, my husband has no interest in anyone but me now.”

A slight smile came to Lord Ashby’s face. His pendulous jowls twitched. “I do not doubt that in the slightest, Mrs. Craven. And I will consider myself indebted to you—solely you, not your husband—if you will allow me to handle my wife in the way I see fit.”

The two women spoke at the same time.

“My lord?” Joyce asked sharply.

“What will you do with her?” Sara said.

“I will keep her at a remote location in Scotland,” Lord Ashby answered Sara, “away from all society. Clearly she presents a danger to all those she associates with. I would isolate her in relative comfort rather than confine her to an lunatic hospital, where she might be subjected to cruel treatment and also prove an embarrassment to the family.”

“Nooo!” Joyce erupted in an inhuman howl. “I won’t be sent away! I won’t be caged like an animal!”

Sara kept her attention on Lord Ashby. “I only wonder why you haven’t done it before, my lord.”

“My wife has always been a source of amusement for me, Mrs. Craven. Until now she has never caused real harm to anyone.”

“My husband’s face—” Sara began hotly, thinking of the slashing.

“A punishment he deserved,” Lord Ashby declared. “In the past Craven cuckolded many powerful men. He’s fortunate that none of them ever decided to make a gelding of him.”

He had a point, much as she disliked to admit it. “Your ‘source of amusement’ nearly cost me my life,” Sara said under her breath.

Ashby frowned impatiently. “Mrs. Craven, I see no reason to go over the same ground yet again. I give you my word of honor that the problem will be addressed in the way I have described. Lady Ashby will never set foot in England again. That should be enough to satisfy you.”

“Yes, my lord. Of course I trust your word.” Sara lowered her gaze deferentially. “If you’ll excuse me, I must find my husband now.”

“Craven was here with Lord Raiford,” Lord Ashby informed her.

Sara was disconcerted by the news. “Here? But how—”

“They suspect that Joyce might have had something to do with your disappearance. I told them I had no knowledge of her whereabouts. They left not ten minutes before your arrival.”

“Where did they go?”

“I did not ask. It was of no consequence to me.”

Sara was relieved that Derek hadn’t been injured. But he must be distraught, even frantic, not knowing what had happened to her. She bit her lip in consternation. “Well, at least they know there’s a chance I’m all right.”

“They don’t have much hope,” Ashby said dryly. “I must say, your husband seemed quite indifferent to the entire situation.”

Sara’s heart thumped anxiously. She knew it wasn’t indifference at all, but a surfeit of emotions Derek couldn’t handle. He was keeping it all inside, denying his grief and fear to everyone, even himself. She had to find him. Perhaps the best place to begin her search was the club. With dawn arriving soon, surely the men would want to survey the damaged building by the light of day and comb through the ruins. “My lord,” she said urgently, “I would ask that one of your carriages convey me to St. James Street.”

Ashby nodded. “With all expediency.”

Sara left the room, while Joyce screamed madly after her, “I won’t be locked away forever…I’ll come back! You’ll never be safe!”