Mastering The Marquess (Bound and Determined #1)(97)

“And when was that?”

“About one, my lord.”

Swanston’s eyes moved to the clock. It was well after seven. His wife had been gone over six hours. The worst of it was that he wasn’t sure that was entirely unusual. He just didn’t know.

Turning his face to his friend, he met the other man’s eyes. No, Duldon was not the only one to feel sudden concern. “Send her maid down. I need to ask her some questions.”

“Yes. I’ll send Marie.” The porter eased from the room.



The building was dank and in disrepair. And it was in better shape than many of its hulking neighbors on the narrow street. Louisa could understand why the men had ceased to be concerned by the thought of her screams. She imagined that shouts of terror were not unusual in these parts. Drawing her cloak more tightly about her, she descended from the carriage and followed the men. Running would be futile; she was likely to end up in more trouble than if she proceeded onward. The men had said that she was not to be harmed—if possible.

It was not as reassuring a thought as it might have been.

She walked through the heavy door. It swung silently open on its hinges and then closed with a loud click behind her. The men did not follow her in, and for a moment she stood alone in the empty hall.

“Don’t think of running—they are still there, just outside the door.” Lady Ormande descended the stairs slowly, red and black skirts swirling about her, a hint of flesh peeking out as she walked.

Louisa could only blink at the other woman. None of this made sense.

“I did ask you to come to me if you had questions about our dear Geoffrey,” the Countess said, her black eyes skewering Louisa. “I know him so much better than Madame Rouge.”

Louisa bit down on her cheek, not wishing to comment on Lady Ormande’s use of her husband’s first name. “How did you know where I was going?”

“Where else would you be going on that street? I admit my surprise that you even knew about Madame. It is not something most husbands share with their wives. Although you’ve now had two husbands who’ve visited Madame. Do you ever wonder what that says about you?”

Ignoring the last question, Louisa directed herself to her original inquiry. “And how did you know I would be on that street? I do not imagine it was chance.”

Lady Ormande opened a door off the hall and directed her through. “No. I was having you followed, as I am sure my men, Jack and Frank, have already told you. I’ve always had a knack for finding weakness.”

“I do not understand.”

“You are Swanston’s weakness. He owes me, and now you will help me make him pay.”

Louisa looked about the small sitting room, wondering what she should say. Or what she should do. The Countess offered no clear threat. Could she try to run? There must be a back entrance, a servants’ entrance—but she had already decided that running was futile.

Lady Ormande strode over to a simple hardwood chair and sat and gestured to a similar seat across from her.

The room was bare except for the two chairs and a small wooden table. Another door stood across from the one they had entered.

Louisa took her seat. There was nowhere for her to go. She was more likely to have her throat slit for the shoes on her feet than to make it free of the seedy neighborhood. She didn’t even know where she was, beyond somewhere in London.

“I am glad you have decided to be reasonable. I thought you would be,” Lady Ormande said. “I had considered having Jack and Frank join us, but decided that could wait. As long as you are obedient I see no reason to bother you with their presence. Now, would you please take off your cloak and leave it on the table. You will have no need of it here. I can promise you will not be cold. I cannot abide a chill. It reminds me far too much of my childhood. The chateau was never warm no matter how the fires were stoked.”

Louisa’s hands were trembling again. Although Lady Ormande had said nothing truly threatening, Louisa could not mistake the hint of danger that dangled from her every word. With some care, she removed her cloak and set it on the small wood table as directed.

“And your half-boots, I think. Without them you will be less inclined to run, which would be troublesome for us both.”

Her boots? Louisa did not move.

“It is too early for you to resist. It would not be difficult for Jack and Frank to remove them. I did not wish their hands upon you, but if you insist.” The Countess moved as if to rise.

“No. I understand my choices.” Louisa bent and began to loosen her bootlaces; the thought of Jack’s beefy hands on her ankle was more than she could bear. The flavor of fish rose again in her mouth. If she wasn’t careful she’d lose the meager contents of her stomach.

She did not imagine that would please Lady Ormande—and she was beginning to get the feeling that the lady’s anger was not a thing to welcome.

“I am glad to see that you are such a good girl, Louisa. You don’t mind if I call you Louisa, do you? Although I must insist that you continue to call me Countess. It will make our relationship so much easier. And you should remove your stockings as well. I do admire a dainty foot. And lovely calves. I did trust that Geoffrey had chosen well.”

Louisa placed her bare toes down on the floor, trying to hide them under her skirts. Lady Ormande’s lingering look was disconcerting. The boards of the floor felt cold beneath her feet despite the warmth of the weather. “Are you ever going to tell me why you have brought me here?”