.
Lacey felt a great swell of relief when the familiar shape of Baling House came into view. It was dark, the servants likely all abed by now, and she told the Winsteads’ coachman that she would be fine at the drive.
Someday, I will marry and this and Mother's title will all be mine.
The thought had never interested her much, but now it took on a positively bleak cast, because whoever she married, it wouldn't be Robert, and that left her feeling as if her heart had gone out of her. She flinched from the memory of his cruelty in the garden, wondering how they had gone from such sweetness a few days ago to this.
She touched the necklace he had given her, smiling ruefully because it was better than crying. It was beautiful, but she would put it and the earrings away. It was more practical than simply dumping them in the stream behind the house, at any rate.
She navigated the halls of Baling House with the ease of lifelong practice, using the moonlight coming through the tall windows to light her way instead of a candle. She was almost to her room when a loud thumping sound startled her.
What in the world can that be? Everyone is meant to be asleep right now
Lacey tried to tell herself that it was just a servant stirring or perhaps some animal outside the window, but she couldn't let it go. Instead, she made her way to the library, where it seemed the sound had originated.
Some instinct prevented her from calling out to see what was going on. Instead, she cracked the door open and stayed in the hall to see what was the matter.
For a moment, she didn't understand what she was seeing. It was Davis, stripped to his shirt sleeves, and he seemed to be building a great and roaring fire in the hearth. At least, he was bringing armloads of wood to the hearth... no, not to the hearth, next to the hearth, and he was dropping the wood on the library carpet.
He's… Oh, god… He's building a path straight from the fire to the books!
She must have made some noise because Davis looked up from his work, letting the wood fall in a scatter around him. In some distant part of her mind, she thought that Mrs. Elinsby, the housekeeper, would be displeased with the mess of bark and dirt, and then she realized what danger they were in.
“Oh. Miss Welton. I didn't imagine you'd be back so soon.”
Despite the bizarre circumstances, Davis was as polite as ever, and somehow that was more chilling.
Lacey swallowed hard.
“I was ill. But, Lord Exter, what are you doing? Is... is this because I rejected your suit?”
He shrugged as if she had asked him his opinion on something utterly inconsequential. “Yes and no, I suppose. It would have been easier if you were willing to fall for my charms, but my talents have never lain in that direction. Not like our father's.”
Lacey stared at him. “Our... father?”
He smiled at her bitterly. “Oh, yes. The previous Lord Baling was a rake of the highest order, and I'm the product of one of his exploits.”
“And... he turned you away?”
Davis’ face momentarily warped to something utterly furious and deranged, but then he smiled again, the same obsequious man she had known.
Dear God, I let him touch me...
“Left my mother with a pension and me with nothing, I'm afraid, and so I came to see if I could claim my inheritance for myself.”
“But I'm your sister!”
“You need never have known, at least not until we were married, and I could arrange a suitably appropriate fate for you.”
Lacey stared at him. “Then... this was all for revenge?”
He had started toward her when they began talking. All that mattered was she got him away from the fire, from the tinderbox of the library. She had to keep him talking.
“Revenge, wealth, satisfaction. I want it all, and you were the little bitch who thought she could deny me.”
Step by step, she lured him out of the library, keeping herself as calm as she could.
“I might have taken your suit a little better if you were a little kinder about it.”
“Kindness means nothing in this world, little sister. Force means more.”
On those words, Davis lunged at her, and she would have been caught if she hadn't been ready. Instead, he managed to tear a bow off her dress as she turned to run, kicking off her slippers as she did so. She could hear him running after her, and she knew he was likely faster than she was. She couldn't beat him over a long distance, but she was fast enough to beat him to the drawing room close by.
Davis was close enough that she couldn't close the door in his face, but she didn't intend to barricade herself against him. Instead, Lacey lunged for the bell pull, which would ring a sonorous bell in the servants' quarters. She grabbed the bell and gave it several hard tugs, knowing it was making a clamor where the servants slept.
Please, please let it be enough.
Davis’ hands closed over her shoulders, dragging her back from the cord, and she screamed, ready to strike him with all the strength she had. Instead, he folded his hand over her mouth and started dragging her back to the library, where the fire raged on.
“You're done, little sister. And so am I.”