Chapter Sixteen
Jake knew the moment he set foot inside his house that something was seriously amiss. His heart quailed because he also knew it had to be somehow connected to Olivia.
‘What is it, Reed?’ he asked curtly, conscious of several of his servants lurking in the vestibule instead of going about their normal duties.
‘It’s Mrs Grantley, my lord.’
Jake’s lingering hope that she would come bustling into the hall, desperate for any news he brought of Tom, withered at the sight of Reed’s sombre expression. ‘What has she done?’ he asked. ‘Where is she?’
‘Molly came back not long after you went out, my lord. She was in a dreadful state. Claims she tried to shield Master Tom from the fracas in the park and the next thing she remembers is waking up with a headache outside a tavern in Whitechapel.’
‘Where is she now?’ Jake barked.
‘That’s just it, my lord. Mrs Grantley went up with her to help her get warm and dry; insisted upon doing so in person.’ Jake rolled his eyes, perfectly sure that she had. ‘Jane became concerned when Molly didn’t appear up on the servants’ floor, so went down to Mrs Grantley’s chamber to see if she needed any help.’ Reed spread his hands. ‘But the room was empty.’
Jake shared a look with Parker. ‘Molly fooled us all,’ he said brusquely, frowning at the girl’s audacity. ‘She must have forced Olivia to leave the house, probably by the servants’ stairs. Mind you, if she claimed to know where Tom was, she would not have had to force her.’ Jake slapped his stick against his thigh. ‘The irresponsible little fool!’
‘She would have been told to take Lady Marchant’s letters,’ Parker remained Jake, ‘and she doesn’t have access to them.’
‘Begging your pardon, my lord,’ Reed said. ‘We found a drawer open in your desk. Not sure it it’s relevant.’
Jake strode in that direction and found an inconsequential file of correspondence with his steward missing.
‘She must have taken it in the hope of fooling Grantley into thinking they were Lady Marchant’s letters.’ Jake shook his head. Of all the bird-brained, reckless, irresponsible… Fear for her welfare paralysed his unusually incisive brain. If anything were to happen to her, his own life would be over. When he got his hands on her again, she would not be able to sit down for a week. He had repeatedly warned her and yet she’d blithely ignored that warning and run headfirst into he knew not what danger, probably without even pausing to think of the consequences. ‘Once she has Tom safe, there is no telling what retribution she might attempt to inflict upon his abductors; and if it ends badly, no one will believe in her innocence this time. There are still some who think she must have been involved in her husband’s death, accounting for her supposed notoriety.’ Jake ground his jaw, well aware how fiery Olivia’s temper could be with far less provocation. ‘How long ago was she missed, Reed?’
‘They can’t have been gone more than ten minutes, my lord.’
‘Well, that’s something. We stand a chance of catching up to her before matters get completely out of hand.’ Jake swirled on his heel. ‘Right, Parker, back to that warehouse. Reed, have the curricle brought round immediately.’
‘You think Norris will know Sir Hubert’s address and that he will tell us if he does?’ Parker asked as Jake climbed onto the box seat, took up the ribbons himself and set his horses off at a cracking pace.
‘Oh, he will tell us,’ Jake replied. ‘You say he is a man of honour who doesn’t care for Grantley. Once he is made aware that his employer is responsible for abducting a child, any man with an ounce of humanity would reveal whatever he knows.’
‘Let’s hope it’s worth knowing.’
The roads were, for once, relatively clear of obstructions and they reached the warehouse faster than even Jake considered possible. Parker jumped down from the curricle before Jake brought it fully to a halt. Jake took a quick glance around whilst Parker knocked, just to make sure that they had not blundered into a trap of some sort. There was an outside possibility that Molly had brought Olivia here, but the only abnormal behaviour was that of two stray dogs growling over the same bone.
Norris answered Parker’s knock remarkably quickly for a lame man.
‘You again,’ he said. ‘What is it that you really want?’
‘This is my master, Lord Torbay,’ Parker replied.
Norris sized Jake up, appeared to like what he saw and inclined his head. ‘How can I be of service to you, my lord?’ he asked politely.
‘Parker assures me that you are an honourable man,’ Jake said, getting straight to the point. ‘We believe—in fact we know—that Sir Hubert has abducted a child and is holding him somewhere in Whitechapel; somewhere close by. It is of the utmost importance that we find him before the child is harmed, or worse. You are our only hope.’
Norris was quiet for a moment or two, then appeared to reach a decision. ‘I came by here yesterday morning,’ he said. ‘I was not supposed to be here but I had left my drawing supplies. I’m something of an artist, you see, and I occupy my spare time that way. I went into the office and heard Sir Hubert talking to someone in the warehouse. I was curious because it was a woman and I couldn’t think what call she would have to be there. Anyway, I heard him call her Molly and she fitted the description you gave me earlier,’ he added, turning towards Parker. ‘That’s why I thought you were genuine, at first.’
‘Sorry about that,’ Parker said. ‘We were not sure if we could trust you.’
Jake wondered how Molly had come to be there yesterday, then recalled that she had asked to change her afternoon off, presumably so that she could meet with Sir Hubert and take her instructions.
‘Did you overhear anything that might help us?’ he asked.
‘I heard Sir Hubert give the girl an address and, as you say, it’s close by; just a few streets away. He made her commit it to memory and repeat it back to him several times.’
‘Can you recall what it was?’ Jake asked, praying that the man’s memory was sharp.
‘That I can, my lord.’
Jake slapped his shoulder once he had repeated it, then reached into his pocket to produce one of his cards. He handed it to Norris. ‘Call upon me at Grosvenor Square tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I reward loyalty and can find you employment more worthy of your talents.’ He offered Norris his hand to seal the bargain. Norris looked surprised to have an earl wishing to shake his hand, but took it in a firm grasp. ‘One more thing. Can you send a lad to the address on that card? Have him ask for Reed. Reed is to send three of my footmen to the address you just gave me and they are to bring a carriage. With great good fortune we will have prisoners to transport.’
‘Very well,’ Norris said calmly.
‘Good man. Come, Parker,’ Jake said. ‘There is not a moment to lose.’
҉
Olivia walked into a tiny room overcrowded with four adults in occupation of it. It was in a state of advanced disrepair, mould growing on the walls, windows grimy and cracked; an empty fireplace, an unpleasant odour and an air of disuse. There was no sign of Tom but she had to believe he was in that hell-hole somewhere. Her gaze swivelled between Hubert and Lady Marchant, still astonished to discover that they were working together. But not as surprised by that revelation as Molly appeared to be.
‘Here, who’s this woman, my dear?’ she asked Hubert, placing a propriety hand on his sleeve as she wrinkled her brow in suspicion.
‘This is Lady Marchant, with whom we have an agreement,’ Hubert replied. ‘You have been a very clever girl and obtained her letters for her, I feel absolutely sure.’
Molly beamed, apparently satisfied with that explanation, whereas a dozen questions sprang to Olivia’s mind, none of which she bothered to voice. ‘Course I have,’ Molly said casually. ‘No trouble. Told you there wouldn’t be.’
‘Hand them over, if you please, Olivia,’ Hubert said politely.
Olivia hugged the file tighter to her bosom. ‘Only when I have Tom.’
‘Go and get the child, Molly,’ Hubert said, ‘and let us be done with the matter.’
Olivia tried to quell her erratic breathing as Molly disappeared into the back of the cottage. She had nothing to fear, she told herself repeatedly. She would grab Tom, then throw the fake file at them and run. It was as simple as that. And if one of them happened to catch up with her, she would use her hat pin, or her defensive skills, to protect them both. Somehow. The important thing was to pretend passivity, and not rile Hubert.
‘Charming accommodation,’ she said, wondering why her mouth and brain never seemed to be in accord with one another. ‘A perfect backdrop for a blackmailer. How the mighty have fallen.’
Hubert glowered at her, but there was also a feral light in his eye as his gaze lingered on her tight-fitting breeches that made her skin crawl. ‘And whose fault is that?’
‘Certainly not mine.’
‘Don’t think I am unaware of your activities, you little whore! You were quick enough to open your legs for your fancy earl, but I was not good enough for you.’ Hubert spat on the boarded floor, his expression a combination of disgust, jealousy and desire. ‘We could have had it all, you and I, yet you turned your pert little nose up at me like I was beneath your notice.’
Olivia was appalled by the fact that he still carried a torch for her. She had always known that he desired her, despite the fact that she was his brother’s wife. Mind you, when that brother died, he didn’t lift a finger to help her, even though he knew she was innocent of involvement in his death. He was more interested in inheriting Marcus’s wealth, or managing it until Tom reached his majority; the vile, self-centred opportunist!
Olivia adjured herself to forget the past, put Hubert’s lustful intentions to one side, and concentrate on the here and now. She noticed in the periphery of her vision that Molly was lingering behind the door, listening and frowning. Perhaps she could use that knowledge to her advantage; open Molly’s eyes to the true character of the man she had thrown her lot in with.
‘So you turned Molly’s head with empty promises and a little flattery,’ Olivia replied conversationally. ‘Does she really think you will keep her with you once she has outlived her usefulness? Well, I dare say she does; she is rather naïve.’ Lady Marchant had yet to open her mouth, but was following the conversation between Hubert and Olivia with interest, a slight frown creasing her brow. ‘Apart from anything else, she appears to have overlooked the fact that you already have a wife and children.’
‘Molly will do as she is told.’
Don’t count on it.
‘Why did you join forces with him?’ Olivia asked, sending Hubert a scathing glance and focusing her attention on Lady Marchant.
‘I just want my letters back,’ she said softly.
‘And you were responsible for both Marcus and a night watchman losing their lives in your search for them?’
‘No,’ Lady Marchant replied decisively. ‘I had nothing to do with that at all.’
Astonishingly, Olivia believed her. She turned towards Hubert. ‘It was you,’ she said aghast as the truth dawned. ‘You had your own brother killed. I did not think you quite so dissipated as that.’
‘It should not have happened,’ Hubert replied, not a flicker of emotion passing across his handsome face. ‘If we had stayed at the party at the theatre, as we were supposed to, then no one would have been hurt. If Marcus had not taken that whore Verity upstairs in front of you and caused you to argue with him, the men I hired would have escaped with the documents I set them to look for.’
Olivia shook her head, too disgusted to speak. Hubert really did seem to think he was not culpable.
‘I knew nothing of this,’ Lady Marchant said. ‘I will admit that your husband and I…well, if you have seen the letters I foolishly wrote to him at the height of our grand passion, then I do not need to tell you what happened between us. I am very sorry about that. He promised me that he could help my career. Since he already had so many famous actors under his management and everyone wanted to be with him, I was flattered. I did not realise at the time that he attracted them in the first place by such underhand tactics.’
‘He told you about that?’ Olivia asked, unable to hide her surprise.
She shrugged. ‘He seemed proud of his achievements.’ Olivia nodded, perfectly sure that he had been. ‘Anyway, I do not expect you to believe me but it was the first, the only time, I had known a man, until I met my husband.’
‘Marcus could be very charming, very persuasive,’ Olivia admitted, aware that Molly was still listening avidly. No one seemed to recall why she had left the room, or that she was even still in the cottage. Aware that Tom must be, or Molly would not have been sent to fetch him, Olivia would prefer it if he was not brought in immediately. If Lady Marchant had no violent proclivities, it made a big difference to her chances of escape.
‘Even so…’
‘I was not aware that your letters existed until a few days ago,’ Olivia said. ‘It was my intention to return them to you. All of this was unnecessary. As a matter of interest, why did you become involved with Hubert?’
‘When your husband died I lived in fear of my letters surfacing. When they did not, I assumed, rightly it would appear, that you did not know about them or had not found them. As time went on I began to relax, thinking I was safe. If someone intended to use them against me, they would have done so by then.’ She inhaled and then released her captured breath slowly. ‘Marchant’s children hate me, find me an embarrassment, and constantly seek ways to undermine my position. They think I married their father for his money and status, seeming to overlook the fact that none of them have done an honest day’s work in their lives and rely upon his very generous nature.’
‘I can imagine,’ Olivia replied, well aware how badly some families behaved when large sums of money were involved; especially her own.
‘Oh, I will not deny that his position and wealth attracted me at first, but we have grown very close, I believe I make him happy and that, I am sure, is what his children cannot abide.’
Olivia nodded sympathetically.
‘Marchant adores me, but if those letters were ever to come to his attention or, worse, fall into the hands of his children, it would destroy him.’ Tears glistened on her thick lashes. ‘I am willing to do whatever is necessary to spare him that pain. So, when Sir Hubert contacted me and said they were in his possession I was, as you can imagine, beside myself with worry. But I had the presence of mind to ask him to read one of them to me, and when he could not do so I realised he did not actually have them.’
Olivia nodded. ‘He had heard about them from Marcus, I suppose.’
‘Yes, but Marcus didn’t use them. He didn’t need to. He was very successful by then and had well-known actors beating a path to his door voluntarily, begging him to represent them. I was no longer an actress at that point, having left the stage to marry. I asked him to return the letters. He did not, but promised me they were safe.’
Typical Marcus, Olivia thought disgustedly. He could not quite bring himself to do the honourable thing, just in case times became hard and he needed to use the letters for his own benefit.
‘What’s the point of raking this over?’ Hubert asked, kicking at a loose floorboard. ‘Time’s a wasting. Where has become of that silly girl and the child?’
Olivia noticed Molly bridle at his description of her but she did not move. Olivia took a step to the right so that Hubert would not see Molly’s hiding place if he changed position.
‘And so,’ Olivia said. ‘You offered Hubert money, a great deal of money I would imagine, in return for the letters.’
‘He assured me that he had access to them and I believed him because I assumed they were in your household. I did not anticipate that he would have someone break into Barber’s office and that someone else would lose their life.’ Lady Marchant looked genuinely distressed. ‘That poor man. I have sent an anonymous donation to his family.’
Olivia nodded her approval. In Lady Marchant’s position, she would have done the exact same thing.
‘And now this.’ Lady Marchant spread her hands. ‘I was promised faithfully that the letters would be in his hand today. Naturally, I did not believe it and was not prepared to pay a penny until I felt assured I had every single one of them, so I insisted upon being here myself when Sir Hubert took possession of them. But, I beg you to believe, I was not aware that he had restored to kidnapping a child in order to do so.’
‘No, I believe you did not. Anyway, it was unnecessary. As I already explained, I fully intended to return your property to you.’
Lady Marchant reached out a hand to Olivia. Olivia took it in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze, completely convinced that Lady Marchant told the truth. Presumably, after all that Molly had just heard, she would be totally disillusioned with Hubert too. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze clashed with Molly’s and the girl appeared to hesitate. Then, to Olivia’s intense disappointment, she made her decision, turned on her heel and disappeared.
A tense silence ensued. Although Olivia sensed that Lady Marchant was now in her corner, she also knew that Hubert was too desperate to let either of them go. She expected him at any moment to lunge for her and extract the letters from inside her tunic by force. How he would react when he found they were not the ones he sought was anyone’s guess, but Olivia knew it would not end well. Hubert, just like Marcus, was a vindictive man with a vicious temper when crossed.
Olivia’s heart lifted when Molly returned to the room with Tom cradled in her arms. But her joy was short lived when she realised her child was totally still. Her heart stalled. He could not be dead; he simply could not be!
‘Give him to me!’ She reached out her arms and snatched Tom from Molly’s grasp. He was breathing, thank the Lord, but even when Olivia gently shook him, he did not wake. ‘What have you done to him?’ she asked sharply.
‘Just a little laudanum rubbed on his gums,’ Molly said with total unconcern. ‘The brat would not stop crying, or asking for you.’
‘You drugged my child?’ Olivia felt as though she might very well explode with anger. ‘You could have killed him!’ Olivia smoothed the curls from her son’s face and kissed his brow. ‘What sort of demons are you?’
‘The letters,’ Hubert said, sighing with impatience. ‘Come along, we don’t have all day.’
Before Olivia could decide what to do, Molly lunged for her and pulled the file free of Olivia’s tunic. She could not prevent her without dropping Tom so did not even try. She sent a warning glance towards Lady Marchant, not sure what good it would do her. When Hubert realised he had been duped, there was no telling how he would react, and Lady Marchant needed to be prepared.
‘Here we are, my dear,’ Molly said with a superior smirk. ‘All’s well that ends well.’
Hubert smiled vaingloriously as he took the papers from her but his smile quickly vanished as he flipped through them. ‘What the devil…’ His face blazed with anger focused upon Molly. ‘You stupid, stupid girl! Can you not get anything right?’
‘You asked me to get the letters and I did!’ Molly cried indignantly.
‘I told you to check and make sure they were the right ones. I warned you, told you repeatedly, that her ladyship here would try to gull you.’
‘I couldn’t look. Didn’t have time. Someone was coming and I couldn’t be seen or we would have been prevented from leaving that house.’
Hubert’s eyes blazed. ‘One thing, one tiny thing I asked you to do for me and you can’t even manage to get that right.’
‘We still have the child,’ Molly whined. ‘Don’t be angry with me, my love.’ She clawed at Hubert’s arm but he shook her off like an irritating fly. ‘We have come such a long way together. Have such plans. Besides, it was me as took all the risks.’
‘If you still think Hubert intends to take you away with him, Molly, then you are deluding yourself,’ Olivia said, checking Tom every second or two to see if there was any change in his condition; desperate to get him to a doctor. She would have fought her way past Hubert and Molly if she did not have Tom’s welfare to take into account, so the next best thing would be to drive a wedge between them and slip away during the ensuing melee. ‘Surely it has occurred to you by now that he was using you?’
‘We love each other,’ Molly said stoutly, her voice wobbling with uncertainty.
Olivia tossed her head. ‘Hubert does not love anyone expect himself.’
She turned her attention to the seething individual pacing the small amount of space available to him in the cramped room, forcing the rest of them to fall back against the dank walls. Anger and bitterness rendered him ugly and Olivia could sense him struggling to think of way to recover his position. He would not succeed because there was no way. Besides, Hubert was not blessed with a sharp mind and thinking was something of a labour for him.
‘It’s over, Hubert,’ she said firmly. ‘And you have lost. Again. I do not have the letters. They are locked in Lord Torbay’s safe and you will never get your grubby hands on them. Lady Marchant will not pay you a penny because she knows you don’t have them and any rumours you start cannot harm her without the proof to back them up.’ It was now, Olivia realised, the unlikely combination of her and Lady Marchant ranged against Hubert and Molly. There was nothing to prevent them from walking out. ‘Come, Lady Marchant,’ she said. ‘It’s time to leave.’
‘No one leaves until I say they can!’ Hubert roared, physically blocking the path to the door.
‘Really?’ Olivia arched an insolent brow. ‘How do you intend to stop us? Even you must realise there is nothing to be gained from keeping us here. However, to appease your anxiety, I will make a bargain with you. I give you my word that if you allow us to walk away then nothing more will be said about kidnapping Tom. And as to your arranging the break-in at Barber’s office and being responsible for Marcus’s death, I have no proof.’ Olivia crossed the fingers of the hand that supported Tom’s weight. For the first time in her life she fully intended to break her solemn word. No one, but no one, drugged her child and got away with it! ‘Lady Marchant would not want the world to know that she was here and there are no other witnesses.’
Lady Marchant nodded emphatically. ‘Exactly so,’ she said.
‘You seem to overlook the fact that you have interfered with my plans once too often,’ Hubert snarled. ‘And I have nothing left to lose. However, if you and the brat were to disappear,’ he said, nodding towards Tom sleeping in Olivia’s arms, ‘all that was Marcus’s would become mine. Ought to have been mine by right. I was as much responsible for the success of the theatrical agency as he was.’
Actually he was not and it would not. Olivia had already made sure of that, being aware of the rapacious nature of both her own family and Marcus’s. But she had put her affairs in order as a precaution, not expecting that she or Tom would die in the near future. Seeing the murderous rage whirling in Hubert’s eyes, she was obliged to revise her thinking in that regard, and felt suddenly afraid. Unstable people acted irrationally and she could see that having his plans thwarted yet again had tipped Hubert precariously close to the edge of reason. She took a deep breath, knowing better than to allow her anxiety to show. Bullies of Hubert’s ilk fed off other people’s fear.
‘You do not do your own killing,’ she said scathingly. ‘You do not have the stomach for it. That is why you hired those thugs to break into our house, and hired more to break into Barber’s office.’
‘It was a damned shame that Torbay took up your cause and actually managed to track down the men who did for Marcus.’ Hubert shook his head in evident disgust. ‘You have the very luck of the devil! When you were caught leaning over Marcus, covered in blood, so soon after you were heard arguing with him, I thought I was finally about to get what was rightfully mine. But, once again, you wriggled out of being blamed and did not even have the decency to accept my help once you were released from gaol.’
‘I wanted nothing from you.’ She sent him a scathing glance. ‘Especially what it was that you particularly wanted to give me.’
Molly’s jaw fell open. ‘What does she mean, Hubert? You told me that you could not abide her.’
‘He is using you, Molly,’ Olivia replied into the ensuing tense silence. ‘He fully intended to return to Grantley Hall and resume his life with his wife once he had blackmailed Lady Marchant into supplying him with sufficient capital to put his estate back in order.’
‘He did not. He…’
‘Oh, but he did. Sir Hubert Grantley is far too full of his position within society to make a life with a maid.’
‘You’re lying!’ Molly howled.
‘Of course, he would have held back a couple of Lady Marchant’s letters and continued to extract payment from her until he had bled her dry.’ She shot a look of vitriolic contempt Hubert’s way. ‘It is the only way he knows. And when that source dried up he would have most likely sold the remaining letters to the highest bidding newspaper.’
‘No!’ Molly sobbed ‘I don’t believe it.’
Hubert lunged for Olivia, roaring like an enraged bull. Lady Marchant saved the day by grabbing Tom when Olivia thrust him towards her, otherwise he would most likely have been crushed between them.
Tom was saved, but Olivia had no time to mount a counterattack before Hubert grabbed her waist and pushed her against the wall, pinning here there with his superior weight. Olivia kicked and scratched, fighting with the strength of a mother defending her child, but Hubert was simply too strong for her.
‘To the victor goes the spoils,’ he said, holding both of her wrists above her head with just one hand. He leered at her as his breath peppered her face, making her feel physically ill. ‘I’ve wanted you since the moment you passed puberty but I had to marry Margaret for her money. Marcus, of course, could do as he pleased but then he always damned well had. He didn’t have the responsibility of being head of the family. However, I shall at least have the pleasure of exacting revenge. Let’s see if your fastidious earl still wants you after I’ve done with you.’
‘You don’t want her,’ Molly wailed. ‘You have me.’
With his free hand, Hubert casually reached behind him, where Molly clung to his heels, and planted a fist in the centre of her stomach. With a cry, she fell to her knees, her hands cradling her stomach. ‘Our baby!’ she wailed. ‘Don’t hurt our baby.’
Hubert ignored her and returned his attention to Olivia. ‘Why do you always have to come between me and what I want to achieve?’ he asked in an aggrieved tone. ‘If you hadn’t fought with Marcus that night he would not have died and we would still be running a profitable business. But oh no, your feelings were hurt and you had to make sure everyone knew it.’
His hand pulled at her jerkin. The buttons flew everyone and his hand was now on her shirt. Renewed anger surged through Olivia. She had endured the primal pawing of one Grantley. She was damned if she would go through that ordeal again. But brute force, she was well aware, was not always the way to achieve one’s goal. Instead of fighting back, she went limp against the wall, giving no resistance.
‘I knew it!’ Hubert smirked. ‘You are not nearly as reluctant as you make yourself out to be. Well, I can give you a damned sight more than Torbay; never doubt it.’
He was convinced that victory was his and loosened his hold on her wrists. It was the moment Olivia had anticipated. In one swift movement, she lifted a knee into Hubert’s groin, putting all her anger and determination behind the blow, extracted the hat pin from her cloak with one hand and deposited it in the same place. Hubert howled, released her and fell to the floor, clutching himself as he yanked the pin free. Blood darkened the fabric of his trousers. Despite the almost unbearable pain he must be feeling, he straightened up again and blocked her way out of the corner she had become trapped in.
There was nowhere for her to go.
She looked towards Molly but she remained on the floor, still clutching her stomach, gazing up at Hubert with a combination of hope and confusion in her expression. When the stubborn girl refused to meet Olivia’s gaze, it became obvious that she was still clinging to the foolish hope that Hubert actually did love her. There would be no help from the quarter.
Olivia elevated her chin, her expression defiant, as Hubert reached for her. She glanced towards Tom, still in a drug-induced sleep, cradled protectively in Lady Marchant’s arms. The sight of him strengthened her resolve and she gathered her wits about her, ready to launch another attack, secure in the knowledge that if anything happened to her then Lady Marchant would ensure Tom’s safety. She didn’t know why she felt that way about the woman who had embarked upon a steamy affair with her husband and was now fighting with single-minded determination to save her advantageous marriage, but somehow she felt convinced it was true.
‘Give it up, Olivia,’ Hubert said. ‘The more you fight me, the worse it will be for you.’
He grabbed her hair, yanking it hard enough to make her eyes water and for her to cry out. He had her pinned to the wall again and this time she had no energy left to fight back. Hubert would not be fooled by her wilting violet routine for a second time. He raised his free hand, tugged her hair harder and slapped her face so hard that her head swam. Any hopes that Molly would belatedly come to her senses and prevent him from raping her were dashed when she caught a glimpse of the girl’s expression. Her eyes glistened with interest as she watched the man she claimed to love brutalising her former mistress. Significantly, she had also stood up, perhaps unwittingly blocking the path to the door so that Lady Marchant could not escape with Tom. That was all Olivia cared about; the welfare of her son, but she could not even protect him.
She closed her eyes, resigned. There was no fight left in her and so she would endure Hubert’s furious revenge and wait for a moment to strike back. He could not seriously expect to have his way with her, here, now, against this dank wall, could he?
Before Olivia could decide, the pressure on her hair abruptly vanished, as did Hubert. Instead he was sprawled on the floor, blood pouring from his nose, and Jake was standing over him, ready to strike him again the moment he got up.
‘How…where?’ Olivia gasped. ‘I did not hear you.’
And then Olivia was in his arms, sobbing with relief, unable to find the words to express her gratitude to the man she adored for saving her from being brutally raped. Or worse.