Page List


Font:  

She didn’t know what to feel: fury that her own cousin had her kidnapped or joy that her husband cared enough to track down Louisa and bring her and her accomplices to justice.

“Barrett,” Louisa whined to her husband, “I would never stoop to murder.”

He looked up at Taviston and shook his head without compunction. “No, Louisa. There is nothing I can do. You must pay for your crime. To be sure, residing in Canada seems to be quite lenient. It is not a penal colony, after all.”

“How can you possibly think that rotting in that godforsaken colony is not a punishment? I cannot live without London!”

Victoria finally spoke. “Louisa, why?”

Her cousin’s eyes glittered as she made contact with Victoria’s gaze, but she defiantly sealed her lips.

Louisa’s refusal to supply her motive almost broke Victoria. This was too much. She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself up in Taviston’s arms and draw on his strength, but so much between them remained unknown. For all she knew, he was simply protecting what was his, performing an obligation.

“It’s time we left, Victoria.”

She found her husband staring intently at her, studying her face. She nodded.

“Browne, I trust you will follow my instructions immediately. Do not make me regret my decision. She does not return to England, unless she prefers the comforts of Newgate.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Misery dotted her former guardian’s face.

“As for Morgan, he too will soon be on his way to Australia.”

Taviston threw open the drawing room door and strode to the front door. Opening it as well, he ushered in two strong Taviston footmen, who snared Morgan’s arms as he entered the front hall. They hauled him outside to a second waiting carriage. Morgan’s many protests were ignored.

Victoria followed Taviston out the door, stopping on the bottom step and turning to face him.

“Would you mind waiting a minute or two. I need to speak with Louisa. Alone.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he acquiesced. She marched in through the front door without knocking.

“Louisa! Louisa, where are you?”

No one answered, but one of the footmen came down the hall and silently pointed upstairs. Victoria nodded her thanks and swiftly climbed the stairs, heading straight for Louisa’s bedchamber.

Again, she entered without preamble. Her cousin was directing a maid in packing a bag.

“Are you now so eager to get to Canada?”

Her cousin flipped her blonde hair disdainfully. “None of your business. Get out of my house, you stupid interfering mouse!”

“No.”

“Get out! You have ruined my life,” Louisa screamed.

“Really? How is that? Did I clothe you in the most atrocious gowns ever sewn? Did I try to ruin your reputation every chance I had?” Victoria advanced on Louisa, whose eyes darted around the room. She probably noted, as Victoria did, that the maid had slipped away. “Did I have you kidnapped?”

“Taviston lied. I have more important things to do than plot to kidnap you. You’re hardly worth the trouble.”

“You admitted that you were behind the plot!” Spasms of anger shook Victoria. “If anything, you should be grateful. If my husband weren’t an honorable, upstanding gentleman who possesses a fair amount of self-control, I don’t doubt that he would have strangled you with his own hands.”

Victoria had stealthily backed Louisa up against a wall, but that didn’t stop her cousin from scoffing, “Please. Taviston would never create such a scandal.”

“Perhaps not, but you may have noticed I don’t have the same qualms about making scenes and creating gossip.”

The confident look vanished from her cousin’s face. Louisa shoved Victoria in the chest and tried to escape.

Victoria grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back. “Tell me why you did all of this. Tell me why you wanted me to suffer.”


Tags: Charlotte Russell His and Hers Historical