Page List


Font:  

“Why didn’t you just ask Evan if you could print papers here?”

“Are you completely mad? First of all, he would want the house to be paid. But more importantly, he’s an uptight peer. He would never have consented. He would never do anything against the law.”

“No, he wouldn’t. He is a good man—more of a man than you will ever be.”

“Easy, my lady. I can show you exactly what kind of man I am right here. And no one would hear you scream.” He licked his lips lasciviously. “You are a beautiful woman. Beautiful…and that body…” His tongue snaked over his thin lips again.

Ally squirmed, nausea overwhelming her. No one would ever touch her again, other than Evan. Certainly not this lowlife. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

He chuckled. “What exactly would you do about it if I did? As I said, who would hear you? And if you went running to the constables, I would expose you for the little harpy you really are.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, don’t I…Madame O?”

Ally swallowed. Her pseudonym for her erotica. Oh, that she could go back in time and end this before it began!

“No one would believe I had violated you. I will simply tell them that you begged for it. And when I expose the fact that you are a writer for this lovely little paper, no one will believe that I did anything to you without your consent. Unfortunately, though, now is not the time. I must get back downstairs. The business doesn’t run without me.” He grinned.

Ally sat while he bound her hands behind her. “Why are you printing the paper now, in broad daylight?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, lovely lady, but we have a deadline, and we got behind a few days ago printing some useless rubble for his lordship. Something he deemed important, and everything had to be put on hold for it. A book of drivel.”

What had Evan deemed so important to stop the presses? Ally didn’t know, and right now she couldn’t dwell on it anyway.

“You’ll be quite comfortable here, my lady. We close at six p.m. At that time, I will come up and figure out what to do with you.”

“That’s hours away.”

“Yes, it is. It’s too bad I have to bind your hands otherwise I could bring you some parchment and you could do some writing of your feisty Lady Prudence.”

She seethed. “There is nothing wrong with what I write.”

“I couldn’t agree more, my lady. There is nothing wrong with what I print.”

“Except that it is not your printing house, and not your decision to make.”

“I’m bored with this conversation, I fear.” Osborne placed a gag in Ally’s mouth. “No need to blindfold you. You know where you are. I shall see you in a few hours.”

He left.

Ally struggled against the bindings, to no avail. Once again, she had managed to get herself stranded without a paddle. She did seem to have a penchant for it.

Evan wouldn’t come for her. He was physically incapable. And at this point, he probably wouldn’t want to anyway. How had she made such a mess of this? She had finally come to understand what was important in life, only for it to be too late.

The minutes crept by slowly. At least she had fulfilled her goal. She’d found out who was behind the printing of The Ruby. However, it wouldn’t do any good when she couldn’t get to Evan.

It was past time for luncheon, but she wouldn’t have been able to eat anyway. Her empty stomach gnawed at her. She fought back the ever-present nausea.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. The presses and the workers downstairs created more heat, and it rose to the second floor where she was. Her clothing stuck to her skin. She fought back tears. She wouldn’t be able to wipe them anyway. Nothing to do but sit—sit and await her fate.

Wait! Mr. Landon knew where she was. But no one knew he had come calling earlier, and because she had rejected his proposal, he would not come back. Most likely no one would think to ask him where she might have gone.

She was truly out of luck.

* * *

Evan drifted in and out of slumber. His thigh ached, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle, thanks to the morphine that a servant gave him every six hours. Unfortunately, the morphine couldn’t touch the pain in his heart.


Tags: Helen Hardt Sex and the Season Erotic