Page 89 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
“Yes. Right.” He knew what had to be done but needed the push from these wonderful servants who considered Mrs. Pennyworth their family. “I’m doing what I should have done days ago.”
He turned on his heels and strode to the door, tossing over his shoulder, “I’m getting Mrs. Pennyworth back.”
“Thank God.”
He thought the remark came from Bridget, but he didn’t stop long enough to be sure. He was a man on a mission.
* * *
Charlotte staredat Lord Barton’s outstretched arms. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I believe you are mistaken. I am not yourdear, and there is no reason for me to be speaking to you. In fact, you, of all people, know that there is also no reason for me to be in this jail.”
Barton dropped his hands, his smile still firmly in place. “Now, now, Charlotte. Of course you need to be here. There is the little question of the stolen necklace. You know, however, that I can clear the nasty little matter up quite easily.”
She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Then please do.” The nerve of the man, welcoming her as if she were a long-lost love. Her stomach churned just being in the same room with the cretin.
He waved to the chair in front of her. “Please have a seat. We can certainly discuss this like two adults and come to a reasonable solution.”
She dropped her arms to her side and stared at him, her mouth agape. Dear God, did he still expect her to become his mistress? Two years had passed. Hadn’t he found someone else to torture by now?
“My dear, I still want you. And I intend to have you. Once you agree, I will notify the authorities that this was all a little mix-up and you will be free to go.”
“I hate you. I would rather sit in jail for the rest of my life than have your filthy hands on me.” She turned toward the door back to her cell.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss my offer.” She continued to keep her back to him while he spoke. “I wanted to be the first man between those lovely legs, but unfortunately, I learned you had married. Such a shame, but nevertheless while that lessens your appeal, it doesn’t stop it. That will merely alter my offering.”
“I would prefer to return to my cell. Please call for the guard.”
“I am not finished.” His words snapped, and she shivered, but she refused to turn around.
“At one time, I would have set you up in a lovely home. I would have showered you with jewelry, servants, trips, and fine gowns. But now that you are no longer pure, I will offer you my protection.”
She turned and sneered at him. “Oh, how very kind of you, seeing that I am no longerpurebecause I chose to go to bed with my lawful husband.”
“Now, now, my dear, there is no need to be sarcastic.” His voice dripped condescension, and Charlotte had had enough.
She leaned forward, poking him in the chest. “Understand this,my lord. I am not for sale. I will never grace your bed, no matter what consequence that affords me. She moved back to the door and pounded on it. “Guard, please escort me back. I am finished here.”
The door opened and the guard glanced between her and Barton. “May I return her, my lord?” Before Barton could answer, Charlotte shoved the man out of the way and hurried down the passage. The guard caught up to her as she reached her cell.
“It doesn’t help to antagonize Lord Barton.” He closed the cell door after she entered. “He generally gets his own way in the end.”
“Not this time.” She sat on the cot, the anger brought on by his words crushing her, her stomach churned, and her heart pounded. Deep inside her a kernel of fear sunk its tendrils into her gut. Lord Barton could make her life miserable.
She flopped back, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Elliot. He was the perfect man for her. Kind, loyal, protective. They would have had a wonderful life together. He would have been a great father to their future children. How could he turn away from her when they’d meant so much to each other? He’d said he loved her. What kind of love disappeared at the first sign of trouble?
Apparently, the type of love Mr. Elliot Baker offered.
* * *
Elliot steppedoff the train in Melbourne Station and took note of the town. Modest, respectable, and everything a small, English countryside village should be. Except somewhere in this town was a jail cell holding his fiancée. A woman he’d deserted in her hour of need. Guilt nearly crippled him. He was determined to set everything right.
Before he’d left London, he’d spent time with Inspector Longforth, going over the charges in the warrant for Charlotte’s arrest. Longforth seemed genuinely happy to know Elliot was going after her.
“That woman does not belong behind bars. I’m a good judge of character, and what I learned of her after we ran across the warrant does not match with a jewel thief.” Then he had looked directly at Elliot. “Baker, I think your unfortunate experience with Miss Walters has turned you sour.”
Feeling like the lowest of men, Elliot had nodded his agreement and took his leave, anxious to catch the next train out of London for Melbourne Station.
He walked the distance from the railway station to the closest inn, The Lion and the Tiger. The innkeeper, a rotund, cheerful man of middle years, greeted him. “Welcome, sir. How may we serve you?”
