Page 72 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
“I think you broke her heart.”
“Then I best find her so I can apologize.”
“Where will you go?” she asked.
“I’ll pay some late-night visits to our gentlemen friends and see what I can discover. You should go home.”
She nodded. “I believe I’ll speak to Lady Somersby first.”
“Thank you for your help, Matilda. I promise I’ll find her.”
Fletcher went first to Lord Travers’s townhome, but the butler said that the entire family had recently left town for the month. Which meant that he likely wasn’t Agnes’s admirer. Which left only Lord Barrow’s son. Fletcher knew Michael, if only in passing, but the man had seemed on the up-and-up.
He directed the driver to the correct address and cursed to the empty carriage. Damn Celeste. Had she not cornered him…or had he not allowed Agnes to walk away the other day.
The carriage slowed and Fletcher jumped from the rig before it had completely stopped. He was halfway up the paved walkway when someone grabbed his arm.
He turned and came face-to-face with Lord Somersby, who was one of the only men in London larger than Fletcher.
“Somersby,” he hissed. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re here,” his wife whispered back, then slipped out from behind her giant of a husband.
“Relax, Wakefield,” Somersby said. “We’re here to help.”
“Agnes is one of mine,” Lady Somersby said. “Matilda told us what has been going on.”
Fletcher slowed his breathing. He knew he couldn’t rush in there and potentially put Agnes’s life in danger. “Are they in there?”
“There has been movement from that second-floor window,” Somersby said, nodding his head upward.
Fletcher glanced up. “I’m glad I had the carriage drop me off farther up the street.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I need for her to be safe.”
Somersby nodded. “You go in the servants’ entrance on the side and we’ll follow behind.”
“She’s trained,” Lady Somersby said. “And likely wearing a weapon of some sort.”
“Yes, I’ve seen her handiwork,” Fletcher said. “Still, this man has been escalating his intentions toward her and I don’t trust him.”
Fletcher left them in the darkness as he made his way into the servants’ entrance. It didn’t take much leverage to work the lock open and he found himself in a corridor with stairs leading up and down. He crept up, hoping that they’d lead to the right floor.
He refused to entertain the thought of losing Agnes. She would be safe and she would be his wife.
…
Agnes released a strained breath and tried again to work off the ties binding her wrists.
Michael was pacing the length of the room, his hair askew from all the times he’d pushed his fingers through it. His pale eyes were wide and crazed…wild looking.
If only she could get her hand up her skirts to reach her dagger. But the man had been clever and had tied her hands.
“Do you intend to keep me tied up forever?” she asked tartly.
His gaze landed on her and he flinched as if she’d struck him. “Of course not. You are to be my wife, Agnes. I love you.”
She exhaled slowly.
“Until you see the truth of how we belong together, how you are meant to be mine, I’m afraid I have to keep you restrained.” He moved to stand directly in front of her and he cupped her face. “You are so beautiful.”
