Lord Trent: Love's Price Part 38

"Are you taking credit for the capture of Harriet Stewart?"

"Yes, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d, and don't even try to pretend I wasn't responsible."

Struthers glanced at Radley who was loitering over by the window.

"Radley," Struthers said, "I could have sworn that you found Harriet Stewart. Aren't I correct?"

"Of course you are," Radley declared. "I located her wandering alone down by the harbor."

"You liar!" Nigel fumed.

"So you see, Mr. Stewart"-Struthers preened-"I have no idea why you've traveled all this way. I owe you nothing."

"I want my reward!" Nigel shouted.

There was a small decorative table next to him, and he pounded his fist on it. It shattered and crashed to the floor.

Struthers gestured to Radley, and Radley picked Nigel up, tossed him over his shoulder, and hauled him out. He was unceremoniously pitched into the street.

Harriet huddled against the prison wall, trying to be invisible. There were hundreds-perhaps thousands-of people incarcerated with her: single men and women, families, widows with their children.

It was a stinking, hungry swarm of humanity, and most everyone looked bewildered over what they'd done to land themselves in the horrid spot.

Another female, a prost.i.tute who'd introduced herself as Josephine-Jo for short-plopped down next to her.

"I just talked to the guard," Jo said. "My bribe's been paid. I'll be out before sunset."

Jo had friends watching out for her. The madam who ran the brothel where Jo was employed had an arrangement with the jailors. Whenever her girls were mistakenly swept up, they were swiftly freed.

Harriet had no one at all.

No one knew where she was. No one knew what had happened. No one in the entire world would be aware if she died.

"It's too bad they stole my purse when they caught me," Jo stated. "If I had any money, I'd leave it with you."

"You've been so kind to me."

"How will you eat? You have to purchase your food."

The terms of her internment were brutal. She had to pay for everything, a bed, a blanket, her meals. Those who couldn't buy food would starve. Those who couldn't afford a room and blanket slept outside and frequently froze to death.

Harriet hadn't learned her legal fate, but she'd either be hanged or s.h.i.+pped off to the penal colonies in Australia. It was reported to be warm there, but most inmates didn't survive the rigorous journey, so-whatever sentence was imposed-the end was nigh.

With her sentiments at their lowest ebb, her demise was beginning to seem like a blessing. She wished Helen could be apprised of her plight. She yearned to have at least one person know that she was deceased.

"It ain't right," Jo complained. "With you being Captain Harcourt's doxy and all. It just ain't right."

"n.o.body cares that I was with him on that stupid island."

"Ha! That's what you think. The whole b.l.o.o.d.y city was rooting for you."

"I don't understand why."

"The ladies was jealous of you being alone with him, and the gents was agog over the s.e.xual side of the situation." Jo wiggled her brows. "If you get my drift."

"Yes, I get it."

"Harcourt is a rich, famous n.o.b," Jo pointed out. "He ought to have helped you."

"It would never have occurred to him."

At the mention of Tristan Harcourt, tears surged and dripped down her cheeks.

"Here now," Jo soothed, patting Harriet's shoulder, "we'll have none of that. Crying is a waste of energy. It never does no good."

"I can't believe he left me to rot. I can't believe he let Bentley Struthers do this to me."

It was silly to be upset at Tristan over her predicament. She'd revealed Struthers's perfidy to him, but she'd pretended that Helen was the one who was in trouble, so why Harriet should hope he'd figure out the truth and ride to her rescue was a mystery.

She had to stop mooning over him. She had to stop wondering how he was and if he ever missed her.

"Your eye is much better," Jo commented.

"Yes, it is. The swelling is down."

When Radley had delivered her to Struthers, Bentley might have raped her, but for some reason, Radley had intervened. So as punishment, Bentley had only managed to administer a single, hard blow with his fist that knocked her down and blackened her eye.

Though Radley had prevented a more vicious a.s.sault, his attack of conscience had only gone so far. He couldn't be persuaded to release her. He'd dumped her at the prison, and Harriet was philosophical about the entire affair. With Struthers not inflicting the ravishment penalty he'd planned, she felt that she'd won the battle.

No matter what transpired, whether she was hanged or deported, she'd bested him in the only manner that counted. Jo clasped her chin, critically studying the bruising.

"Yup, much better. You'll live."

"Wish I wouldn't," Harriet muttered.

"You gotta buck up, Harriet. You gotta stay strong."

"I know. I'm just weary."

"Survive just to spite the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. Vow to come back from Australia someday. Get yourself some revenge."

"Maybe I will."

"If anybody deserves a bit of vengeance, it's you."

They both smiled as a guard called to Jo, and she stood.

"I'm sprung," she said. "You take care."

"I will."

Jo reached out her hands, and Harriet grabbed hold. For a long moment, they stared, a lifetime of friends.h.i.+p pa.s.sing between them in an instant, then Jo was gone, the gate clanging shut behind her.

Harriet closed her eyes and let a vision form, of the hot sun and sandy beach on her deserted island. Her hair and chemise whipped in the wind. She saw Tristan beckoning to her from out in the water, and she leapt up and joined him in the waves.

"The slimy weasel wouldn't pay me!"

"I can't believe it."

Helen was walking down the hall at Brookhaven, and she halted, listening.

Nigel was sequestered in the front parlor with Barbara, and he was very angry. He'd traveled to London to obtain a Special License, and obviously, something dire had occurred while he was in the city. What could it have been?

She tiptoed nearer.

"He should be thanking me," Nigel protested. "Instead, I was insulted, tricked, and tossed out the door."

"He's a beast!" Barbara concurred. "An absolute beast! How dare he treat you that way!"

"What should I do, Mother? How should I proceed?"

"Could you locate Harriet and abscond with her yourself? That would show him."

Harriet! Helen's breath caught in her chest.

Since she'd returned to Brookhaven, she and Nigel had often spoken about Harriet. He kept claiming that he had initiated a search, but she'd seen no proof that an investigation had been launched. Had he known where Harriet was all along?

"If you could retrieve her," Barbara counseled, "you could hide her from him. You could demand a ransom."

"I have no idea where she is," Nigel replied. "Struthers's man took her away in his carriage. She could be anywhere by now."

Helen stepped even closer, her ear pressed to the wood.

"Do you suppose I could sue Struthers for breach of contract?" Nigel asked.

"I haven't a clue. We could consult with an attorney, but it would cost us funds we don't have."

"Why couldn't Struthers be honorable?" Nigel moaned. "Why couldn't he pay me as he swore he would?"

"You shouldn't have surrendered Harriet without getting the reward first."

"I know, Mother. I know! There's no need to pester me."

"You're usually smarter than this. You should have a.s.sumed he would cheat you. You should have antic.i.p.ated a swindle."

Helen was stunned-when she shouldn't have been.

She'd come to Brookhaven at Nigel's behest, wanting desperately to imagine that things had changed. Why had he brought her home with him? What had been his true purpose?

His every act now had to be viewed as suspicious. How had he happened to find her that day in the park? Why had he been so determined to whisk her to the country-away from London where she'd be isolated and cut off from any news?

Why had he been so intent on marrying her? Clearly, he had some other-some unknown-motive. What on earth could it be? She hadn't the vaguest notion.

Her heart heavy, every last hope finally dashed, she opened the door and entered the room.

"Harriet will have to be found again," Barbara was saying. "It's the only chance for you to gain any leverage."

She glanced over, and on espying Helen, she flushed, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng a warning to Nigel. As he spun to face her, his smile was firmly in place.

"Helen," he said, approaching, "I didn't realize you were back from your walk. It's so brisk outside. Are you frozen? Do come over by the fire."

He studied her expression, and he frowned.

"What is it?" he inquired. "You look upset."

"You turned Harriet in for the reward."

"Don't be ridiculous." His frown deepened, innocence oozing from every pore. "Harriet is my cousin, and you're about to be my wife. I'll treat her as if she were my own sister."

"I've been standing in the hall eavesdropping, Nigel, so don't lie to me. Not now. Not about this."

"You're being absurd," Barbara put in. "How would we know where Harriet is? Whatever it is that you think you heard, you're mistaken."

"We've been secretly hunting for her," Nigel insisted. "We meant to surprise you after we located her."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He appeared so guileless, so sincere, and she was so pathetically anxious to trust him. She wanted-just once-to have someone on her side, someone to rely on, but it would never be him.

"You've always hated me," Helen said, "and I never even knew why."

"Honestly," Barbara scoffed, "we don't hate you. We're your family. What a thing to say."

"Is it because of my mother? Because of the Earl of Trent? She was a girl, seduced by a great lord. Can't you forgive her? Especially after all these years! All this animosity seems so pointless."

"We're not distressed about Trent," Nigel contended. "In fact, we're glad he's your father. Aren't we, Mother? Aren't we glad?"

"Yes, we're very glad," Barbara agreed.

"He'll give you a dowry," Nigel explained.

"What? I've never met the man, and I wouldn't humiliate myself by asking for one."

"You won't have to," Nigel said. "I'll speak to him for you. I already sent him a letter, requesting an audience."

"Cancel it."