Secrets of Surrender Read online

  Rose clenched her teeth to avoid crying or screaming. Everyone was watching, laughing. Even Katy. All the whores nodded. Yes, Miss Longworth was one of those ladies who like to pretend. These women who never pretended had little sympathy.

  No, not everyone was watching. The new guest appeared not to hear. He drank his wine as if oblivious to this performance.

  “Now, here is the thing,” Norbury said. “I’ve this woman here, but I tire of her. I regret the indulgence and gifts that permit her to appear so lovely among you. Indeed, I’ve my eye on another.” He leered at Katy, who tried to look coy and surprised. “George there seems to be thinking a simple trade is in order. Don’t demur, George, I’ve been watching you flirt. I’m thinking, however, that maybe I can recoup my losses for this dress and whatnot. So, what do you say, gentlemen? Shall I auction off Miss Longworth?”

  The party thought an auction would be wonderful fun. Laughter and calls rang off the ceiling as everyone prepared for a grand diversion.

  Rose could not hide her appalled shock. She turned on Norbury and allowed him to see it. That only fed his satisfaction.

  “I will not stand for this outrage.” She moved her chair back and turned to leave. A hand on her arm stopped her.

  “She has spirit and still needs taming, gentlemen. That alone should be worth a few shillings to some of you.” He gripped tightly. Despite his laughter his glare contained a threat.

  A few of the men sat up and took notice. She sickened at the evidence that an unwilling woman actually appealed to them.

  “Let me see, I should hawk her a bit, shouldn’t I?” Norbury made a display of thinking it over.

  She wanted to hit him. No, she wanted to kill him. She tried to pull her arm away but his fingers only dug deeper. “You will not do this.”

  He ignored her. “Well, as all can see, she is very lovely. I have always thought she was among the most beautiful women in London.”

  “That beauty won’t last much longer,” a bawd warned. “She is older than me by a few years, I’d say.”

  “It is true that she is of maturing years, but the man who wins her will have shed her long before her delicious beauty dims.” He scratched his head. “In the interests of fairness I need to describe the defects too, don’t I? How do I put this delicately? No damned way, I guess. I am honor-bound to reveal that she is not an especially warm woman, if you gentlemen know what I mean.”

  She held on to the anger so she would not swoon. The faces seemed to multiply and move anyway, until she was on the block in front of a hundred leering masks.

  “I am also bound to say that due to her late initiation, she still requires considerable training.”

  Dear God.

  “I could give her a few lessons,” a whore offered confidently.

  Norbury bowed to her. “My dear, in the book of carnal knowledge you are writing chapter twenty and Miss Longworth has not yet studied chapter two. There are men who enjoy the role of schoolmaster, and it is they who should open their purses.”

  Rose refused to react. A few more of the men’s interest suddenly piqued. Norbury’s grip tightened yet more, almost numbing her arm.

  “To her credit, however, I can offer several points,” he said. “One, she is not greedy. Second, for those of you who, like me, were inconvenienced by her brother’s ruin, her favors are one repayment—”

  Shocked anew, she could not hold her pose of indifference. She turned and stared at him. She had no idea that he had been touched by that. No idea at all.

  She had not misunderstood nearly as much as she was telling herself. He had deliberately pursued and seduced her for revenge.

  The scoundrel.

  “—and third, she has the most erotic dark nipples for one so fair.”

  They went wild. Amidst the shouts, a few called demands to see the charms that Norbury had just promised.

  She spoke so only he could hear. “Do not even think to degrade me further by complying with that suggestion. If you dare to try it, I will do violence to you and gladly go to the gallows for it.”

  Lord Norbury’s smirk wavered. He opened the bidding.

  “Twenty-five pounds,” George offered.

  “Thirty!”

  “Thirty-five,” George countered after an ungallant pause.

  “Fifty!”

  “Sixty.” A sly-eyed gentleman joined in. Rose recognized him as Sir Maurice Fenwick. His interest horrified her. It was unlikely that her willingness would matter much to this one.

  “Sixty-five,” George said in a tone of finality.

  “Seventy.”

  “Seventy-five,” Sir Maurice said immediately.

  “Nine hundred and fifty pounds.” The calm, even-toned bid seemed to come out of nowhere.

  Shocked silence hung for a long moment, then a low buzz swarmed through the chamber. Everyone looked around to see which besotted gentleman had lost all sense.

  Roselyn was as astonished as the rest. And very worried. It would be one thing to deny a man his seventy-five pounds’ worth. A man who paid nine hundred and fifty would probably force a different accounting.

  The party’s attention found its way down the table to where the new guest drank some wine.

  Lord Norbury aimed a frown at him. “Nine hundred and fifty, Bradwell? No doubt you misspoke.”

  The guest called over a footman and whispered something, then looked back very soberly. “Not at all. Feel free to continue the bidding.”

  Norbury’s gaze darted around the table, but the high bid had taken the wind out of the auction’s sails. Mr. Bradwell waited like a man in no hurry. He appeared to be more interested in admiring the candelabra on the table than on the progress of the game he had entered.

  When the silence had stretched long enough, he rose and walked down the room.

  Rose assessed his size and demeanor. Her instincts warned that she would have been better off with corpulent, happy George or even dangerous Sir Maurice. She might have even been better with Lord Norbury, who, she had just discovered, believed her capable of the violence she had threatened.

  There was nothing visibly untoward about Mr. Bradwell. His very presentable garments and perfectly styled, wavy dark hair marked him as a man of wealth even more than his bid had. His face appeared rough-hewn in the candlelight. If people called him handsome, which he was, they would tend to add “in his way.”

  His skin had more color than the faces of the other men here, as if he spent time out-of-doors, and the fit of his coats revealed that he engaged in sport. Strength could be seen in his tall frame and in his confident, fluid movements.

  There was nothing specifically threatening about him, but he alarmed her anyway. She sensed that the air parted to make room for him. The ripples of its retreat eddied over her, and she wanted to float away on them. The caution in her was similar to what one experiences when one meets unknown dogs on the road. Her instincts said it would be wise to give this particular animal wide berth.

  He came up beside Norbury and the candlelight illuminated his face. She saw the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Those deep-set pools did not look at her at all. Instead they fixed on the man still holding her arm in a vise.

  “Are we done?” Mr. Bradwell asked quietly. “Or do you feel obliged to knock her down?”

  While “knock down” was an auction term, Lord Norbury seemed to think another entendre was intended. His face flushed. “You are a fool to spend such a sum.”

  “To be sure, but if a man can’t be a fool about a beautiful woman, what good is money?”

  “You just did it to—” Norbury caught himself before the petulant accusation was finished. The icy reflections lit his eyes. “See where your pride has gotten you, Rosie. From a viscount to a man born in the pits of Durham. Your fall may be the most rapid one in the history of whoring.”

  Mr. Bradwell did not react to the insult. “You can release her now. She is coming with me. The money will be delivered to your London house in two days.”


  Lord Norbury let her go. Rose saw the imprints of his fingers marking her. Mr. Bradwell did as well. Subtle anger flexed beneath his calm expression. The animal energy contained in this man leaked out. This was not someone who liked others to damage his property.

  “Impatient are you, eh?” Norbury said loudly, to let the others enjoy the denouement.

  “Absolutely,” Mr. Bradwell said. “Come with me, Miss Longworth.”

  She did not want to go with him. She did not expect him to continue acting like a gentleman once they were alone. Her stomach turned violently at what might be waiting.

  He leaned toward her. Dear heavens, he was going to kiss her! Right here in front of everyone.

  The kiss was no more than a warm breath, but the dining room erupted into applause and hoots. While his face was close to hers, and his mouth near her ear, he spoke again. “Do not resist. They have had enough sport at your expense. I am sure that you do not want to give them more.”

  She had no choice but to accept his escort; otherwise, he would make good on his threat to give them more sport. Dragging the tattered rags of her dignity together as best she could, steeling herself to fight the battle soon to come, she accompanied the man who had bought her out of the dining room.

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  Miss Longworth walked beside him like a queen. Kyle admired how well she hid her humiliation. No one else saw the moistness in her eyes.

  She almost broke once the doors closed behind them. Almost. One long pause in her steps, one deep inhale, and she walked on.

  She refused to acknowledge him. Of course. She was in a very vulnerable position now. They both knew she was at his mercy. The amount he had bid gave her good reason to worry.

  Nine hundred and fifty pounds. He had been an idiot. The alternative had been to allow that sordid auction to take its own course, however. Fat, pliable George would not have won, either.

  Sir Maurice Fenwick had been determined to have her, and the way he examined the property for sale did not speak well of his intentions. Sir Maurice’s dark excesses were infamous.

  “I called for my carriage,” he said. “Go up with the footman here and pack. He will carry your baggage down. Be quick about it.”

  Her posture straightened more. “I will not need to pack. Everything up there was ill-gotten and I want no reminder of the man who gave it.”

  “You have more than paid for every garment and jewel. You would be a fool to leave them behind.”

  Her exquisite face remained calm and perfect, but the glints in her eyes dared him to make a horrible night worse.

  “As you wish.” He shrugged off his frock coat and placed it around her shoulders. He beckoned her to follow him.

  “I am not going with you.”

  “Trust me, you are. Now, before Norbury thinks twice about allowing it.”

  She kept her gaze skewed to the side of his head. She might have been looking past an obstructing piece of furniture.

  He admired her pride. Right now, however, it was ill-timed and a nuisance. He wondered if she realized how perilous her position had been back there, and still was.

  “I am sure that you know that I did not agree to that spectacle, Mr. Bradwell.”

  “You didn’t? Well, damnation. How disappointing.”

  “You sound amused. You have a peculiar sense of humor.”

  “And you have chosen a bad time and place for this conversation.”

  She refused to budge. “If I go with you, where will you be taking me?”

  “Perhaps to a brothel, so you can earn back what I will be paying Lord Norbury. To be deprived of both the price and the prize doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

  Her attention abruptly shifted to his face. She tried to make her gaze disdainful, but fear showed enough to make him regret his cruel response.

  “Miss Longworth, we must leave now. You will be safe, I promise.” He forced the matter by placing his arm behind her shoulders and physically moving her out of the reception hall.

  He got her as far as the carriage door before she resisted. She stopped cold and stared into the dark, enclosed space. He forced himself to be patient.

  Suddenly his frock coat hit him in the face. He pulled it away and saw her striding down the lane, into the night. Her pale hair and dress made her appear like a fading dream.

  He should probably let her go. Except there was no place for her to go, especially in those flimsy slippers women wore to fancy dinners. The closest town or manor was miles away. If something happened to her—

  He threw the coat into the carriage, told the coachman to follow, and headed after her.

  “Miss Longworth, I cannot allow you to go off on your own. It is dark, the way is dangerous, and it is cold.” He barely raised his voice but she heard him well enough. Her head turned for a quick assessment of how close he was.

  “You are safe with me, I promise.” He walked more quickly but she did too. She angled toward a woods flanking the lane. “Forgive me my crude joke. Come back and get into the carriage.”

  She bolted, running for the woods. If she reached them he’d be searching for her for hours. The dense trees allowed little moonlight to penetrate.

  He ran after her, closing fast. She ran harder when she heard his boots nearing. The scent of her fear came to him on the cold breeze.

  She cried out when he caught her. She turned wild, fighting and scratching. Her claws found his face.

  He caught her hands, forced them behind her back, and held them there with his left hand. He imprisoned her body with his right arm and braced her against him.

  She screamed in fury and indignation. The night swallowed the sounds. She squirmed and twisted like a madwoman. He held firmer.

  “Stop it,” he commanded. “I am not going to hurt you. I said that you are safe with me.”

  “You are lying! You are a rogue just like them!”

  All the same she suddenly stilled. She gazed up at him. The moonlight showed her anger and anguish, but determination entered her eyes.

  She pressed her body closer to his. He felt her breasts against his chest. The willing contact startled him. He reacted like any man would, instantly. His erection prodded her stomach.

  “See. Just like them,” she said. “I would be a fool to trust you.”

  He barely heard her. Her face was beautiful in the moonlight. Mesmerizing. A moment stretched while he forgot what had led to this crude embrace. He only noticed every place where they touched and the softness of the body he held. Thunder rolled in his head.

  Her expression softened. A lovely astonishment widened her eyes. Her lips parted slightly. The fight completely left her and she became all pliant womanhood in his arms.

  She stretched toward the kiss he wanted to give her, and the moonlight enhanced her perfection even more.

  Suddenly it also revealed her bared teeth aiming up at his face.

  He moved his head back just in time. She used the opportunity to try to break free again.

  Cursing himself for being an idiot again, he bent down and rose with her slung over his shoulder. Her fists beat his back. She damned him to hell all the way to the carriage.

  He dumped her into the carriage and settled across from her.

  “Attack me again and I will turn you over my knee. I am no danger to you, and I’ll be damned if I will let you claw and bite me after I paid a fortune to save you from men who are.”

  Whether his threat subdued her or she just gave up, he could not tell. The carriage moved. He found the frock coat buried amidst his rolls of drawings and handed it to her. “Put this on so you are not cold.”

  She obeyed. Her fear and wariness filled the air for several silent miles.

  “Nine hundred and fifty was a high amount to pay for nothing,” she finally said.

  “The alternative was to let a man pay a lot less for something, wasn’t it?”

  She seemed to shrink inside the frock coat. “Thank you.” Her gratitude came on a
small, trembling voice.

  She was not weeping, although she had good cause to. Her pride, so admirable thirty minutes ago, now irritated him. The burning scratches on his face probably had something to do with that.

  He wondered if she understood the consequences of this night. She had dodged a man’s misuse, but she would not escape the ruin coming when the world learned of that party and that auction. And the world would learn about it, he had no doubt.

  Perhaps now, in the calm after the storm, she was assessing the costs, just as he was assessing his own. Norbury had been angered by his interference. He had not liked his fun spoiled and his revenge made less complete. The Earl of Cottington might be the benefactor, but his heir now held the purse strings and influence.

  “I apologize for losing my head.”

  “It is understandable after your ordeal.” It still impressed him, how well he had learned the lessons and syntax of polite discourse. They had become second nature, but sometimes the first nature still spoke in his head. Damn right you should apologize.

  “I am so fortunate that you arrived. I am so glad there was one sober man there, who would be appalled at what Norbury was doing, and immune to his evil lures.”

  Oh, he had been appalled, but not nearly immune. He had paid a fortune, after all.

  A few speculative images entered his head regarding what he would have been buying if he were not so damned decent. That embrace on the lane made the fleeting fantasy quite vivid.

  He was glad for the dark so she could not see his thoughts. He could not see her face, either, which was for the best. She possessed the kind of beauty that left half of a man’s soul in perpetual astonishment. He did not like that kind of disadvantage.

  “May I ask you some questions?” She sounded very composed again. The lady had been rescued as was only her due. She would sleep contentedly tonight.