Just a Marriage of Convenience with the Duke by Hazel Linwood
Chapter 18
“You!” Haskins hissed at Patrick. He pointed to Bridget. “I knew that one was a worthless lightskirt with no morals, but I’d have thought that you had at least a shred of honor about you.”
“You dare talk to me of honor after what you have done? You don’t even know the meaning of the word, nor would I expect you to,” Patrick replied.
Bridget watched in fright as the men exchanged angry words, their insults of the variety such as she had never heard before. She was certain that their shouts would draw the attention of some of the guests above them, but thankfully, none of them appeared.
“Bridget, you know what is at stake,” Lord Haskins finally said, glaring as he addressed her. “Come away with me at once or your family shall suffer the consequences.”
“You will not address her so informally, my lord,” Patrick said, stepping between the earl and the frightened young lady. “You may think you’ve stolen some prized property, but you will not get away with this.”
“I already have, or have you forgotten?” Lord Haskins said, his leering smile belying his words. “I have a marriage contract. I have won, you see. I have finally bested you and there is naught that you can do about it.”
“Bested you?” Bridget asked, turning to Patrick. “What does he mean?”
Patrick shook his head. “It is all so stupid as to almost be laughable! The earl here has never been able to best me in fencing at the club. That has apparently been eating away at his soul all this time, so much so that he has contrived to embarrass me by stealing you away.”
Bridget slowly turned her head to look at Lord Haskins. His smirk had been replaced by a flash of—was it guilt? No, that couldn’t be it.
“All of this suffering, all of this heart ache… was merely over sport?” Bridget asked, horrified at the revelation.
It was the most devastating news, and Bridget’s cheeks flamed with humiliation. She had been used in the cruelest way, only to assuage a scoundrel’s wounded pride? If she had thought herself capable and strong enough, Bridget would have thrown her bare hands around the earl’s neck and choked the very life out of him.
“What, were you somehow under the impression that I would fight for you because of love? Because of your stunning beauty or your great wit?” Lord Haskins scoffed, looking down at Bridget derisively. “You should be grateful that any one man chose you, let alone a second.”
Bridget felt faint, and for a moment thought she might fall over. This was too much to bear.
“As it stands, you are my lawfully betrothed property and I say we are leaving now,” Lord Haskins declared, taking Bridget by the arm.
“You’ll do no such thing, or I shall call you out!” Patrick barked, attempting to step between them.
“Do it, I dare you,” the earl replied. “And your lovely little would-be bride will be the laughingstock of London when everyone within learns how she came out to this garden to be alone with you when I am her betrothed. I will inform them all that you were locked in an illicit embrace when I chanced upon you here.”
Patrick stiffened, his gaze falling on Bridget’s tear-stained face. For her part, she shook her head at him, silently willing him not to pursue Lord Haskins.
“That’s as I thought. You might be handy with a blade, but when it comes to the artful act of conquering your opponent, you’re quite useless,” the earl said, sneering at the younger man.
Without another word, Lord Haskins grasped Lady Bridget by the arm and all but dragged her around the side of the house, avoiding a return through the throngs of guests. She stumbled after him, catching the draping skirts of her gown on various thorns as they navigated the uneven ground. Haskins propelled her forward so roughly she wondered that she might fall, but Bridget refused to give him the grotesque satisfaction of seeing her thrown to the ground.
“Get in,” he ordered as he found his carriage and opened the door.
Bridget reluctantly climbed in as Lord Haskins said a few words to the driver before he climbed up in his seat. The earl soon joined her, sitting back against the far side, and ignoring her trembling.
She did not speak as they pulled away from the house, but Bridget could not remember ever feeling so low. It was as though every single day with the earl was to be an exercise in experiencing new suffering. As they moved through the city, her thoughts were consumed with the desire to be rid of this man. She began to wonder if her life would be so horrible as an outcast from the ton should she marry Patrick instead.
“Wait a moment,” Bridget said, sitting up taller and looking out of the windows. “The driver has taken a wrong turn. This is not the way.”
“I know that,” Lord Haskins droned, sounding bored.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, prepared to scream for anyone who might here.
“To Gretna Green. We are leaving for Scotland… tonight. We will be married as soon as we arrive.”
* * *
Patrick hurried away from the ball, intent on finding Lord Repington and undoing this terrible arrangement. It mattered not to him what the consequences may be. He had ample funds to see them through and enough properties that they could live where they chose. They could even go to the Continent should it come to that, Bridget’s father and sister, too.
Patrick would take care of them all, so long as it meant he could save Bridget from this terrible fate and make her his wife.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” the family’s butler said stiffly as he opened the door to Patrick. “I am afraid the family is not receiving visitors at this hour.”
“It’s all right, Lady Bridget has come home and will wish to speak to me. But I should like to speak to Lord Repington as well,” Patrick assured him.
Mr. Blake frowned. “My apologies, but Lady Bridget is not at home. She attended a ball this evening.”
“Yes, but she left the ball and was returning home. She should be here by now.” Patrick grew so frantic that he stood with his feet planted askew, his fists at his hips.
“But Your Grace, I am very certain she has not returned here. Given the circumstances, I will disturb Lord Repington.” The butler bowed and gestured for Patrick to be seated in the drawing room, then hurried upstairs.
Hardly enough time had passed for the butler to have delivered the message before he returned, Lord Repington following behind him and still putting his arms through the sleeves of his robe.
“Lockhart? What is the matter?” Lord Repington asked rather nervously, glancing back at the butler.
“Have you not heard from Lady Bridget this evening?” Patrick asked directly, his eyes searching the old man’s face hopefully.
“Not since she left with those friends of hers, they were to attend a ball. Are you saying she did not attend?”
“No, she did. But… there was an incident with Lord Haskins. He ordered her to leave and stated he was delivering her at home, but I find she is not here,” Patrick explained, attempting to spare the earl as many of the unsavory details as possible.
“You mean Lord Haskins was to carry her home, but he has not been here this evening,” Lord Repington said, growing worried.
Behind them, Harriet crept down the stairs and stood framed in the doorway, trembling. Taking note of her, Patrick spoke to her.
“Do you know anything of Lady Bridget’s whereabouts?” he asked, hopeful that perhaps there was some scheme between them for Bridget to escape.
“Nothing,” she replied truthfully. “Do you mean to say that this horrible man has taken Bridget away?”
At her turn of phrase, Patrick was overcome with a heavy feeling of dread. Of course. He has taken her away, he thought miserably, most likely to…
“Scotland,” Patrick said, the fight going out of him. “He’s taken her there to marry her.”
“I will not stand for this!” Lord Repington bellowed, the first sign of life appearing in him since the horrible situation began. “I permitted that man to force my hand and resolve my issues—my own problems that are my own fault, that is—but this is too far!”
“Father, what will you do?” Harriet asked fearfully, rushing to his side, and clinging to his arm.
“I will ride after them, that’s what I’ll do. And once I catch up to them, I will challenge Lord Haskins… as I should have done when he first blackmailed me,” the earl replied proudly, trying to remain resolute. “I’m an old man, and should I fall to his pistol, I will at least know that my name lives on honorably for this.”
“I will ride with you,” Patrick replied firmly, “but no one needs to die. We will not lower ourselves to the sort of cowardly villainy that he has shown. When we find him, we will ensure Lady Bridget’s safety and detain the earl until the constable can take him away.”
“That is a sound notion,” Lord Repington replied, inclining his head. “I defer to your less hot-headed nature then.”
“When will you go? Surely you cannot go after them at this hour of night without facing terrible peril,” Harriet protested.
“We must, I’m afraid,” her father replied. “They have already gone on ahead of us, we must do all we can to overtake their carriage. Surely our horses will be able to do so.”
“Mr. Blake? May I trouble you to dispatch messages to the magistrate ordering all available constables to search the roads out of London?” Patrick asked. “I’m sure they need not go more than a couple hours’ ride, given that Haskins is in a carriage.”
“Certainly, Your Grace. I will see to it at once,” the butler replied, bowing, and racing off to comply.
“Repington, let us be on our way. We have a lot of ground to cover,” Patrick instructed, though he stopped. “We will first go to my home and take my horses. I think we should need my pistols as well.”
“Father, what should I say if anyone inquires after Bridget? I don’t want to besmirch her good name,” Harriet asked, fretting as her father put on his coat.
“You should tell them… the truth. It was my own attempt at keeping my problems under a cloak of secrecy that caused all of this in the first place. Had I been forthcoming and honest and dealt with my debts in good faith, Bridget would be sitting in this very room right now, perhaps already happily wed to a man of honor and courage,” he said, looking proudly at Patrick. “There will be no more secrets in the name of preserving one’s reputation. All that matters now is having Bridget home again.”
