Page 175 of Harpy of the Ton
The carriage tilted sideways, and a man emerged. Tall and muscular, his hair caught the sunlight and sparkled with gold—hair she knew to be silken to the touch. He stood, regarding her with clear gray eyes that she knew and loved—eyes that she knew darkened to the color of coal at the point of pleasure.
“Lawrence…”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Lawrence fisted hishands, fighting the instinct to spring forward and smash Dunton’s face to pieces.
That vile bastard had his filthy hands all over Bella. Nausea clawed at his stomach as he caught sight of her torn neckline, below which he could discern the outline of her breasts.
Even with her in the clutches of her tormentor, Bella’s eyes flashed with spirit. But as she caught sight of Lawrence, the fire died in her eyes.
“Lawrence…”
His heart ached at the sorrow in her voice. Did she really believe what she’d said to Whitcombe? That he hated her?
“H-how did you find me?”
“Your maid—Connie, is it?” Whitcombe said. “She told us where you’d gone.”
“Is she all right?” Bella asked.
“She’s safe, Lady Arabella. Her brother’s with her.”
“A-and you came to help me?”
Whitcombe smiled. “Trelawney can be a persuasive man when he wants to be.”
Dunton stared at Whitcombe, dim-witted confusion in his expression.
Her captor having lowered his guard, Bella twisted herself free, then she rammed her knee into Dunton’s groin. He toppled forward with a groan, landing on his knees.
“Miserable whore!”
“Better a whore than your wife,” she sneered.
Dunton clutched his groin and groaned. “Thomas…”
Whitcombe barked, “Rutley! Smith!”
Two footmen climbed down from Whitcombe’s carriage. The first drew a pistol.
“I came prepared,” Whitcombe said. He gestured toward Millie. “Rutley, see to it thatThomasremains where he is. You’re at liberty to shoot if he moves. Smith, take care of the woman.”
Millie let out a sigh and opened her eyes, and Thomas tightened his grip on her.
“Let her go!” Bella cried.
She stepped forward, but Dunton pulled her back.
Lawrence sprang forward. “Get your filthy hands off my wife.”
“Wife!” Dunton scoffed. “She was nothing more than a slut who spread her legs for you.”
“She’s my wife in everything that matters,” Lawrence said. “I didn’t need no piece of paper to know that I loved her—and love her still.”
Bella’s eyes widened, and Lawrence’s heart ached at the disbelief in them. He held out his hands, holding his breath. She stared at them for a moment, then met his gaze, a sheen of moisture in her eyes.
“You love me?”
