Page 13 of Beth: A Regency Romance Novell

“Aw, I cannot tell ye. ’E’ll be along soon and mustna find me here.”

“Did he ask you to lay out that wedding gown? Why?”

Lilly nodded. “’E don’t tell me ’is plans, miss.”

“Unlock the bedchamber door, Lilly,” Beth said sternly, she suspected the girl did know. “I’ll slip away. You can come with me if you wish.”

“I cannot!” The maid paled and shook her head. “I don’t have the key.”

Lilly must have the key. Beth eyed the small slim girl. She could wrestle it from her. Was it possible to escape the house before he came after her? She didn’t want to leave the maid to Ramsey’s wrath. If he lay in wait for her, they’d both be in trouble. “Please, Lilly. Won’t you help me?”

Lilly cast a frightened glance at the door. “’E’ll know it’s me who let you go, miss. I’ll lose me job ’ere. That is, if ’e don’t kill me first.”

“We’ll escape together. My brother-in-law, the Duke of Harrow will help you. You can join the staff at one of his estates. Would you like that?” Jenny would see it was done.

“A duke?” Lilly’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t be foolin’ me, miss? That would be cruel.”

“No, I mean it, Lilly, every word,” Beth said impatiently. Ramsey would appear at any moment. “Your master is in very serious trouble. He will be thrown into prison. And then you’ll have to leave here.” Beth shook the girl’s arm. “Unlock the door, quickly! We must leave now.”

Lilly gasped. She dug into her pocket.

The jangle of a key in the lock startled them. Lilly was gone in a flash and the panel closed silently behind her sealing off the passageway.

Alone again, Beth only had time to whirl around as Ramsey stalked through the door. She straightened her shoulders ready to fight him with every ounce of her strength. While she wouldn’t give the maid away, just knowing Lilly was there gave her a small measure of comfort.

“Shall we dine?” He held out his arm to her ever the polite gentleman.

Beth bit her lip to stop from berating him. She was eager to leave this bedchamber and decided to play along, put him off guard. “Yes, indeed. I’m hungry. I missed supper at the ball.”

“You’ve seen sense. Good.” He tucked her hand firmly into his arm and walked with her to the staircase.

She observed the oak beamed ceiling and the ancient iron sconces on the walls. Some old houses had priest holes too, to hide the Catholics from Cromwell’s Roundheads. “How old is this house?”

“Seventeenth century,” he said curtly as they descended. “If you’re so interested you might ask the ghosts.”

“I haven’t come across any.”

“Give it time.” He seemed really to believe it.

“Have you seen them?”

“No.” She felt him shudder.

On the floor below, he opened the drawing room door and pushed her roughly inside. He’d already forgotten his manners.

“Who wore the wedding gown?” she asked seeing no point in humoring him.

His mouth thinned. “Baroness Ramsey.”

“Your mother or your wife?”

“Questions, questions. My, but you are a tiresome girl.” He strolled through the room. “We’ll play faro after we dine.”

“What if I beat you? How can I trust you to keep your word? To let me go without…?” Words failed her. She glared at him. “You are an utter scoundrel.”

He took her shoulders in his hands, pulling her hard against him. Her frightened breath drew in the strong smell of spirits. His eyes were suddenly dark with rage. Horrified, she tried to pull back, but his fingers sank painfully into her flesh. “You have no choice, do you? And I don’t see that it matters, for you won’t beat me.”

“You can’t be sure of that.” Beth put both hands against his chest and pushed. Perhaps her effrontery surprised him, for he let her go. She stepped away rubbing a sore spot on her shoulder to rid it of his touch. “I might win. Then you must keep your promise.”

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