Page 84 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

She continued rubbing her wrists as she stood in the dark. They were raw from her pulling on the restraints. Listening, she realized the brothel had quietened. Something told her Farmon would be coming for them soon.

Going to the bed, she shook Hannah awake and had her sit up.

“I think they will try and move us soon,” she said. “The customers are gone. The streets will be deserted.” She gripped Hannah’s shoulders. “When they do, I want you to run if you have the chance. Don’t look back. Don’t wait for me. Just get away. Do you understand?”

The Hannah who had entered this room would never have agreed to leave Laurel behind. The new Hannah merely whispered, “Yes.”

Suddenly, she heard footsteps and released Hannah, taking her hand and sitting on the bed next to her. “Wait until we’re outside. There’s a better chance of escape outdoors. I’ll do what I can to distract them.”

The key turned in the lock and the door swung open, revealing Julius Farmon. His feral smile brought terror to her but Laurel knew she had to stay strong—even if it meant sacrificing herself so Hannah might go free. Laurel had known complete happiness for a short while with Anthony. It was her fault Hannah had been dragged into this situation. If she had to relinquish her own freedom in order for Hannah to earn hers, Laurel was willing to do so in order to give Hannah the opportunity to find love as Laurel had with Anthony.

Since over a day had passed since their abduction, she guessed Farmon had given Anthony a day to raise the requested ransom. By the time they hadn’t returned from the orphanage and her husband received the demand, the banks would have already been closed. That had given yesterday to pull together the sum Farmon would have required. She decided to take a chance and see if she was right.

“Are you taking us to my husband now? Has he agreed to pay for our return?”

The slight hesitation told her all she needed to know. Farmon wouldn’t be delivering them back to Anthony.

“Of course. That’s why I’m here. We’re taking you to Linfield now.”

Laurel made a show of things. “Thank God!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms about Hannah. Then she whispered in her friend’s ear. “He’s lying. When you get the chance, run.”

She pulled Hannah to her feet, noting that neither man held a gun on them. Farmon must have thought them broken in spirit by now and posing no threat, especially since they supposedly believed they would soon be freed.

“Come along,” he ordered.

She clasped Hannah’s elbow, knowing the girl might be a little unsteady. The large man set off and they followed him. Farmon brought up the rear. They were led back down the staircase and along the same long, dark corridor they’d traveled before. When they reached the door to the outside, the man pushed it open and held it while they exited the building. She spied a small coach in the alley. No driver was present so she assumed this man would drive and Farmon would ride inside with them.

The henchman turned away to open the vehicle’s door, presenting the best chance they would ever get. She knew if she got into the carriage, she would never be free. Nudging Hannah, she hissed, “Run.”

Immediately, Laurel wheeled and jammed her knee into Farmon’s bollocks. He gasped, moving his hands to his groin. She’d gone over and over in her mind what came next. Balling her hand into a fist as Gentleman Jack had taught her, she drew back her arm and smashed it into his nose. She didn’t know if the loud crunch came from his nose or her fingers breaking as pain lit her hand on fire.

She was grabbed from behind and knew it was the large man. Before she could react, she heard her name called out.

By Anthony.

He spun her around. Laurel recognized him but couldn’t comprehend him being here. Rage distorted his handsome features. He pushed her aside, raising a pistol and aiming it at Farmon.

“Wait!” she cried, latching on to his forearm and forcing it down.

She knew he had killed many times during war. He was a different man now. If he murdered Farmon in cold blood—even to keep her safe—it would haunt him. Eat away at him. She couldn’t allow Farmon this last victory and enable him to be the ghost between them in their marriage.

“Killing him isn’t good enough,” she said. “Have this monster rot for the rest of his life in prison. Take everything from him, including his freedom. Let him know every day that he is suffering because you put him there.”

Laurel held her breath, not knowing if through his fury, Anthony understood what she said.

He nodded and suddenly Jeremy and Luke latched on to Farmon. She turned and saw Hudson and Merrick pummeling Farmon’s minion into submission. A stranger appeared. He produced handcuffs and tossed them to Luke, who caught them and snapped them around Farmon’s wrists. The stranger pulled out another pair and Hudson and Merrick restrained the man they held so he, too, could be controlled.

Anthony’s arms enveloped her. “You’re safe, my love.”

He kissed her and all her fears melted away. She entwined her arms about his neck, pressing as close as she could. Then she jerked her head away.

“Hannah!” she cried, looking for her friend.

Hannah flung herself at Laurel and the two clung to one another. Then she was pulled away, enfolded in Luke’s arms. She found herself being passed from him to Hudson to Jeremy, as Merrick and Anthony watched, smiles on their faces.

“We need to get you home,” her husband said, returning to her side and slipping his arm about her waist.

The stranger introduced himself as a Bow Street Runner and told them, “I’ll see these two back to headquarters. They’ll be charged by the magistrate.”

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