Devilish | Moriarty The Patriot

Chapter 14 | Gunpoint

Louise decided to drink in the bathtub. It was three in the morning, and beauty sleep meant nothing. Her muscles were sore... from many things. Louise was exhausted. 

She noted that the bathwater had turned red, and she freaked out thinking that she was bleeding. Touching around her body, there were no cuts. Only a few insignificant bruises. Searching the bottom of the tub, her hand bumped into something solid. She had dozed off for a few hours in the bathtub, dropping the wine bottle in the water. Frustrated, she stepped out of the bathtub, her hair smelling faintly of wine. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she recognized that some strands of hair had turned a slightly strawberry blond color from the wine stains. If she rinsed it with water and soap, it would most likely wash out. 

Then she collapsed onto her bed and fell into a deep slumber. 

꧁༺ ༻꧂

The next morning arrived mercilessly. Three maids stormed into her room at 8 am. One pulled out a fine velvet silk dress, a brassiere, and a loose corset. The others attended to her face and hair, patting down her cheeks and eyelids with makeup and combing her hair until it shined. 

"My lady, have you been drinking?" one of the maids asked, smelling the faint, sweet alcoholic scent emitting off her hair. 

"Do I smell like wine?" 

"Faintly so." 

"Is it bad?"

"It smells fruity, but Count Marcelle has ordered that you smell like roses."

Louise rolled her eyes. The maid emerged with a bowl full of lukewarm water and a soft towel. They let her lay on the daybed, soaking her hair in the water, washing out the redness. The dress hugged her body comfortably. It was almost too revealing for an unmarried woman. 

"You look beautiful Lady Isabella."

"Thank you, Emily."

Louise waltzed over to her handbag and sifted through her wallet. Then Louise went to each of the maids and stuffed a handful of coins into their hands. 

"Go buy yourselves something nice." She said. 

They all blushed and bowed frantically before scurrying out of the room. 

Louise followed after, locking the door to her room. She stepped out into the lobby of the luxurious hotel room where Count Marcelle was waiting. He seemed irritated. 

"Apparently Count Taylor would like to see you alone," he grumbled. 

"That's odd. Maybe he doesn't need your permission to marry me," she snickered. Count Marcelle glared at her. 

"You will talk business. Tell him that I am interested in investing in his new leather company." 

"Of course. Have I ever, not landed you a deal?" 

"I was supposed to have a deal with Count Harrison." 

"He was murdered for fucks sake."

"Watch your mouth girl." 

"Only around you papa," she winked at him. 

Count Marcelle scrunched up his nose. She knew he liked it when he called her that. She had given him more than his real son and daughter could offer. It sat right with him that Louise was his true daughter. What an asshole. She thought. 

The carriage sent by Count Taylor was already at the front of the hotel lobby. The concierge took her hand and helped her up into the carriage. 

Louise immediately recognized the situation she was in. The carriage door slammed shut and took off before she could waltz out. Louise glanced up at the man seated in front of her. He was dressed in a black coat, his hands folded promptly on top of a brown folder. She looked at his face, yellow eyes met her violet ones.