A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XXXVIII. Meddling

When he saw the relief in her face, he nearly laughed. He was not done.

"But what I do not understand, Miss Randolph, is why you would want to betray a friend who had been naught but good to you. Why would you risk losing my brother's protection?" He let out a look of mocked confusion. "You are in need of protection, that is given. But from whom? Surely not your second lover here in Wickhurst, the man who nearly killed you. A fool would know that to escape out of town would be the best way. But you chose to stay here. That leaves Alan Osegod then, yes?"

Her eyes widened and the panic resurfaced. Her lips pursed, hands balling into fists beside her.

Thomas sighed. "But why would a Town Leader come after you? Surely there are far more beautiful women in Willowfair to satisfy him." He chuckled when she lifted her chin in an arrogant fashion. "You betrayed your friend to secure my brother's protection for what, Miss Randolph? Why the desperation?"

"The money?" Her jaw flinched. "Mayhap, but not quite enough. For someone who has as much pride as you, I believe you would have secured another position as a governess here instead of once again making yourself yet another man's mistress. Surely a governess' wage could eventually pay off your parents' debts." He sipped from his glass once again. "Mayhap the debts were not the only cause of monetary concern. I wonder then what happened in those missing three years before you came to Wickhurst."

This time her gaze was murderous. "I told you to stop, my lord. Remove yourself from my estate!"

"I shall, after our talk, of course," he snapped at her darkly. "You have done enough damage on Ysabella Everard, I heard. She is a sweet lady and I have gotten quite fond of her. And you broke her heart. Why, Miss Randolph? Surely there is a far justifiable reason behind betraying one's friend."

"I have no friends," she spat out although her eyes did waver at the last word.

"What could make a woman so desperate that she would whore herself and betray those around her?" he continued. "Money? Greed for more of the same? Protection? Revenge?" He slowly smiled, letting the silence reign a little longer before he added, "a child."

And that was when he finally saw her show real emotion. The fury in her eyes as she stormed toward him nearly made him jump to his feet. "You bastard!" she shouted, tears flying out of her eyes as she approached.

But she stopped short when Thomas said, "Take another step and your precious girl shall be taken out of Granville and I would personally deliver her to her own father." The horror in her eyes was quite unsettling. "He wants her, does he not? Or should I say, he does not want her enough that he desires to find you and dispose of her."

Her face contorted in fury and pain, her face the same hue as her hair, her eyes scathing.

Thomas smiled. "Ah, the wonders of a child. Such a small creature, yet so capable of innocently pushing one to do the vilest of deeds."

"I swear if you touch one strand of her hair, I will torch you alive," her shaky voice warned and he almost believed her. He saw it her eyes—the passion and fire too great that he knew he had finally found her greatest weakness. Before he could say more, she said, "What do you want from me? I know your kind, my lord. You always want something."

"Simple, Miss Randolph. You disappear from my brother's life completely. You free Wickhurst of your filthy presence."

She scoffed. "I intend to do that."

"But I shall make the arrangements for you, of course."

"I can manage—"

"With the money you can get from selling this estate? It shall cost quite much, but would it be enough to offer you the protection you need from Osegod? Enough to see through your child's needs?" He shook his head when she remained silent, lips quivering. "It would barely cover your little angel's expenses, my dear. I am correct, yes? Her condition is not as perfect as the others." He sighed and stood up. "You cannot forever whore yourself for men would always find someone younger and more fun." He gave her an assessing look. "And by how I see you, you are no fun at all, Miss Randolph. One look into your eyes and a man would immediately see trouble and a deep, seething kind of doom." He placed his glass on the table. "It is settled. A carriage shall arrive by the morrow to take you out of Wickhurst. You shall assume a new identity and yes, Miss Randolph, I shall be kind enough to allow the girl to join you."