ELIZA HAD KEPT HER WITS ABOUT HER WHILE confronted by the two villains, but now that Sir Henry was fighting her battle for her, she shook so badly her legs could barely carry her. Roberts took her elbow and gently guided her through the market to the carriage, where she spent a tense half hour waiting for the business to be completed and Henry to return.
Roberts put a cup of mulled wine in her hand, which settled her nerves somewhat, but she still jumped when Henry opened the carriage door. Sliding onto the seat next to her, he drew her into his arms, only to pull back immediately when she cried out in pain as her breasts came into contact with his chest. “Good Lord, Eliza, where are you hurt?”
She indicated her nipples, flaming scarlet with embarrassment. “Hobbs … he twisted them … really hard.” Hot tears shot to her eyes at the memory.
A gentle hand touched her cheek, and Henry lightly kissed her forehead. “He will never touch you again, I promise.”
Eliza leaned into the kiss and thanked her lucky stars she was sitting here with Henry and not in some hovel with Wilkins or—God forbid—Hobbs.
She raised weary eyes to him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to bear your touch on my breasts for a while.”
Henry was momentarily stunned. “You what?” As he slowly began to comprehend her meaning, he was chagrined. “You think because I didn’t correct … ”
Eliza did something she had never done before: she cut him off. “You bought me.”
Anger flashed in Henry’s eyes, and his words were hard and clipped. “I did not buy you! I merely bought your freedom; there’s a difference. I do not believe one human being should be allowed to own another. I know it goes on, but I don’t condone it, and I certainly have no wish to own you.”
Eliza collapsed into a tearful heap and breathed, “Oh, thank God.”
Henry’s expression softened as he thought back to the scene in the alley and realized how things must have seemed to Eliza, especially considering how men in the past had treated her as an object to be bought and sold. He gently took both her hands into one of his and lifted her chin so she would look at him. “Eliza, my sweet. When I heard you scream earlier, my heart stopped, and when I saw it was Hobbs who was dragging you toward his alley, the blood froze in my veins. All I could think of was how to get to you, and how you could get away from them. I allowed them to think I had made you my mistress to free you, without thinking of how you might feel, and I apologize. I certainly do not expect you to become my mistress. It never entered my mind you might think I was buying you. Please accept that my only goal was to secure your freedom from those miscreants.”
She gave him a watery smile and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe she had ever doubted him. “I should’ve known you’re not like that. Forgive me.”
His smile broadened. “There is nothing to forgive.”
She held his gaze and willed him to grasp her sincere appreciation. “Thank you for coming after me, for rescuing me once again. When they took hold of me in the plaza, I knew I somehow had to make noise, create a commotion so you would know where to look for me. I hoped you’d come after me, and you did. I owe you so much! How can I even begin to repay you?”
His response was simple: “You don’t owe me anything. You are my friend and I only did what I would do for any of my friends.”
She laid a hand on his cheek and stretched up to press a soft kiss to his lips. When she winced as the fabric of her chemise chafed her nipples, his gaze dropped to her breasts. “He really is a rare bastard. Turn around and lean on my shoulders so I can hold you. I think we both need that right now.”
Eliza turned around and did as he said, grateful for the comfort of his arms. He leaned his cheek against her hair, placed the contract Wilkins had signed into her hands, and prayed she would soon realize it truly was over and she was free to do as she pleased.
UPON THEIR RETURN TO CAVENDISH Square, Henry led Eliza into the library, settled her on the sofa before the fire, and sent William to find Mrs. Tibbit. But just before the door closed behind William, Henry thought better of it. “Wait, William, you had better send in Daisie as well. Hobbs hurt Miss Eliza in a way she might know how to treat.”
William’s face hardened. “You should have let me put a bullet in the bastard.”
Henry raised his shoulders in helpless frustration. “Yes, well, I would’ve liked to have done that back when we got Daisie out. Unfortunately the authorities like Hobbs because he keeps a lid on the turf warfare in the area and thereby makes those streets safer for the rich who like to play in them.”
William snorted in disgust. “Whores and politics.” He closed the door with a sharp click, underscoring his anger with the situation.
“Quite,” Henry muttered between clenched teeth.
Eliza watched the exchange with interest, noting there had been nothing of the usual master/servant attitudes in the way the two men talked to each other. She knew Daisie, a chambermaid in the house, and she knew Daisie was William’s girl, but what had this all to do with Hobbs? She was intrigued. “William hasn’t always been a footman, has he?”
Henry threw her a quick assessing look. “Indeed not, he was a rifleman in the same company as Daisie’s brother, Dix. I was helping with the organization of the supply lines from England to the Spanish front lines, and their company was assigned to me. When Dix found out his mother had died and Daisie was snatched by Hobbs to be put on the streets, he went half mad with grief, rage, and worry, and since I was on my way back home, I requested Dix as my escort. We came back here and got Daisie out.”
Eliza remembered what Hobbs had said about Henry. “So that’s why he said you owed him a pigeon: Daisie was one of his girls.” Eliza knew the cheerful chambermaid and shuddered at the thought of what she must have endured.
Henry nodded grimly. “She was barely sixteen, and in a bad way when we found her. She needed time to heal, to try to put the whole ordeal behind her, but had no skills and nowhere to go. Dix and I were under orders to return to Spain posthaste, so I engaged her in my household and left her in Mrs. Tibbit’s care.”
The realization she was not the first girl Henry had rescued and brought to his house further calmed Eliza, and Daisie’s plight distracted her from the horrors of the day.
“How did William come to be in your employ?”
Henry grinned at the memory. “William was injured on the march to Paris some time later and was sent back to England. Once he was able to walk again, he came to visit Daisie on Dix’s behalf and fell madly in love with her. The war was over by then and the army didn’t want him back, so he needed a job. And I needed a footman.”
The simplicity of his reasoning made Eliza smile. “You like helping people, don’t you?”
He smiled back. “I told you, I take care of my friends.”
Just then, Mrs. Tibbit bustled into the room with a tea tray in her hands. She set down the tray, poured for them both, and measured out some drops on a spoon for Eliza. “Here, love, from what William told us, you’ve got bruises again. Daisie will be here in a jiff and once you’ve had your tea, we’ll take you upstairs for a nice warm bath.”
Eliza took a deep breath and let out some of the tension in a sigh. Mrs. Tibbit’s motherly concern was exactly what she needed. The tea was comforting, but as much as she appreciated it and the warmth of the fire, she was impatient to go upstairs and rid herself of her unforgivingly chafing garments. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long before Daisie entered to announce her bath was ready. Then she inquired quietly, “Where did ’e ’urt ya, Miss Eliza?”
Eliza blushed again and answered in a hushed voice, “My breasts … he twisted the nipples.”
Daisie blanched. “Both of them?”
Eliza nodded, tears standing in her eyes again. Daisie took her hand and squeezed reassuringly. She sat herself down next to Eliza on the sofa, completely forgetting where she was and who else was in the room. “It’ll be all right, love.” She patted the younger girl’s hand and turned to Mrs. Tibbit. “Do we ’ave any green cabbage, ya know, the one with the smooth leaves?”
Mrs. Tibbit looked like she wanted to ask what the cabbage was for, but then thought better of it and turned to William who stood just inside the door, waiting to be of assistance. “William, see whether Cook has green cabbage.”
Daisie turned her attention to William. “I saw the ice man this mornin’. Tell ’er to take off two of the big leaves and chill ’em for ten minutes. It works better that way.”
They all looked at her for elaboration. Daisie looked embarrassed for a moment, then relented. “It’s a trick one of the girls learned of a midwife. There’s somethin’ in the leaf that stops the swellin’. The leaves are cool and soothin’, and when ya stick them on under yar corset, they stop the chafin’.” She blushed and looked at her feet. It was still hard to talk about that part of her past.
But when she looked up again and found William’s eyes, he gave her an encouraging nod and smiled. “Don’t you worry, Dais, I’ll bring them upstairs when they’re nice and cold.”
He left for the kitchen, and Mrs. Tibbit took charge of Eliza, ushering her and Daisie upstairs.
ONCE THE DOOR CLOSED BEHIND them all, Henry let out a heartfelt sigh and poured himself three fingers of scotch. He had made mistakes today, and they could have been disastrous for Eliza.
Good God, had he lost his edge?
He should’ve known Hobbs would sniff out an opportunity like this, and he had failed to anticipate it. Worse, he had arrogantly thought to draw out Wilkins so he could deal with him and then had left Eliza’s side.
In Spain, such carelessness and lack of foresight would have cost him the mission, if not his life.
And still Eliza thought him a hero. Him, a hero, what a joke. She was the truly brave one, and he would do his best to make sure she never suffered again.
However, they had all survived, and Eliza was shot of that clod Wilkins. At least he had managed to turn the situation around. Still, perhaps he should stick to managing his holdings from now on and start acting his age. Wasn’t that what his grandmother kept telling him?
He sank into the armchair by the fire and drained his glass. Letting his head roll back over the rounded edge of the backrest, he felt the tension drain out of his body.
Bloody hell, what a day. And tomorrow he would have to take the gray two-year-old to Avon and get into the Christmas spirit.
He looked forward to seeing Emily and Grossmama, but he didn’t think he could stomach the duchess’s annual twelve-night party. He would come back on Boxing Day and spend New Year’s with Eliza. It might be his last chance to enjoy her company before she got herself a position and they had to say their goodbyes.
He didn’t want her to leave. Quite the opposite, he wanted her in his bed, but he liked her too much to seduce her. She had been forced into enough situations of a similar nature already. If they were ever to be together as lovers, he wanted her to choose him, not give in to him.
WHILE HENRY WAS LOST IN his thoughts by the fire, Eliza, with her hair loosely coiled into a bun and pinned to the top of her head, was helped into a warm bath and sank into the rose-scented comfort with a grateful sigh. Above her head, Mrs. Tibbit and Daisie exchanged worried glances as they assessed the burgeoning bruises on Eliza’s arms and breasts.
Mrs. Tibbit gently lifted the arm that had, until two days ago, been kept in a sling, and examined a darkening bruise around Eliza’s upper arm. “This looks nasty, dear. How does the rest of the arm feel?”
Eliza opened her eyes and glanced at her abused limb. “It’s a good job he grabbed me up there; any lower and he might have broken it again.” She raised the other arm to study the matching bruise there, then rested back down against the curved lip of the bath and closed her eyes, the deep furrow between her brows evidence of how much pain she was in. “It aches, but it’ll be all right. I’m more worried about these.” She indicated her breasts, careful not to touch them. “They hurt like the devil.”
Daisie hugged her own breasts in an unconscious gesture of sympathy. “Let’s get ya washed and out of the bath so we can do some’ing for those as soon as Will gets ’ere with the leaves.”
Mrs. Tibbit, seeing Daisie had things well in hand, departed to see to dinner, promising to return with a tray for Eliza. Once the door pulled shut behind her, Eliza turned to Daisie to ask the question most urgently on her mind. “After Sir Henry rescued you, did Hobbs ever come after you again?”
Daisie met her eyes, and Eliza read sympathy and complete understanding in their depth. “I worried abou’ that for years, but ’e never did. I guess it’s like Will says: Hobbs is clever and brutal, but ’e don’t go out of ’is way for no one, not even if ya make ’im angry.”
Eliza thought about that for a moment. “So you think I’m safe?”
“As ’ouses! As long as ya don’t go walkin’ into ’is alley, that is.” Daisie saw the doubt in Eliza’s eyes and tried to explain. “Think abou’ it, ’e don’t care abou’ us, we’re just pigeons to ’im. He can get another one on the next corner and there’s no fuss; ’e don’t care, but ’e ain’t forgettin’ neither. You and I aren’t important enough for ’im to bother with. He’ll wait for Sir Henry to get ’is revenge.”
Yet another thing Eliza would owe Henry for. But at least she didn’t have to worry about Hobbs. Daisie’s assessment was right; Hobbs struck her as an opportunist rather than a dog-in-the-manger type. And his attitude toward women was such that he probably didn’t think them worth taking revenge on beyond what he’d already done to her.
So while she climbed out of the bath and Daisie helped her dry herself, it slowly but surely sank in that she was indeed free.
Horace had obviously lost interest the moment she had defied him by crawling out of the coal chute. After all, he had been paid, and that was all he cared about.
Wilkins had accepted money for her and signed a contract. And Hobbs was only interested in revenge on Sir Henry.
It was over. The nightmare that had started with her father’s death seven years ago was over. It had taken her mother’s death and her own willingness to die rather than submit to the fate others had arranged for her, but she was free.
Eliza reached for the locket still pinned to the shift she had been wearing earlier and wished with all her heart she could do something for her mother. But all she could think of was to wear the locket for her and to endeavor to live the best life she could. Turning to Daisie, she asked, “Could you find me a ribbon so I can wear this?”
Daisie was by the chest of drawers looking for a nightgown that could be laced tight in the back, but turned to admire the locket in Eliza’s hand. “Oh, that’s lovely.”
“My dad gave it to my mum a long time ago.”
Handing her the nightgown, Daisie took the wet towel out of Eliza’s hand. “The one that sold ya was yar stepdad, right? There’s ribbons in the top drawer.”
She slipped the nightgown over Eliza’s head and went back to the chest of drawers to select a thin, light blue ribbon. She secured the locket onto it and handed it to Eliza so she could tie it around her neck. Eliza smiled her thanks and turned to the mirror to see how it looked. It felt good to finally wear it out in the open.
A knock on the door heralded the arrival of the chilled cabbage leaves. The relief was immediate as the smooth, cool leaves molded onto her abused breasts to form a barrier against any chafing garments. After Daisie pulled the laces tight in the back of the nightgown to hold the cabbage leaves in place, Eliza sank into the chair by the fire and let the relief wash over her.
Thank God this day was over.
Thank God for Sir Henry, and for cabbage leaves.
THE NEXT MORNING, ELIZA HAD just been fitted with a fresh set of chilled cabbage leaves when Henry strolled into her room, followed by Mrs. Tibbit, who carried an enormous breakfast tray. He wore buckskin breeches and tall riding boots, and his brown wool waistcoat was buttoned up all the way, but he had yet to don a jacket.
“Mrs. Tibbit said you were up, so I thought we might break our fast together before I depart for Avon.”
Eliza smiled her welcome as he looped a companionable arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple.
“How are you this morning? I hear Daisie’s treatment is a success.”
Eliza let him lead her to the small table Mrs. Tibbit had pulled in front of the fireplace and was currently setting for two. “I have a whole new appreciation for cabbage, although I may have to don a corset today to hold the bloody stuff in place.” She frowned down at her breasts and gingerly moved the left cabbage leaf back up to where it did most good.
Henry’s lips twitched in amusement. “I’d offer to help, but somehow I don’t think you would appreciate the gesture.”
Eliza blushed, realizing what he was watching her do, but grinned back at him. It was lovely how he could see the amusing side of everything. It certainly was one of the reasons she liked his company so much. “Let’s sit and eat. The less I move, the better my chance these things will stay in place.”
Pulling out her chair for her, he seated her with genteel ceremony. “By all means! But tell me, how is your arm and how did you sleep?”
Eliza watched him sit and spread his napkin on his lap with a graceful economy of movement. Then he held the dish of eggs for her so she could serve herself.
“My arm aches, but it will be fine. And as for sleep? I had worried I would dream of the day’s events, but I slept like a newborn babe, and feel much restored for it.”
Henry handed her the cup of tea Mrs. Tibbit had poured for her. “I’m very glad to hear it. I have always found sleep to be the best medicine.” He reached for her hand and looked at her with a tenderness she longed to explore, now she knew she had a choice in the matter. “I have to go to see my daughter today, but I leave you in good hands, and I would not be leaving you here if I thought you were in any kind of danger. I want you to take this time to recuperate and get past all this. When I get back after Christmas, we will talk about what you want to do with your future.”
She turned her hand up to hold his and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m not sure a fortnight will be enough time to get over six years of misery, but I am eager to get on with my life.”
Her glib remark made Henry frown, so he added, “That’s not what I meant, silly.”
She shrugged, but he saw the pain in her eyes and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “You are welcome here for as long as you want to be here. I am certainly in no hurry to lose your company.”
She swallowed her tears and smiled again, wishing she could crawl into his arms and just stay there until she was brave enough to face the world on her own.
They chewed their eggs in silence for a few moments before Henry pointed to the locket on her neck. “You are wearing the locket. Will you tell me about it?”
Her hand came up to rub the engraved silver piece between her thumb and forefinger. “It was my mum’s. My dad gave it to her when he asked her to marry him, and she gave it to me just before she died. It’s the only thing I have left of them.”
“And you have been wearing it pinned to your undergarments so Horace couldn’t take it away from you.” He chuckled at her surprised look. “Mrs. Tibbit told me she found it pinned to your corset after I first brought you here, so it’s an easy assumption. I take it your wearing it openly now means you know in your heart this whole horrible muddle is truly over.”
Eliza nodded. “It occurred to me last night that Horace must have washed his hands of me as soon as he realized I was gone. Why else would Wilkins have teamed up with Hobbs to find me? I bet Horace told him to go to hell rather than pay him back. All he really wanted was to get rid of me anyhow.”
It was Henry’s turn to nod in agreement. “That’s the conclusion I came to. And I am quite certain Hobbs will not bother to come after you: it’s me he wants. But just to be on the safe side, I had William call in two of his old army chums to make sure you and Daisie are safe whilst I’m in the country. They are both good men. You can trust them.”
Eliza swallowed a fork full of eggs and sipped her tea before she looked up again. “Thank you for looking after me. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
Henry gave her hand one last squeeze before he let go to devote himself to his breakfast. She looked so young and vulnerable in her voluminous, quilted white dressing gown, and he longed to fold her into his arms. Of course he couldn’t, considering the reason for the cabbage leaves.