Page 7 of Marriage Most Scandalous
Ten minutes later, the last guard to be bound presented his wrists and one of the cut strips to Leopold, there being no one else left to do the honors. Sebastian loosened his hold on the duke slightly, so he could accommodate the fellow. There were several long moments while Leopold decided whether he should or not, but in the end, he did.
With that done, Sebastian told the tyrant, “You, I’ll give a choice. I can smash your head against the wall to put you out for a while, tie you up with the rest, or I could just break your neck, to assure I’ve seen the last of you. Which shall it be?”
“You’ll never get out of here alive,” the duke spat back.
“Never mind, I’ll choose.” Sebastian moved closer to the wall.
“No!” the duke exclaimed.
Sebastian wasn’t going to give the man a reason to come after him again. He merely dragged him over to the cot, forced him facedown on it, and wrapped up his wrists with the remnants of the cut-up shirt.
“There’s a man like me in Vienna at the moment looking for work, a chap I’ve crossed paths with from time to time. Name of Colbridge. And that’s the extent of my ‘sympathy’ help, more’n you deserve.”
Sebastian checked all the bindings before he left the cell and locked it. He almost laughed when he found the last fellow, whom the duke had tied up, with loose bonds. A few minutes later, he was letting John and Timothy out of their cells.
“Did you kill him?” John asked as they hurried out of the dungeon. One guard at the top of the stone stairs had to be punched unconscious.
“No,” Sebastian said, rubbing the fist he’d just used. “I probably should have, though, just to save a lot of people a lot of grief.”
“You don’t think he’ll try to retrieve us, then?”
“No. I’m not the only one available for such work. He knows that now. In fact, I steered him to Colbridge, that incompetent fellow in Vienna who should have no trouble failing. Baum was determined to hire me merely because I was already here and could have started immediately—if I’d been willing to work for him. I actually hope his wife continues to elude him. I have the feeling he’d rather kill her than go through the bother of a divorce.”
Chapter 3
AKITCHEN WASN’T A BAD PLACE TO LIVE. It contained pleasant aromas—usually—and warmth to counter the chill of old stone. Deep in the heart of the keep’s ruins, it was the only room that Sebastian had refurbished. The old armory, located on the eastern side of the ruins, had been paneled, furnished, and divided into three rooms that served as bedrooms.
They had been back in France for almost a week. Mme. LeCarré, the mother of the farmer who lived down the road, came each day to make their meals. They kept no servants other than old Maurice, the caretaker, who lived in the only intact guard tower that was still attached to the crumbling outer walls. They had tried hiring a maid a few years back to tidy up their rooms, but they couldn’t get one to stay more than a week or two. The local women simply had an aversion to working in a pile of old stones.
John had been spending most of his time in the conservatory since their return. He’d built it himself. His flowers had gone to seed as usual while he was away. Maurice refused to tend the flowers while John was gone and had to be bribed to at least keep the braziers burning during winter so the flowers didn’t all die. Many died anyway from neglect.
Since he had joined them, Timothy had taken over the task of caring for the horses, which were kept in the old great hall. A small portion of it still retained a bit of ceiling, enough to shelter the horses from rain and snow. Timothy didn’t like the ruins and was always somewhat gloomy while they were in residence there. Today he was pouting, having failed, once again, to draw Sebastian’s attention for more than a moment.
A threat to Timothy’s life might have moved Sebastian to action in Austria, but ironically, the boy meant nothing to him. John had grown fond of him, but Sebastian barely noticed Timothy when he was around. Nonetheless, he’d chosen to be responsible for him, and he took responsibility seriously. Which meant the boy couldn’t come to harm while he lived under his protection. What had happened in Austria he’d seen as a failure of his responsibility, which harkened back to the sense of familial duty that had been instilled in him in his youth.
John viewed his relationships from a simpler perspective. He came from a small family with no siblings, just him and his father. His father had been a butler for the Wemyss family for many years, had groomed him in the same line of service, though John preferred a more personal level of commitment. Actually, he simply didn’t like the high responsibility and authority of the butler position.
The Wemyss family was very closely associated with the Townshends. The eldest sons of each family had been the best of friends, their fathers were the best of friends. And as servants will talk, John was one of the first to know when Sebastian lost his valet and he jumped at the opportunity to take his place. He never dreamed that choice would lead to such adventure, but he didn’t regret it for a minute.
He had enjoyed working at the Townshend estate, had been there for a little more than a year when Sebastian left England. He wasn’t asked to go into exile with him, he volunteered. He’d formed an attachment to the young lord, thought of him as family, and couldn’t bear for him to go off with no one to care for him properly.
But truth be known, John thrived in his second line of work, derived immense satisfaction from it, and had fallen into it almost naturally. He simply had a way with people, of getting them to open up and reveal things that weren’t common knowledge. He wished he’d put that talent to work in Felburg before they’d been incarcerated in that dungeon. But they hadn’t planned to be there more than one night, so he’d taken the opportunity to rest instead. His mistake.
They’d done some hard, fast riding, escaping from that area. “I really don’t think he’ll send anyone after us, but I don’t want to be tempted to go back to make sure of that,” had been Sebastian’s last words on the matter.
John was more pragmatic. “We could have just saved ourselves the trouble of making a new enemy and losing a country of opportunity—we won’t be able to return to Austria now—by accepting the job. You probably could have gotten triple your normal fee from him.”
“Go to England? No.”
John had expected the curt reply. It had been worth a try. Not once, in all these years, had Sebastian been tempted to return to England, not even to find out how his father and younger brother fared, if they were even still alive. When his family had disowned him, Sebastian had disowned them.
Timothy was late for luncheon today. The two men didn’t wait for him.
“Shall we do a little refurbishing while we’re in residence this time?” John asked as soon as Mme. LeCarré left to return to her home.
Sebastian raised a brow. “Why do you ask that every time we’re here?”
“Well, sir, this is a large property, yet only the kitchen and bedrooms are up to scratch.”
