Page 9 of Only Pleasure Will Do

Chapter 3

Swallowing hard, Amorina fought to maintain control. She fisted her hands and breathed in and out slowly. If she couldn’t control her emotions, she couldn’t hope to think clearly enough to escape Redmond’s clutches.

Fear of Tommy Redmond’s reprisal had receded in the months after his wounding by the Marchioness of Dalbury. For a time, she’d hoped he would simply die of his wounds and make an end to the terror he’d caused, but she’d heard nothing among the London gossips to suggest that had come to pass. Still, it had been easy to relax her guard as time went by and no word about him had surfaced. She should’ve known better than to believe he would let her go without punishment for her part in aiding the marchioness.

“So you believe my kidnapper is Mr. Redmond?”

“I do now.” Sir Reginald stalked over to the wall and gazed up at the high windows before looking around the room. He removed his cloak and gray dress coat and tossed them onto the bannister. Then, to her astonishment, he rolled up his sleeves. “Help me with that table, please.”

“I’ve tried that before.” Amorina shook her head, more than a little distracted by his sudden undress, but gamely grasped one end of the table and lifted. “The table isn’t tall enough and if you stand on the bucket, it topples you to the floor.” Putting the table down next to the wall, she watched him step up onto it, completely disregarding her words. She rubbed her shoulder where it still ached from her fall but said nothing else. Some people had to make their own mistakes.

Even after clambering onto the table, Sir Reginald remained at least two feet beneath the window ledge. He’d need to stand on the bucket as she had, although she could at least keep it from tipping over. She opened her mouth to suggest this when, without warning, he jumped nimbly and grabbed the ledge, pulling himself up by sheer arm strength.

Amorina couldn’t quite stifle her gasp. The man was like a cat, the long, lean muscles of his tensed back visible through his fine linen shirt, his arms bulging with the strain of holding himself up. Blood pounded in her ears as she feasted on the delicious sight of him. She’d not appreciated the body of a man in a very long time.

Sir Reginald hoisted himself up and put an arm on the ledge to hold him steady while he studied the window. After a few moments, he muttered a curse and dropped back onto the table. It creaked from the impact, and Amorina cringed, expecting him to continue through it to the floor. Miraculously, he balanced a moment then jumped down, a deep scowl marring his otherwise attractive face.

“What’s wrong?” Amorina dragged the table back to the center of the room to give herself something to do rather than just stare at him hungrily.

“Upon closer inspection, the window proves too narrow for either of us to crawl through.” He unrolled his sleeves in short, precise movements, covering those extraordinarily well-muscled arms. “I will check the door again to see if the hinges can be made to pop off.”

“Such a thing is possible?” Amorina wished she’d known that. She might’ve been out of this wretched prison and back in London by now. Of course, then she would not have had the pleasure of seeing Sir Reginald’s sleek physique in action. Still, her freedom would’ve been worth the loss.

“In some cases, yes. Half-pin barrel hinges, for one. With the right leverage and application of force, the door will lift free.” He pulled his coat on and hurried back up the stairs.

“You do have a wealth of information, Sir Reginald.” Climbing directly behind him, Amorina slowed and gained a very good look at his strong legs as they were now almost at her eye level. She struggled to contain what would’ve been deemed a lecherous smile.

“In my profession, I’ve come upon many bits of valuable information I’ve managed to file away. One never knows when one will have a need for it.”

By the time she joined him in front of the door, he had his hands on the hinges, and was frowning again.

“Are these not half-pin barrel hinges, then?” She studied the large, wrought iron plates fastened to the edge of the door.

“Strap hinges. They would have to be taken off completely. Unfortunately, I have no tools to do so.” He rattled the door handle and grimaced. “A Norfolk latch. Not a lock I can pick with just a knife, and whoever’s on the other side has fixed it to be immoveable.”

“So we are truly prisoners, then?” Dejection set in, chilling her to the bone. She’d been so hopeful. Sir Reginald had seemed so capable. She wrapped her arms around her body, the only comfort she could give herself.

“For the meantime, it would seem so.” He made one more study of the door then trotted down the steps and commenced looking closely at the walls. “You’ve been here how long?”

“Fifteen days today.” She pointed to her gouges in the table’s wood. “I made a mark as best I could each night when I went to bed.”

“Excellent.” His praise, slight thought it was, warmed her. “It’s always an advantage to know how long one has been held captive. Knowledge is another weapon at your disposal.”

“I fear I have very few weapons then, Sir Reginald.” Reluctantly, she brought her gaze up to his smoky eyes. “Knowledge that my abductor is Tommy Redmond is one.” She swallowed then straightened her shoulders. “You’re quite certain he is responsible for my disappearance?”

“If he is not, I will be extraordinarily surprised.” He continued to walk around the room, occasionally touching the brick walls, now and then bending over and scraping at the dirt floor near where it joined the wall. “Besides your current customers, he’s the next most likely person to wish you harm.” Sir Reginald glanced at her. “He wasn’t an easy man to track down. The servants at his father’s town residence would give me no information, save that he was ‘from home.’ I then used my Bow Street contacts to discover his father’s other properties. Two of those proved just as fruitless. Then I traveled to this estate, Abbott’s Priory, near Dartford in Kent. And here I found him.”

“Kent! I’ve been taken to Kent?” In her mind, the distance isolated her, as though an estate closer to the city would’ve made her safer or able to fend for herself should she get free. At least she had someone fighting with her now. And that someone was one of the most capable men in London.

“Yes. My interview with Redmond was brief and unsatisfactory. He denied ever seeing you after his remove from London last August. Of course, I didn’t believe his story but was shown rather unceremoniously from the house. I returned to the property in the middle of the night in hopes Redmond wouldn’t be expecting me. Apparently, he, or someone in his employ, was.” Sir Reginald stopped pacing and swung back around to face her. “Do you know at what time your jailors come to attend to you?”

Still digesting the disturbing piece of information regarding Redmond, Amorina nodded. “They come at first light to take away the slop bucket and give me food and a few small sticks for the fireplace. Then, in the afternoon well before sunset, someone returns and only leaves food.”

After pulling out a small notebook and pencil, Matthews proceeded to write down her exact words in meticulous lettering. “Good. Can you remember anything else about these jailors? How many there are? Are they the same people every day? Are they servants or of another class? Anything you can remember may be of use.”

Narrowing her eyes, Amorina set her hands on her hips and glared at Sir Reginald. She would not be treated as a child or as some men treated their wives, as though they had not a grain of intelligence in their heads. “Each morning, Lucy, an upstairs maid, and Samuel, a groom, have brought out the food and emptied the slops. Samuel brandishes a gun while Lucy attends to the rest.”

After the first two days, when Amorina had actively tried to escape through the door as soon as it opened—and gotten a good cuffing from Samuel for her efforts—they’d worked out a routine of sorts. Amorina brought the slop bucket to the door then retreated three steps down the staircase. Lucy would switch the used bucket with a clean one then set the tray with her day’s food on the ground inside the door.