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Suddenly, the door was pulled open, and she tumbled forward.
Right into Driscoll’s arms.
20
Driscoll held Amelia in his arms and pressed her head against his chest as she sobbed her heart out and mumbled words he could not understand, clinging tightly to him.
“Shh. It’s all right, sweetheart. You must quiet yourself. We have to get you out of here without anyone knowing.”
She pulled away and nodded, accepting the handkerchief he handed her. Gripping her shoulders, he leaned back and looked at her as she wiped her wet cheeks. Face paint had been applied to her lovely visage, and her glorious hair hung down almost to her waist. His eyes lowered to see her garbed in a night dress and dressing gown. Both skimpy and both causing his stomach to clench with enough rage to find her brother downstairs and beat the living hell out of him.
Instead, he had to get Amelia away. As quickly as possible. He could never take on all the men drinking, laughing and generally raising hell downstairs. From what he’d seen when he entered the house—the door no longer being guarded as it had been earlier—Randolph would be upstairs any minute to drag Amelia to the auction before everyone got too drunk to bid.
“Do you know how to access the back stairs?” There didn’t seem to be any reason to lower his voice since he would never be heard downstairs.
Still gulping for air, she nodded.
“Good.” He stood and removed his jacket, covering her with it. He took her hand and helped her up. “Come. We must leave quickly.”
Although he and his two brothers all carried pistols, he preferred not to be forced to shoot his way out of the house.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Amelia clung to his hand as she led him down the corridor. Once they reached the door to the back staircase, heavy footsteps sounded from the other end of the corridor. Randolph and his cohorts were coming for her. He broke into a sweat thinking how close he’d come to arriving too late.
“Hurry.” He moved in front of her and all but dragged her down the stairs. Since the door to her bedchamber was no longer locked, it wouldn’t take the men long to discover Amelia gone.
They stepped out into the night air and Dante strode up to them.
“We have to get out of here. They will have just learned that Amelia is gone.” With a swoop of his arms, Driscoll picked Amelia up and crushing her to his chest, they ran for the carriage.
A roar broke out behind them from the front door just as they reached the vehicle. Hunt opened the door, and Driscoll all but threw Amelia inside. Once the three men entered the carriage and slammed the door, the vehicle took off, disappearing into the misty night, leaving the angry shouts behind them.
Amelia sat huddled in the corner, tugging the flaps of his jacket together. Although she shivered, he was reluctant to pull her against him to create warmth, not yet sure of her frame of mind. It was a short ride from Newton’s house to Hunt’s townhouse, so he would wait and give her time.
It had been decided that the most obvious place for Newton to come to demand the return of Amelia would be The Rose Room. Bringing Amelia to Hunt’s house also prevented any scandal from erupting since with Lady Huntington present, there would be no question about Amelia’s reputation being ruined.
The carriage came to a rolling stop in front of Huntington Townhouse. Hunt stepped out, then Dante. They both headed up the steps. Driscoll turned to Amelia, pushing her abundance of hair behind her ear. “Are you ready to leave?”
She nodded, her eyes as they met his filled with tears. “They were going to auction me off.”
“I know, sweetheart. If you wish to discuss it later, we can.” He extended his hand. “Come. For now, let’s go inside where it is warmer.”
He stepped down, turned and took her ice-cold hand in his. Since she was barefooted, he once again carried her up the steps and into the house. Diana stood in the entrance hall, anxiety written on her face. She held her arms out. “Oh, my dear.”
Amelia walked straight into Diana’s embrace, as if they were long-lost best friends. Apparently even a previously unknown woman was comforting to a woman in Amelia’s state.
Diana looked over Amelia’s shoulder. “I will bring her upstairs and find something for her to wear. We will meet you in the drawing room.”
Driscoll reluctantly nodded and allowed Diana to take Amelia away from him. He watched them ascend the stairs, Amelia’s head resting on Diana’s shoulder. He understood that she needed the comfort of a woman right now, but he was not going to wait overlong to make his intentions known. No one would ever touch her again.
Once he had Amelia’s consent, he would send for a special license, visit with Newton to demand his approval of the match, and visit the nearest vicar. Amelia would never have to worry about taking care of herself for the rest of her life. She would be his and damn anyone who tried to do her harm.
His lips tightened as he turned to join his brothers in the drawing room. He would very much enjoy visiting Newton tomorrow when the cad was feeling the result of his overindulgence, and perhaps the wrath heaped upon him by the thwarted men he’d invited to the auction. He hoped to add significantly to the man’s misery.
* * *
Amelia turned and looked at the woman who had brought her upstairs. She remembered seeing her briefly when the earl made a quick visit to the club one evening when Lady Huntington was heavy with child. Amelia had been dealing at the time and didn’t get to meet her.
“Amelia—can I call you Amelia?” Lady Huntington said in a soft soothing tone.
