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Chapter Eighteen
A commotion in the hall roused Kitty from her fitful slumber. She heard the sound of something being dragged along the hall and then a bodily smack on her door. A string of low curses sounded, the speaker’s rough accent so thick that she could barely understand the words.
“What in the world?” Kitty muttered to herself. She sat up in bed and was just about to cautiously slide her legs from beneath the counterpane when the door crashed open. She fell back onto her bed with a shriek as the door smacked into the wall and a man was unceremoniously tossed into the room by who she was briefly able to identify as two of her burliest footmen. The man landed on his knees but whipped back around with a growl, charging the door as it slammed back shut and once more bathed the room in darkness before she could get a good look at him. The lock of the door clicked, leaving her tapped with this unwilling interloper.
“Oi! Lemme out, ye bloody fucking bitch,” the man snarled, slamming his fist into the heavy oak door.
Even with the guttural, low-born drawl of his speech, Kitty recognized the voice. “Mr. Barrow?”
The shadow turned towards her. “Yer—” A cough. “Your Grace? Is that you?” Barrow asked, his voice returned to perfect refinement.
“Hold on a moment,” she said, jumping out of bed and feeling around her side table for a candle to light. After achieving her aim, Kitty held the lit candle aloft, Arthur Barrow’s confused face illuminated by the dim light. His blonde hair was tussled, a small trickle of blood from his forehead drawing precariously close to his grey eyes. “My goodness, you’re hurt! What happened?”
“Hell if I know,” he replied irritably, producing a handkerchief from his pocket. “I was on my way in from a smoke and got cornered in the alleyway by those burly bastards. Someone came up from behind and clubbed me over the head before I could whip my knife out. Next thing I knew, I was being thrown in here while that nasty mother-in-law of yours grinned like a madwoman at me.”
“Why in the world...?” Kitty froze, remembering the sordid accusation that the woman had hurled forth during her first dinner at Haverston House. The pieces began to fit together, the dowager’s plan becoming horrifyingly clear. “I think she means for Sebastian to find you in here with me.”
“What?” Barrow replied in befuddlement.
“This is my bedchamber,” she supplied.
“Oh, for the love of Christ, you cannot be serious?” He smacked the handkerchief over his wounded head. “This is about that silly rumor of us Sebastian told me about, isn’t it? I was wondering why I’d never heard a whisper of it.”
“Do you think she made up it’s existence in order to give Sebastian some doubts beforehand?”
“In all likelihood. I suppose she thinks he’ll come to the wrong conclusion and sue you for a divorce. Apparently, the massive scandal of such a move is overshadowed by her hatred of this union. What a bizarre woman.”
The thought sent a spark of horror through her, one she was very easily able to suppress. “He trusts me, and I trust in our love for each other.”
“That’s good to hear, though from the very messy way she attempted this stupid scheme, he is probably already aware of what has transpired.” Barrow winced as he pressed his reddening handkerchief into his wound.
“That needs taken care of,” Kitty observed with a worried glance at him.
“It’s certainly not the worst injury I’ve suffered.” He grinned at her proudly, looking more like a wild beast then the gentleman he acted as. “I was shot once, you know.”
“Fascinating. You’ll have to tell me about it when you aren’t locked in my bedchamber by my witless mother-in-law.”
“I’ll be sure to do so.” Barrow swayed a bit on his feet. “If you could bring the washbasin over, that would be lovely. I’ll see about getting the fireplace going so we have some light in this cavernous maw you call a bedroom, and we can wait for your husband and Amberwood to come heroically charging in.”
Kitty nearly laughed despite their precarious position and moved to do as he bade. She could only hope they wouldn’t be left waiting for long.
**
Amberwood was laughing hysterically whilst their carriage all but galloped through the streets of London on the way to Haverston House. “This is the most hilarious kidnapping I’ve ever seen. Barrow must be pissed beyond reason at the moment. Who would have thought the old bat had it in her to execute such a ridiculous plot.”
Sebastian was in a far less jovial mood, all but glowering from his place opposite. “I find none of this even remotely amusing. Kitty must be in hysterics right now.”
“Do you think she locked them in a room together? No, she definitely did. As if you would believe Barrow was tupping your wife. This is the most maudlin of silliness.”
He couldn’t help but agree on that front, even if he found the situation far less humorous than Amberwood. His only solace was that Barrow was with her and would likely have the situation well in hand as best he was able. Kitty was no pushover herself, either. Sebastian could only hope his duchess trusted him enough not to think the plot had any chance of succeeding. “It’s beyond the pale.”
“I am relieved that he wasn’t taken by someone more dangerous, though,” Amberwood said, his mirth calming somewhat. “I can send a note round to Sophie once we arrive, if you like. I’m sure Her Grace will find my wife’s presence soothing during the unholy hell that you are about to unleash on the dowager.”
“Please, do.” His mother was in for a reckoning, and he was sure that they would wind up in a screaming match before the night was out. The carriage lurched to a jarring stop and he all but threw himself out of it and stormed up the stairs. As he’d half expected, his mother was waiting for him in the foyer the moment he entered the door, a grim-faced Mrs. Needly standing at attention beside her. Sebastian was relieved it seemed to be her and not Penbry who’d acted as his mother’s accomplice. Noting the butler’s disdain for the housekeeper, he was sure the man would take great pleasure in sacking her along with anyone else involved.
“Ashford, I’m relieved you have arrived early. Mrs. Needly has discovered a…situation involving your duchess.”
“A situation?” Amberwood stopped behind him with a dramatic flourish. “Do tell, madam.”
