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His smile faded. He made a gesture with his hand and a manservant appeared, seemingly from thin air. Where had the hulking fellow been hiding?
“This is my man, Masterson,” said Haddock. “Masterson, Miss Perkins is going to take a ride in my carriage. Please escort her outside.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” protested Mari, truly worried now.
“Don’t make a scene, Miss Perkins.” Haddock brushed a speck of dirt from his white gloves. “Who would come to your aid? I happen to be a very generous benefactor of this museum.”
How stupid could she have been? Earls didn’t just invite governesses out for tea. She’d been so focused on finding clues about her past that she’d knowingly walked into a trap.
Yet, they were still in public. Several gentlemen and ladies were perusing the marbles.
Outside, on the busy street, there would be people milling about. Constables at hand.
She had to find a way to quit the earl without arousing undue attention. She was still worried about encountering Mrs. Trilby. And she certainly had no wish to be questioned by any authorities.
Should she make a run for it in here, or on the street?
Masterson gripped her elbow even tighter than Haddock had, and began to half drag her toward the entrance.
She began forming a desperate plan. She’d allow Masterson to lead her outside and then she’d jab him with her umbrella and dart away.
Haddock followed closely behind them down the stone steps and onto the street. “My carriage, Miss Perkins,” he said, indicating an enormous coach and four.
“I’ve already told you. I’m not going anywhere with you.” She attempted to pull her elbow out of his servant’s grip. “And I’ll thank your manservant to release me.”
His face darkened. “You’re Banksford’s mistress, is that it? Believe me, you’re meant for better things than being a governess. Why slog away caring for those brats when you could be set up in apartments of your own in Mayfair?”
“You mistake me, sir.”
“You’re an obscure little governess. You’ll do as I say.”
“And you’re a rude, insinuating lecher.”
Masterson dragged her toward the carriage.
“I’ll scream,” Mari said.
“I don’t think you will,” said Haddock, dropping all pretense of civility. “I have a suspicion that you don’t want attention called to you. That you wouldn’t want my word to be held up against yours. You know your place, don’t you, Miss Perkins. You’ll be a quiet, good girl.”
Mari’s heart pounded with fear and her palms dampened. Didn’t the people on the street see what was happening before their eyes? If he got her into that carriage... her stomach lurched.
She couldn’t think about that. About the manservant holding her down for his despicable master. How many other meek, defenseless girls had he tried this with?
It made her sick. She would start screaming before she allowed herself to be forced into that carriage. But she wasn’t meek and defenseless.
He might think she was, but she wasn’t.
She most certainly didnotknow her place.
Not anymore.
She was through with hiding her strength.
The most vulnerable part of the male body was his bollocks, that much she knew from talking to girls at the orphanage. Tightening her grip on her umbrella, she waited for the opportune moment to strike.
Masterson released her arm to open the carriage door.
“I won’t be a good, quiet girl,” she yelled, darting toward the earl with her umbrella poised to strike.
