The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

“Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her.”

“I understand.” Oh, she understood in a way he could not comprehend. “I take it you had no luck finding her in Paris.”

“On the contrary, we discovered she was working as a governess for a wealthy merchant. The man’s wife recognised her instantly and confirmed that Estelle had lived with them for a year. But she packed her things and left the day Mackenzie encountered her in the street. I have reason to believe she boarded a ship to England, but the trail ends there.”

Lillian could hear the frustration in his voice, the anxiety that came from fear and uncertainty. “And you want Vane’s help to find her?”

Fabian took the miniature and glanced at the image of his sister. “Vane spent time with Estelle before she left Prescott Hall. I must know what they discussed. What happened between them to make her run away? In London, men fear your brother. No man is more equipped to find Estelle.”

Everything Fabian said made perfect sense. Vane commanded attention wherever he went. He had friends in high places, an equal amount of lowlife acquaintances occupying the backstreet dens and rookeries.

“And yet you say you’ve contacted him and he has refused to offer his assistance.” Of late, Vane appeared morose and withdrawn. He was drinking too much, struggled to sleep. Did the change in him stem from the sighting of Estelle?

“As requested, Vane sent his reply to the Eight Bells in Wapping. He refuses to believe my sister is alive and insists I leave him the hell alone.”

“I see.” Vane did not want to dwell on painful memories of the past. Who could blame him? “And so instead you sent the pock-faced man to scare me out of my wits. You spirited me away from home and brought me here to force my brother’s hand.”

Fabian frowned. “My men were under strict instructions to ensure no harm came to you. If they’ve—”

“They drugged me, Fabian.” The fruit punch contained some sort of sleep-inducing medicine so she would be more compliant. “You have harmed me in more ways than I can count. Heaven knows who saw them carry me to the rowboat. Because of your idiotic plan I cannot go home.”

Frustration made her heart race. What was she to do now? She clenched her fists and contemplated punching him hard in the chest. As if she’d not dealt with enough these last two years, God sought to punish her further.

“The solution to your problem is evident.” Fabian’s tone carried a hint of arrogance. “Marry me and live here.”

Damn him. If she were a man, they’d settle this dispute with pistols. “And that is what you offer for the trouble you’ve caused?”

“It is a damn sight more than Vane offered Estelle.”

Unable to control the sudden burst of anger, she lashed out, but Fabian caught her by the wrist.

“I know you so well I can predict your every move.” A mischievous glint flashed in his coal-black eyes. He held her so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “I know you chew the inside of your cheek when you’re nervous. I know the hitch in your voice when you’re lying.”

“You know the girl, not the woman.” Lillian’s breath came too quickly. Tragic events had changed her, and she would never be that carefree girl again. “I’m not the same person you remember.”

Fabian's gaze drifted over her face. “I think you are.”

Lillian almost chuckled. How could he claim to know her when she no longer recognised herself? “I’m tainted, ruined, a poor example to womankind.”

A growl rumbled in the back of his throat. “And I blame Vane for his lack of guidance.”

Oh, they were going around in circles. “You cannot blame Vane for everything.” Lillian pulled her arm free from Fabian’s grasp and stepped away. “Show me to my room. I’m tired. My head hurts, and I cannot think anymore.”

“As you wish.” Fabian gestured to the door situated a little further along the corridor. “You’re in the room next to mine. Come.” He strode past her, opened the door and disappeared inside.

With some hesitance, she followed him. Upon entering, her gaze moved to the four-poster bed with gold curtains, to the low beam ceiling and the wrought iron chandelier. Someone had been in to light the fire in the stone hearth and to turn down the plush coverlet on the bed.

The medieval-inspired room made Lillian feel as though she’d stepped back in time. This enchanting castle was so far removed from the ugly world she knew. One could lose themselves in the romantic idea of knights and damsels, of gallant gentlemen who knew how to treat a lady.

“The room has been cleaned and aired in preparation for your arrival.” Fabian strode over to the oak bookcase. “I assume you read. The books may not be to your taste, but speak to Mackenzie, and he’ll purchase whatever you need. If you’d like a frame and threads, I can have them sent from the mainland, too. The few female servants who work here only possess the tools to darn stockings.”

She glanced at the door connecting her chamber to Fabian’s suite. “Are you keeping me close because you fear I might run away?”

He brushed his hands through his hair, brushing it back off his shoulders, and the beginnings of a smile touched his lips. “I’m keeping you close for a variety of reasons.”

The heat in his tone made her cheeks flame. Surely he didn’t expect her to share his bed. “You said if we married I would be free to make my own decisions.”

“Yes.”