The Artist and the Rake (The Merry Misfits of Bath 4)

One thing was certain. She was going to Mrs. O’Leary’s house to demand her paintings. It would be best if she did not make that visit alone because she feared it might result in her landing in prison for murder. Perhaps Mr. Mallory would consent to help her.

Drawing her knees up, she rested her chin and thought about Mr. Mallory and Mr. Smith. They were both outstanding gentlemen. They risked their own lives to save her, and all she did for thanks was withdraw into herself and cause pain to Mr. Mallory’s middle when he caught her after Pamela hugged her so tightly.

She’d refused his arm to climb the steps, did not take any of the sherry offered and shortly after arriving she’d asked to be allowed to retire for the night. It had certainly appeared that she was an ungrateful chit.

If someone asked her how she felt about her ordeal she could honestly say she didn’t know. While she was being subjected to the worse nightmare in her life, she’d been given small doses of laudanum and saved herself by shutting everything down. No feeling, no thoughts, no questions.

She had moved as if in a dream and went through the motions. It was the only way she knew to survive.

“Lizbeth, M-Mr. Mallory is h-here to see y-you.” Pamela knocked softly and then entered her room, a warm smile on her face. How Lizbeth was ever lucky enough to be befriended by this lovely woman would always remain a mystery.

In short, Lady Pamela Manning had saved her life.

“To see me?”

Pamela walked across the room to the window seat and reached her hand out. “Y-yes. I think it’s about r-returning to B-bath.”

Lizbeth nodded and stood. “Thank you. I will be happy to leave London and never see it again.”

Pamela placed her arm around Lizbeth’s shoulders. “I un-understand completely.”

When they arrived in the drawing room, Mr. Mallory was pacing the floor. The man seemed to always be in motion. Even the night of her rescue, he’d paced while they spoke briefly before Lizbeth had asked to be excused.

“Good afternoon, Miss Davenport.” He made his way over to her and offered a slight bow.

“The same to you, Mr. Mallory.” She looked around, but Pamela had left them alone. “Won’t you have a seat?”

“Thank you.” He sat on the settee, resting his booted foot on his knee. She sat on a chair across from him. That was as close as she intended to get. She cleared her throat, hoping he would stop staring at her and go on with whatever it was he came for. Then she realized that calling on someone generally involved refreshments of some sort.

“I apologize, Mr. Mallory, may I offer you tea?”

He shook his head “No. Thank you, though. I know it’s probably sacrilegious for an Englishman, but I don’t particularly care for tea.”

Her brows rose. “No tea?”

He grinned and shook his head. “No. Not a favorite of mine. I prefer coffee. Or brandy.”

Lizbeth found herself grinning back. He was an easy man to talk to. Not that she intended to have conversations with men. She’d had enough of men for the rest of her life, thank you very much.

Mr. Mallory straightened in his seat and drew out a paper from his jacket pocket. “I received this from my sister, Lady Berkshire, today.”

He held out the missive and she took it.

Dearest Brother,

Lord Berkshire and I would be happy to have Miss Lizbeth Davenport stay with us. I have never had the pleasure of meeting Lady Pamela’s friend, but

look forward to doing so.

Love, Your Sister, Addie

Lisbeth refolded the note and handed it back to him. “Your sister is very kind.” She straightened in her chair. “However, I insist on paying my way. I may have a difficult time finding employment since I was unjustly dismissed from my last job, but I will work out something with Lady Berkshire until then. In Mrs. O’Leary’s house, I did maid’s work.”

“You will not work as a maid in my sister’s house! You will be a guest.” After a slight hesitation, he said, “If it doesn’t distress you too much, may I inquire as to how you ended up taken from your boarding house?” He hurried on. “The reason I ask is I am working on a bill that I hope to have passed in the House of Commons, like the House of Lords did, dealing with the kidnapping of children and women for nefarious purposes.”

Lizbeth studied him for a moment. She had decided while she was in captivity that when she found a way to escape—and she had fully intended to do that even if she had to cause someone’s harm or death—she would find out exactly what the events were that led to her kidnapping.

She had a pretty good idea where it all started, but would she share her thoughts with this man? He seemed to be of a caring nature, and he did take part in her rescue. She gave him a brief nod. “I lost my job because a stolen brooch was found in my reticule that I did not put there.”