He referred to the old practice of freeclaiming, something caused by the shortage of women among the original colonies. In those days, any man could take an unprotected or abandoned woman from wherever he found her and with or without her permission put her into his household, where she would be subject to his will until such time as she married. No decent man wanted to take a freeclaimed woman to wife, however, so the abducted women were helpless to escape their captors. Fortunately, after the Uprising the Crown had discovered men keeping as many as two dozen freeclaimed women in their households. After hurriedly getting them married off, the authorities had promptly outlawed the polygamous practice.
“How romantic.” That killed my mood as effectively as an ice bath, and I pushed his hand away.
He caught my arm again as I tried to rise, his touch less gentle. “You are not leaving.”
“As you know, keeping women against their will is now illegal, Dredmore. So is slavery.” I reached for the remains of my chemise, examined it, and then tossed it aside. “Where the devil is my bodice?”
“It’s no longer safe for you in Rumsen.” He fastened his trousers and stood, scanning the ground around us. “I can only protect you from Walsh here at Morehaven.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong. Well, aside from the obvious.” I shook down my skirts, straightened my waister, and spotted my bodice hanging from a lilac bush. “Walsh can’t have me arrested for being criminally cheeky.”
“He won’t.” Dredmore retrieved my bodice and held it out of reach. “He’ll shut down your business, seize your property, and leave you penniless.”
“You forgot ruining my name,” I said as I grabbed at my bodice. “Come on, now, that’s not fair. You’re at least a foot taller than me.”
“Everything Walsh said and did tonight was only for show. There is something seriously wrong with the man.” Dredmore held out the bodice like a nurse dressing a child, and I let him help me into it. “He knows exactly why his wife is being assaulted, but he hasn’t put a stop to it for reasons I can’t fathom. But if you’re liable to stumble onto the truth, that makes you a liability he cannot afford.”
“I never stumble.” I turned my back on him so I could fasten my own buttons. “I investigate. The lady deserves to know why she’s being tormented like this, especially with Walsh threatening to divorce her.”
“Men in Walsh’s position do not take their wives to court.” He picked up his cloak and wrapped it around me. “They arrange an unfortunate accident and, after an appropriate period of mourning, they remarry.”
“She didn’t choose to marry him.” I saw his expression and lost my temper. “For God’s sake, Lucien. Diana Walsh is barely out of the schoolroom. She’s shallow and brainless, but she’s still an innocent person. Her people are all up near Settle. There’s no one else to look after her.”
He started walking me toward the gap in the stone wall. “You can’t help her, Charmian. She was doomed from the moment she knocked on your door.”
“Why don’t you kidnap her and bring her up here, then?” I strode ahead of him. “Walsh has her well trained. She’s lovely. Maybe you could teach her to enjoy it.”
“You’re going in the wrong direction,” he said, and waited until I came back to him. “Stay here with me, Charmian. It’s the only way I can keep you alive.”
Dredmore could be a deceptive, theatrical jackass, but he didn’t fear anything. Now he looked afraid . . . for me.
I considered what I could do to protect myself. “We’ll go to the police. The chief inspector is the grandson of an old friend of my family’s.”
“You no longer have family.”
“I did once, but . . .” I peered at him. “Why, you nosy sod. You had me investigated.”
“Several times,” he said without a shred of remorse. “All my men discovered was that you are an orphan without money, people, or connections.” His tone changed. “I assumed that it would make things simpler.”
“You mean, you thought you could carry me off and no one would give a bloody damn.” I was starting to hate him again, and as soon as we emerged from the maze, I turned on him. “All this talk of freeclaiming and kidnapping, as if I’m some prized cow instead of a person. How do you sleep at night?”
“I don’t.” He hauled me into his arms. “You’re going to change that.”
The kiss he gave me caused me to temporarily forget the various aches and pains afflicting me, and for a moment I allowed myself the luxury of imagining a life where I could have such kisses whenever I wanted them. Slipping into Dredmore’s arms every night, spending long hours rousing each other’s beasts and then falling asleep, boneless with exhaustion and saturated with contentment . . .
It would only cost me my independence, my heart, and every ounce of my self-respect.
“I did mention that I was leaving,” I said as soon as I was permitted to breathe again.
“Someday we’ll go to Paris, and I’ll introduce you to more Raphaels,” he told me. “But for now, you will remain here.” He looked past me and nodded.
I glanced back and saw Connell and another brute coming down from the pavilion, both focused on me. Which meant—“You can’t be serious. Not after what just happened between us. Lucien.”
“It’s for your own good, my sweet.” He handed me off to the men. To them, he said, “Lock her up.”
Will Deathmage Lucien Dredmore ever let Kit escape? Who sent the snuffmages after her—and whose side is Inspector Doyle on? And finally, what is the nefarious plot Lord Walsh is involved in—and how will Kit ever survive it?
To find out,
get Disenchanted & Co. Part 2: His Lordship Possessed now!
Acknowledgments
The only name on the cover of a book is the author’s, and sometimes I wish I could change that. It took nearly four years to make this novel happen, and while I’ve rarely worked as long or as hard to get something into print, with this one I never fought alone. Since I can’t give everyone who had my back a byline, I’ll offer them instead my gratitude: Tim Kim and all the wonderful folks at National Novel Writing Month and the Office of Letters and Light, who provided me with motivation for writing this story, and followed that up with unstinting support and enthusiasm. What you do for writers and kids all over the globe is nothing short of miraculous.
The readers of Paperback Writer, who cheered me on while I was working on the first draft, and all of my readers out there who have followed this journey with enthusiasm and encouragement. You are a constant joy and true blessing in my writing life.
New York Times bestselling authors Gail Carriger and Larissa Ione, whose generosity and kind words kept me going even when things fell apart completely. Ladies, I will never forget that.
New York Times bestselling author Darlene Ryan, who has been there for me in so many ways that it would take another three pages to list them all. Dust bunnies will never be safe again, and Bubba, you rock.
I wouldn’t be able to write anything without the support of my guy or our kids, but for this book they went above and beyond, and for four long years they never once complained. I love you, and you are my heart.
The art department and copyediting and production teams at Pocket Star, who have collectively done magical things for this novel. I know how lucky I am to have you, and I hope you all know how grateful I am, too.
There’s one more person whose name should be on the cover of this book, and I saved him for last because if I could I’d put it there in fifty-point font right now. For believing in me and this story, for fighting for it (twice), for restoring my faith in the creative partnership between publishers and authors, for being so damn good at what he does, and for giving me this marvelous opportunity to bring Disenchanted & Co. into our world, I’d like to thank my editor, Adam Wilson.