Page 28 of Benefactor to the Baroness (The Seductive Sleuths #3)

F ontaine slid out of Rosemary’s arms. As much as she wanted to cuddle and forget everything that had happened over the past few days, there was something she had to do, and she suspected Rosemary would disapprove.

She tiptoed through the room, donning her clothing piece by piece. Her hair was a hopeless mess, so she tied it up as best she could and shoved it beneath a bonnet. She would have a maid sort it out when she returned.

A candleholder sat on her writing desk. She picked it up and exited the room on soft feet, closing the door behind her so slowly that it did not creak. Then she pulled a match out of her pocket and lit the candle. The narrow hallway stretched long in front of her, disappearing into a dark void. The only sounds in the house were the occasional creak above her and the tick of a clock somewhere in the distance.

When she reached the library, the door was partially open. A gentle glow emanated from inside. As she had expected, Mr. Prue was still awake. He kept unusually late hours, sleeping well past breakfast. She had imagined that might have been to her benefit, when she had considered becoming his wife. It would have allowed her to accomplish her tasks while leaving as little time as possible for them to be alone.

She pushed the door open. Mr. Prue sat on a chair with a leatherbound book in his hands. As she entered, he lowered the book.

“Lady Kerry. It is late for you to be about.”

She closed the door behind her. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

Mr. Prue gently set his book on the table beside him. “Come, let us discuss.”

She ground her back teeth together. “Did you hear what I said?”

Mr. Prue folded his hands in his lap. “Of course.”

“I know that you have been corresponding with Mr. Blake,” she said. “You’re not just profiting from the exploitation of orphans. You’re taking children, both here and in London.”

Mr. Prue removed a pipe and a small bag from the drawer of the desk beside him. “That is correct.”

She stared as he prepared his pipe, shoving a wad of tobacco into the flared end of the smooth pipe before lighting a match to set it smoking.

“You admit it, then?” Fontaine asked.

Mr. Prue puffed on his cigar several times before answering. “I suspected you might discover what I have been doing.” He blew out a large cloud of smoke. “What do you intend to do now?”

She shuffled her feet to keep from stomping. The man was infuriating. “I will not be the wife of a man in the business of kidnapping children.”

“I rather think you will,” Mr. Prue said. Then he rose from his seat and walked over to the long cord in the corner of the room. He tugged it once before returning to his seat. He had barely resumed his position when the door behind Fontaine opened, and Mrs. Feather stepped inside.

“Is there something you require, sir?” she asked.

“Bring the children,” Mr. Prue said.

Fontaine clenched her hands. This conversation was not going the way she had expected. Rather than balk or shout at her, Mr. Prue acted as if this had been his plan all along.

“I intended to let them go after we married,” Mr. Prue said. “But you have left me no choice.”

The door creaked open again, and Mrs. Feather returned, clasping a red-faced Peter’s upper arm in her grip. Annie stood beside the housekeeper, holding Quinn in a similar manner, although the look on Quinn’s face suggested he had not been handled as roughly as his brother.

That meant Annie had yet to be discovered.

Fontaine carefully avoided her gaze. While Annie remained undetected, there was a chance she could help them.

“These boys must be quite important to you,” Mr. Prue said. He spent a leisurely moment puffing on his pipe. Every tick of the clock increased the tightness in Fontaine’s chest until she was certain she would scream.

“You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to them, would you?” Mr. Prue asked. “There are plenty of places in Halifax that would welcome such beautiful children. Places a child would never be able to leave.”

Fontaine felt as if someone had scooped her insides out and scorched what was left. She could not allow him to hurt Peter and Quinn. Even if sending them to a terrible fate meant she could save dozens or hundreds more children, she couldn’t do it. The boys had been through too much already.

“Don’t do this,” she whispered.

He examined the end of his pipe as if it were the most interesting thing in the room. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I told you Mr. Sellinger reached out to me about more funds. He insisted that I continue the operation as he had arranged it, even though it was hardly profitable. So, I wrote to some colleagues of mine here and explained about our disagreement .” He chuckled. “Old buildings are so very prone to fire.”

She wanted to slap her palms over her ears and scream at him to stop, but her muscles refused to move.

“At least all the children escaped,” Mr. Prue continued. “I believe the door leading to the staff’s quarters was found to have jammed and the staff was trapped. As I had not yet found a supplier to replace the old windows, they couldn’t escape through them, either.”

“Murderer,” she whispered.

Mr. Prue shrugged. “Call me whatever you want. I expect you to go happily into our marriage. I will give you exactly what I have promised, but I will not tolerate misbehavior. So long as you accomplish your responsibilities as my wife…” He waved his hand. “You can use the rest of your time as you wish.”

At least she would not be left with nothing.

“And Rosemary?” Fontaine asked.

Mr. Prue’s eyes narrowed. “You cannot have everything you want, Lady Kerry. You have betrayed me, and I know it was Mrs. Summersby who led you to it. No, you might have once enjoyed the companionship of your friend, but no longer. Mrs. Summersby will return to London on the next available ship. And do not think I would make it so easy for you to sever our arrangement. If you betray me again, I will ensure that you regret it.”

Her heart plummeted. She knew what Rosemary would say. She would claim Fontaine was being soft-hearted, that she could not protect every child by herself. Mr. Prue could simply cast Quinn and Peter aside and grab others to take their place. There had to be a point where she said no .

She dipped her head, carefully avoiding meeting Annie’s gaze. For now, she must play the beaten-down woman and allow Mr. Prue to believe he had won.

“Much better,” Mr. Prue said. “See? That wasn’t so difficult. You will make a lovely wife.”

Swallowing her instinctual response to that crooning statement was more difficult than she’d expected.