Free To Be Seduced by Ann Stephens Page B

followed by a volume of Ovid. Hastily backing out, he slammed the door behind him. He looked sheepishly at Mr. Armitage. “I don’t believe Mistress Dallison is receiving visitors just at this time.”
    Just behind him, the scrawny banker stood holding his hand to his chest in the manner of one suffering from severe heart palpitations. His appalled gaze took in the shaving mug and the book.
    “You, sir, are an unmitigated scoundrel,” he puffed. He looked so agitated that Richard nearly offered him Bethany’s vinaigrette.
    The worthy man staggered past Richard and knocked on the door, only to hear Bethany furiously castigate him.
    “Madam, my name is George Armitage. I am known in the City as a decent man, and I am prepared to offer you whatever aid you need to escape the hands of this reprobate.”
    The flow of invective stopped. Richard felt faint at the prospect of the wretched girl taking advantage of the offer and slipping through his fingers.
    “I shall be out directly.” Bethany’s voice sounded unexpectedly composed. Richard braced himself and waited. She was going to do something.
    The door opened wide a few minutes later, providing a full view of the disheveled bed. Bethany had dressed but could not fasten the laces on the back of her bodice tightly. Her kerchief was nowhere to be found. Tendrils of hair flew about her face as she threw herself on the banker’s bony chest.
    Her fiancé wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled.
    “Thank goodness you’re here, sir! Lord Harcourt is the most vile beast!” She buried her head on his shoulder. He bade her calm herself, gingerly patting her back.
    Richard gritted his teeth at the girl’s playacting, but the other man appeared to be completely taken in. A blast of anger erupted when she raised her head once more, begging the other man to rescue her. “Have done, you stupid chit! You’ve hardly suffered any lasting harm at my hands.”
    His lack of remorse nearly sent the banker into an apoplexy. Struggling for breath, he looked pointedly from the bed to the half-dressed girl before returning his gaze to Richard’s face. “No harm, sir? Mistress Dallison is nearly in hysterics from your brutality.”
    He turned to Bethany. “I recognized you at once, my child. You bear a strong resemblance to your father.” He held her away from him to look her in the face. “Now, you must tell me the truth. Has this man…” He swallowed once or twice before he forced out the question. “Has this man defiled you?”
    Her wail drowned out Richard’s protests. “I cannot speak of it, sir! Abducted from my home and forced to spend two nights in his company—it was horrible.”
    Mr. Armitage staggered to the high-backed bench and collapsed. “The worst news possible. There’s no hope for it, then. You must marry him unless the man your mother chose will take you in your ruined state.”
    “No, absolutely not.” She spoke quickly. “I—I could not foist myself on a decent man like Mr. Ilkston in these circumstances.” Richard looked at her sharply as she continued. “But Lord Harcourt only marries me for my money! He has barely been able to feed me these last two days.”
    “A bad business all the way around.” Mr. Armitage’s mournful tones indicated his sympathy. “This miscreant could be arraigned for his crime, yes. But you would still spend the rest of your life outside the bounds of decent society, dear child.” He shook his head. “Repugnant as it must be, marriage to Lord Harcourt is your only choice.”
    With a great sigh, he announced that he would send a letter of credit that very day and, recalling Bethany’s comments on Richard’s poverty, even pressed upon her his own purse for their immediate use.
    Contemptuously declining Richard’s offer to see him down to the hallway below, he took his leave, shaking his head sadly.
    Richard and Bethany looked at the closed door for several seconds before he turned to her. “My father brought me up