“You will,” Simeon snarled, “Or I will remove you from this place and sell you again! Next time to a man who promises to make you a whore!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Your Grace you must come!” Mr. Portnoy exclaimed, bursting into Algernon’s office without so much as a knock.
“Jesus, man what has gotten into you?” Algernon demanded shooting out of his chair.
“It is Lady Beatrice, Your Grace,” Mr. Portnoy hastily replied. “She needs assistance.”
Algernon tensed then shook his head.
“I am sure whatever issue has arisen for Lady Beatrice can be addressed by someone else,” he muttered, moving back into his chair. “What could possibly be so wrong? One of her dresses came back the wrong size? Her dance instructor stepped on her foot?”
He said the words bitterly, trying to use such simple reasons to feel annoyed at her. He had to be annoyed. If he was not annoyed, then he was curious, and if he was curious, he would give in to his desire to see her. If he saw her…
“No, Your Grace, it is nothing so simple,” Mr. Portnoy hastily replied, “There are three visitors downstairs. A gentleman and two ladies. They claimed to be friends of Lady Beatrice, but the man now has a hold of her and?—”
Algernon heard nothing else as he shot out of his chair. A strange ringing took over his ears as he raced down the hall and toward the stairs, a sense of urgency taking over his other need to stay away from Beatrice. His thudding heart froze as he reached the landing of the stairs and saw the scene Mr. Portnoy described with his own eyes.
The man Beatrice had been sold by—the one she so bravely stood up to the night Algernon had purchased her at the auction—had his hands wound tight around Beatrice’s upper arms, a murderous look on his face as he gave her a great shake. Even from where he stood, Algernon heard the snap of Beatrice’s teeth from the force of the shake, and his vision went red.
He did not know how got down the stairs so fast, nor did he know how got Beatrice untethered from the man’s grip. All he knew was that he was between them and suddenly had ahold of the man’s jacket.
“How dare you!” he seethed, giving the man a mighty shove, sending him sprawling backward into the ladies he was flanked by. “How dare you come into my home and accost this woman!”
The man’s glare immediately dissolved as he looked upon Algernon and quickly straightened himself, pulling away from the ladies that still looked at Algernon with an expression of terror.
“Your Grace,” the man gasped, “you do not understand. It is not what it looks like. She is my daughter, and I was only here to see of her well-being. I?—-”
“Her well-being?” Algernon bellowed, taking a threatening step toward him. The man flinched.
“You sold her like chattel, you monster. You have no right to call yourself her father!”
A glare took over the man’s flushed face, and he gritted his teeth as he pointed over Algernon’s shoulder.
“I do not know what she has told you, but I assure it is not?—”
“If you believe that I will take your word over hers, then you are as simple as you are monstrous, Sir!” Algernon snapped, catching hold of the man’s finger and bending it backward.
The man grunted in pain, his once proud stance buckling under Algernon’s pressure.
“You will leave my house at once,” he gritted out, bringing his face close to the man’s, so he was forced to look him in the eye. “If I catch you on my property or anywhere near her again, I shall break more than your finger.”
Before a breath could pass, he flicked his wrist, and a roar of pain escaped the man’s lips as his finger snapped in Algernon’s fist. Algernon shoved it away, disgusted that he’d even touched such a man, and took a step back.
“I said go!” he roared, even as the three of them were already stumbling backward toward the door.
His eyes did not leave them, not until the door was shut and they were gone, then he whirled on Beatrice. He met her eyes just as a heartbreaking sob left her throat, and she collapsed onto the stairs.
“No,” Algernon breathed, rushing to gather her in his arms.
He ignored the way his body sang with relief at touching her again, too worried for her to allow anything else.
“It’s all right,” he soothed, cradling her head to his chest as Beatrice wept. “It’s all right. I am here.”
“T-they w-wanted mm-more,” Beatrice sobbed.
“It does not matter,” he promised then dropped a kiss atop her head. “It does not matter what they wanted, do you hear me? They have no power over you anymore.”