Gothic Romance - (LGBT)

Chapter Nineteen

Lord D'Anvers sighed again. Much as would have liked to walk away quickly and quietly, and leave Lord Silverwood to recover alone in the lane, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He suspected Jonathan would have had no such qualms, but the lane was dark and not in the best part of town. 

He didn't want to be held responsible if cut-throats, or even thieves, set upon the unconscious man. 

His next thought was to call for another cab and send him home, but then he realised he had no idea of his Lordship's address.  

Eventually, D'Anvers decided the best thing to do was to get him back inside the club where at least he could lie down comfortably until he came to his senses. 

Murmuring something vague about 'slippery cobblestones', Lord D'Anvers left Silverwood to the tender mercies of the doorman and returned to his rooms at the Clarendon, feeling that he had done all he could for the moment.  

Now all he had to do was wait for Jonathan's return. He wondered what on earth he thought he was going to do with Fredericka, it was hardly the same thing as picking up a stray puppy or kitten! He supposed he should be grateful he hadn't brought her back to the hotel. He poured himself a large glass of cognac as he waited for Jonathan. 

The more he thought about it, the more he could see that it was going to be up to him to sort out the problem. He only hoped Jonathan would be properly grateful. A smile came to his lips as his mind wandered, imagining just how Jonathan could show his gratitude. 

About an hour later, a knock came at the door, startling him out of a light doze. Who the devil could it be at this time of night? Surely it was too soon for Jonathan to return, and in any case, why would he be outside knocking on the door? D'Anvers got to his feet, prepared to blast the unfortunate person on the other side. He opened the door. 

Lord Silverwood stood there, with a bruise on his chin and an angry glitter in his eyes. He was not alone. Two large ruffians accompanied him, one on either side. Silverwood put his foot in the door. 

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," he said, through clenched teeth. "Where is she?"  

~~~ 

Jonathan was feeling rather pleased with himself. He had got Fredericka settled safely at the inn with Ellen, after promising to come back and visit her the next day. Now all he had to do was persuade Sebastian that taking care of her was the right thing to do.  

He had given Ellen enough money to pay for Fredericka's board for a week but after that he would have to find somewhere else for her to go. He wondered where he could take her, how she could support herself. What did penniless young women usually do, to keep from ending up on the streets? Marriage was the usual answer, but hardly suitable in this case! Governess, shop assistant, house maid - did she have the qualifications? the physical strength? He didn't think any of those options were really feasible but he couldn't think of anything else at present. 

For a moment he toyed with the idea of persuading her to don male garb, but then it dawned on him that, as a delicate looking young man, Fredericka would face the same risks from predators as she would as a young woman. 

She needed a patron, but one who would be kind to her and not violent. Maybe Sebastian could think of someone suitable. 

He smiled unconsciously. That look on Sebastian's face, when he, Jonathan, had asked Fredericka to dance ... It had been worth every second.  

He was looking forward to seeing him again, crossing swords over Fredericka if he had to, and this time he would stand up for himself.  

He peered out of the window and recognised his surroundings, not long now. 

~~~ 

Jonathan let himself into their hotel room, getting ready to counter Sebastian's protests - and saw Sebastian lying bloodstained and motionless on the floor. His heart leapt into his mouth - was he dead or alive? 

Blood was oozing from a nasty looking cut on his forehead, running down his face to join the blood welling from a split lip. That was good right? That the blood was still flowing?  

Jonathan dropped down immediately on the floor beside D'Anvers, feeling for a pulse, watching anxiously for a rise or fall of his chest. What the deuce had happened here in his absence? For a gut-wrenching second his searching fingers felt nothing, then they picked up the pulse which was beating steadily in his wrist. 

Jonathan sat back on his heels for a moment, dizzy with relief. Then he hurried into his room to find a clean cloth and fetch the water jug. Gently, his fingers trembling slightly with reaction, he washed the blood off D'Anvers' face. As he worked, he could see that in addition to the cuts, there was a purple bruise forming on his right cheek and a lump on the back of his head. 

D'Anvers had been attacked. Afterwards, Jonathan didn't know why it took him so long to make the connection but his first thought was that they had been robbed. He looked around the room but could see no obvious evidence of disturbance apart from the rug scrunched up under D'Anvers.  

Then another thought burst into his head. 

Evelyn. Where was Evelyn? He had been so busy tending to Sebastian that he had forgotten all about the boy. Could he possibly have slept through the whole affair? Or- 

"Evelyn!" He leapt to his feet and dashed into Evelyn's room. It was empty. Frantically he searched under the bed and even looked inside the clothes chest. But there was no trace of the lad.  

Then enlightenment crashed in. Silverwood. It had to be. He had come here in search of Fredericka, and when he couldn't find her, he'd taken Evelyn in her place.  

He tried hard not to panic. Poor Evelyn, he must be terrified. Surely Silverwood wouldn't hurt him, though? Evelyn was only a child. He would never forgive himself if any harm came to the boy.  

Jonathan forced himself to take a couple of slow deep breaths, panicking was not the solution - he had to think. 

Then he saw the envelope on the mantelpiece.