An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,99

worse for wear, his soiled clothes were disheveled and stained, his neckcloth askew, and his beaver hat perched precariously on his head. His cheeks were dark with morning beard, too much drink, and God only knew what else he’d done last night.

“Oh, Freddie,” she muttered with a tired sigh, her shoulders slumping, “why won’t you ever grow up?”

She was indebted to him. A great deal. But there was no love lost between them. She’d always known that, even when they were children.

What a relief it would be when she was no longer beneath his roof and out from under his control, with a husband who truly loved her, a house of her own, and children. Lots of children. She might even allow Freddie to visit on holidays. She smiled wryly at the idea. If he behaved himself.

But first, she had to tell him about the annulment.

Oh, that was not going to be a pleasant experience! How would he accept the scandal that was bound to result, scandal that would undoubtedly affect his career? No matter that it would mean her freedom or that she was now working to save him from prison. Given Pearce’s new status as an earl, he might even be willing to—

Three men who had been lingering on the footpath began to walk toward Freddie. The men called out to him, and he stopped just before he reached the front step. Amelia could see from upstairs that her brother didn’t recognize the men…but they knew him.

His face twisted in instant anger, and he hurried on toward the house.

Without warning, two of the men flanked him, grabbed him by the arm, and held him still while the third man reached beneath his coat—

“No!” she screamed, dropping her cup and smashing it against the floor. She ran through the house, shouting out to Drummond to help. But the butler wasn’t in sight, and she couldn’t wait for him.

Yanking open the front door, she raced outside. She flung herself between Frederick and the men. “Leave him alone!”

“Move out of the way, ma’am,” the third man ordered. “We’re with Bow Street. This doesn’t concern you.”

Her gaze dropped to the man’s hands—not a gun as she’d feared but a pair of iron manacles. “You’re arresting him?” She turned quickly back and forth between the two men behind her, still holding onto Freddie even though he wasn’t struggling at all. She leveled her gaze on the more dangerous man in front. “On what charge?”

“Corruption.”

“Brought by whom?”

“Sir Charles Varnham. Now step aside.”

“But—but that’s—” Impossible now that Pearce had seemingly agreed to the trust and Frederick had done all that the blackmailer had wanted. As far as anyone knew, the trust would go through, the last men would be placed—

Her blood turned to ice. No, the trust wasn’t going through. She’d said as much herself at the Black Ball, right in front of Freddie’s cronies and anyone else who might have overhead. Including the blackmailer.

Oh, she’d been so stupid! Everything she’d feared was now set in motion. All because of her.

In desperation, she jabbed a finger at Frederick and then in the general direction of Westminster. “You cannot arrest him.” She needed a reason—any reason that would buy her time and make the men leave. Her mind spun, only to latch onto— “He’s a Member of Parliament! He has Parliamentary privilege against arrest while the House is in session.”

“That’s only for civil charges,” Frederick informed her quietly.

She whirled around to face him, then froze, struck by his expression. He was shocked by this, but also weak and defeated, with slumping shoulders and his hat knocked to the ground at his feet.

“We’re arresting him on charges of smuggling, among other things,” the man with the manacles explained.

But she barely heard him, her focus on her brother and her mind running rapidly through all that would now be destroyed. “No—you have to fight this.” For God’s sake, he wasn’t even arguing in his own defense!

The man behind her roughly shoved her aside.

As she stumbled to gain her balance, he clamped the manacles over Freddie’s wrists. The two men holding him hurried him to a carriage waiting down the street, opened the door, and shoved him inside. They followed after him and slammed shut the door.

The third man wordlessly doffed his hat to Amelia, then swung up onto the bench beside the driver. The whip cracked, and the team started forward at a fast clip, disappearing around the corner.

Gulping down great mouthfuls of air to keep back a