If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) (4 page)

* * *

Captain Silas Bones sipped a glass of claret. Its annoyingly poor quality burned his throat. Deprivation did not suit him. “Did you get the logbooks?”

“Nay, Cap’n. Searched Darington’s quarters on board, but he must have taken his logs.” His wiry first mate stood before him.

“My dear man, that is simply unacceptable.” Silas swirled the wine in his glass. “I would hate to think that you were disappointing me.”

His first mate stood at rigid attention. “N-no, sir.”

“I need those logs. I need to know what he did with the gold. Do you know why I need to know that?”

“Why, sir?”

“Because it is
my gold
!” Silas’s sudden shout made his first mate jump. “Now, take some of the lads and go search his lodgings. I care not what you do to get them, but bring me back those logbooks.”

“Aye, Captain.” The man saluted and left.

Silas had taken a small room in a disreputable inn by the docks, the only lodging he was now able to afford thanks to being raided on the high seas by Lord Captain Darington. Silas had been sailing under the French flag as a privateer at the time, but he would make no allowance for Darington taking his ship.

Silas poured himself another glass of the inferior wine. How had it all come to this? He knew how—it was all Darington’s fault. The man had taken everything from him. Everything.

Silas would get back his cargo, the treasure he carried for his father. He had to. If his father knew it had been lost…

Silas put aside the wine and pulled out a bottle of rum, forgoing the common civility of a glass. This was what Darington had reduced him to, drinking rum from a bottle like a common sailor.

Darington may have been an excellent privateer, but Silas had something the young man did not. Darington had no idea who Silas was. The earl had no concept of how their family histories were intertwined.

Silas knew. He knew everything.

This was far from over.

Four for a boy

Kate hated it when things did not go according to plan. She had expected Wynbrook, a man so obsessed with his own self-importance he could not ride down the streets in a run-down carriage—fine,
cart
—without embarrassment, to encounter Fleet Prison with abhorrence. She had expected his delicate sensibilities to be thrown into disarray and to be met with something of a cut direct for exposing him to the underbelly of London poverty.

She glared at Wynbrook, sitting next to her on the cart as they slowly drove through the frigid streets to the lodgings she had procured with her brother. Most Londoners believed that people who did not pay their debts deserved to be in prison. She’d expected Wynbrook to feel the same. Instead, he had not only expressed admiration for her actions, but he had also helped her make it come about.

She was determined not to like him. She had every reason not to like him. It was much easier not to like him. If only he would play the role of the arrogant aristocrat, this whole encounter with him would be much easier.

Apparently, Wynbrook was determined to be difficult. Drat the man! She attempted to dispel her unsettling feelings regarding Wynbrook with a mental review of her daily list.

1. Free children from Fleet prison.
Check.

2. Hold investors’ meeting and disburse funds.
Check.

She added another:
Meet Wynbrook for the first time since that night without doing him bodily harm or swooning at his feet.

Check
. At least for the most part.

Kate was anxious to get to her lodgings and part ways with the confusing Wynbrook, yet when they arrived, she immediately sensed something was wrong. Eyes were upon them, silent, watching, waiting for something to happen.

“Is the door usually kept open?” Wynbrook asked, pointing to the main door of house standing wide-open on a freezing day.

“No.” She grabbed her ledgers and turned to jump down, but Wynbrook was already there, lifting her gently to the ground. Even in her concern, her treacherous body reacted to his hands around her waist. She pushed the disconcerting emotions aside and rushed into the boarding house, Wynbrook at her side.

The landlady was sitting on the floor with a bloody cloth to her nose, surrounded by her elderly mother and two young children. “My Lady Katherine, two men, they asked for the key to Lord Darington’s room, but I didn’t give it, so—”

Kate’s heart wrenched to see her landlady so injured. Who had done this?

“What room?” demanded Wynbrook.

“Top of the stairs to the left.”

Wynbrook dashed up the stairs three at a time, Kate following behind as fast as she could in skirts. Banging could be heard from inside their room.

“Where is it? I can’t find it,” said one man.

“Captain won’t like it,” said another.

“Quick, run! Someone’s coming!”

Wynbrook barged into the room, extending an arm to keep Kate back, but it was empty, the window curtains fluttering in the wind. Kate dropped her logbooks and rushed to the window, where two men could be seen running down the alleyway. Stacked crates and other debris had been used to make a fast getaway.

“Who were they? Why…” Kate turned around in the ransacked room, stunned. It was happening again. Bad luck, every time she came to London. Cold fingers of dread snaked up her spine.

“Are you all right?” asked Wynbrook, immediately solicitous. “Here, do sit down.” He righted a chair and held it out to her.

Nothing could revive her faster than the insinuation that she could not handle herself in a crisis. “I am fine,” she snapped, shutting the window with a bang.

“Good, good. Well, spending a morning with you is never dull.” Wynbrook leaned next to her at the window and adjusted his cravat. “Did they steal anything?”

Kate surveyed the ransacked room in dismay. Papers and articles of clothing were strewn about. Both Robert’s and her sea lockers had been pried open and her precious few belongings dumped. It felt violating, but after a quick search, she could account for nothing missing. She was glad she had taken the books, her financial ledgers, and Robert’s captain’s logs with her, or they would have been thrown into disorder.

“What do you think they wanted?” asked Kate, grabbing her chemise from the floor. Cold fingers of dread were replaced with flashes of hot embarrassment at having her unmentionables tossed about the floor in plain sight. What could be worse than having her underclothes displayed for Wynbrook to inspect?

“Probably just thieves,” said Wynbrook, picking up an item off the floor. He held up a set of stays.

Heat rushed up her neck and she snatched them from his hand. Wynbrook made no comment but his green eyes sparkled.

“But why target us directly?” Kate desperately tried to change the subject. She could not believe he had held her underthings!

“Most likely petty thieves heard an earl was lodging here and thought you would make a valuable target.”

Kate’s heart sank. “I never meant to put anyone at risk by choosing modest accommodations. My poor landlady.”

“I am about to say something you will rarely hear me confess.” Wynbrook paused and cleared his throat for effect. “Tristan was right.”

“A brave admission. About everything or something in particular?”

“About almost nothing, and certainly not the shade of his waistcoat, but in the matter of your accommodations while you are in London, Tristan is right. You and Darington should stay with us.”

“Aha!” Tristan walked boldly into the room in triumph, followed by Darington. “You said I was right!”

“Oh, I shall never hear the end of this.” Wynbrook put a hand to his forehead.

“Right. You said I was right. Of course Dare and Kate need to stay with us. Only thing to do.” Tristan looked around the room, noticing the disarray. “You have certainly loosened your housekeeping standards since I knew you at university.”

“Thieves,” explained Kate with the parsimony that defined her conversation. “Did you catch whomever broke into your quarters on the ship?” she asked Robert.

“No. They searched the place but took nothing. Was anything stolen here?”

“Not that I could find. Do you think it related?” asked Kate.

Robert gave a brief nod. “Must have been looking for something. Maybe they heard of how much gold was on our manifest.”

“But all that is now in the bank.”

Robert nodded. “Good thing, or it would have been gone.”

“So you will stay with us?” pressed Tristan.

Robert met her eyes, asking her the question. She looked away from her brother in defeat. “Yes, thank you for the invitation,” answered Robert.

Kate wanted to object, but what else could they do? They could not stay here, and finding new accommodations that would not put someone else at risk would be difficult and costly.

Wynbrook gave her a slow smile that did something strange to her insides. How was she going to live in the same house with such a man?

“Tristan and I will return to Wynbrook House to let our sisters know you will be staying with us. I am sure they will be delighted.” Wynbrook bowed politely and left with his brother, who was still crowing in victory.

“Who did this?” Kate asked her brother when they were alone.

“I know not.”

Kate shook her head. Another mystery. They still did not know the enemy who had stolen their fortune and handed them over to debtors’ prison when they were young. The sad episode and lingering uncertainty had cast a pall over their lives.

Without further discussion, Robert and Kate got to packing. The fortunate part of having few belongings was that it took very little time to prepare for their departure. The room was straightened and their sea lockers packed within minutes.

Robert shouldered the sea lockers and walked down the stairs, Kate following behind. The would-be thieves should be thankful they had jumped out the window before Robert had returned. Years of hard work had made him stronger than he appeared and he was deadly in a fight.

The landlady had been moved to a chair in her modest sitting room and appeared to be recovering from the attack. Robert cast a glance at Kate and she nodded.

“We shall be staying with friends for the remainder of our time in London,” said Kate to the landlady. “Please accept this payment for our stay and any trouble our presence may have caused you.” She handed the landlady an envelope.

“Thank you,” murmured the landlady. Then she looked at what Kate had pressed into her hand. “Bless my soul! Oh, thank you, thank you, milady. Mum, come look what the lady done gave me. Just look!”

Outside, they climbed up onto the cart and encouraged Pickles to move once more. Kate pulled her wool coat closer against the freezing wind. How was it that she was going to the one place she most wished to avoid?

Wynbrook House.

“I cannot believe we are going back there,” she mumbled.

“Will you survive?” asked Robert in a tone somewhere between serious and sarcastic.

“I shall endeavor to manage. Besides, being among people of society may help you achieve your next objective.”

“Which is?” asked Robert with suspicion.

“You are twenty-five now and in London. It is time for you to find a wife.”

Robert stared at her aghast, his mouth slightly ajar. He tended to avoid members of the opposite sex. In truth, Kate suspected he would have rather faced a fleet of enemy ships in gale force winds than be introduced to even the most timid of ladies.

“You need to be married at some point. London seems a good place to find a bride.”

Robert’s dark brows lowered. “Must I do this today?”

“It would be convenient, if you could manage.” To Robert’s continued silence, she added, “Perhaps you could ask Tristan to introduce you to someone eligible so you can expeditiously find a bride.”

“And are you also to put yourself to a matrimonial search?”

“No. I do not have the duty to reproduce that is incumbent with a title,” she said smugly. Then more serious, she added, “I have lived in a man’s world too long to be a fit wife. I cannot escape the stain of my past. Not ever.”

“Truly? Not ever?”

They rolled slowly along in the London haze. “I will never be married,” said Kate firmly. “Of that I am certain.”

Five for silver

Wynbrook entered his neat, orderly town house, still turning around in his mind the fact that Kate was coming to stay with them. Lady Kate, the one person on earth he had intended to never see again, would now be his guest. At his own invitation! As much as he wished to avoid Kate, he could not stand to see her in distress. Maybe it was his sense of honor, maybe he felt obligated to Darington, or maybe it was her strange silver eyes, but he needed to know she was safe.

“Good news!” announced Tristan as he and Wynbrook joined their younger sisters for luncheon. “Dare and his sister, Kate, are coming to stay with us and will attend Jane’s wedding!”

Wynbrook watched the reaction of Jane and Ellen with some concern. The last time Darington and his sister had been invited to a wedding, it had all ended in tragedy. The room grew silent and all eyes turned to their youngest sister, Ellen. The awkward pause was broken by the footman, who announced the arrival of Lady Durant.

Their elder sister, Anne, swept into the room with an expensive swish of silk, removing her gloves with practiced elegance. “Good morning. We have much to do today to prepare for the wedding.” She paused a moment, noting the tension in the room. “You are all quiet this morning. What has silenced you?”

“The Earl of Darington and Lady Katherine are in Town and have been invited to stay with us and attend Jane’s wedding,” said Wynbrook, gauging her response.

Anne’s eyes widened and she gave a little cough. “How lovely. That will be all, Thomas, thank you.” Despite being married for five years, she was at Wynbrook House as often as her own home, filling the mother role for her younger sisters, and still commanded the Wynbrook household as if she had never left.

The footman glanced at the master of the house and Wynbrook gave him a small nod. This was not the time to debate with his older sister the finer points of ordering about his servants.

As soon as the footman left the room, Anne turned on him. “Now what is this about Darington coming to the wedding?”

“Are you not pleased?” asked Tristan, oblivious to any concern.

“It is not that we are not eternally grateful for all they have done for the family.” Anne glanced at Ellen, who flushed pink. No one lived with the daily reminder of the tragic incident more than Ellen.

“The accident was many years ago. I would like to see them.” Ellen smiled at her older siblings. “I cannot live my life being afraid of the past.” Her endorsement was all that needed to be said.

“Well then, that is settled,” said Anne with resignation. Her eyes flashed at Wynbrook, and he understood her intent. This was a situation he would have to manage to reduce any awkwardness when it came to the inevitable introduction of Darington and Lady Kate into society. “Jane, call the housekeeper and have some rooms made up. Shall we go through to the drawing room? I have some fashion plates I would like to consider for the wedding.”

“Shall I get your rolling chair?” Jane asked Ellen.

“Certainly not!” Wynbrook gave his youngest sister a broad smile. “Not while I am here!” He walked up to Ellen and picked her up in his arms.

“Thank you,” she said cheerfully as they moved into the drawing room.

A pang of regret rippled through him as it always did when he carried Ellen about the house. Though she and Jane had escaped the accident alive, Ellen’s legs had been crushed, requiring them to be amputated below the knee.

Wynbrook settled Ellen in a comfortable chair by the fire and she arranged her skirts such that no one would have guessed she was missing her lower limbs. At twenty-one years old, Ellen was in full bloom, her blond curls framing a sweet face and stunning blue eyes. She would have made quite an impression had the accident not robbed her of her future. For how could she ever enter society with no legs?

The footman entered the room and announced the Earl of Darington and Lady Katherine.

“Well, by Jove, here they are,” exclaimed Tristan. “Show them in!”

“My word, ’tis worse than I feared,” whispered Anne at the appearance of the morose, shabbily attired Darington twins.

Darington and his sister entered the room with considerable hesitancy. Kate surveyed the entire group of siblings with a sweep of her eyes. “Did not mean to intrude. We can return at a more convenient time.”

“No intrusion. Glad you are here,” declared the friendly Tristan.

“We are much obliged for your hospitality,” responded Kate.

“It is good to see you again,” said Anne. “Forgive me, dear, but are you in mourning?”

Kate glanced down at her black grown. “No, but I have found a black dress helpful in avoiding unwanted conversation.”

“Oh, indeed…” faltered Anne.

Wynbrook feared Kate’s disposition scared away more people than the funereal gown. He cleared his throat as any good English gentleman would do when caught in an awkward situation. “I am sure Darington and Lady Kate are tired from their journey. Jane, perhaps we can see our guests to their rooms.”

“Oh, yes!” said Jane. “The housekeeper hopefully is done preparing your rooms. Most of the staff are back at Arlington Hall preparing for the wedding. We would be too, had not Parliament opened early, requiring Wynbrook to come to London.”

“Parliament is in session this early?” asked Kate with a slight tilt to her head. Usually Parliament did not open before spring.

“Yes, to discuss the delicate situation of the health of the king,” said Wynbrook.

“You mean the madness of the king. Have you not been called to attend, Dare?” asked Tristan.

“Only arrived recently,” replied Robert.

“I’m glad it opened early, so you may stay with us.” Tristan beamed.

“I’ll get the chests,” said Robert and was gone.

“I shall help,” said Kate and hurried after him.

The thought of Kate carrying her own luggage had Wynbrook chasing after her into the hall. “Lady Kate,” he called. She stopped and turned slowly back to him.

“You do find us shorthanded, but please do not think I mean for you to cart your own things. Thomas, please see to the lady’s belongings.”

The footman gave a nod and strode out the front door.

“I am perfectly capable of carrying my own kit,” she argued, her hands going to her hips. She glared at him, ready for battle in her morbid gown.

“Yes, of course,” he agreed, though he was willing to wager there was not another lady in all of England who would even consider carrying her own luggage.

Awkward silence settled in the hall. Kate turned and stared at a painting by a Dutch master. He had no doubt she would stare at it for hours if it meant avoiding him.

“Do you plan to stay long in London?” He was not sure whether he wished her visit to be short or long. Certainly it would be easier if it was short.

She turned to him, her strange silver eyes flashing before returning to the portrait. “We shall stay for the wedding but will leave shortly after.”

“Naturally, you are welcome to stay with us as long as you wish,” he said, a bit surprised at how much he meant it.

“That is kind, but we do not wish to outstay our welcome, especially as you have much to do at present. We are well able to take care of ourselves.”

Wynbrook had no doubt that was true. He understood Darington and Kate had been deprived of their parents early in life, but more than that, Wynbrook realized he hardly knew Kate at all. Suddenly it became important to him to know her better. Who was this lady who would free the children of Fleet Prison and hardly blink an eye when her rooms were ransacked?

“Of course you can care for yourselves, but having friends means you do not have to do it alone.”

Kate turned to him, her eyes glinting. “Are we friends, then?”

Wynbrook was once again thrown off balance. Were they friends? Was she suggesting they were more? Was she telling him they weren’t?

He paused too long, the seconds ticking slowly by into eternity. But how should he answer?

“I see,” said Kate at his silence. “I will find where Lady Jane has gone.” She turned and stalked away, a swirl of memories in her wake.

“Friends!” called out Wynbrook to her retreating form. “I should hope we are friends.” His pulse quickened and he felt as if he were a schoolboy experiencing his first attraction.

Kate paused a moment but then continued down the corridor without further comment.

Wynbrook took a deep breath at her departure. He needed to get himself under better regulation. He was not unaccustomed to speaking with the loveliest of beauties. The fact that none ever made him feel the way she did was irrelevant.

He cleared his throat. This was all nonsense. No mere slip of a girl could affect him in such a manner. He needed to get back to his normal self. When they were next together, he would be charming and amusing and flirt shamelessly as he always did with the ladies. He would treat her the same as any lady of his acquaintance, and then she would be gone, taking all the confusing emotions with her.

At least, that was the plan.