It wasn’t Daniel. His bare feet and dirty clothes were proof of that. Seeing one of Edward’s friends had simply made her see her old beau where he wasn’t, where he could not be. After all, what was the last thing she’d heard about him? That he was exploring the silk trail in China. Or was it smuggling harem girls out of Istanbul? Or perhaps it was the story about trading in illegal ancient artifacts in South America. So many scandals had been attached to his name, she could hardly keep track of them.
“And, of course, you shall dine with me,” the captain was now saying. “Will dinner at the captain’s table suit you, Miss Trent?”
She had no intention of dining with him or anyone else on board. She and her aunt would come up with some excuse—seasickness, perhaps—to keep Emme out of his purview and diminish the likelihood of him recognizing her as Edward’s sister. But manners dictated politeness. She managed a smile. “Of course, Captain.”
Still, Emme was relieved when the captain saw them below decks and deposited them safely at the door of her aunt’s stateroom, pointing out Emme’s room beside it. As soon as he was out of sight, Aunt Juliana crossed her arms in front of her.
“The captain hardly seems inclined to let you stay out of sight. And it’s obvious you know him. He’s bound to recognize you sooner or later, and you’ll have been caught out lying to a perfectly nice young gentleman.”
Emme hoped her aunt was wrong. “I didn’t know him that well. He was one of Edward’s school friends, and I was still a child, really, the last time he saw me.”
“You’re no longer a child, and don’t think he didn’t take notice. He might see you as easy prey, without the protection of your father’s title.”
Emme hadn’t considered that potential pitfall, but she still remembered a thing or two Edward had taught her about throwing a jab and an undercut before she’d set sail for Spain. “I promise you, I won’t allow the captain or any other man to take liberties with me.” Not again.
And if any man thought otherwise, he would regret it, as she would prove herself a skilled boxer.
Chapter 2
After nearly a week of uneventful seas, during which he’d had far too much time to resume the role of a gentleman and ponder the life awaiting him back in England, Daniel had an unrelenting headache. He sat at the simple wooden table affixed to the wall of the captain’s cabin and sipped cognac, while Granville whistled some abominable tune as he unbuttoned his cuffs and collar. The blasted noise reverberated against the wood and metal surfaces of the captain’s quarters and exacerbated the pain in Daniel’s temples.
“What has you in such an unbearably jovial mood?” he asked when he couldn’t stand another second of Granville’s off-key chirruping.
“Tomorrow night will be a fine one, Hallsy. There will be a full moon and the stars will appear near enough to the earth to touch. The ocean will roll gently beneath us—”
“And Lady Kendall’s traveling companion will finally join us for dinner?”
“Oh, aye. When the doctor saw her earlier today, he found her amongst a stack of papers, lesson plans or some such. It appears she’s a governess when not serving as a lady’s traveling companion. He said she looked quite recovered.”
“You’ve had McReedy spying on one of our passengers?” Daniel rubbed his aching temples.
“Just keeping me apprised of her health.” Granville threw back the rest of his drink. “From what I understand, the fetching creature finally has her sea legs and is set to make an appearance at my table tomorrow night.”
Daniel smirked. “You always did have a flair for the dramatic. I’d wager her appearance has nothing to do with you.”
“Then you would lose a bet. After a few hours in my company, I’ll have her helpless in my arms.”
Daniel raised his glass. “I’ll take that wager. Your finest bottle of cognac against an even better one in our next port. And I do mean your finest bottle, not this barely passable swill you’ve been pawning off on me.”
“Swill? Hardly.” Granville sniffed his empty glass and grimaced. “Perhaps you have a point. I’d expected more from this bottle. I won it off a chap in Portugal.”
“Enough of your gambling spoils. Next time, you’ll open the good stuff.”
“Yes, I can’t take your wager in good conscience, with the odds so profoundly in my favor.”
“That poor young woman.”
“Nonsense,” Granville said. “She took a shine to me immediately. It was a mutual attraction. And before you assume the obvious interest in her delightful curves, I’ll tell you she has an air of breeding about her.”
“So that’s what you’re about. Looking for a wife, are you, Granville?”
“Not on your life. Let’s just say that I, too, need to become accustomed to refined English company again.”
“From governess to mistress for her, then.”
Granville took a seat across from Daniel at the small table by the window that overlooked the main deck. “Why not? Her pay would improve. But you know, that’s not a half-bad idea, marriage. For you of course, not for me.”
Daniel choked on a sip of the swill. “What?”
“You have the fortune to support a wife from any of the finest families. And think of how a merger with a fine, upstanding family would impress the Committee for Privileges, not to mention the society mavens who dragged your family’s name through the muck. And then you could finally forgive yourself for breaking the promise you made to the marchioness.”
Daniel cursed the night he’d been entertaining Granville and Swimmer at his chateau in Spain, and had been drunk enough to tell them about his mother’s confession. How she’d begged him to fight for the title and the marquessate to keep the late marquess’s line alive in spirit, if not by blood, and to cleanse the stain of hinted illegitimacy from the family name. It wasn’t that Daniel distrusted his old friends with his secret. Quite the contrary, he believed they’d take it to their graves. It was what Granville would do in the meantime, in the name of helping his cause, that worried Daniel.
“You forget, my last association with one of England’s finest families didn’t end well.”
Edward Radcliffe, Viscount Meriden, had been one of his closest friends. Meriden’s sister Emmeline had been...could have been...Daniel couldn’t bear to remember it. They’d rejected him outright at the first whisper of a scandal. Hells bells, what must they think of him now, after so much more about him and his family had been whispered and said outright?
“I think I’ll enjoy the life of a bachelor, as I’m sure you’ll understand.”
Granville shook his head. “Sorry Hallsy, but you know the quickest route to redemption in London will be making a good match. And I know who can help you. Swimmer’s mother.”
“The duchess?”
“She’s earned quite the reputation as a matchmaker since her widowhood,” Granville said. “I’ve always suspected she had something to do with James Alcott’s untimely passage into the world of married men.”
His friend continued, but Daniel was distracted by a shadowy figure that appeared on the deck and walked the length of it, the same as she had every night since they’d left port. For one so assailed by seasickness, Miss Trent certainly did take to midnight constitutionals. Daniel wondered if Granville had been kept apprised of that strange behavior.
“Sometimes I think you’re hardly listening, Hallsy,” Granville said. “I try not to take it personally. One can hardly expect you’d find the likes of me interesting after your escapades across three continents.”
Daniel scowled at his friend. “You could have warned me about just how many ridiculous scandals you’d concocted about me. Last night at dinner, I thought Lady Kendall might faint when one of the gentlemen brought up the matter of harem girls. What exactly is it I’m to have done with them?”
Granville grinned. “Not nearly as much as I would have done, or as much as I’ll do with the governess. I’m so looking forward to our strolls under the moon
light. Then perhaps I can place her.”
Daniel set his cognac glass on the table, his hand shaking. “Place her? What does that mean?”
“Hm.” Granville shrugged. “There’s something familiar about her. She remindsd me of someone... Perhaps the eyes. I’m not sure.”
The eyes. Emmeline’s eyes had been quite like her brother’s.
It couldn’t be her, of course. Limely would never allow his daughter to travel abroad, let alone to hold employment as a governess. The disquiet in Daniel’s belly eased as he talked himself out his illogical fears.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually,” he told Granville. “With your proclivities, odds are you’ve seduced at least one of her female relatives.”
“I’ll choose to take no offense at that remark,” Granville said. “Not to mention, it’s possibly true. Sadly, though, your rudeness leaves me no choice.” He pointed to the cabin door. “Out with you.”
Daniel laughed as he stood. “I was just going to excuse myself.”
“Be sure to ask forgiveness for your insolence when you say your night’s prayers.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Hallsy.” Granville glanced at Daniel, who stood with his hand on the doorknob. “Remember, I saw her first.”
Daniel held up his free hand. “I have no plans to cross paths with the governess.”
“I’ll hold you to your word.”
Daniel stepped onto the deck and soundlessly closed Granville’s door behind him. He had every intention of keeping his word. He had neither a reason nor a desire to meet the woman. He did, however, intend to see her face, once and for all. Surely, he wouldn’t know the woman, so what harm would it do to confirm it with a glance? Then he could hie to bed and get the first decent night’s sleep since his glimpse of the woman on the wharf had inspired haunted dreams of his beautiful, green-eyed, would-have-been lover.
* * *
A salt-soaked wind stung Emme’s face the moment she stepped on deck. In the six days they’d been traveling, her nighttime constitutional had become her favorite part of the long, monotonous days. She pulled a lungful of air deep into her chest, determined to enjoy the freshness that was so unlike the stale mustiness of her cabin. This was her last night of freedom, having made the mistake of opening her cabin door to take in an afternoon breeze, which had allowed the doctor to find her hale and hearty and presiding over her completed stack of correspondence to the members of the London Spinsters’ Club.
But it was just as well. Feigning illness and squirreling herself away in her room had become tiresome, and she’d longed to walk on deck in the sunlight for days now. But tonight, the stars were exceptionally beautiful, there was no one about to bother her, and she would enjoy the solitude one last time.
The headwind made her shiver and she pulled her cloak more tightly around her gray frock. The simple cut and mourning colors of her dresses did much to disguise her station. Besides, she was hardly ready to move beyond them. Perhaps she’d continue to wear them once she officially joined the spinsters. Then when she met the unwed mothers and their young children the spinsters helped, they wouldn’t wonder why a young, well-bred woman chose spinsterhood. They’d assume her mourning was for a husband cut down in the prime of life. Not a sister, drowned long before reaching her prime.
Emme hesitated when she neared the captain’s cabin. Light spilled from the window. Typically, by the time she took her walk, everyone but a few crew members who steered the ship were long since abed. She moved as far as she could from the window, hugging the railing at the edge of the deck. She made the mistake of glancing down, just once, at the roiling ocean out beyond the railing. Her stomach lurched and she was overcome by the illness that, up until now, she had only feigned. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She had conquered this beast in Spain, taking near-daily swims in the strong ocean currents until she’d lost her fear of swiftly moving water. Or so she’d thought.
Her stomach calmed, but her nerves still sparked. She crossed the deck to the stairwell leading below-decks, toward the safety of her room. Instead of abating, her unease grew as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She could have sworn someone was watching her. She prayed the captain’s interest in her had led him to discourage any ruffians on his crew from attempting to take liberties with her.
The prayer died on her lips when, a few steps into the shadowy passageway, she ran into a hulking mass. Instinctively, she balled up her fist. A strong hand encircled hers and held it in place, inches from her intended target—his face.
For a moment, she thought her muddled mind had conjured up her first love. But that couldn’t be. He was off to see the world, leaving scandal and no doubt heartbreak in his wake. It had to be this man’s cologne, so similar to Daniel’s, that made it difficult to catch her breath.
When he whispered in her ear, any hope that her first love was somewhere far, far away evaporated.
Chapter 3
“You seem to have made a miraculous recovery, Miss Trent.” Daniel was shocked by the solid sound of his own voice, given how his head swam from her lilac scent and her warm skin. He opened her clenched fist with his fingers and stroked her palm with his thumb.
“The medic gave me a tonic.” Her voice was reed-hin.
It scraped against his skin and made him burn.
“Now might be a good time to tell me what this is about, Lady Emmeline. Or is it Miss Trent? Tell me what you’re playing at, kitten.”
She tensed at the use of his endearment for her. He hoped it reminded her of being with him in the garden at her family’s country estate. And the swimming pond. And most especially the library, where they’d had their midnight rendezvous. He regretted there wasn’t enough light to see whether she blushed from remembering it. How many times had he relived those moments over the past five years? It seemed only fair that she should, as well.
“So, you’ve found me out.” She snatched her hand out of his grasp. “I beg of you not to breathe a word of this to anyone.”
Well, this does sound interesting. “First, tell me how you came to be on this ship with an elderly lady and no suitable chaperone.”
“She’s my great-aunt and a perfectly suitable chaperone.”
“Who is conveniently absent at the moment.”
“You can’t truly be here,” she said, shaking her head. “My aunt would have told me if another of Edward’s friends were on board.”
She seemed hell-bent on convincing herself he was an apparition.
He touched her shoulder to assure her was very real. “Your aunt and I never met, and I daresay neither of us recognized the name of the other having any association with you.”
Emmeline glanced over her shoulder. “This is neither the time nor the place for a discussion, Mr. Hallsworth.”
The clawed kitten spit his common name at him. Restoring his title and the reputation for his family name was for his mother, but for the first time, he saw the appeal of wielding the power of the marquessate over those who had turned on him, like the Radcliffes.
“Then let’s go somewhere more private.” Daniel walked the few feet to her stateroom and opened the door. The lamp on the bedside table cast a golden glow into the passageway, illuminating Emmeline. She was no longer the pretty girl who had smitten him, but a beautiful woman.
She raised her chin and grasped her skirts to swish past him in her unremarkable gray traveling gown. He followed her into the room and closed the door behind them, then propped his back against the door jamb.
She turned on her heel. Oh, how he remembered Lady Emmeline’s set-down stare. So much passion flowed beneath the surface of this lovely woman. He couldn’t suppress his grin.
“This situation is not laughable. It’s unseemly to be here without my chaperone, as you’ve already stated.” Her cheeks bloomed red and she bit her lower lip as though wishing she could take back the words.
He shouldn’t take pity on the spiteful creature. After all, her fam
ily could have risen to his defense when his uncle had launched his assault on Daniel and his dying mother, claiming Daniel a bastard to bring his title into question. Instead, they had disavowed him. His best friend Meriden had publicly shunned him. And Emmeline, his beloved Emmeline...
When Meriden told Daniel what she’d said about him, how she’d so easily cast him aside, even after he’d poured out his heart in a letter to her, his pity evaporated. What would she think now that the House of Lords was poised to restore his title? Would she swoon at his feet once more? Should he use it to his advantage to...to what? What did he want from her?
The answer flashed through his mind in all its animal ugliness. He wanted her. He wanted to possess her, to bend her to the will of his body, to draw out her passion and make her scream his name. And then to leave her, besmirched and undone, to deposit her back into the bosom of her family a ruined woman.
He wouldn’t dare make it public. Such a scandal would threaten his ability to regain the title. Besides, he wouldn’t stoop so low as the ton had in destroying him. He wouldn’t threaten her chances at making a decent match in the marriage mart. It would be enough to keep the humiliation between the Radcliffes and him. It would be enough to break their hearts.
For the first time in days, the tension in his neck eased and the throbbing in his temples subsided. He felt strong. Virile. Voracious.
He advanced on her slowly, first one step, then another. She retreated in rhythm. Even in this cat-and-mouse game, their bodies were undeniably in harmony. In the end, he would leave a part of her destroyed, but in the meantime, he would bring her so much pleasure.
One Kiss From Ruin: Harrow’s Finest Five Book 1 Page 2