The Lost Lord (London Scandals Book 3)

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The Lost Lord (London Scandals Book 3) Page 15

by Carrie Lomax


  She had wanted an adventure. Hell, if he hadn’t delivered one. Just not the one Miriam had sought.

  Bells clanged as the watch changed. The sun sank below the horizon in a blaze of sunset pink and orange. Wind ruffled his hair. Richard traced the key’s rough shape idly with his thumb. Temptation to end this farce of a life called him as tempting as a siren’s superficially dulcet voice. There was no pity in moon’s cold visage.

  He was going to make it up Miriam Walsh if it cost him every last ounce of his pride.

  She’d taken an enormous risk on him, and he had betrayed her in the deepest possible way. It didn’t matter if it took him the rest of his life, Richard was going to wash away the expression of hurt and betrayal that he and he alone had brought to her wide gray eyes.

  Then, he’d have earned the right to die.

  Fifteen long days passed before they sighted land. The Miriam ticked them off in her palm-sized diary, placing a thick black X over the number printed in the corners of each page. Each deep bold line marked a longer distance from her home and took her deeper into the unknown.

  “Why don’t we land?” she asked the captain at dinner that evening. Richard took his meal in his room under the ostensible excuse of a weak stomach, as he’d done every night since Lizzie’s appearance. Lizzie had not been invited to dine with the captain even once. Mrs. Kent surmised she had chosen a lower class of passage. Odd. Lizzie could certainly afford better.

  “We’ve cargo to go straight to London. I could put in at Portsmouth, but you’d spend extra coin to travel over land.”

  With impatience, Miriam watched the land glide past, counting the hours until she could get off this ship and onto another to make the same journey in reverse.

  Miriam had wanted adventure, but not the one she was living.

  She’d believed that getting out from under her father’s thumb and experiencing the world would be fun, exhilarating, and exciting. Reality had proven to be quite different. Ever since leaving New York her adventure had been by turns monotonous, frightening, and humiliating. Her heart ached with missing her father. She cursed her naïveté.

  “We’re making good time,” the Captain observed. “In all my years of sailing I’ve never seen such a streak of fine weather. We must have set a record with this crossing. Four weeks and six days.”

  Miriam bit into her dry chicken and raised her eyebrows in a gesture that could be interest, or approval, or what it actually was—impatience.

  Richard had been nowhere to be seen since the argument that had cracked Miriam’s heart in two. If he emerged from his cramped cabin at all, Richard timed his forays with precision to avoid her. The sting of disappointment at his absence each day confused her. She shouldn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to see him. And yet each day she scanned the deck half in fear of running into him and half yearning for a glimpse of the broad span of his shoulders. Then, self-loathing would curdle in her stomach.

  Why did her chest ache hollowly whenever she thought of Richard’s touch?

  On the morning their boat came around Margate, Miriam’s step faltered at the sight of Richard’s coattails fluttering in the breeze. He froze in place. Her heart hammered as they stared one another down like a wolf and deer spying each other in a forest. Miriam held no illusions. She was her husband’s prey.

  The emotions she read in him even at a distance of ten paces were as confused and sad as her own. Their gazes glancing past one another as though to cross them might immolate them both. Given the way he’d manipulated her, Miriam was disinclined to be overly solicitous of his. She raised her chin in the haughtiest way she could.

  “Excuse me, Miss Walsh. I did not intend to intrude upon your time above deck. I have something to return to you.” Richard sketched a bow.

  “You needn’t leave. It is a public space.” Words she hadn’t meant to say spilled from her lips in a rush. Mrs. Kent tugged her elbow, one thin eyebrow arched high. Miriam resisted her nurse’s unsubtle hint to move on.

  “We have been blessed with a run of excellent weather,” Richard responded warily. “I shouldn’t wish you to deprive you of it.”

  “It’s so wonderful to know you won’t deprive me of fresh air. At least I shall have enough breath to scream as you deprive me of my money, husband.” Miriam remembered her anger and glared.

  He winced as though her words landed with a physical blow. Richard gazed out over the churning ocean, his jaw tight. Why did he have to be handsome? The devil could at least do her the favor of making him physically unappealing.

  “Did you never wonder why I didn’t come to your bed, Miri?” he asked softly.

  Miriam swallowed.

  “Why I insisted you manage our funds, as well as the monies invested in the shipment expansion? I could easily have left you destitute. But I didn’t. I tried…” He broke off. Haughty pride crept into his voice as Richard pinned her with a hard glare. “I warned you that I was a bad man, Miri. You were a fool to believe I was anything but a liar. Yet I have left you a way out. As long as I don’t touch you, we can have the marriage annulled upon our return to New York. I will repay your father. I will make this right.”

  He reached for her hand. Miriam tried to pull away as the contact seared through her. Her husband tipped her palm upward and placed a hard object in her grasp. Miriam’s fingers closed around it as she pulled back.

  Richard bowed again and stalked away.

  Her key. Miriam inhaled sharply.

  Miriam allowed her nurse to lead her onward. Richard stalked to the port door to the lower decks and descended, leaving her and Mrs. Kent to partake of the fresh air and sunshine at their leisure. Miriam’s heart shriveled a little, watching him go. It wasn’t fair of the man to treat her decently now, not when he’d lied so outrageously in courting her. Miriam paced the deck for hours with her nurse at her elbow, taking in fresh air that cleared her lungs and mind and let rumination take hold of her thoughts.

  “What do you intend to do upon arriving in London?” her nurse asked quietly.

  “I suppose we ought to find a hotel and book passage on the first ship back to New York.” Miriam sighed. More weeks spent cooped up on a boat with Mrs. Kent were not what she’d had in mind when she’d desired an adventure.

  “Don’t you think we ought to make something of the visit, since we’ve come all this way?” asked Mrs. Kent. Miriam peered at her friend. “And there’s the business to consider. You’re meant to protect Mr. Walsh’s investment. You can hardly leave matters in Richard’s hands.”

  Miriam shuddered at the thought. “Agreed. If we were to stay, what would you like to see?” Anything to avoid being with Richard.

  “I have always fancied visiting a castle. Every little girl grows up dreaming of marrying a prince and living in a castle, doesn’t she?” Mrs. Kent squeezed her arm, trying to tease her back to good humor.

  “I didn’t,” Miriam pointed out. They rounded the deck, neatly avoiding two sailors laboring to coil a rope as thick as her wrist. No, it had been Lizzie who dreamed of grand gowns and grander houses.

  “You are more hardheaded than most,” commented Mrs. Kent, truthfully. “Soft hearted, hard-headed. It’s no wonder Lord Northcote took to you so keenly.”

  “How can you say that, when he has confessed that he was after my inheritance all along?” Miriam demanded.

  “Men can have more than one motivation,” Mrs. Kent replied mildly, scanning the horizon. “As can women. I never had the sense you cared as deeply about Lord Northcote as he did about you. You wanted to get out from your father’s thumb, and I can’t blame you. A young lady must have some memories to look back on fondly in her dotage.”

  “A man who cared for me wouldn’t have seduced me under false pretenses,” Miriam responded sharply. Her companion glanced sidelong, but they continued to walk. There was little else to do. She had read all the books she’d brought.

  “If I understand the situation correctly, he did not seduce you. It speaks well
of his motives.”

  “Is that enough to compel my forgiveness?” Miriam asked sharply. Considering how low she felt, the prospect that Richard’s sadness weighed deeper than hers was enough to drive all hope from the world.

  “Of course not. I shall personally hand Lord Northcote his own testicles if he dares to whisper in your general direction without your explicit consent. I am only ruminating on the significance of his efforts to maintain your financial and personal independence.” Mrs. Kent winced. “With apologies for my inappropriate reference to the male body, Miss Walsh.”

  Miriam waved away her nurse’s transgression and grinned. “Never mind that. If you want to see a castle, or multiple castles, we shall make it happen, Mrs. Kent. Even if we need to hire a fleet of bodyguards to protect us.”

  “A fine plan, Miriam.” Mrs. Kent gave her a rare smile back. “If you want to experience the world, you cannot wait for it to come to you.”

  The idea of salvaging some part of this misbegotten escapade brought a fleeting smile to Miriam’s lips. She felt them curve upward at the corner, and her cheeks did not crack as she’d thought they might a week ago. The ache in her heart eased fractionally. There was no possible way Richard cared more deeply for her than she did for him. She had wanted him, yes. Miriam had been keen to speak the words I love you, yet she had not done so. Not even on their wedding day. Deep down, Miriam had known she couldn’t quite trust Richard Northcote, yet she had married him anyway. What did that say about her?

  Chapter 19

  Gulls clamored overhead as the New Hope pulled into London’s teeming wharves. Richard stood statue-still at the edge of the deck as his hometown gradually increased in size from a distant miniature to a sprawling city.

  Christ, the place reeked. By contrast, New York and Boston had smelled positively pleasant. Richard dodged the occasional deck hand as hours passed and the ship tied neatly to the dock. Port officials boarded to inspect the contents of the ship and check the papers of those who bore them. Richard offered his brother’s letter as his mind struggled with the dockside dialect of his countrymen.

  Passengers disembarked in clumps. Two here, a rush of eight or ten there, one ambling down the gangplank, whistling. Lizzie’s red hair glinted in the sun to Richard’s left, but she did not turn, and he refused to acknowledge her. She stared out over the city, doubtless plotting her takeover.

  A twist of white linen flashed and disappeared in Lizzie’s hands. Richard observed her from the corner of his eye until she glanced briefly his direction, then gathered her skirts and followed the other passengers onto shore. An unsuspecting observer might mistake her for a weak and easy target in her elegant roller-printed cotton day dress and redingote. His forehead tightened into a frown.

  “Plotting a reunion with your lady love?”

  The bitterness in Miriam’s tone startled Richard out of his torpor. The arrival of woman he’d been waiting for made his heart skip. His throat closed around the words he wanted most to say.

  “More like waiting for a viper to strike,” was all Richard muttered. He cleared his throat. “Miriam. About what Lizzie said. It isn’t true. Lizzie had her intentions, but they were never mine.”

  “I suppose Lizzie impregnated herself,” Miriam responded tartly. “I hear women have a habit of that, particularly when it’s most inconvenient for men.”

  Richard shot Miriam a sidelong glance. She had every right to be angry with him. Guilt nagged him. “I never made a secret of her presence in my life. I’ll be the first to acknowledge my lack of gentlemanly virtue, Miri. Spare me the accusation of dishonesty.”

  “You courted me under false pretenses,” Miriam shot back.

  Richard shook his head, wishing he still had the liberty to take her into his arms and kiss the hurt away. “I didn’t. I told you exactly what I was. Disgraced. A liar. Untrustworthy. I confessed to killing my own father, Miriam. I would have told you about Lizzie’s scheme if she hadn’t been your bosom friend. Would you have believed me if I had dared to tell you the truth about your dearest acquaintance?”

  He took a breath. Miriam stared out over the bustling docks, unwilling to meet his gaze.

  “I thought not. The only solution I could think of was to take you away from her. I cannot fathom what drives Lizzie. All I care about, Miriam, is ensuring she stays away from you, and protecting my wife,” Richard said softly.

  Miriam stared at him now, with horror or awe he couldn’t decide. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am, Miri.” Richard’s pent-up thoughts nearly overflowed and tumbled out of his mouth in an embarrassing torrent. He bit his lower lip until the urge to blurt out his feeling abated. “Whether or not anything comes of the title my brother has dangled before me, I will make Howard’s trans-oceanic import business into a wild success. I won’t stop until Lizzie is out of our lives forever.” He swallowed. “I won’t stop until every promise I made you comes true.”

  Miriam snorted delicately. She thought he couldn’t do it. She thought he was nothing but a worthless liar. Her unspoken challenge reverberated in his soul.

  “You’ll see. In the meantime, I am holding you to your end of this deal, Miriam Northcote.” Richard spoke softly, with all the confidence of a lord in his homeland.

  “What deal?” Miriam demanded breathlessly. Richard took a step closer. She did not step backward. Toe to toe, they regarded one another as enemies, as equal combatants.

  “Our deal with Livingston and Howard. Hate me all you wish, but don’t hurt their investments to spite me.” Did Miriam look crestfallen? He wanted to believe it so badly. “Your father and Mrs. Kent are wrong about you.”

  “In what way?” she demanded softly.

  “You are not frail. Your strength is that of a reed swaying in the wind, but you’ll stand tall long after the wind had felled the oak,” Richard replied. How was he the only one who could see it?

  Again, Miriam scoffed. “I was weak enough to be taken in by my only friend and my only suitor. Do go on about my strength.”

  “You married me,” Richard rasped. “That leap of faith required courage. If you turn around and go back to New York after scarcely touching your feet on British soil, you will return a scandal and a laughingstock. You Americans are especially prickly when it comes to pride.”

  “My folly will certainly be outweighed by Lizzie’s deception.”

  Richard chuckled bleakly, cutting her off. “Lizzie is already a walking scandal whom everyone fears to cross. She has nothing to lose. You, however, possessed a sterling reputation until I stole your heart. If you go back now, alone…”

  He trailed off.

  “What do you want from me?” Miriam demanded, rough with anger.

  “Give me a chance to court you again before you turn tail and go home. In private, with no one watching. I want nothing more than to go back to that beach where we first met and show you the truth of my heart. Since we are here, the beach is out of the question.”

  “I gave you that chance. I invited you to take it, over and over, until I was half-convinced that I was so undesirable that I must content myself with the scraps of your affection.” Miriam’s bodice rose and fell. Richard’s stomach twisted.

  “I wish I’d never met you at all,” Miriam whispered. A thick coil of rope landed at her feet and forced her backward two steps. Closer to him. A seaman in dire need of a bath cast them a glare. Richard held the man’s gaze until he muscled past them.

  “I should find Mrs. Kent and a buggy to the nearest hotel,” she said when he had passed them by.

  “Miriam,” Richard whispered. “Don’t turn tail and run now. I told you exactly what I was from the first night we danced together. For all my faults—and they are numerous—I have never outright lied to you. Failed to tell you things you should have known, yes. All I wanted was to get you away from Lizzie and her schemes. Please, come and stay with my brother and sister-in-law. I can guarantee that you will be more comfortable there than you would be in any
hotel. It will give me peace of mind to know that you are safe.”

  Seconds ticked by. Gulls mocked his plea from the sky above.

  Miriam swallowed. The muscles in her slender pale throat worked. “What else?”

  “Allow me to court you again. I won’t press you to formalize our marriage. You must ask for that with the full knowledge of who I am and what I can give you. In the meantime, I will show you that everything we feel for one another has been true all along. Don’t let Lizzie poison what we have.” Richard had never wanted anything so badly as he wanted Miriam’s forgiveness. Not an earldom. Not a title. Somehow, she had become the only thing that mattered. If he could not earn her, he truly did not deserve to live. There would be no passage back to America.

  Fine. It wasn’t his home, anyway.

  “You mean, when I prove myself foolish enough to trust your honeyed words again,” Miriam sniffed. Tears threatened. His hand rose to push them away. Miriam flinched. Richard dropped his hand as if it had been burned. The passengers of the ship, impatient with their extended conversation, jostled past them. Richard and Miriam stood apart on the crowded deck, poised on the last remaining edge between their past and their future. When the din began to ebb, Miriam spoke.

  “Richard, whatever the truth of your relationship with Lizzie, I no longer care. We didn’t even make land before I found out that the only thing you valued about me was my father’s bank account. I do not want you to court me. I will stay long enough to see the Thetis come in and us to sell our wares. Then, I shall return to New York with Mrs. Kent.” Miriam raised her chin to keep it from trembling.

  Richard’s jaw tightened. She would never forgive him this humiliation. He bowed stiffly. “Whatever assistance you require I shall provide. My brother’s home remains open to you and your companion. I shall not burden you with my presence any more than necessary.”

  He turned on his heel and disappeared into the throng.

 

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