He shook his head. “I’ve never been good at it. I like change. Excitement. It gets me into trouble a fair amount.”
She nodded as her hand fluttered to his chest. She could feel the strong beat of his heart underneath her fingers. “I understand completely.”
Bash cleared his throat, loudly and obviously. “Eliza, are you ready to sit on your own?”
“No,” Dylan answered before she had to. “She’s fine right here.”
She turned deeper into his chest. She was fine. Right here. Despite one of the worst mornings of her life, she was completely fine wrapped in the strength of his arms.
She’d have to leave soon enough, and she’d need to figure out her future. She shuddered to think about it, and he held her tighter to his chest.
She burrowed in. Despite what she’d just said about adventure and freedom, she had the feeling that she belonged here, wrapped in his strong embrace.
Dylan squeezed her tighter.
He’d known needy women before. Hell, he’d known nearly every type of woman. But there was something about a very strong one curled into him that pulled on every heartstring he had.
She normally faced the world with her shoulders straight and her head held high. It made him feel strong to think that she, of all people, needed him. His family certainly didn’t value him, but Eliza did and that meant something. Didn’t it?
And in this regard, he wouldn’t let her down. He’d comfort her until he couldn’t anymore.
The depth of his conviction frightened him a bit. He couldn’t remember feeling this strongly about anything.
Once the carriage pulled up to the house, he’d send her inside and go home.
He’d allowed her too much sway over him tonight.
Dylan didn’t become involved in other people’s lives. He could barely manage his own. And marrying a woman like Carmella would finally prove that he was the son his family had always wished he could be. He’d do the right thing. Not that they were alive to see it, but still.
He remembered the countless times he’d let his family down.
He’d arrived at a cousin’s wedding completely intoxicated. He’d heard about that one for days.
Granted it was Henry’s nuptials, who at the time had been heir, and the man his parents constantly held up as the shining example of proper behavior in contrast with Dylan’s own personal failings. But still. Dylan was the one who’d made an ass of himself in front of the entire family. He supposed embarrassing them was his way of getting back at them for never being enough.
And then there was the affair with Henry’s wife he’d had later on. The poor girl had been starved for affection. But that’s not why he’d done it. He’d somehow wanted to prove that one person found him more desirable than dear Henry.
He closed his eyes as shame washed over him.
Eliza’s hand tightened around him.
But the memories, they pulled him away from her. He wasn’t worth the ground she walked on. She was spectacular. Beautiful, strong, the pillar of her family, and he…he was a destroyer. He’d worked his utmost to spite the family that never cared for him. Never wanted him.
That’s all he’d ever done.
With his marriage, he was attempting to build up one thing…the title. But he knew he’d personally let down whatever woman he married. How could he possibly be a success at both when he’d never done a thing right in his life?
“Dylan?” She lifted her head.
“We’re nearly there. You should eat and then go straight to bed.” He gave her a soft smile, trying to disguise his inner turmoil.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice hoarse from the crying. “I don’t know how I would have…”
He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “You would have found a way.”
She gave him a breathtaking smile. Her mouth started to turn up, hesitated, and then gently lifted into a warm, soft grin that robbed the air from his lungs.
He’d wanted her before but somehow this was different. He still wished to touch her, but he also wanted…to protect her, support her. Watch her shine.
“Thank you,” she murmured as the carriage slowed to a stop.
He didn’t answer as the door snapped open. Then he lifted her out and when his feet were on the ground, he gently set her down, placing a hand at her waist to guide her up the stairs.
The trio made their way into the still-empty kitchen where Eliza grabbed a hunk of bread from the counter and then started up the stairs.
She didn’t say a word, but she looked back at him several times until she disappeared from sight.
He stared at the point where she’d disappeared for several seconds before a hard finger tapped his shoulder. “We need to talk.”
Bash.
His best friend in the world. And the man who currently participated in wedded bliss. Damn. What had he been thinking holding Eliza in front of Bash like that? Eliza had a way of making him act unlike himself. “Do we?”
“I don’t know about you, but I could use a whisky.” And then Bash started out of the kitchen. Dylan followed.
When they reached Bash’s office, he wordlessly crossed the room and opened the decanter that sat on a small table, filling two glasses.
Dylan stood by the low fire, watching the embers burn in the grate. Bash handed him a glass and he took a sip, enjoying the sweet burn as they sat.
Silence settled for a few minutes as they both drank.
Then Bash rubbed his forehead with his thumb and finger, his head tilting down. “That was so awful.”
Dylan looked over at him. “It was.” He remembered the way Eliza had curled into him.
Bash lifted his head again, his face stony. “A ring of thieves stealing from the Crown? Endangering all of the sisters? I thought I was protecting them from one angry uncle. But this…”
Dylan winced. That was an excellent point. Why didn’t he think of these things? He hadn’t considered beyond Eliza being in danger. “Are you going to listen to him? Keep the girls out of society?”
Bash shook his head again. “I don’t even know. On the one hand, we should keep up appearances. They’re safe because no one knows we know anything. If we suddenly change our behavior…”
“It’s like the sisters know about their father and the danger.” Damn. Bash had a point. He ran his hand through his hair. How were they going to keep them safe? When had he counted himself in this?
Then he snorted into his whisky. The moment he’d agreed to go to a dawn meeting with an unwed woman, he’d firmly placed himself amidst the drama.
“I need you to help me, Menace,” Bash said, closing his eyes.
His friend looked tired. “How?” He gripped his glass tighter.
Bash rolled his glass between his hands. “Well.” His hands stilled as he turned to look at Dylan. “You could marry Eliza. That would help.”
He choked on the whisky sliding down his throat and just managed to push out the word, “How?” once again as he attempted to keep the drink from spraying out of his mouth.
Bash glared. “For starters I’d have another well-titled lord aiding me in keeping them safe. As Carrington Shipping gets rolled into our assets, it becomes less appealing to other men to steal from us.”
“Not true. If Dishonor is correct, they are stealing from the Crown. If they’ll take from the Prince Regent…”
“Then we have a powerful ally.”
“You’re using the word we,” Dylan bit out. “You’re a duke. You don’t need me.”
“Let me say it a different way. Eliza is now an heiress. Not only would you be helping your friend, but you’d get what you wanted as well. I’ve seen the way you look at her. The way you just held her. You had to know there would be consequences for such familiarity.”
He grimaced. A woman as smart and savvy as Eliza would hate the way he drained her to finance his needs. She’d hate him at the end of it. Hell, his own parents didn’t even like him. When they’d been alive. “And what
about what Eliza wants? You heard her. She doesn’t want to be tied down by marriage.”
“All the more reason to marry you.”
“How do you figure?” He took another large drink. The long night made the alcohol go straight to his head and he rubbed the heel of his hand along his forehead.
“You’ll give her protection now and freedom later. Together, we’ll insulate her sisters. Quietly find them matches that can be trusted with the business as we help Dishonor identify this ring. And by the way…” Bash leaned forward. “Carrington Shipping isn’t like a dowry that brings in a one-time payment. You’ll make money, year over year. It’s better than any other potential bride price.”
A wave of understanding made him sit back in his chair. Bloody hell, Bash was right.
He pushed his fingers into his eyes. “I need to talk with Eliza. She should know…everything.”
“Smart choice.” Bash reached over and clasped him on the back. “See? You’re perfect for her.”
He shook his head.
He’d seen disdain in his mother’s eyes until the day she’d died whenever she looked at him. It would kill him to see the same emotion reflected in Eliza’s.
He was the furthest thing from perfect he could be.
Chapter Seven
Eliza slipped into her room, too tired to even undress.
“Here. Let me help you,” Isabella said as she rose from Eliza’s bed.
“What are you doing here?” Eliza asked, grateful to see her sister.
Isabella winked. “You taught me this trick, remember? I knew you’d be tired so I warmed your bed for you.”
Eliza sighed with relief. “Thank goodness.”
Isabella worked off Eliza’s clothing one piece at a time. “Did you learn anything?”
“More than I wanted to know,” Eliza whispered. How did she tell her sister that her father was dead?
Isabella stopped and wrapped her arms about Eliza. “Father’s gone forever, isn’t he?”
“I think so,” Eliza answered, her voice trembling.
“Do you know how?” Isabella whispered, squeezing Eliza tight.
“I forgot to ask, but I know his secretary witnessed the event.” Eliza shivered.
“He wasn’t the most present father. I know you loved him but…”
“I did. But now, I realize just how much he left us alone and how much was foisted on you. We almost gave up our very lives for the sake of the business.”
Eliza thought she’d cried all the tears but her eyes misted again. Because her sister actually understood. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Isabella gave a heartfelt sigh. “At least it’s over and we know the truth.”
* * *
“Isabella,” Eliza said, the warning ringing in her voice. “It’s so far from over that it isn’t—” She couldn’t continue, not now. Sitting down, she pulled off her boots and slid into the bed. She was only half undressed, but she didn’t even care. “I’ll explain everything after I’ve had some sleep. I’m so tired.”
Isabella slid into the bed next to her sister, wrapping her arms about her. “I understand. Get some rest. You can tell me everything when you wake.”
Eliza let out a long sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“I don’t want to marry.” Eliza let out a long, jaw splitting yawn.
Her sister held her tighter. “And what will you do instead?”
“Be an adventurer.”
Isabella’s breath blew into the back of Eliza’s hair. “Then I shall miss you terribly while you’re gone. I always knew you were the strength of this family. So like father.”
Was she leaving her family like he’d done? “I’m not like him,” Eliza fired back. “I’m here when my family needs me. I’ve always been here. He left me to do his work years ago.”
Isabella squeezed her sister harder. “I meant that you have his spirit. And you’re right. We’ve been so lucky to have you to protect us. You deserve whatever future you dream of and I’ll support you no matter what.”
Her shoulders sagged. Why didn’t those words sit well with Eliza?
She wanted to go away, didn’t she?
But as her sister pressed close, she thought for the first time about how much she’d miss her family. How much family meant to her. Had always meant. What if they needed her while she was gone? What if they didn’t?
They’d have husbands. Children.
And she’d miss them, she realized. She’d been so focused on breaking free she hadn’t considered what she’d lose.
“Isabella.” She looked back at her sister. “Your kindness is as deep as your strength.”
“So is yours.” Then her sister slipped from the bed. “I’ve gotten it all warm for you. It’s time for you to sleep. When you wake, you’ll tell me everything, won’t you?”
“Absolutely,” she answered, closing her eyes. She couldn’t keep them open another second. “Thanks for being patient.”
Isabella chuckled. “Look at you. How could I not?”
Then Eliza pried her eyes open and lifted her head. “If I tell you, will you share with Emily and Abigail? I don’t think…” She wasn’t sure she had the strength today to tell her sisters they couldn’t court, something they’d been enjoying a great deal, and that they’d lost their father.
Isabella gave her a tight nod. “Whatever you need.”
Eliza shook her head before laying back down on her pillow.
In the past few months, Isabella had become Eliza’s rock.
Her sister’s loving presence had filled Eliza in her weaker moments. Like now. “Thank you.” Then she lifted up, pushing her hands down in the mattress. “I love you.”
Isabella stopped and then turned back, crossing the room and tossing her arms around Eliza. “I love you too.” She held her sister tight. “No matter what you just learned, you know we’re going to get through this together. Right?”
Silly tears sprang to her eyes again.
Perhaps Eliza wasn’t as strong as she’d always believed. She certainly wasn’t now. But that’s what family was for. Would this have all been different if her father had believed in their bond? If he’d confided in them? Stayed and faced things together?
She eased back from Isabella. “You are the best sister a woman could ask for.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” Isabella gave her one last squeeze. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk in a few hours.”
Eliza nodded and slid down into the bed. Sleep overtook her before the door had even closed.
Dylan woke trying to figure out where the hell he was. He sat up and looked around, scrubbing his eyes.
Then he remembered.
After a few drinks, Bash had invited him to sleep in a guest room rather than travel home.
But as he climbed from the bed, it occurred to him that Eliza was here. Under this roof. Likely sleeping too.
What did she look like when she was in bed? A vision of her brown hair spread across his pillow with her arms opened and relaxed, welcoming him, filled his thoughts and he scrubbed his face. He should have gone home.
Because a few hours of sleep had cleared his mind and left him…wanting.
He wanted Eliza.
He’d stripped off his clothing and sat with his bare feet on the floor, cradling his head while he went through all the reasons why he shouldn’t take her. It would be selfish. But then a voice argued, he’d be helping her too.
He’d never done anything good in his life.
But then a new thought occurred to him. If he thought marrying Carmella was a good idea and Eliza a bad one, perhaps he should marry Eliza after all. Do the opposite of what he thought was the correct choice. Surely there was logic in that. At least with his record of poor decision-making.
He rose, then began to wash and then dress, grimacing at his clothes from the night before. They’d have to do.
He made his way to breakfast, hoping to find the room emp
ty.
He was still trying to decipher his feelings, Bash’s words, and Eliza’s wishes.
But as he approached the room, he heard people talking. Females. Soft worried voices, cutting into him like the tip of the blade.
“Father’s truly gone?”
“No more courting?”
“Running a business? We’re not suited to that.” Then a pause. “Well, perhaps Eliza is.”
“I’m not.” Eliza. Her voice held its usual strength. Louder, a mezzo soprano that was more sultry and confident than any of her sisters. But underneath that…was it just him or did he hear a new brittleness in the tone? “But Bash is. Unfortunately for him, he’s got a rather lot to worry about.”
Isabella chimed in. “If this man…Dishonor, had been running the business, surely he can continue. Do we need to do anything?”
Silence fell.
Finally someone cleared her throat. “What do you think, Eliza? Do we need to do anything?”
“Yes. Something. But I don’t know what yet. I’ve met this man twice and he kept his identity secret from us for months. I’ll not trust him with our entire future. Not yet.”
“It’s not Isabella’s whole future and it won’t be ours once we marry. I say we keep courting.”
He shook his head. He was eavesdropping. Pulling his coat straighter, he stepped into the doorway. “Excuse me, ladies.”
They all turned toward him, plates of uneaten food sitting in front of each of them.
“My lord.” Eliza rose and then gave a quick curtsy. “Please join us.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said, not moving into the room. “His Grace and I ended up talking until the sun was well into the sky and it seemed easier to stay than to travel home.”
“Oh no, you’re not interrupting at all.” Isabella waved him forward. She’d once posed as a man and dealt cards in his gaming hell so they knew each other quite well, and her easy smile made him more comfortable now. “Come eat. It will be a good reminder for us to eat as well.”
Dylan gave a stiff nod. “I don’t mean to insert myself. But His Grace and I were discussing your very topic last night. What Dishonor said was that he was worried some of your potential suitors might be part of the crime ring. They’d hope to marry you so that they might gain ownership of the business, making it easier to continue to pilfer from the books.”
Marquess of Menace Page 5