The duke must have realized Adam’s discomfiture, for he returned his attention to the window, the bright light caressing him. “Then why are you here?”
Adam stilled the fierce thump of his heart. “I need your help, Damian.”
“I can see that.”
Adam slowly shifted his weight and winced. He set the empty glass aside and grabbed his head, groggy with fatigue. He stilled, willing the dizziness away.
The vertigo under control, Adam said, “There is a woman…Evelyn…she is in danger.”
Damian looked away from the landscape. “What sort of danger?”
“She is kidnapped and imprisoned against her will.”
The duke appeared stumped. “Why do you seek my help? Why don’t you report the kidnapping to the authorities?”
“Because you are the ‘Duke of Rogues.’”
The duke’s eyes narrowed…and glowed. “I am the former ‘Duke of Rogues.’”
Yes, the duke had changed. Not in years, but in spirit. Adam could see the light in the man’s eyes: a light long lost under their father’s cruel hand. But now that light was restored. Thanks to the duchess and the couple’s child, Adam had learned.
“Men still fear you,” said Adam.
“Men fear the law, too.”
“Not all men.” The thought of him stirred the bile in Adam’s belly. “Not the devil holding Evelyn hostage.”
“Do you care for the woman?”
Adam was disarmed by the blunt query—and the almost hopeful note in his brother’s voice. “I offered to protect her. There is nothing more between us.”
“I see.” The duke clasped his hands behind his back. “Protect her from whom?”
“Her fiancé.”
Damian lifted a black brow. “Now I really see. I’m afraid I can’t help you, Adam.”
“You don’t understand, Damian.”
“I think I do. You’ve set your heart on a woman who belongs to another man, and from the look of your battered bones, her fiancé does not approve of your attachment.”
“I have not set my heart on her!” Adam punched the settee. “My heart still belongs to Teresa, and it always will!”
In response to the outburst, Damian was quiet. He appeared grieved by the allusion to Teresa. Adam sensed a twinge in his heart, too. But he had not come to lament about the past.
“Damian, Evelyn will die if I don’t do something.”
“Die?”
“Her fiancé is a fiend. He already murdered her sister; he will murder her, too!”
“Are you sure?”
Adam pointed to his bandaged torso. “Look at what he had done to me.”
The duke said dryly, “I would do the same if you tried to steal my wife.”
“It’s not like that, Damian. I have to steal Evelyn away. How can I leave her with a man like Father?”
Something flickered in the duke’s eyes, a memory perhaps. He appeared more perturbed. “Tell me what happened.”
Adam recounted the dreadful tale, every detail.
“Her father sold her?” said the duke. “To the man who murdered her sister?”
The darkness in Damian’s eyes was akin to a black flame. Adam sensed the paternal rage in him, the disbelief that a father could do such a thing to a child.
“Now do you understand why I have to save her?” said Adam.
The duke slowly nodded. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “We were separated after the kidnapping.”
“Who is her fiancé?”
“I don’t know that, either.”
“Well, what do you know?”
“That her fiancé is rich and powerful, and he keeps a band of loyal henchmen around to do his every bidding.”
Damian snorted. “He does sound like Father.”
The former Duke of Wembury had housed a castle full of nefarious devils, too. Men to guard their mother and ensure she didn’t escape the keep. Men to torment him and Damian.
Adam said, “Will you help me?”
It was palpable, the energy between them. Once they were brothers, close friends even, but there was now a distance, an unfamiliarity to their bond. Adam had a desire to dispel the strangeness between them…yet it was a wistful wish. He had stabbed the duke. It was an unforgivable act. Adam’s desire for repentance and reconciliation was his alone. The duke surely did not give one whit about him anymore.
“I suppose I must help you,” said Damian.
Adam had been prepared to beg the duke for assistance. He had not anticipated the man’s ready accord. But perhaps Damian’s paternal instinct had been riled? Evelyn was a woman lost, without a caring father. Her predicament might have inspired the duke to acquiesce, for it wasn’t brotherly fondness that had stirred him into action. Adam was certain about that. Still he whispered, “Thank you.”
Damian eyed his brother with curiosity. After a brief pause, he said, “Do you remember anything else about Evelyn? Her surname?”
“I don’t know her true identity; she didn’t tell me.”
“How did the two of you meet?”
“I saved her from drowning,” Adam recounted, reflecting upon that stormy summer day by the seashore. “She tried to end her life.”
“I believe I understand the woman,” said the duke. “Her fiancé doesn’t sound like a prince.”
“I know.” Adam brushed his fingers through his mussed hair. “He’s a devil. And she’s with him right now! How do we find her?”
“I can write to my solicitor. Ask him to make some inquiries in Town. Perhaps we can—”
“No, it will take too long.” Adam bowed his head and grabbed his throbbing temples. “The couple will celebrate their engagement tonight before setting sail for the mainland. I will lose her forever, then.”
“Well, what else do you remember?”
Still a bit woozy, Adam rubbed his aching brow. He was forgetting something, he could sense it. “Her fiancé is a foreigner.”
“What else?”
“He likes beautiful women.”
“Keep thinking. We need something more tangible.”
“Shit,” Adam hissed, and pressed his palms into his burning eyes. “I know I’m forgetting something…Vadik!”
“What?”
“Her fiancé’s name.”
Damian stared, bewildered.
“What’s the matter, Damian? Surely we can find the couple now. There must be an announcement in the paper, something to indicate the engagement party.”
Damian circled his desk and shuffled through the clutter of papers.
“What are you doing, Damian?”
But the duke did not respond. He searched sheet after sheet, sparing each a brief glance before eyeing another one. At length he picked up a card and paused.
“Damian?”
The duke approached and handed Adam the card. “I think you should read this.”
Adam blinked, willing his eyes to focus. Soon the words sharpened and he scanned the elegant script:
The Earl of Bewley requests the presence of their Graces,
The Duke and Duchess of Wembury
At the engagement ball of his daughter…
“Lady Evelyn Waye,” Adam whispered. Blood thumped harder in his head. “My Evie?”
He was privy to the fact that she had once been comfortable in life, but he’d never suspected her a member of the peerage. It simply had not occurred to him that society would allow a lady to fall so deep into ignominy, even with a dishonorable father. How could no one offer her assistance?
“Read on,” said Damian.
Bemused, Adam gathered his wits and scanned the invitation again. “…engagement ball…Lady Evelyn Waye…her fiancé…Prince Vadik of Moravia.” Adam blinked. “Vadik is a prince?”
“A very powerful one, too,” said Damian.
Adam struggled to maintain his composure. There was a buzzing sound in his ears, making it hard to concentrate. “How so?”
&nbs
p; “I don’t suppose you’ve been following the political climate of late?”
Quietly he said, “No, I’ve been otherwise engaged these last few years.” Chasing pirates. “What’s happening abroad?”
“Greece is revolting against the Ottoman Turks. The empire is in danger of collapsing, and without the sultan to hold back Russia, Tsar Alexander will advance on the Balkans.”
“Where does Vadik fit into all this?”
“He is the younger brother of King Tavo of Moravia, who formed an alliance with England. Moravia will stand against Russia should the Ottoman Empire fall. Moravia is an important ally, Adam. Our king himself will be in attendance at the engagement ball to show his support for the Moravian monarchy.” Damian crouched to better eye his brother. “To steal Prince Vadik’s bride will be akin to treason. We can’t go after Evelyn.”
Adam stared at his brother. The rush of blood to his brain made the buzzing sound in his ears even louder. “I understand.”
“Do you?”
He nodded. “Give me the location of the ball.”
The duke sighed and snatched the invitation from his brother’s hand. “I see you do not understand the gravity of the situation.”
“You have a wife and child, Damian. You cannot commit treason and lose your head. But I have no one, nothing to lose. I will go after Evelyn alone.”
The duke stalked back over to the desk and dropped the card on the table. “It’s not that simple, Adam.”
“It is,” he said with confidence. “I promised to protect Evelyn, and I will.”
“You might lose your life.”
“So be it. But if I don’t go after Evelyn, she will surely lose hers.”
Damian took in another taxing breath. “There will be guards, you know? How do you intend to get inside the house without an invitation?”
“I’ll sneak inside.”
“And if you’re caught?”
Adam stood—and wavered—dizziness blinding him again. “It’s a risk I have to take.”
The duke approached him and with very little effort knocked him back across the lounge. “You’re not going anywhere; you need to rest.”
“I’m fine,” Adam gritted.
“The devil you are.” The duke pointed to his scarred and bandaged torso. “You have burn marks across your chest and a crack in your head. You won’t be much good to Evelyn if you collapse at Vadik’s door. Besides, you can’t save the girl alone.”
Rankled, Adam demanded, “Then what do you suggest I do?”
“I suggest you attend the ball…with me.”
Adam softened his ornery disposition. “I can’t ask you to come with me, Damian. The risk is too great to a man in your position.”
“Don’t remind me,” he growled, and returned to the study desk. “But I won’t see you hang.”
Adam’s pulse ticked faster at the unexpected assertion. Why would Damian care whether he lived or died?
Because I love you.
Damian’s words, uttered four years ago during their last grisly encounter, echoed in Adam’s head.
But he dismissed the sentimental memory. Four years was a long time for a temper to fester—and for brotherly regard to turn to brotherly rage.
So why did Damian care?
Perhaps he was thinking of their mother? He might want to spare her the distress of losing a son. It was a far more likely explanation than the absurd notion that the duke was worried about him.
Adam put aside his confusion to inquire, “What about your wife? The invitation includes her. It might appear suspicious if you bring along your brother instead of the duchess.”
“The duchess cannot attend the ball; she is in confinement.”
Adam’s thoughts whirled, danced together in a mad rush. The duchess was expecting another child?
“I didn’t intend to attend the ball myself,” said Damian. “Without Belle by my side, I can’t abide such dull affairs.”
The cramp in Adam’s heart took his breath away, the ache for someone at his side almost crippling.
“But you can’t do this alone,” said the duke. “You will never get inside the well-guarded house without me. Besides, I am the former ‘Duke of Rogues,’ am I not? No one will dare to question me—or my choice of companions.”
Adam blinked to dispel the longing in his breast. “Companions?”
“We cannot storm the dwelling without help.”
At the thought of a siege, Lieutenant Eric Faraday came to mind. “I know a good man, Damian. A naval shipman. Many sailors, in truth. Loyal men—”
The duke lifted a hand to silence him. “Even disguised sailors wearing fine breeches will appear out of place in mannerism; we will quickly be discovered. Besides, there is no time to round up the sailors. The ball is set to begin in a matter of hours. I’m afraid we need more timely—and professional—help. And as much as it pains me to do this…”
Damian moved to the door and opened it. “Jenkins.”
The butler quickly appeared; he must have been waiting just outside the room. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Please fetch my brothers-in-law and escort them to the study.”
Chapter 14
Adam observed the duke and noted the man’s scowl. “Your brothers-in-law?”
“Yes,” said Damian darkly. “Four maddening men who insist on making my life miserable. Punishment for marrying their sister, you know?”
In truth, Adam wasn’t privy to the antagonism of in-laws. His late wife an only child, he had shirked the merging of two headstrong families.
“They’re here at the castle,” said the duke. “They want to be present for the birthing, so you can imagine the rows we have over my wife’s welfare.”
“Then why have you summoned them to the study?”
“Because we need their help.”
“I see.” Adam ignored the dreadful ache in his head to inquire, “And will they help us?”
“Yes—once I deign to ask for assistance. It will give them great pleasure to hear me admit I need their support.”
Adam was dubious about such an alliance. “Is there no goodwill between you?”
“My in-laws believe I should be shot.” Damian tweaked a cuff link. “What do you think?”
“I think I should go to the ball alone.”
“No,” said the duke in a simple yet emphatic manner. “You will not.”
There was an autocratic air to the succinct command. The duke was accustomed to giving orders and being obeyed…but there was something more in his countenance. A regard for Adam’s well-being?
Impossible.
And yet that look in his eyes…
The thunder of approaching footfalls persuaded both men to glance toward the door.
“Adam, I should warn you about something.”
“What is it?”
But the duke had no opportunity to explain.
Without so much as a ceremonious knock, the study door burst open, and four towering brutes with soot black hair and piercing blue eyes swaggered into the room.
“I hear we’ve been summoned,” said the biggest of the lot. “What the devil do you want, Your Grace?”
As if someone had picked up an hourglass and turned it upside-down, Adam was transported back through time. He stood aboard the Hercules, disgruntled, observing a band of brigands retreat across the ship’s deck—with his fob watch!
Adam eyed the fob watch dangling from the big brute’s vest pocket.
Black Hawk!
Adam saw red.
He lunged off the furniture, his injuries dismissed by the blinding effect of savage rage. He knocked the pirate captain off his feet and pounded on him with his fists.
“You son of a bitch!” cried Adam.
There was an instant uproar.
Between the scuffle of arms and legs, and the duke’s autocratic voice getting into the mix of things, Adam was lost to the chaos of the moment. He swiped at Black Hawk with nary a thought to the added harm he was
doing to his already battered bones.
Adam could feel the hard pinch in his arm. Someone was tugging him away from the fray. Quickly he grabbed the fob watch from Black Hawk before he was pulled through the tangle of hands and feet and thrust up against the wall.
The duke pinned his forearm under Adam’s chin.
Gasping, Adam struggled against his brother with wild resolve. “Your in-laws are pirates?”
“A travesty, I know,” the duke said dryly.
Black Hawk was back on his feet. He righted his rumpled clothes, wiped his lip, slightly swelling, and glared at Adam with murderous intent.
“Is this why you summoned us, Damian?” the pirate captain growled. “For a bloody row?”
“No!” said the duke before he pinned his steel blue eyes on his brother, and whispered, “I know you’re angry, Adam, but think of Evelyn.”
Adam sobered. His heart still beat at a swift canter, but he resisted the impulse to snap the corsair’s neck.
“Then why did you send for us?” gritted Black Hawk.
“Aye, Damian, what the devil’s going on?”
Adam eyed the other pirate. He had matured in six years, his boyish features and youthful structure more developed, but he smacked of the same irksome smugness that had riled Adam all those years ago. “You filched the watch from me, you bloody cutthroat.”
The scamp beamed with pride at the appellation “cutthroat.” “I thought you looked familiar.”
Adam was gripped by a profound urge to flatten the scalawag’s nose.
“My brother and I need your help,” said the duke.
“Brother?” echoed Black Hawk.
Adam shouted, “Like hell!”
He struggled against the duke in opposition. Adam was not going to trust a bunch of wily buccaneers to rescue Evelyn. The dishonorable brutes would foil everything.
The duke pressed his brother back against the wall. “Think about it, Adam. Who better to defeat the prince than a band of scheming cutthroats?”
Black Hawk returned dryly, “I’m flattered you think so highly of us.”
But Adam loathed the idea—however reasonable—with every drop of blood in his veins. For four frustrating years he had hunted the corsairs, seeking justice for their dastardly raid. How was he to overlook their foul habits? Even trust the scoundrels?
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