The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London Book 3)

by Adele Clee

  Vane emerged. He was on his knees, his chest heaving. Another wave smashed against his shoulders and yet somehow, he scrambled to his feet.

  Lillian ran towards them. She reached Mackenzie first, gripped his cold hand and rubbed it affectionately. “Thank you, Mackenzie.”

  “You’re welcome, lass.”

  She ran into Vane’s arms. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Vane brushed the stray tendrils from her face. “I failed you once, twice if you count what happened at Vauxhall, but I swore I would never fail you again.”

  “You have never failed me. You have always been the most loving and loyal brother a lady could want.”

  His blue lips trembled. “And you are far too forgiving.”

  Her smile faded when her gaze dropped to his bare chest. Other than in their youth, she had never seen him without a shirt, but the scars shocked her. “What happened to you?” He had one slash mark across his ribs, one across his bicep, two smaller nicks on his chest.

  “It doesn’t matter. It is nothing for you to concern yourself with.”

  “Who did this to you?”

  “Pay it no mind.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her to the safety of the beach.

  Doyle lay stretched out. Fabian checked the man’s pulse and peered into his eyes. He turned him onto his side and thumped his back but to no avail. Fabian stood and shook his head. “He’s dead. One of us will need to head to the mainland to alert the authorities.”

  Ursula’s gasp spoke of relief.

  “I’ll go,” Mackenzie said. “But first, I’ll take the body to the warehouse on the dock.”

  “Wait. Check his pocket.” Lillian’s pulse raced at the prospect of seeing the precious necklace again.

  Fabian bent over the lifeless figure and rummaged in his trouser pocket. He withdrew the chain and delved deeper to find her treasure. Clutching the items in his hand, he strode over to her and placed them carefully in her palm.

  With trembling fingers she tried to open the clasp, but her hands were too cold.

  “Allow me.” Fabian prised it open. He stared at the image before handing it to her, and then he cupped her cheek and smiled. “She’s as beautiful as her mother.”

  It took Lillian a moment to rouse the courage to look. Water had seeped inside to wet the edges, but the image remained intact. She closed it quickly and clutched it to her chest.

  “We should all head back to the castle,” Fabian said. “We need a hot meal, a roaring fire and dry clothes. We can alert the authorities tomorrow.”

  Ursula hung her head. “What about me?”

  “You will come with us for now until I decide what to do with you.”

  Vane threw his wet shirt over his head and shoved his feet into his boots. “I’ll help Mackenzie move the body and meet you back at the castle.”

  Fabian inclined his head. “As you wish.”

  “I’ll go with Mackenzie, my lady,” Mary said, “unless you have need of me tonight.”

  Lillian smiled. “No, after a hot bath, I shall be fit for nothing but my bed.”

  Fabian stood beside her and took hold of her hand. “Come. We shall reconvene in the morning and discuss how best to proceed then.”

  Mackenzie hauled Doyle’s body over his shoulder and, with Ursula following sheepishly behind, Vane and Mary accompanied him to the dock.

  Once alone, Fabian took Lillian in his arms. “I cannot think of another time in my life when I’ve been so afraid. If I’d lost you—” His voice cracked.

  Despite the rain, for how could they possibly be any wetter, she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was a kiss unlike any they had shared before. It spoke of a soul-deep connection. An unbreakable bond. It spoke of a desperate need to make every second count.

  Lillian pulled away. “When I speak, can you hear me above this incessant roar?”

  “Yes, why?” He wiped the rain from her cheeks.

  “Because I want to tell you that I love you. Because I want you to know it is a love that took root long ago, one that has grown deeper over time.”

  He bent his head and touched his forehead to hers.

  “I have loved you from the moment you stuck your tongue out at me when you were eight. Perhaps even before that. There has never been anyone for me but you. You are the matching half that makes me whole.”

  “That’s rather poetic.”

  “I cannot take the credit. They are Aristophanes words, but the sentiment is mine.”

  “It is a sentiment I share.”

  They held hands and strolled back to the castle.

  “And what of the treasure?” she said. Was it all nothing more than a drunken tale? “Do you believe the Spanish hid gold here and never returned to claim it?”

  Fabian shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe. But why chase a dream when the only treasure I need is at my side? One day we will tell our children the story. It can be their legacy, their treasure to find.”

  By the time they reached the gates, the black clouds had dissipated to reveal an inky sky bright with stars.

  “And what would your philosophers say if they could comment on the night’s events?” she said as they entered their bedchamber.

  “Were they alive today, I imagine they would draw on the words of Vergil.”

  “What, that all bad fortune is conquered by endurance?”

  “No.” Fabian wrapped his arms around her waist. He pressed his lips to her cheek, trailed hot kisses down her neck. “That love conquers all.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The midday sun shone, and the waves broke calmly on the shore as Fabian and Lillian stood with Mackenzie on the landing pier.

  “Och, had a twenty-foot wave not swept me off my feet, I’d struggle to believe there’d been a storm.”

  No matter how pleasant the day, Fabian would never forget the moment he came close to losing Lillian. “Violent storms bring devastation. Thankfully, only those deserving felt the full force of nature’s wrath.” Fabian captured Lillian’s hand merely to reassure himself all was well.

  “I doubt I’ll travel in a rowboat again without taking a spare pair of breeches.” Mackenzie patted the leather satchel draped over his shoulder and winked.

  “You have the letter?”

  “Aye.”

  “Lord Trevane will accompany you when you visit the magistrate. I suggest you both make a statement. Trevane has business in London and will not want to delay.” The need to discover Estelle’s fate burned in Fabian’s chest. She had plunged into the sea with The Torrens and survived. But what then? Vane’s warning that most people had an identical counterpart failed to rouse the faintest flicker of doubt. “A speedy inquest is advisable, and so offer to ferry the coroner and the jury to the island posthaste.”

  “Aye, I’ll let Lord Trevane do the talking. I doubt anyone would refuse that man anything. Besides, the sooner they declare Doyle officially dead, the sooner I can marry Mary.”

  Lillian squeezed Fabian’s hand. “I take it she accepted your proposal.”

  “Aye.” A faint blush touched Mackenzie’s cheeks. “I think I impressed her when I charged into the sea like a Viking warrior.”

  Lillian came up on her toes, placed her hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek. The highly familiar gesture made the man’s face flame. “I wish you both well. After everything that’s happened, you deserve to be happy.”

  “Yes,” Fabian said. “Perhaps when you have a wife to occupy your time I might take my bath in peace.”

  “Having seen you rescue her ladyship from the stormy sea, there’s no fear of you drowning in the tub.” Mackenzie laughed. “Right, I’d best climb aboard. Trevane is on his way, and the lord likes things done at the click of his fingers.”

  “I’m afraid my brother lacks patience and tolerance, is often hot-tempered, but beneath it all he has a good heart.”

  Mackenzie’s gaze softened. “I know enough of men to know what ails him, lass
.”

  Lillian sighed. “Well, let’s hope in finding Estelle, he finds himself.”

  The thud of booted footsteps on the wooden pier caught their attention. Vane strode towards them, his black clothes impeccable after Heather had dried, cleaned and pressed them.

  Mackenzie said a quick goodbye, bowed and climbed down the wooden ladder to the rowboat.

  As Vane approached, he glanced at the vessel and grinned. “After witnessing my skill with an oar, I expected to be the one rowing us to the shore.”

  “After exerting yourself last night, I wasn’t sure you be up to the task.” Fabian suppressed a chuckle. “Freddie and Skinny will ferry you across to the mainland. I assume you stabled your horse in Branscombe.”

  “Yes, but now I wish I’d brought my carriage.” Vane yawned. “I hardly slept a wink last night. Whose idea was it to put me in the room next to the Scot? The man snores like a bear.”

  Fabian pursed his lips. Needing time alone with his wife, he’d wanted Vane far from their bedchamber.

  “Did you gain any information from Aubrey? Mackenzie said he gave you access to the dungeon this morning.”

  Devilish was the best way to describe Vane’s grin. “The man is nothing more than a scout though I hope you gave him a clean pair of trousers before sending him on his way.”

  An hour earlier, Isaac had taken Ursula and Aubrey to Sidmouth. Fabian wanted rid of Aubrey before the coroner came, and, quite frankly, Ursula could do whatever she pleased as long as she never set foot on the island again.

  “One look at Aubrey’s scarred face and I doubt anyone would dare comment.”

  “He has an extra bruise or two since last you saw him,” Vane said.

  “Only one or two?”

  “I used my left hand. I must give my right hand time to heal should I encounter trouble when scouring the rookeries.”

  Lord, surely that was the last place Estelle would go. “Thank you for agreeing to search for Estelle.” Fabian had no choice but to swallow his pride.

  Vane shrugged. “Thank Lillian. She’s the one who is rather persuasive.”

  Fabian reached into his coat pocket and removed the miniature of Estelle. “Here, you may borrow this.” He offered Vane the picture. “It has been some time since you last saw Estelle. This might help to refresh your memory.”

  Vane swallowed numerous times. His eyes glazed as he stared at Fabian’s hand. With some hesitance, which was highly uncharacteristic, he took hold of the oval frame.

  “Thank you. It may prove helpful.” He did not look at Estelle’s image but simply placed the miniature in his pocket.

  “Are you certain you don’t need my help?” There wasn’t a street or establishment in London Fabian had not searched.

  Vane shook his head. “I prefer to work alone.”

  “I have men posted in Paris and Calais. Another man in Dover.” Fabian retrieved a note from his pocket and handed it to Vane. “Should you wish to contact them, here are their names and directions.”

  “Once I’ve spoken to the coroner, I shall head to Dover and speak to your man. I see little point going to France until I’ve exhausted all other possibilities.” Vane cleared his throat. “You understand that the chance of finding her is slim at best.”

  “Of finding her alive, you mean.” Fabian could tell from Vane’s expression that he believed Estelle had perished on The Torrens. “She is out there. I know it. Don’t ask me how or why.”

  Vane said nothing and simply inclined his head.

  “Will you remain at the house in Berkeley Square?” Lillian said.

  “For the time being, though I shall send word should my circumstances change.”

  “Please.” Fabian was not used to begging. “Should you see Estelle, inform me immediately.”

  Vane gave a curt nod. “I should go. There is much to do.”

  Lillian rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him. “While I know you must try to find Estelle, part of me wants you to stay.” She sniffed. “We have been through so much these last two years.”

  Vane cradled her cheeks in his hands and wiped a tear away with his thumb. “You belong here, anyone can see that, though I advise you to refrain from swimming when the sea is rough, and the tide is high.”

  Lillian gave a weak chuckle. “But I want you to be happy as I am.”

  “We all have a path to follow. Mine deviates from yours, but that changes nothing between us.” He glanced briefly at Fabian. “Ravenscroft will care for you in my absence. You will have a family, a house filled with love. That is all I have ever wanted for you.”

  Fabian watched them embrace, wondering if the day would ever come where he might say the same to his sister.

  “Now, if I don’t get in that boat, Mackenzie will grow tired of waiting and is liable to swim to the shore.”

  Lillian stepped back and sucked in a breath. “Then go now. We shall visit soon.”

  Vane turned to Fabian. “Keep her safe. I hold you personally responsible for her welfare.”

  “Of course.” Fabian inclined his head. He drew Lillian close as they stood and watched the rowboat move away from the pier.

  “Do you think he will find her, Fabian?” Lillian wrapped her arms around his waist. “Do you think he will ever be happy?”

  He wanted to believe both were possible. “The truth is I don’t know. But if marrying you has taught me anything, it’s that the mind is a powerful thing. Belief is everything.” Fabian only hoped he had enough to make up for Vane’s misgivings.

  She looked up at him. “Do you say that because you had faith that we would weather the storm?”

  “I say that because I called you and you came.”

  She drew her brows together in confusion.

  “Come,” he said. “Let me show you what I mean.”

  Together, they ambled along the clifftop path, stopping only to watch the rowboat disappear into the distance. Once at the castle, he asked Lillian to wait for him while he rushed to the bedchamber and picked up a book. Then he took her hand and drew her up to the roof of the keep.

  Despite the mild weather, they were so high the wind ruffled his hair. He flicked to the relevant page and handed her the book.

  “You see,” he said. “I knew long ago we belonged together.”

  Lillian scanned the relevant passage, her eyes growing wide.

  “Read the last line aloud.” He wanted to hear the words fall from her lips.

  “It says … each of us is a matching half of a human whole… each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”

  “And what did I write?” He remembered the moment clearly, a cold, miserable night at sea when he sat alone in his cabin.

  “You wrote my name.” She brought the book to her chest and hugged it. “You wrote Lillian Sandford.”

  “I have stood up here many times and thought of you.”

  She shook her head. “Why didn’t you say so the night you first brought me here?”

  “Because I am a fool, a man once blinded by bitterness. Because for a moment I lost faith and feared rejection.” He reached up into her hair and pulled out the pins. The wind took the rich, ebony locks and blew them free. “I hope I have gone some way to make amends. I hope I have satisfied your quest for freedom.”

  “It is not freedom I seek anymore. I want to share everything with you. I want you to stake your claim on me body and soul.”

  “Then know that I, too, am yours to own.” He smiled and gestured to the vast ocean. “Look out and tell me what you see.”

  She stared at him, an intense look of love and longing that warmed his blood. “How can I look at anything else when the magnificence of the man before me commands my attention?”

  How different things were now to the night she arrived.

  “Sailors stare at the horizon longing to be somewhere else. Those with sorrow in their hearts stare at the sky longing for an epiphany.”

  “And what do those in love do?”

&nb
sp; He drew her closer, took the book from her hand and threw it to the floor. “Allow me to show you.”

  Their lips met in a kiss that spoke of a deep abiding love. A love that could heal broken hearts. A love that promised hope for the future.

  THE END

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