There was no chance she would allow Colin to depart Sheerness without proof, one way or the other.
It meant a great deal to him—and, surprisingly, to Ophelia, too.
“Thank you, Mr. Ackerson,” Colin said curtly. “We will not monopolize any more of your time this day.”
The man smiled, raising his ink-stained hand and taking hold of Colin’s, giving it a healthy shake. Next, he turned to Ophelia and bowed low.
“It was an honor to meet Fair Wind’s grandson and wife, I assure you.” He nodded, sending his hair back into his eyes. “It was lovely to make your acquaintance, Lady Hawke.”
“Oh, no—“
“That is not—“
Ophelia and Colin spoke at the same time, but both laughed at Ackerson’s mistake.
She took a step closer to Colin and set her hand on his arm. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Ackerson. Do have a lovely day.”
Tugging lightly on his arm, Ophelia turned Colin toward the door and proceeded back into the morning sun.
They walked only a few steps before Colin pulled her to a halt.
“Why did you allow him to think us wed?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
She couldn’t admit that she thought the title “Lady Hawke” sounded appealing, nor would she admit she’d dreamed of just that thing the previous night, though Ophelia hadn’t remembered it until a moment before.
Colin stepped in front of her, and she lifted her chin to look him straight in the eyes. Before leaving London, she would have been reduced to a mumbling mess with pink-stained cheeks at such a misspoken comment. But not now, not in Sheerness…and not with Colin.
Something had altered her in the last day or so—truly, she’d noticed it begin the day she eavesdropped on Lord Hawke in Oliver’s Book Shoppe.
Ophelia leaned up on her tiptoes, and before she could change her mind, placed her lips against his. He remained still, likely in shock, for only the span of two heartbeats. They were Ophelia’s rapid heartbeats, but two nonetheless, before his lips softened and parted, beginning to move against hers.
It was not the private moment from the previous night. It was not the chaste kiss she’d thought to give him to stop his line of questioning or rampant thoughts. And it certainly was not the harmless gesture of a friend.
Before she knew what was happening, her hands clutched his shoulders, and his arms encircled her, pulling her against his muscular chest. The midsection of a man who toiled and knew the hard work of the sea—or perhaps gained his daily exercise in the stables or working the land.
It was the most peculiar thought at such a grand moment.
Her first kiss.
Ophelia’s fingers released their grip on his shoulders, and her palms slowly drifted down to his chest, and the mere inch separating them.
She allowed him to set the pace of their kiss, their lips moving together in a slow, sedate rhythm, his hands kneading her lower back in the same movements. It was then that Ophelia remembered Luci’s first kiss with Montrose—if one could call it that—and she slipped her tongue across Colin’s lower lip.
She was rewarded with a deep moan.
Yes, if she remembered correctly, Montrose had been so lost in pleasure he hadn’t realized Luci was about to bite him for his impertinence.
But Ophelia had no such plans.
Actually, she had no plans at all.
Beyond this moment.
Beyond this embrace.
Beyond this kiss.
She did not worry about her parents’ wrath at her fleeing London. She was no longer disheartened by her friends leaving for Scotland without her. She was beyond fretting about where they’d next look for Fair Wind’s past. And neither did she believe all men were like Lord Abercorn, a danger to women. Colin was most assuredly not a scoundrel or a rake—as her friends had learned about Montrose and Torrington.
Ophelia sighed, pressing herself closer to him and reaching her arms up and around his neck.
In this moment, Tilda was not gone, her first London Season was not shrouded in mourning, and everything about being in Colin’s arms was right. She didn’t long to expose dangerous men of the ton. She felt no urge to be the champion of all young women. She was not living on the outside of Luci’s and Edith’s friendship.
No, she was with Colin…and he was holding her close, their lips meeting and moving together as if they’d been born for this moment. As long as he was with her, nothing else mattered.
Chapter 18
With the sun beaming on his back and the ocean breeze playing with his hair, Colin pulled Ophelia ever closer. Her petite size melded perfectly against him, her bosom pressing into his chest as his hands explored her backside. He was helpless to do anything else as her tongue slowly slid across his lower lip once more, his moan deeper than the last.
The woman was a temptress, a sorceress, a bewitching nymph in ladies’ clothing.
And Colin wanted her enchantments focused solely on him.
Today. Tomorrow. And every day thereafter.
How had he ever lived without this?
Bloody hell, he didn’t even know what this was.
Without thinking, he reached up and uncoiled her arms from around his neck and stepped back. But he knew it was a mistake when he looked down at her plump, kiss-bruised lips and her wide-eyed stare of desire. At some point, long tendrils of auburn hair had escaped her coiffure and hung about her face and shoulders. Everything about the woman screamed heat…and passion…and utter oblivion.
Her large, blue eyes turned blank, the fire dying quickly as her chin fell to her chest before she looked away from him toward the ocean beyond in the harbor.
He placed his finger under her chin and tried to bring her gaze back to his, but she pulled away and cleared her throat.
“I believe we have one final place to search.” Her tone was raspy, as if she’d just woken from a deep slumber—or barely escaped the throes of passion without getting burned. “Shall we request directions?”
Had she been unaffected by it all, or was she hiding pain he’d unwittingly caused?
Bloody hell, but they were only several hundred feet from the fish market where people came and went. Anyone could have seen them. In fact, Mr. Ackerson had a perfect view from his front window. The man would think nothing of a couple kissing, especially since he was under the mistaken impression that they were wed.
Colin glanced around them, rubbing the back of his neck to relieve the sudden tension threatening to take over. No one paid them any mind, no one halted and gawked at the pair of them in a scandalous embrace.
“Mayhap it is best we start back for London,” he sighed. It was past time he returned her to her home before he caused her any further harm. If they remained any longer in Sheerness, they might be forced into another night away from London. After their kiss, Colin doubted he’d be able to turn her away—or remain in command of his own longings—for another long night. “It is unlikely we will find anything, or worse, prove Fair Wind merely a common smuggler. Going back without any new information could be a mercy for Molly.”
Ophelia swung back toward him, her glare meeting his, and he swore he saw sparks of outrage in their deep blue depths. “Molly would not give up. We cannot give up. We, at the very least, need to venture to the final place on Molly’s list. If we find nothing there, we return to Mr. Ackerson and request to speak with his father…or mayhap Molly’s cousin who sold Fair Wind’s ship. This is not over.”
He didn’t want it to be over, either; although, he was now uncertain of his motivations. Did he still seek answers for Molly and his father, or was he being selfish and only thinking of keeping Ophelia close for as long as possible?
“Lord Hawke,” she sighed, taking a step closer. Colin had the urge to recoil at her return to formality, but he held his ground. “Life is not about conquering every problem and obstacle set before you, it is about what you do when the problem is unsolvable or the obstacle seemingly insurmountable. Are y
ou prepared to return to London and tell Molly that we gave up when things became difficult?”
Colin remained stunned, staring at the woman before him. She should be unrecognizable, so at odds with the woman he thought he knew, but for some unexplainable reason, it was as if he were seeing her true self for the first time. She was giving him a gift, one she held close and allowed few others to witness.
Finally, she cast her gaze back toward the sea. “I, for one, will not return to London without something—anything. Molly disapproves of me as it is, and I will give her no other reasons to doubt my steadfast nature.”
Her words were said with an edge of steel behind them.
Ophelia believed everything she said.
Colin’s hand slipped into his pocket to retrieve the list and find their final stop. He would continue on, if not for Molly, then for Ophelia.
As much as this was his responsibility, a journey he had agreed to venture out on…this was Ophelia’s adventure. There was little doubt she needed to solve the mystery surrounding Fair Wind’s past, possibly more than even Colin did.
His fingers did not find the notes from Molly but her pendant. The familiar hunk of stone, set in silver with a long chain, was warm in the palm of his hand. He’d grown up believing his grandmama’s favored necklace held powers not of this world but of another altogether. It was pure fancy, and something Colin still believed in no matter that he’d dispelled his youth a long time back.
Colin pulled the pendant from his pocket and held it between them. It dangled in the breeze, the sun casting rays of light off its many facets.
Undoing the clasp, he stepped toward Ophelia and refastened the chain at her nape. The pendant hung low, settling between her breasts. Colin had never noticed how the red hue matched Ophelia’s hair perfectly. If he didn’t know the pendant had been specifically crafted for his grandmama by the man who loved and cherished her, Colin would believe the stone was cut and placed in its silver setting just for Ophelia.
She glanced down at the necklace. “This is Molly’s treasured pendant. I cannot…she would not approve…this is not meant for me.”
In that instant, Colin didn’t care if they were standing alone in their private chamber at the inn or the middle of a crowded London ballroom.
As she reached up to remove the necklace, Colin stilled her hands, taking them within his. “Upon reflection, I think Molly suspected this would one day belong to you.”
“But, I cannot, this is—“ she stammered, glancing from him to the pendant and back again.
“I have always been told, by both Molly and my father, that I am similar to Fair Wind in many aspects. My father thought I’d inherited his less than savory ways. My grandmama held close that I was the loyal and undaunted man Fair Wind was.” He paused, collecting his thoughts—choosing his words correctly. “Today, I wholeheartedly want to be the man who would have this precious stone cut and set for the woman he loved. I want to be the man who gave up all he loved in life to make a better future for his family—and those yet to come. With that being said, this belongs to you, Ophelia. Another thing I am most certain of is that if it hadn’t been for Molly, my grandpapa would not have been the man he was on that day he commissioned this necklace.”
Colin was terrified to look too closely at her. Would she be repelled by his words? Would she demand they return to London? Would she think him addlebrained like Molly?
He needs must get it over with, confront her without reservations; good or bad.
When he returned his stare to her, he saw both everything and nothing he’d thought to see. Her eyes were moist with gathering tears. Her cheeks were glowing, but not with embarrassment over his proclamation. The most noteworthy was that she leaned toward him, not away.
“Ophelia!” a female voice shouted over the sound of carriage wheels on the wooden planks underfoot.
“There you are! I thought we’d never find you!” another woman called.
They turned as a carriage, pulled by four large greys, halted beside them. The door flung open, and two women exited, followed closely by a pair of men dressed as if they should be in London making social rounds and only happened upon him and Ophelia while out and about.
Ophelia hurried to embrace the women; one with hair the color of night and the other with pale hair the color of spun sunlight.
Colin fought against the feeling of abandonment that crept through him.
The pair of men, completely at odds with one another in appearance much like the trio of women now exchanging hugs, pinned him with intense stares.
He wanted to demand to know who the foursome was and how in the bloody hell they had found him and Ophelia all the way in Sheerness.
It was only Ophelia’s joy at seeing the two women that kept Colin from pulling her back to his side and demanding answers from the group at large. Another pang of what could only be jealousy sparked within him as Ophelia embraced both men. The one as large as a small house slipped his arm around her and squeezed gently as she laughed. Next, the man at his side patted her shoulder before hugging her with one arm, as the tall, midnight-haired woman returned to his side.
Mercifully, Ophelia turned back to him and hurried to his side, grasping his hand and pulling him toward the group. She lifted her chin, and he nodded at her beaming smile. His irritation receded as he took in the utter transformation in her. Certainly, she was nearly always optimistic and happy, but there was something new here now, something that had been missing during their acquaintance thus far. He couldn’t look away from her as he noted the new light in her blue eyes. No longer did they appear a shrouded ocean but rather a clear, blue sky on a warm day. Anyone who could bring such sparkle to Ophelia’s eyes was worth his notice.
“Lord Hawke, Colin,”—her tone deepened with his name—“may I introduce Lady Lucianna and the Duke of Montrose?” Colin nodded to the couple. “And Lady Edith and Lord Torrington.”
“These are the friends you spoke of?” he asked, not realizing he’d said the words aloud. “Lady Lucianna, Lady Edith—it is a pleasure to meet you both.”
Colin couldn’t be certain, but he thought he heard the large man, Torrington, growl at the word pleasure used in conjunction with Lady Edith’s name. He was fine with that as he’d been ready to do battle with the two men when they’d embraced Ophelia.
“My lords.” Colin bowed stiffly to the pair. “It is also a pleasure”—he paused on the word with a smirk—“to meet you both.”
“What are you doing here?” Ophelia breathed. “You should be solidly on your way to Gretna Green.”
“We traveled as far as Northampton before Luci realized she could not wed Montrose.”
“What?” Ophelia exclaimed.
“…without you present,” Lady Edith said with a smirk. “However, when we arrived at Atholl Townhouse, your maid said you’d followed us to Scotland.”
Colin couldn’t help but allow the good cheer and banter to surround him. This type of easy, close friendship was a thing he’d been denied most of his life.
“Thank the bloody stars for Pru and Chastity.” Torrington leaned over and placed a kiss to Lady Edith’s forehead. “If they’ve learned anything from the trio of you women, it is to listen not only to what’s being said, but also what’s being avoided.”
“And that led you here?” Ophelia asked.
“No, it led us to Oliver’s Book Shoppe during the dead of night…and then here,” Montrose grumbled. “We traveled all night to reach Sheerness only an hour ago.”
“Come now, Monty,” Torrington slapped the man on the back. “It isn’t as if traveling the dark England roads at night is something new.”
“Speaking for yourself?” Montrose snapped back. “And do not call me Monty again, or you’ll find yourself harnessed to the carriage and pulling us back to London.”
“I may be as large as a bison—as you’ve so kindly called me on occasion—but I can still outrun you if needed.”
All three women giggl
ed at the exchange, even though Colin tensed with concern. The men did not appear to get along well enough to travel all the way to the Scottish border without injuring one another—either with words or fists.
“Do not mind them, Lord Hawke,” Lady Edith said, turning her kind smile on him. “We feared Ophelia might be in trouble, so we came with all due haste.”
Ophelia tensed at his side, her fingers digging into his arm.
“I am afraid it was I who was in trouble and in desperate need of help, which Lady Ophelia so kindly offered to give.” He ignored the startled looks from the two women and continued. “She has been instrumental in helping me locate information about my grandpapa’s past.”
Chapter 19
Triumph coursed through Sissy as she held the pages securely in her hands. She had the sensation of being young again, the thought of everything that would be hers once more making her entire body hum with anticipation. There was no need to suppress her glee at the discovery so easily found nestled in plain sight. They’d been in the room only a short time before Sissy spotted what she was looking for—and after their near disaster at the inn that morning, she’d almost thought they’d be the ones exposed. Yet, Lady Ophelia had barely given her a moment’s glance. The girl’s eyes had settled on Sissy with a quick look of possible recognition, but quickly returned to her companion. Sissy had held her breath for what seemed like hours as the auburn-haired woman once again focused on her meal and the man before her.
Thankfully, Franny preferred his back to the room and indulged Sissy in her love for remaining in the shadows—or they would have surely been discovered.
It had taken every ounce of calm she possessed to hurriedly finish her food and spirit herself and Franny from the tavern before the auburn-haired woman made the connection in her mind. Sissy had seen the silly chit in Lady Lucianna’s wake only a month prior when they’d come to confront Francis about his offer of marriage.
The Misadventures of Lady Ophelia (The Undaunted Debutantes Book 3) Page 16