by Amanda Quick
“My lovely siren,” Jared whispered. “I could not possibly be angry with you. When you turned the key in the lock, I realized that you loved me.”
Olympia went very still. “How on earth did you reason that out?”
“No one else has ever tried to rescue me.” He searched her face in the shadows. “I’m not wrong, am I? You do love me?”
“Jared, I have loved you since the day you walked into my library and rescued me from Mr. Draycott.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I did not want you to feel obliged to have to love me in return,” Olympia said. “You had already given me so much. I hoped you loved me, but I did not want to press you. In truth, it was difficult not to long for more. I wanted your love more than anything else in the world.”
“You have had it since the day I met you.” Jared brushed his mouth lightly, reverently, across hers. “I will admit that I did not realize at first that I was in love. I was too occupied with trying to deal with the strong passion that you aroused in me.”
“Ah, yes, the passion.” Olympia smiled. “There is that, is there not, sir?”
“There is definitely that.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But the love was there, too. I have never felt like this about anyone else, Olympia.”
“I am glad, sir.”
“I sought you out in order to find a missing fortune,” Jared said against her lips. “But I realized soon enough that you were the only treasure I wanted.”
“My lord, you take my breath away.” She twined her arms around his neck and drew him toward her. “Come close and tell me more traveler’s tales. I would hear of strange, far-off islands where lovers meet to make love on beaches scattered with priceless pearls.”
Jared needed no further urging. He came down on top of her, his mouth seeking hers.
Olympia shivered beneath his exciting, demanding weight. Jared was already hard and heavy with his arousal. The passion in him drew the familiar, answering response from her. She sank her nails into his shoulders.
And when the time was right and she was ready and the world outside the bedroom door no longer mattered, Jared sheathed himself in her warmth and whispered thickly in her ear.
“Sing for me, my sweet siren.”
“Only for you,” Olympia vowed.
“I wasn’t planning to kill Seaton, you know,” Jared said a long while later.
“Of course not. You would never intentionally kill anyone. But in the heat of a duel, anything can happen.” Olympia’s hand tightened around Jared’s arm. “You could have been killed.”
“I do not believe it would have come to that.” Jared smiled into the shadows. “I had decided that it was time someone taught Seaton a lesson. He was becoming something of a nuisance.”
“What did you plan to do?”
“I knew Seaton was so convinced of my cowardice that he thought I would not show for the dawn appointment. I also suspected that when I did turn up at Chalk Farm, he was going to be very worried.”
“What did you think would happen?” Olympia asked.
“It was to be his first duel,” Jared said. “His first experience with real violence. It was almost a certainty that his hand would have been shaking so badly, his shot would have gone wide. I planned to let him fire first. Then I intended to give him a minute or two to contemplate the situation before I fired my pistol into the air.”
“Honor would have been satisfied and Gifford would have been taught a lesson,” Olympia said slowly.
“Precisely. So you see, my dear, there was no need to go to all the trouble of locking me away in the storage chamber.” Jared gathered her close to his heart. “But I am rather pleased that you did.”
“How was I to know of your scheme?” Olympia’s voice was muffled against Jared’s throat. “And what if something had gone wrong? You really must consult with me in the future on such matters, Mr. Chillhurst.”
Jared’s laughter filled the bedchamber.
The scene in the library two days later was one of noisy chaos. Everyone was present except Jared, who was interviewing his new man of affairs behind the closed doors of Olympia’s study.
The dull roar of conversation in the library was the result of a number of people attempting to speak at the same time. In one corner of the room Magnus and Thaddeus exclaimed over Gifford’s half of the map. Gifford was full of questions about the half that had been in the possession of the Flamecrest family.
Robert, Hugh, and Ethan were caught up in the excitement. They hovered over the maps and made endless suggestions about how to go about digging up the treasure.
Minotaur bounded from one person to the next, wagging his tail and sniffing inquiringly at everyone’s boots and shoes.
At the other end of the room Demetria explained to Olympia how she had come to the realization that it was time to tell her brother the full truth about what had happened three years ago.
“I have spent my whole life protecting him since Mother died. I could not allow him to get himself killed because of me,” she said.
“I understand,” Olympia said. “He is fortunate to have you as his sister.”
“Chillhurst was right, however,” Constance said. “It was time for Demetria to stop trying to protect her brother. She has done far too much for him already.”
“Gifford nursed his ill-will toward your husband’s family all these years because it was all he had to cling to,” Demetria said. “And I allowed the rage in him to fester and grow because it seemed to give him a purpose, a sense of pride. I did not know what would become of him if he ceased to be obsessed with finding the treasure. I feared he would wind up in the gaming hells.”
“We never expected him to locate the missing half of the map, of course,” Constance said. “But three years ago when he told Demetria that he had a plan to search for it, she did not know what else to do but go along with his scheme.”
“One thing led to another,” Demetria confided. “The next thing I knew Chillhurst had actually asked me to marry him. It came as a shock, but it occurred to me that marrying him was not such a bad notion, after all.”
“She thought that he could provide the financial security and position that Gifford desperately wanted,” Constance said.
Demetria smiled wryly. “And Chillhurst did not seem the type to demand too much of a wife. I did not think him possessed of a passionate nature, you see. There was only one occasion when he startled me with his advances. When I could not respond, he did not appear to take offense. I thought him completely unmoved by the entire affair.”
“It was I who realized the marriage would never do,” Constance murmured. “It was clear that Chillhurst did not intend to spend much time in London. He had no interest in town life. I dreaded being separated from my dear friend for months at a time.”
“And then he found us together one afternoon and that was the end of the matter,” Demetria said quietly.
A pleasant, sensual tingle of awareness made Olympia realize that Jared was nearby. She turned around and saw him standing in the doorway of the library. Her heart soared, as it always did at the sight of him.
He looked exactly as he had that first time she had seen him in her library, she thought, dangerous and exciting, a man who had walked straight out of a legend.
Jared’s gaze met hers and his mouth curved knowingly. Then he spoke to the room at large.
“Good day to you all.” He did not raise his voice but the small crowd in the library instantly fell silent. Expectant faces glanced toward him.
When he had everyone’s attention, Jared strode across the room and took up a position behind his desk. He opened his engagement journal and consulted it. The excitement in the room was palpable.
“Well, son?” Magnus demanded eagerly. “Did ye make the arrangements?”
“I have made a decision which I believe will be of interest to all of you.” Jared turned a page in the journal. “I have arranged to have one of the Flamec
rest ships sail to the West Indies in a fortnight.”
“I say.” Thaddeus grinned in anticipation.
“The vessel will be under the command of one of my most trusted and experienced men, Captain Richards. All those who wish to search for the treasure may sail on board,” Jared said. “I assume that will include Seaton, my cousins, and very likely my father and uncle.”
“It will, indeed.” Magnus chortled with satisfaction.
“I shall certainly be on board,” Thaddeus assured him. “What, ho, for the sight of the open sea, eh, Magnus?”
Gifford grinned broadly. Olympia noticed that the simmering resentment had vanished from his eyes sometime during the past two days.
“Thank you, Chillhurst,” Gifford said sincerely. “This is really very good of you.”
“There is no need to thank me,” Jared said. “I am only too happy to send the lot of you off to the West Indies. I look forward to restoring some semblance of order and routine to my life.”
“Does that mean that you will not be sailing off to the islands to search for the lost treasure, yourself, sir?” Robert asked quickly.
“It means precisely that, Robert. I’m going to stay home and attend to my business affairs and see to my duties as a husband and tutor.”
Robert looked relieved.
Hugh and Ethan exchanged grins.
“Now, then.” Jared closed his appointment journal. “I believe that concludes my announcements for this morning. My new man of affairs is waiting out in the hall. He will provide the details of the sailing arrangements.”
Magnus, Thaddeus, and Gifford rushed toward the door.
When they were out of the room, Demetria looked at Jared. “Thank you, Chillhurst.”
“You’re welcome.” Jared glanced at the tall clock. “Now, if you do not mind, I have several appointments which must be kept this morning.”
“Of course.” Demetria smiled wryly and rose to her feet. “We would not wish to impose further on your busy schedule, my lord.”
“No, indeed.” Constance looked amused. She inclined her head gracefully at Olympia. “Good day to you, madam.”
“Good day,” Olympia said. She waited until Demetria and Constance had taken their leave and then she nodded to Robert.
Robert flushed and looked at Jared. “Sir, if you do not mind, my brothers and I have a gift we would like to present to you.”
“A gift?” Jared’s brows rose in surprise. “What is it?”
Robert removed a small box from his pocket, took two steps toward the desk, and handed it to Jared. “It is not nearly as beautiful as the one you used to ransom me, sir, but we hope you will like it.”
“There’s an inscription on the inside,” Hugh volunteered eagerly. “Aunt Olympia had the jeweler put it there.”
Ethan elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut your mouth, you bloody idiot. He ain’t even opened the box yet.”
Jared slowly opened the box and studied the contents. A suspenseful silence filled the room.
Jared stood gazing down at the new watch for a long time.
Then, very carefully, he removed it from the box and examined the inscription. “To a most excellent tutor.’” When he looked up there was an odd brilliance in his gaze. “You are wrong, Robert. It is far more beautiful than the one I gave to the villain who kidnapped you. I thank all of you very much.”
“Do you really like it?” Ethan asked.
“It is the nicest gift anyone has given me since I was a boy,” Jared said quietly. “In fact, I believe it is the only gift anyone has given me since I was seventeen.”
Robert, Ethan, and Hugh grinned at each other. It was all Olympia could do to keep from bursting into tears.
Jared broke the mood by slipping his new watch into his pocket. He looked at the boys. “Now, then,” he said crisply, “I do believe it is time for your next scheduled activity.”
“What is that, sir?” Robert asked with a doubtful expression. “I do hope it is not Latin.”
“No, it is not Latin.” Jared smiled. “Mrs. Bird is expecting you in the kitchen for tea and cakes.”
“Very good, sir,” Robert exclaimed.
Hugh laughed with glee. He bobbed a quick bow. “I say, I’m rather hungry. I hope there are gingerbread cakes.”
“I hope there are currant cakes,” Ethan said as he made his bow.
“I would rather have plum cakes,” Robert said thoughtfully. He swept Olympia a graceful bow and followed his brothers from the room.
Jared looked at Olympia. “I had begun to fear that we would never find ourselves alone this morning.”
“It has been a trifle hectic around here, has it not, my lord?” Olympia searched his face. “Are you quite certain you do not wish to go with the others to search for the lost treasure?”
“Absolutely certain, madam.” Jared removed his coat and dropped it on the back of a chair. Then he went to the door. “I have better things to do than go haring off after a treasure that I do not need.”
“What sort of things, my lord?” Olympia watched him turn the key in the lock.
He walked deliberately back toward her, his gaze gleaming with a smoldering desire. “Making love to my wife is at the top of my list.”
He swept Olympia into his arms and started toward the sofa.
Olympia wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “But, Mr. Chillhurst, what about your appointments for the day? This sort of thing will make a hash of your schedule.”
“Hang my appointments, madam. A man of my nature cannot be a slave to routine.”
Olympia’s soft laughter was swallowed up by her pirate’s plundering kiss.
About the Author
AMANDA QUICK, a pseudonym for Jayne Ann Krentz, is a best-selling, award-winning author of contemporary and historical romances. There are nearly twenty-five million copies of her books in print, including Seduction, Surrender, Scandal, Rendezvous, Ravished, Reckless, Dangerous, Deception, Desire, Mistress, Mystique, Mischief, Affair, and With This Ring. She makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, Frank.
Visit her website at
www.amandaquick.com.
Look for Amanda Quick’s
historical romance
With This Ring
available now in paperback
from Bantam Books
A writer of shocking “horrid novels,” Beatrice Poole is no stranger to gothic terrors. Yet she declares it’s all poppycock when Leo Drake, the enigmatic Earl of Monkcrest and England’s foremost expert on arcane matters, warns her about the Forbidden Rings of Aphrodite. Nothing can stop her from investigating the disappearance of the Rings from her uncle’s home, and her uncle’s death. Beatrice is clearly on a collision course with danger, and Leo insists on being her protector. All the while, a whisper of evil swirls through London and a sinister villain plots to test the power of the Rings, with Leo and Beatrice as the victims.
“I believe chat you may be the only person in all of England who can assist me, sir,” Beatrice said. “Your extensive study of old legends is unequaled. If there is anyone who can supply me with the facts concerning the Forbidden Rings, it is yourself.”
“So you have come all this way to interview me.” He shook his head. “I do not know if I should be flattered or appalled. You certainly did not need to trouble yourself with a difficult journey, madam. You could have written to me.”
“The matter is an urgent one, my lord. And to be perfectly truthful, your reputation is such that I feared you might not see fit to reply to a letter in, shall we say, a timely manner.”
He smiled slightly. “In other words, you have heard that I am inclined to ignore inquiries that do not greatly interest me.”
“Or which you deem to be unscholarly or based on idle curiosity.”
He shrugged. “I do not deny it. I regularly receive letters from people who apparently waste a great deal of their time reading novels.”
“You do
not approve of novels, my lord?” Beatrice’s voice was curiously neutral in tone.
“I do not disapprove of all novels, merely the horrid ones. You know the ones I mean. The sort that feature supernatural horror and strange mysteries.”
“Oh, yes. The horrid ones.”
“All that nonsense with specters and glimmering lights in the distance is bad enough. But how the authors can see fit to insert romance into the narrative in addition is beyond me.”
“You are familiar with such novels, then, sir?”
“I read one,” he admitted. “I never form an opinion without first doing a bit of research.”
“Which horrid novel did you read?”
“One of Mrs. York’s, I believe. I was told that she is among the more popular authors.” He grimaced. “Perhaps I should say authoresses, since most of the horrid novels seem to be written by women.”
“Indeed.” Beatrice gave him an enigmatic smile. “Many feel that women writers are more adept at depicting imaginative landscapes and scenes that involve the darker passions.”
“I would certainly not argue with that.”
“Do you disapprove of women who write, my lord?”
“Not at all.” He was startled by the question. “I have read many books that have been authored by ladies. It is only the horrid novels which I do not enjoy.”
“And in particular, Mrs. York’s horrid novels.”
“Quite right. What an overwrought imagination that woman possesses. All that wandering about through decayed castles, stumbling into ghosts and skeletons and the like. It is too much.” He shook his head. “I could not believe that she actually had her heroine marry the mysterious master of the haunted castle.”
“That sort of hero is something of a trademark for Mrs. York, I believe,” Beatrice said smoothly. “It is one of the things that makes her stories unique.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“In most horrid novels the mysterious lord of the haunted abbey or castle turns out to be the villain,” Beatrice explained patiently. “But in Mrs. York’s books, he generally proves to be the hero.”