Loving the Hawke (The Seven Curses of London Book 1)

by Williams, Lana

  “Tell him I’m coming for him and all of his other associates.” Nathaniel lifted the man’s arm one more time, causing him to grunt, but he wanted to make certain his message was heard. “If I were you, I’d make myself scarce after I gave him that message. Otherwise you and all of your cohorts will find yourself in prison or worse. Do I make myself clear?”

  The man nodded, sweat beading his brow from the pain.

  “Off with you.” Nathaniel released him, giving him a shove in the process.

  The man sent a fearful glance over his shoulder. His gaze dropped to his knife.

  Nathaniel moved to stand on the blade. The man shot him a disgruntled look but hurried toward the rear entrance of the house.

  Nathaniel glanced around to make certain no one else waited in the shadows to pounce. Seeing no one, he picked up the knife and ambled away. He chose not to hurry. If anyone was watching, he wanted to make it clear he wasn’t frightened. He hoped he’d made an impression on the other man.

  He couldn’t help but berate himself as he walked. Letitia was even more of a distraction than he’d realized. Under normal circumstances, he’d have noted the man’s approach and avoided being threatened with a knife.

  Somehow he needed to keep his thoughts on the task at hand and not on his pretend betrothed.

  ~*~

  Lettie waited at the party that evening, beginning to worry as Nathaniel had not yet arrived. She’d known he was going to investigate the new brothel that morning. In all honesty, she wasn’t certain what that meant. Surely he didn’t intend to go inside, did he? She realized now that she should’ve asked more detailed questions.

  Something about Nathaniel’s confidence tended to put her fears at rest when she was with him. It was only when she’d had more time to think about what he’d told her that she considered the danger he’d truly encounter.

  Last night had been amazing, something she thought she’d never experience. Nathaniel had been so considerate. His desire had fueled her own.

  Though she was well aware of the risk they took, it was difficult to believe that they’d be caught or that she might end up expecting a babe. Becoming pregnant seemed to be something that often took many months to accomplish based on what little she knew from acquaintances who’d been married a year or more and had yet to produce a child. Perhaps it was naïve of her, but she wanted one more night with Nathaniel before they parted.

  The modiste had sent another gown, this one in a unique turquoise blue she absolutely adored. Oddly enough, she found wearing these brighter colors lifted both her mood and her confidence. Cora had swept her hair back in a loose chignon once again, leaving curls tumbling from the back knot.

  She’d wanted to look her best but only for Nathaniel. Had her changed appearance pushed him to make love with her or would it have happened anyway because of their betrothal? In truth, it didn’t matter. She was grateful for whatever the cause.

  “Miss Fairchild,” Nathaniel’s brother greeted her as he came to stand beside her, much to her surprise. “I trust you are well this evening.”

  “I am, thank you. And you?” she inquired after curtsying.

  He nodded, his gaze skimming the crowd as though little there caught his interest.

  Lettie considered him more closely. She hadn’t yet decided if she cared for him or not. There was a cold reserve about him that made it difficult to decide if he was anything like Nathaniel. From what little she could tell, the brothers were not especially close. She wondered why.

  “Have you seen my brother?” he asked.

  “I’m hoping he arrives soon.”

  The earl’s gaze narrowed as he studied Lettie. “Do you happen to know where he spent the day?”

  Lettie shifted her gaze to the crowd, unwilling to look him in the eye when she lied. “I’m not certain.” It was true in part as she didn’t know the address of where he’d been.

  “I confess I’m becoming concerned with his secretive life.”

  “Oh?” She nearly winced, hoping he wouldn’t ask her for details. What could she possibly say?

  “I called by his home this afternoon, but he wasn’t there. Dibbles seemed uncertain where he was.”

  “Does your butler always know where you are?” Lettie couldn’t help but defend Nathaniel.

  The earl stared at her, obviously astounded she’d question him in such a manner. She frowned as doubt assailed her. Perhaps that wasn’t proper behavior when addressing an earl. In truth, she wasn’t quite certain as she hadn’t spoken with any before.

  As the silence grew overlong, Lettie wondered if she should apologize.

  “No, I suppose he doesn’t.”

  She gave a little sigh of relief that his tone didn’t sound angry. Before she could respond, her mother arrived at her side with Rose in tow. Lettie could’ve groaned but that wasn’t proper behavior either.

  “Lettie, dear, I hope I’m not interrupting,” her mother said as she looked up at the earl.

  As Lettie made the introductions, she could nearly see the earl stepping back and his defenses going up. For a moment, she almost felt sorry for him.

  Her mother handled the introduction to Rose, who looked equally uncomfortable. Lettie could only guess this was some attempt on her mother’s part to show the duke he wasn’t the only man with a title interested in Rose.

  Nathaniel’s brother made his excuses as quickly as possible and departed. Lettie couldn’t blame him. How annoying it must be to be hunted like a fox the way matchmaking mothers hunted potential husbands for their daughters.

  Soon after his departure, her mother dragged Rose to some other person she wanted her to meet. Lettie was glad not for the first time that their mother had never pursued a husband for her the way she did with Rose. Her poor sister looked quite miserable as well as embarrassed.

  Her mother hadn’t said anything more about Lettie’s betrothal, much to her surprise. Maybe somehow, she sensed an actual marriage would never happen. The thought disquieted Lettie.

  “Another lovely gown,” Julia exclaimed as she came to join her. “That color is amazing on you.”

  “Thank you.” Lettie smoothed the simple lines of the fitted gown. “Not a ruffle or bow in sight. I am quite beside myself.”

  Julia beamed. “Nothing pleases me more than seeing others happy. I’m so glad you like the gowns. Your hair is lovely as well.”

  “You are too kind.”

  “Oh,” Julia said, “before I forget, I meant to tell you I spoke with my father about the book you mentioned.”

  Lettie’s interest perked up immediately. She felt as though she was letting Nathaniel down by her lack of progress on her part of the investigation thus far. “Had he heard of it?”

  “Unfortunately no, but he said if anyone in London knows of it, it would be Oliver Bartley, Viscount Frost. Father says he specializes in ancient texts and lives in London. I can obtain his address if you need it.”

  “That is very helpful. I can’t thank you enough,” Lettie said with a smile. Now if only Nathaniel would make an appearance so she might share it with him.

  She’d nearly given up hope as the evening progressed, but at last he arrived. One glance at his face told her something was amiss.

  “What’s happened?” she asked as soon as he was close enough to hear her.

  He frowned as though puzzled by her question. “Good evening.”

  “Yes, yes. I do think we’re beyond normal pleasantries. I can see by your expression that something has occurred.”

  He studied her as though curious at her comment. “Truly?”

  “Of course.” She couldn’t help but look him up and down. “Are you well?”

  “I thought you said we were beyond normal pleasantries.”

  Lettie had the sudden urge to throttle him. “I believe you know what I am asking.”

  A small smile ticked up the corner of his mouth. “Remarkable.”

  “What is?”

  “You seem to have developed t
he same awareness Dibbles has when it comes to events in my life.”

  “Then something did happen.” Lettie stared at him, heart pounding at the idea that he’d had a near miss. “What was it?”

  “All is well, I can assure you. I had a minor skirmish with one of Rutter’s men outside the new brothel.”

  “Did you go inside?” She was appalled at the thought of him putting himself in such danger again.

  “Nothing of the sort. Merely observing, I assure you. But they didn’t seem to care for me loitering.”

  When he stopped as though he’d reached the end of the story, Lettie held her patience by a thread. “And?”

  He glanced at her as though he’d forgotten what they were discussing.

  “Nathaniel.” She hoped he’d heed the warning in her voice.

  He shook his head. “Nothing untoward. The man made threats. I removed the knife he held and made threats of my own. End of conversation.”

  Lettie closed her eyes for a moment. Then she drew a deep breath and moved to stand before Nathaniel, taking both his hands in hers. Surely such bold behavior was permitted when one was betrothed. She stared deep into his blue eyes. “You are not to take such risks. What if that man had succeeded? I wouldn’t even know where to search for you.” The fear the thought gave her sent cold shivers chasing down her spine. “If you won’t take care for me, please do so for those girls. Without you, no others will be saved.”

  An emotion Lettie couldn’t name shifted in Nathaniel’s eyes. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was taking her words to heart.

  She did the only other thing she could think of. “Please?” she added as she squeezed his hands.

  It was as though all the other people in the room fell away. The intensity of his stare made her desperately want to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. To try to show him what he meant to her since her words didn’t seem to have any effect on him.

  At last, he gave the barest of nods. “I will try.”

  “Thank you.” She drew a deep breath, feeling as though she’d won a small battle. Perhaps next time he considered doing something dangerous, he’d remember her plea. “Your brother asked after you earlier.”

  “Oh?” Nathaniel appeared surprised at the thought.

  “I also learned from Lady Julia that a man named Oliver Bartley, Viscount Frost, might be our best hope to learn more about the book.”

  “Frost?” Nathaniel’s surprise turned to shock.

  “Do you know him?”

  “Yes, he was in the Navy with me.” He shook his head. “I had no idea he was a scholar.”

  “According to what Lady Julia learned from her father, he is quite an expert on ancient texts.”

  “Shall we call upon him on the morrow?”

  Lettie’s heart lifted. “I would like that very much.” She’d been afraid he’d insist on pursuing this information without her.

  “Excellent.” He reached out to tuck her hand in the crook of his arm. “I look forward to it.” With a glance around, he added, “I wish there was more privacy at these events.” Then he looked into her eyes, and the hidden meaning there stole her breath.

  “As do I, Nathaniel. As do I.” She couldn’t help her smile anymore than she could help the love spilling out of her heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Great social grievances are not to be taken by storm. They merely bow their vile heads while the wrathful blast passes, and regain their original position immediately afterwards.”

  ~ The Seven Curses of London

  Late the next morning, Nathaniel made his way to the Fairchild’s home to pick up Letitia so they could venture to Frost’s residence. He couldn’t have been more surprised when she’d told him the name of the man who might have information on the book.

  Frost had been a good friend during their years in the service. He’d chosen to retire well over a year before Nathaniel had been injured. Frost had been involved in a terrible skirmish in India and, from that time on, hadn’t been quite the same. Nathaniel didn’t know what had occurred, but it had changed Frost. Despite that, Nathaniel knew he was intelligent, clever, and an honorable man. That was all that truly mattered.

  Last he’d heard, Frost’s parents still lived. The man was quite wealthy but with only a minor holding awaiting him, he’d followed his desire to serve his country, wanting the chance to make a difference. He and Nathaniel had had much in common.

  As he handed Letitia into the carriage and sat beside her, he couldn’t resist settling close to her. Hadn’t he told himself that he needed to maintain some distance? Yet he was like a moth to flame when it came to her. Staying away was impossible. Now that he was with her, the voice in his head questioned why it had seemed imperative that he keep her at arm’s length.

  And when he looked into those hazel-green eyes of hers, he had no answer. Certainly she was a distraction, but she also made his life worth living. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she leaned forward the tiniest bit, a nearly imperceptible movement that stirred him to no end.

  What could he do but comply? He met her halfway, her lips soft under his. He kept a firm hold on his desire or rather tried to. Now was not the time to allow it free rein.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “For what,” she whispered back, a small smile playing about her lips.

  “For the kiss. I do not think I will ever grow weary of them.”

  “Nor will I.” Her smile bloomed, right alongside something in the recesses of his heart. He nearly lifted his hand to rub at the unfamiliar sensation.

  Soon they neared the neighborhood where Frost lived, and the carriage drew to a halt.

  The large, three-story, stately mansion was in excellent repair. Nathaniel could only think that it was a large house for one man to rattle around in.

  He gave his card to the footman who answered the door with Lettie at his side, hoping Oliver was home and would see them.

  After a brief wait, the footman returned to show Nathaniel and Letitia into the massive library. The room was more than twice the size of a normal library for such a house. Both he and Letitia stared at the numerous, floor-to-ceiling shelves of books as they walked into the richly appointed room.

  “Hawke. What an unexpected surprise,” Frost said as he came around his massive mahogany desk piled high with more books, a wary look in his eyes. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  “Good to see you,” Nathaniel replied, clasping his friend’s hand with both of his own, truly pleased to see him looking well. He decided to ignore his wary expression for now. “We heard from an acquaintance that you are quite knowledgeable on ancient texts, so we’ve come to request your expertise.”

  “Oh?” Frost frowned as though less than pleased. He was a bit taller than Nathaniel with straight dark hair that swept to the side. His piercing green eyes had always given Nathaniel the impression he saw far more than the average man. His dark suit was modest but still showed he was in fine shape.

  Frost’s gaze shifted to Letitia, and Nathaniel made the introductions.

  At the mention of their betrothal, Frost’s brows raised. “Congratulations to both of you. I heard you were injured,” he said as he gestured toward the chairs before his desk. “I trust it wasn’t too serious.”

  “A bullet struck my leg, shattering the bone. Unfortunately, the doctor could do little to knit the bone,” Nathaniel said, well aware of Letitia’s curious regard. “I was discharged once they determined I wouldn’t make a complete recovery.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that but pleased you’ve returned to London. I must also apologize for not seeking you out upon your return.” Frost looked away as he said it as though uncomfortable. “I don’t leave home often.”

  “I can see why,” Letitia offered. “You have a beautiful residence.”

  “Thank you.” Her words seemed to put him at ease once again. “May I ask you how two met?”

  Nathaniel shared a look with Letitia.
“The first occurrence was at Blackfriars Bridge.”

  “That’s an odd place,” Frost commented, obviously curious at the idea.

  “It’s a rather long story we will share if you have a few minutes. But it so happens that we met again that evening at a ball.”

  “You attended a ball?” Nathaniel could only smile at Frost’s skepticism. “I remember you swearing off such events.”

  “My mother badgered me into going for my brother, but who did I see?” He touched Letitia’s gloved hand briefly. “Miss Fairchild. We’ve since joined forces to fight a terrible problem.”

  Nathaniel could only hope he’d caught Frost’s interest. The man seemed to have become a recluse since leaving the service and didn’t appear overly pleased to see him.

  “What problem would that be?” Frost asked, a hint of caution in his expression.

  While information on the book would be helpful, Nathaniel needed more help than that. Having another military man he knew he could trust with his life would be an incredible advantage. But he no longer knew if Frost was interested in fighting battles or saving lives. Not after all he’d seen and done. Perhaps his return to civilian life had put him firmly on the side of peace. And firmly inside his house.

  Nathaniel waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m not here to worry you with such things.” He hoped that by building Frost’s curiosity, he’d be more likely to aid him. It was a bit like fishing. Offer a little morsel and jiggle it to see if he took the bait and hook. “Our true purpose here is to inquire as to whether you have any knowledge of The Book of Secrets?”

  “The Book of Secrets,” he repeated as he glanced about the room as though running the name through his mental files. “That sounds vaguely familiar.” He picked up a pen from the desk and jotted the title down on a piece of paper. “Do you happen to know the author?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “We only know it is an old text supposedly giving the owner fantastic powers.”

  “A book that gives power?” Frost chuckled. “Sounds more like something to be found in one of those romantic novels that have become so popular of late.”