He arched his dark brows in the most infuriatingly innocent expression she’d ever seen. What an act!
“I was invited. As I assume were you. Do you find that surprising?”
“Of course not...”
The Earl of Flanders was making his way toward her.
“I mean, what are you doing here?” She pointed to the spot where he stood.
“Why, I’m conversing with you.”
“I don’t want to speak with you.”
Flanders stepped closer.
“Surely you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. Now, if you will excuse me.”
One more second and it would be too late.
“Actually, I was about to request a dance.”
She couldn’t help it. Her mouth dropped as far as it ever had and her gaze flew to his face. “You what?”
Flanders was even with her.
“I would like to request this dance, if you haven’t already promised it to another fortunate gentleman.”
He knew she hadn’t promised the next dance to anyone else. She didn’t come to these affairs to dance. She had other, more important, things to do. “The next dance is a...a waltz.”
Flanders took a step past her.
“So it is. I happen to enjoy a waltz immensely.”
Flanders was out of the ballroom. She’d missed her chance.
She couldn’t keep her right foot from stomping in frustration. “How can you say you enjoy a waltz? I’ve never seen you dance a waltz in your life.”
“I’m sure you are mistaken, my lady. I promise you, I’m quite accomplished at the waltz.”
Amanda glared at him with every ounce of the intense anger building inside her. Because of his infernal meddling, she’d missed the perfect opportunity to speak with Flanders. And time was running out.
“I have no intention of waltzing with you. In fact—”
“Oh, listen.” He took her arm and turned her toward the dance floor. “Our waltz is just beginning.”
Before she had time to wage an offense, he led her to the middle of the ballroom and took her in his arms.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She told herself she wouldn’t react to him the way she had that time in the alley, or yesterday in the carriage. But every part of her traitorous body betrayed her.
The heat of his hand against her back branded her. She didn’t want to lose control of her body like she did when he was near her. What was wrong with her? Why did he affect her like this?
They glided across the room in perfect harmony. Moving with him was as ethereal as floating on clouds. She’d never felt such a sense of euphoria in her life.
“Why did you ask me to dance?”
“You doubt I enjoy dancing?”
Amanda tried to ignore the velvety smoothness of his voice but failed. What was wrong with her?
“I doubt you enjoy dancing with me.”
“Why? And please, don’t bring up our past. You were quite young then and I only thought of you as my sister’s friend.”
“And now?”
He locked his gaze with hers.
A swarm of excited hummingbirds took flight inside her. His eyes were beyond dark, beyond fathomless. She felt as if she were drowning in them. And his mouth...
The corners of his lips lifted with minute slowness to form the most seductive smile she’d ever had aimed in her direction. A shiver embraced her spine.
“Are you cold?”
“No, I’m warm.” She suddenly felt faint but blamed it on the building heat in the ballroom. “I’m terribly warm, of a sudden.”
Before she realized his intent, he whisked her toward the nearest exit and ushered her to the farthest corner of Lady Prosser’s terrace.
A shocking blast of cool air hit her skin and she sucked in a startled breath. She began to wrap her hands around her arms, but before she could move, his arms came around her and he pulled her toward him.
She clung to him, and for a brief second that seemed to last an eternity, he stared at her. Then, without warning, he lowered his head and kissed her.
His mouth covered hers, at first softly, tenderly, as if he wasn’t sure of his actions. Then he opened his mouth atop hers and deepened the kiss.
The emotions that raged through her were the same as they’d been the last time he kissed her. Her heart pounded in her breast. A rushing wind echoed in her head. And an eagerness she couldn’t control possessed her with unrelenting determination.
She met his kisses and matched them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to accept his intrusion. She met his assaults with an impatience that couldn’t be assuaged.
And he deepened his kisses even more.
Their tongues touched, then battled, then mated with avid determination. There was no master-slave. No winner-loser. No stronger-weaker. There was only the sun and the moon. Only the right and the left. Only two halves of a whole. They were both separate, yet fit together to make a something complete.
She angled her head to give him better access. She wanted as much as he could give. Accepted as much as he offered. Took as much as he gave and returned it full measure.
Without realizing it, even their breathing became as one.
Her legs turned to pudding beneath her and he pulled her even closer as if he realized she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own.
The heat from his chest and torso and thighs burned through her satin gown until she feared she might be on fire. Except it wasn’t a fire that burned on the outside, but flames that raged from within.
He kissed her one final time then lifted his mouth from hers and pulled her against him.
Their breathing came in struggling, ragged breaths, each rapid gasp more desperate than the last. Their chests rose and fell in deep swoops that lifted their shoulders and dropped them again. And beneath her ear, she heard his heart thunder a wild, frantic rhythm that somehow matched her own.
She’d never experienced anything so intense. Had never come so close to drowning. Had never lost control so completely. The man she was learning to feel safe with was the man she realized she should fear the most.
CHAPTER 8
Amanda remained in Hadleigh’s arms until she felt strong enough to stand on her own, then took a step back. He allowed her to go.
She turned away from him and anchored her gloved hands on the cement railing. “Why did you do that?”
He didn’t answer at first. She was about to face him and demand his reply when he spoke.
“It seems I cannot help myself. And…I thought it would...help.”
“Did it?”
Another pause. But this time he remained silent. He simply laughed. A laugh that confirmed what she already knew. A laugh that echoed her own thoughts. No. Kissing her only made matters worse. Just like kissing him made everything worse.
She pushed away from the balustrade and took a step toward the ballroom. His voice stopped her.
“What has your brother involved you in?”
She stumbled in her attempt to escape him. His voice stopped her again.
“What were you hoping to find in Marquit’s shipping ledgers?”
“This doesn’t concern you,” she said, wishing that it did. Wishing that she had his strength on which to lean. If she’d ever needed it, now was the time. But he wouldn’t simply come to her aid. He would control her. He would tell her what to do and expect her to obey his order. And yet, a niggling fear deep inside her warned her that the danger in which her brother was involved was becoming more deadly.
As she did each night, she spent several hours hiding in the secret cubbyhole beneath the stairway. She knew eventually the men who’d tried to kill Harry would return. And they had. Last night.
Jenkins had cut two circles in the paneling that gave her a perfect view of the foyer on one side, and most of the rooms off the hall on the other. Last night, two men had entered the house through a window in Harry’s study. They made a
quick search of the downstairs rooms, then went up the stairs to check the bedrooms.
She heard them open one door after another, and prayed that when they finished, they wouldn’t search beneath the stairway. She didn’t want to think what they’d do if they found her.
While the men searched Harry’s house, she told herself she was in over her head. It wasn’t the first time she’d forced herself to admit how dangerous this was, how possible it was that whoever wanted Harry dead would kill anyone who got in their way. Which meant she had to hurry.
The longer it took her to discover which member of the nobility owned a ship named the Calliope Ann, the greater her chances were that she would be found out. Or that Harry’s whereabouts would be discovered.
And he’d be killed.
“Why are you interested only in men who possess the title of earl?”
She slowly turned to face him. “I don’t know how you arrived at such an assumption, but that is ridiculous.”
“Why are you suddenly so interested in the shipping industry?”
She opened her mouth to voice another rebuttal but realized any words between them were futile. If only he were as ignorant as most of the other titled males in Society. If only he weren’t so observant. If only he weren’t so controlling.
“If you will excuse me, Your Grace, I suddenly have a headache.”
“Let me help you, Amanda. Trust me at least that much.”
His words stopped her. The intimate way in which he said her name warmed her.
“You can’t.”
“I can. If you’ll only tell me what you’re involved in.”
She wanted to. She wanted nothing more. But she couldn’t. She was the only one who could do anything about this. She was the only person she could trust to do anything about this. She’d never been able to trust anyone before. She certainly wasn’t about to start now.
She shook her head. “I can’t.” She took a step away from him and would have left him if he hadn’t spoken again. But he did. And his words brought her to another halt.
“You could. If you wanted to.”
She clutched her hands at her waist. Could she? Could she dare?
She almost opened her mouth to ask for his help. Almost turned to walk back into his arms and take refuge. Almost. But she couldn’t. She didn’t know what Harry was involved in. If it was something illegal, Hadleigh was far too noble to look the other way when they discovered what it was. He’d be duty-bound to turn Harry over to the authorities. She hadn’t gone to the lengths she had to save her brother only to have Hadleigh destroy him in the end.
She took one more step away from him, then another.
“At least promise me that you’ll go right home and not do anything foolish.”
When she didn’t say anything she heard him take a step toward her.
“Promise me,” he said again, but this time the tone of his voice contained the familiar tone of demand.
“I won’t do anything foolish, if that’s what concerns you. Now, I really must go.”
She left as quickly as she could.
If given the chance, she knew he would offer to escort her through the ballroom. Would offer to fetch her carriage. Would even go so far as to offer to see her home. But that was the last thing she needed or wanted.
She suddenly needed to be as far away from him as possible.
She made her way across the ballroom floor and bid Lady Prosser goodnight, then waited outside for Jenkins to bring the carriage. The moment he pulled up, she stepped inside.
“Are we being followed?” she asked after they’d turned the first corner.
“No, my lady. I’ve been watching and no one is behind us.”
She released a gasp of relief, and took her first steady breath since she’d kissed Hadleigh.
“Did you want to go home, my lady?”
She worried her lower lip. She was running out of time. She was running out of opportunities. She was running out of luck.
“No, Jenkins. Take me to the docks. To Kroften Imports. But don’t take a direct route. I want to make sure no one is following us.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The last thing she needed was for Hadleigh to discover where she was going and interfere.
She turned her gaze to the window and watched even though it was too dark to see anything clearly. She clasped her hands in her lap and said a silent prayer that she would finally find what she was looking for. She didn’t know what she’d do if she didn’t. She was nearly out of places to look.
The drive seemed to take forever, but at last they reached the waterfront. Her goal tonight was to go through the shipping records at Kroften Import and Export, which was owned by the Earl of Flanders. She’d left Flanders’s and Lambert’s businesses to the last because of all the titled nobility on her list, those two were the least likely candidates. They were both mild-mannered, never the topic of gossip, and devoted to maintaining their well-run estates. The fact that their reputations were beyond question shoved them to the bottom of the list of possibilities that she intended to investigate.
The Earl of Flanders’ passion was reported to be horticulture. Rumor was that he had some of the rarest species of flora and fauna in Europe, and he devoted hour after hour to tending his flower gardens.
Lambert, on the other hand, was known for his stable of Arabian horses. Even though his family owned a shipping fleet of some size, Lambert wasn’t the one who ran it. In fact, as far as she knew, he had no interest in his family’s shipping interests and seldom even visited the docks. He employed a manager, Mr. Abernathy Fowler, to take charge of the Lambert Shipping enterprise, called Kroften Import and Export.
The carriage slowed, then stopped. Even though she couldn’t imagine either of these well-reputed men capable of murder, she had no choice but to investigate their offices the same as she had the others. She couldn’t rest until she did.
She leaned toward the window. “Do you see anyone, Jenkins?”
“No, miss. His Grace’s carriage isn’t here.”
She reached for the door. Even Jenkins knew who she wanted to make sure wasn’t following her. “Give me twenty minutes,” she said as she stepped to the ground.
“Yes, miss.”
She almost ran down the alley between Kroften Imports on her left and Netfork’s Shipping on her right. The name wasn’t familiar, but that didn’t matter. There were many shipping companies. She was only interested in those owned by members of the nobility—earls, in particular.
When she arrived at the Kroften Import and Export door, she reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out the tool she’d used to get into the other offices.
She hadn’t asked Jenkins where he’d obtained such an implement—she was sure it wasn’t legal to own one—nor had she considered the ramifications of what possessing one might mean if she were ever caught with it. Instead, she’d accepted his offering with silence and spent hour after endless hour practicing with the handy gadget until she was adept at opening almost any door imaginable. Thankfully, she had a spare, since Hadleigh had kept the one he’d taken from her.
She opened the lock-pick, then leaned down and inserted the long, claw-hooked end into the keyhole. She slowly worked the pick around in the lock until she felt the latch move. With a smile of satisfaction, she gently turned her wrist to the right.
“Don’t even think of it.”
Her hand flew to her mouth at the soft whisper. His voice held a threatening sound and she jerked away from the door.
She spun around with such force that when her body collided with the rock-solid, muscled flesh of the Duke of Hadleigh, the force of the collision elicited a muffled groan.
He clamped his fingers none-too-gently around her upper arms, and held her at arm’s length from him. “Didn’t I tell you to go home where you belonged? Didn’t I ask you not to do anything foolish?”
“How dare you!” She stomped her foot and shoved his hands away from her. “How dare y
ou interfere!”
“What in bloody blazes are you doing here? Don’t you realize breaking into someone’s property is a crime?”
“I’m not stealing! I just need to…look for something!”
“You promised you’d go right home and not do anything foolish.”
“I promised no such thing. You made a decree and assumed that I’d adhere to your demand.”
“You said you wouldn’t do anything foolish!”
“Of course I did. How else was I going to keep you from meddling in my business?”
From the harsh intake of his breath, she could tell she’d pushed him too far. Hadleigh’s temper was something she’d experienced often, but standing in a dark alley in the middle of the docks at an hour far past midnight wasn’t the time or place that she wanted a refresher in how angry he could become.
She propped her fists on her hips. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll leave and let me finish what I came here for?”
He took another huge breath that gave him even greater height and breadth—as if having him loom over her normally wasn’t intimidating enough.
“Not a chance in hell,” he said, grasping her arm and pulling her toward the end of the alley.
“But I—”
“Not one word, Amanda.”
“But I—”
“Enough!”
She wanted to argue with him but she couldn’t find the breath to speak. She nearly had to run to keep up with him as it was.
“The world isn’t safe with you loose to do as you please,” he said, dragging her toward his carriage. “I’ve never seen anyone so bent on self-destruction.”
When they reached his carriage, he opened the door and handed her inside. He had one foot on the step and his body half inside when she held out her hand to stop him. “My driver will be looking for me.”
“Maybe he’ll finally realize how foolish it is to leave you and drive off!”
She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could say anything more, a muffled pop sounded from somewhere outside. Hadleigh stiffened in response, then flung himself inside the carriage and threw his body into the seat opposite her.
The Dark Duke Page 7