“I keep thinking about your dinner invitation the other night,” Marquit said, “and wonder what the real reason for inviting me was. The only explanation that comes to mind is the shipping company my family owns, and a ship you slipped into the conversation. The Calliope Anne. Is there a reason that particular ship is important?”
“There might be,” Sterling answered.
“Does it have something to do with anything of an illegal nature?”
“It might.”
“Then I hasten to assure you that Marquit Shipping doesn’t own a ship called the Calliope Anne. Nor is it involved in anything illegal.”
“And you would like me to simply take your word for it?”
“Yes. As a gentleman.”
Sterling studied him for several long moments. Finally, Marquit moved to the terrace railing and turned his back to Hadleigh.
“Marquit Shipping has been in our family for three generations. I would have been the fourth generation to run it.”
“Would have been?”
He turned back. “Yes. I’m glad that my father isn’t alive to see this, but within the year, I’ll be forced to sell the company.”
“It is not profitable?”
“Oh, it’s profitable. It simply doesn’t take in as much money as I seem to spend from its coffers.”
“Marquit Shipping is going bankrupt,” Sterling said bluntly.
Marquit laughed. “Yes. I have bankrupted it with my wastrel lifestyle.”
“And because of this, I’m to believe that you do not own a ship called the Calliope Anne?”
“I’ve had several parties interested in Marquit Shipping. They’ve gone over my books in detail. If I had a ship that was involved in illegal contraband, it would have been discovered by now, and I would be in custody.”
“I see,” Sterling answered.
“Yes, I’m sure you do.” Marquit turned as if to leave, then stopped. “May I ask what is so special about the Calliope Anne?”
Sterling shook his head. “Not yet. In time, though, everyone will know.”
“I will await that day. You have my interest.”
Marquit nodded, then turned to leave. He stopped. “I suggest you and the lady come to a permanent arrangement,” he said over his shoulder. “Soon.”
Sterling watched him go, then turned back toward Amanda.
“Do you believe him?” she asked.
He turned. “About the Calliope Anne? Or about you and me coming to a permanent arrangement soon?”
“The Calliope Anne,” she answered. He couldn’t help but notice the frustration in her voice.
“Yes, I believe him. Which is unfortunate. He was the most logical suspect.”
. . .
Amanda lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t sleep. She knew she should be concentrating on what Marquit’s revelation meant, but she couldn’t. All she could think about was their ride home. The dark carriage. Hadleigh’s arm around her shoulder. Hadleigh pulling her into his arms. The desperation in his kisses. Her struggle to find enough air to breathe when he finally broke their contact. The look of desperation in his eyes. The look of passion.
They had arrived at Hadleigh House far too soon. The emptiness she experienced when he released her almost made her cry out in agony. The chill that replaced his warmth when his arms lifted from around her caused her to shiver.
She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone in her life. She ached for him to make love to her as he had before. She didn’t know how she’d survive if she never had that experience again. She wasn’t sure she could endure the rest of her life without having that memory at least one more time.
She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight. Then, held her breath when she heard a sound at the door.
She opened her eyes and focused her gaze on the shadowed form that filled the doorway.
Hadleigh took a step inside, then softly closed the door, and locked it behind him.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he said in the darkness.
Amanda remained silent.
He slowly walked across the room, then stopped when he reached the side of her bed.
“Tell me to go,” he said.
She shook her head. “I don’t want you to go.”
She lifted her arms as an entreaty for him to come to her.
He did.
. . .
Amanda awoke the next morning only to discover that he was gone. And didn’t intend to return for perhaps three days.
She sat at the writing desk beneath the window in her bedroom and reread the note Hadleigh had written before he left. He expressed his regrets, but said he had several matters to investigate concerning the Calliope Anne and that he would be gone for a day or two—possibly three.
He asked her to be patient until he returned because, hopefully, he’d have some clues as to the identity of the mysterious earl.
She didn’t know whether to feel disappointment or relief. She wasn’t sure she could have faced him after the night they’d spent together. But she hated to think that he didn’t want to face her either, and had invented an excuse to be gone for a few days.
Their lovemaking had reached unfathomable heights. The hours spent in his arms had been extraordinary. But perhaps they hadn’t been so special for him. Maybe he’d left her bed with feelings of remorse. Of guilt.
Of regret.
He, of course, would assume she expected him to repeat his declaration of marriage. And even though he’d mentioned something more permanent, perhaps his overtures weren’t sincere. Perhaps he’d only said what he thought was necessary to gain access to her bed.
Amanda chided herself at the uncharitable thought. Nothing in his advances had been anything but purely honest.
Yet how could she forget how difficult it had always been for them to get along? Perhaps his absence meant he had second thoughts about offering her marriage and needed time and space to figure out how he could undo what he’d done. Undo the pledges he’d made.
She pressed her hand to her middle. She could still feel the weight of him atop her. Still feel his naked flesh against hers. Still remember the incredible fullness of him inside her.
She brought her palms to her cheeks. She was surprised they weren’t on fire. She felt as if they should be.
She walked to the window and looked out. Her room overlooked the garden beyond his study. The garden they’d walked through several weeks ago, before she’d been shot. She could almost locate the exact spot where he’d kissed her. In fact, she could recall every time he’d kissed her and her cheeks warmed again because there were so many instances to recall.
She castigated herself for her indiscretions. What kind of woman allowed a man to kiss her as often as she’d allowed Hadleigh to kiss her? What kind of woman allowed a man to bed her without the benefit of marriage? What kind of woman enjoyed the things he did to her as much as she did?
She paced her room as if she had a destination in mind. As if she could escape her guilt if she walked fast enough. Covered enough territory. But she knew that wasn’t possible. There was no escaping the memory of last night. No escaping the depth of her feelings for the Duke of Hadleigh.
That thought frightened her to death. When had she forgotten how little she could trust men?
When had she forgotten that Hadleigh and she were like oil and water? They fought constantly—at least they used to. And more than likely would again at some point.
She sat down at her desk and pulled every note she’d made about what she remembered from her trips to the docks. There were pages and pages of details, many just insignificant scribbles, but there had to be a clue there somewhere. She refused to believe that all her work, that every risk she’d taken had been for nothing.
She needed this to be over. She needed to discover the identity of the mysterious earl. She needed Harry to be safe.
But most of all, she needed to separate herself from the Duke of Hadleigh. Clearly, she couldn’t
control herself when she was near him.
. . .
“You said to tell you the minute His Grace returned, my lady,” Nellie said, rushing into the room. “He’s arrived. Nearly an hour. But I just found out about it.”
“His Grace is home?” Amanda rose to her feet. Her heart beat faster.
“Yes, my lady. Barkley informed Cook that he’d need a meal later, but first he required a bath.”
He was finally home. The relief that rushed thought her was staggering. “Thank you, Nellie.”
The maid bobbed a curtsy then took a step backward. “Will there be anything else, my lady?”
“No, no. Thank you. That will be all.”
Amanda didn’t watch Nellie leave, but gathered the sheets of paper containing all the notes she’d written over the last three days. Notes that finally provided the identity of their mysterious earl.
She pulled the sheets close to her and rushed from her room and down the stairs. Hadleigh’s butler was walking through the foyer and stopped when she approached.
“Barkley, where is His Grace?”
“He’s in his study, my lady. Did you want me to announce you?”
“No, no.” She headed for the door to Hadleigh’s study. “I’ll announce myself. Thank you,” she said as an afterthought.
She’d been in such a hurry she’d forgotten her manners. But she couldn’t wait to tell him what she’d discovered. Couldn’t wait to tell him who was behind the threats on Harry’s life, and hers.
She rushed toward Hadleigh’s study but stopped outside his door. Hadleigh wasn’t alone. Someone was with him.
Amanda listened to the voices. She recognized Hadleigh’s, of course, and was certain she knew the other voice, too. But she couldn’t place it for several moments.
When she did, a smile brightened her face. The relief she felt was unbelievable.
CHAPTER 19
It had been three days since he’d left Amanda’s bed. Three days since he’d seen her, and they’d been the longest three days of his life. But they were three days he’d desperately needed. Now, he was on his way back to Hadleigh House. And to Amanda.
For the first time in his life he was forced to come to terms with the emotions that raged through him every time he was with her. But it was impossible to make any decision that involved her when he was near her. He couldn’t think straight whenever they were close. He couldn’t think of anything but how desperately he wanted to hold her. And kiss her. And make love to her.
Although he was sure he’d known this for weeks, he hadn’t come to the realization of how much he needed her until he was absent from her. He didn’t realize how desperate he was to spend every moment with her. He’d been more than eager to return to her. And that had been after only three days. When he thought of his future, he couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without her in it. And he was terrified that if he didn’t find their mysterious earl soon, Amanda would continue the search without him, and get into trouble that might get her killed.
It was obvious that her brother wouldn’t be safe until the trafficker was in custody. It was obvious her brother couldn’t get on with his life until he was forced to leave the confines of Hadleigh House and step out into public—no matter how reluctant he was to do so.
But most of all, it was clear that Amanda would never consider his suit until she was free to do so. And she wouldn’t be free until the man who wanted to destroy her brother—and her—was locked away.
So he’d spent the last three days interviewing the Earls of Stanwich, Lambert, Flanders, and Marquit. He drilled each of them, studying their reaction when he mentioned the Calliope Anne, and watching for any indication that pointed to them as the mastermind behind the illegal trafficking.
Unfortunately, he didn’t feel any closer now than he had before he started this. But at least he felt as if he were making progress by virture of the process of elimination.
His carriage stopped when it reached Hadleigh House and he dismounted. He was tired. He’d stayed at one of his clubs the last two nights and hadn’t slept well. He couldn’t wait to take a bath and stretch out in his own bed. But first he needed to take down a few notes of the details he didn’t want to forget.
“Good day, Your Grace,” Barkley said as he held out his hands to take Hadleigh’s hat and gloves. “I’m glad you’ve returned.”
“Is everything all right?” Hadleigh knew Barkley had kept an eye on the household while he was absent, and would know if anything were awry.
“Yes, Your Grace. Lady Amanda has asked about you several times during the last few days. Other than her concern, everything else has run smoothly.”
“I’ll see to her directly,” he said. “But first I need to take care of a few matters. I’ll be in my study for a while. Would you have a bath ready?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“And have the small dining room set for the evening meal. The lady and I will be dining alone.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
He turned and entered his study. The sooner he wrote down what he’d learned, the sooner he could take that bath. The sooner he could check on Amanda.
He pulled out a piece of paper, then dipped his pen in the ink and began to write. A knock on the door interrupted him.
“Yes,” he said.
“You have a visitor, Your Grace. The Earl of Haywood.”
Hadleigh’s gaze shot to the doorway. He laid down his pen and rose.
Barkley stepped back and the Earl of Haywood moved to the entrance. His broad-shouldered physique took up a great portion of the entryway. His familiar features were a most welcome sight.
“Come in, Haywood. Come in.”
Sterling walked around the desk and faced the man who’d once been his best friend—until Hadleigh had tried to destroy him—then had become an enemy.
He watched the man who was now his sister’s husband, enter the room. Watched as the man his sister had married and with whom she’d chosen to make her life, walked forward. He stopped a few feet away from him.
Hadleigh wondered what Haywood’s attitude would be. Had he wounded him so severely that there was no chance for friendship to develop between them? He prayed that wasn’t the case. Although he didn’t deserve to be forgiven by this man, that’s what he wanted most.
Hadleigh waited. Then the Early of Haywood did a very uncommon thing. He held out his hand as an offering of friendship. As an offering of peace.
“Hadleigh.”
Sterling looked down at Haywood’s hand. “Haywood,” he greeted in return.
Then, as if he couldn’t answer Haywood’s offer quickly enough, he clasped his fiend’s hand in a firm grip, and in a movement he didn’t take time to consider, he pulled his friend close and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
“This has been too long in coming,” Haywood said when they parted.
“Too long. And I take full responsibility.”
“But our differences are in the past, now. And we’ll speak of them no more.”
Sterling nodded sharply, then turned his head so Haywood couldn’t see how much his words affected him. “Thank you, Jonah.” Sterling pointed to a chair. “Please, sit.”
The Earl of Haywood sat, and Sterling poured them each a glass of his finest brandy.
“How is Cecelia?” he asked after he’d handed Jonah his glass and sat in a chair that faced Jonah’s.
A grin covered the Earl of Haywood’s face. “Congratulations are in order, Your Grace. You are the proud uncle of a strappingly healthy, and at times, very loud, nephew.”
The emotions that surged through Sterling were indescribable. He had a nephew. Cecelia had borne a son. When he looked up, Jonah’s face swam before him. He didn’t bother trying to hide the depth of his feelings. “And Cecelia?”
“Celie is doing amazingly well. She’s proving herself to be the perfect mother.”
“Of course she is. She’s a Randolph, after all.”
Jonah
laughed. “How could I have forgotten?”
Hadleigh raised his glass in a toast and they both drank to the addition to the Randolph family tree.
“Would you like to know what we named the babe?”
Sterling waited for Jonah to give him the babe’s full name.
“He’s called Sterling Nicholas James Armstrong, Viscount Roddenberry.”
Sterling felt the air leave his body. “That’s… uh…,” He swallowed hard then attempted to speak again. “That’s a hefty handle for a babe to wrestle with.
“Celie insisted that he be called Sterling.”
Sterling couldn’t face his friend any longer without embarrassing himself. He rose and walked to stare out the window. “Is it possible that Cecelia has it in her heart to forgive me?”
“I think naming our son after you was her way of saying she’s more than forgiven you. It’s her way of saying this estrangement has gone on long enough.”
Sterling turned. “And you, Jonah?”
“I am honored that you seem pleased that our son will have your name. And I am honored that you still consider me your friend.”
“I am the one who is honored. On two points. That you and Cecelia have it in your hearts to forgive me for the horrible things I did to you in the past. And that you have shown your understanding by naming your son after me. I cannot wait to meet my namesake.”
“That is, in part, the reason I am here. My darling wife made me promise that I would journey to London to discover how you’ve managed with Lady Amanda. And to invite you and her friend to return with me for a visit. If, of course, you can tolerate Lady Amanda’s company for the three-hour journey to Haywood Estate.”
Hadleigh wanted to tell Jonah that his opinion of Amanda had changed, but putting his feelings into words was more difficult that he thought it would be. Jonah had always been able to read him more clearly than any other person, and he didn’t want to him to read too much into his explanation just yet. The last thing he wanted was for Jonah to understand something he hadn’t come to grips with yet.
Sterling walked back to his chair and sat.
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