“My man of affairs, John Hamilton.”
Nicholas nodded.
“My God, man, you think it all a ruse?”
“I don’t know, but I’m damn well going to find out.”
Taking a folded bank draft out of his pocket, he placed it on the table before Pennington. “I have made arrangements for Isabella to have her own account. Tom Jenkins, my solicitor, will see to it. If you truly intend to make amends with your daughter, give her this as a gift after we are wed. I believe it’s the sum of her dowry?”
Pennington studied the bank draft suspiciously before turning his gaze back to Nicholas. “What are your intentions towards my daughter?”
“She’s in need of a protector, and I’m in need of a wife. Anyone who sets out to harm her will pay dearly.”
Ignoring the older man’s slight curving of the mouth, Nicholas gathered his coat. “Consider this your invitation to the nuptials.” With that, he left the study.
Nicholas showed himself out of Pennington’s home, not waiting for the butler—not that the man would show him any more courtesy than slamming the door at his back. Taking the stairs two at a time, he halted mid-step as he spotted a familiar figure bracing against the wall from the corner of his eye. With an annoyed grunt, Nicholas continued his descent knowing Harold would follow close behind.
“Ye followed me.”
“I was bored.”
Nicholas shook his head.
“And in need of adventure,” Harold confessed. “From the looks of your scowl, I might have already missed the lot of it.”
Shrugging, Nicholas climbed into their carriage. With a flick of Chambers’ wrist, the reins snapped, sending the horses into a steady gallop.
“What would make a man with coin abandon his kin?” Harold asked.
“He no longer holds substantial wealth.”
Harold frowned.
“He gambled most of it away,” Nicholas said.
“That wasnae vera smart.”
“I donna think it was intentional. Pennington thought Emsley loved his daughter.”
“But Emsley was only interested in money?”
Nicholas nodded. “And when he found Isabella had no more coin, it was easy to step aside.”
“Do you think he started the rumors of Isabella having lovers?” Harold asked.
“I’m almost certain. At the party, I got the impression he intended to make her his mistress.”
“A greedy cad, isn’t he?” Harold lips twisted in disgust. “Do you think he bedded her?”
Nicholas shifted. “It doesna matter, does it?”
“How can you be sure she doesn’t still hold affection for this Emsley fellow?”
Nicholas looked out the carriage. He did not answer.
Leaning against his seat, Harold did not press him further. “Mind telling me where we are going?”
Clenching his jaw, Nicholas continued to gaze out the window. Curse ye, Harold. He didn’t need an audience while stumbling through Isabella’s life. She’d been embarrassed enough.
“Baker’s,” Nicholas finally answered.
“For a man about to set sail, ye seem bent on a journey to recover Lady Isabella’s good name.” With a smirk, Harold again leaned against the carriage wall.
Nicholas wanted to shout the words, “I don’t give two pence,” but once said they would be a lie. He felt the overwhelming urge to protect Isabella.
He was always able to hide his true feelings from the world, but never from Harold.
Instead, he turned his gaze back to the window, the mundane filling his sight, yet he saw nothing, heard nothing, except Isabella’s swift intake of breath before their lips touched and the sweetest scent he’d ever known shook the walls of his world. “Ye know as well as I do, recovering Isabella’s good name will serve to increase Cassie’s chances into society.”
“Cassie is not of noble blood, Nicholas. While they may accept her, they will also know she doesn’t belong.”
“All the reason to be sure she doesn’t end up a spinster on my ship,” he snapped.
“If she has any of her father’s determination and spirit, you’ll be battling more gentlemen than ye think.”
“I’m not her father.” Those words hadn’t filled his head in ages. Cassie had been three months when she was given to him. He’d never balked at the responsibility. It was an honor to know one of his men would think him worthy enough to raise their child. But Cassie’s true father was more than one of his men. They had started out together, sailed from coast to coast. And they had survived battle after battle.
“You didn’t sire her, but ye are her father, and a damned good one.”
Jesu, the man had an uncanny way to knowing his thoughts.
“It’s not terribly difficult to surmise your thoughts when it concerns Cassie. You scowl and clamp your jaw. It’s a wonder ye havenae bit your paramours on their arse. I’m surprised you still have teeth.”
“You are being a mother hen.” Nicholas’s lips twitched and he knew that was Harold’s intent.
When they arrived at the gentlemen’s establishment, it didn’t take long for them to spot Lord Emsley sitting at a small corner table away from most of the other gentlemen. With a newspaper cracked and opened, he gave the illusion of reading. Nicholas had a sense the man’s ears were pinned for any information of consequence. That suited him fine.
“I gather ye have a plan.”
He hadn’t an inkling on the proper course of action. Driven by the need to make Emsley pay for hurting Isabella had been his only motivation. He’d definitely fumbled coming to Baker’s without a plan. It didn’t matter at the moment. They were here. Taking a seat two tables away from Emsley, they were far enough to escape the notice of other gentlemen, yet close enough to be overheard.
He looked around the room. It was late afternoon and soon the tables would be filled with gentlemen looking to drown in their cups. The smoky room and ready banter reminded him of nights aboard his ship when the voyages were long. It was precisely those times Harold and him had used to ferret out traitors from their mix. Looking back at Emsley, Nicholas remembered how Isabella’s father had lost a large amount of his fortune and decided Emsley would only be lured into a game he thought he could win.
“Is all prepared as planned for our voyage?” Nicholas asked.
When Harold’s eyes widened slightly, Nicholas jerked his head in the direction behind him. They had played this game before, using it to trap disloyal crew. He only hoped the man they were about to bait was no wiser than the ones they’d played this particular game on in the past. Greed sometimes clouded a man’s vision—at least he hoped it true now.
“Finalized the last order this morning.” Rolling a cigar between his fingers, Harold relaxed into his seat.
“Good. Any trouble securing buyers?”
“All are willing to pay top coin upon delivery.”
They were shipping their normal cargo with the exception of new fabrics, teas and coffee, but no one needed to know that.
“We’ll return wealthy men.” Nicholas grinned.
“And Lady Isabella?”
“We’re setting sail as scheduled, two days after the nuptials. That will secure me Pennington’s estates, which Isabella’s mother entitled to her, now to me through marriage.”
When he heard the paper crumple behind him, Nicholas smirked. The trap was set. If Emsley didn’t know Pennington’s property would go to Catherine, Isabella’s younger sister, he did not do a thorough job investigating. That also meant John Hamilton, Pennington’s solicitor, had not betrayed Isabella. Nicholas only guessed Emsley now felt cheated.
“Have ye plans for your share?” Nicholas stood, not wanting to linger. When Harold said nothing, Nicholas continued, his grin broader than before. “Baker’s has the best card room in town.”
If Emsley believed they had money to lose, he’d lure them into a game. Nicholas had no illusions about his ability at smaller games but, among more experi
enced gamblers, Harold was the best card player he knew. He was well aware that the man might even try to once again secure a hold on Isabella’s life when he left. Little could be done about that. He would, however, have his man keep a close eye on her finances. He trusted Virginia to be her companion.
“Shouldn’t you have warned me I was your plan?” Harold asked when they stepped into the busy street.
Nicholas grinned. Harold was an excellent card hand, and at the moment it was the only sport Lord Emsley took interest in. “And spoil your chance at adventure? Never.” He slapped Harold’s shoulder, causing him to wince. “Besides, you volunteered.”
“Funny, I don’t recall that.” Harold’s brows pinched.
“Huh, I could have sworn ye agreed.”
Harold cursed. “Ye bloody well know I didn’t.” He might have well have been speaking to himself when Nicholas grinned, then tapped the roof of the carriage.
Eighteen
Walking into Cassie’s room, Nicholas tapped on the side of his daughter’s playhouse and waited for her to emerge. He was not surprised when her head of tousled curls slipped through the makeshift curtain, a patch covering one eye.
“What do you think of a proper welcome for Isabella? A picnic perhaps.”
“Pirates don’t have picnics.” Her head slipped back behind the curtain.
“Oh.” He turned on his heels. “I’ll tell Mrs. Berths you declined a slice of her chocolate cake.”
Hearing her hurried movements, he smiled. His hands shot out as she rushed past him. “Don’t you think you should wear one of your pretty dresses?”
“No, Papa.”
Nicholas held her still. “Crumb-covered pants are no way to welcome guests, Cassie.” They had turned the house on its head and still they could not find the source of her trousers. He didn’t remember commissioning that many pants and thought perhaps the previous owner had sons and they had left a trunk behind.
She looked down, dusted off the knee-patches and smiled.
He raised a brow. “Didn’t you make a promise?”
She nodded.
“It’s settled then.” He watched her open the closet. Her eyes widened, and he was sure the task of picking a dress was new to her. “And Cassie,” he said. “Rid yourself of the eye patch.”
Cassie in hand, Nicholas went in search of Virginia and found her exiting the dining room.
“What a marvelous idea, Nicholas.” She squeezed his arm. “A gathering of Isabella’s closest friends is exactly what she needs. I only hope they have no plans for this afternoon.”
He had not thought beyond inviting the members of his household to a picnic by the pond, but Virginia made it seem as though they were to have a party. “Closest friends?”
“Not to worry, I’ve taken a tally from Isabella and dispatched your driver with invitations.” She paused, her fingers tapping her skirts. “It’s scandalous, I know, sending invites anything short of a week’s notice.”
“They may not show.” He didn’t bother to mention that Isabella would be disappointed if that were to happen.
“They will show,” she sniffed. “If for no other reason than to be sure she has settled comfortably.”
“Virginia,” he groaned, not pleased to have his business under scrutiny of others. “Who has she invited?”
“The Godrics, and Lord Daniel.”
Nicholas scowled.
“Now, Nicholas, this is to be her welcome. I must see to the food and sweets. Did you know the Godrics have a son Cassie’s age?”
“See to Cassie, she may require your assistance,” he called after Virginia. Shaking his head, he watched her turn the corner.
He’d hoped the small gathering would lighten the tension between he and Isabella before they were wed and increase Isabella’s comfort in his home, their home. He smiled. All the years of his youth, he’d never imagined a family. Now with a wife and daughter, Harold and Virginia, he had more than he ever asked for.
The tunes coming softly from the music room drew his attention. Following the sound, he stood inside the door and listened for a time. Isabella’s fingers were light and graceful across the keyboard. The blinds were thrown back. Light flooded the room. The brass-and-gold trimmings sparkled, dancing around the piano and its player. It was a sight he hoped to see often.
He barely noticed Mrs. Berths sitting in the chesterfield. Nicholas smiled and nodded a greeting. As chaperone, the woman looked as out of place as he felt.
“I didn’t know you played,” Nicholas said.
Isabella looked up. “There are a great many things you don’t know about me.”
“All of which you plan to teach me?”
She smiled coyly. “Perhaps.”
Glad she hadn’t stopped playing, he sat beside her on the bench.
“I’ve invited Daniel.” She did not look at him.
“I’ve heard.”
“You’re not annoyed?”
“Only that you’ve managed the task first.”
Isabella laughed. “Liar.”
Smiling, he nodded towards the keyboard. “You play beautifully.”
“I remember my first lesson.” She looked at him then. “I was five, perhaps six, and my instructor complained I had not yet learned to sit still. He was only appeased by my ability to play.” She chuckled at the memory.
“He complained to your father,” Nicholas guessed.
“No. My mother.” Her smile broadened. “Poor man. Mother tried to discipline me, but I still made my instructor perspire with frustration.”
Nicholas laughed. “Was she disappointed?”
“No, she wasn’t disappointed. Besides, we were too busy recalling the poor man’s twisted wig.” She smiled fondly at the memory, and Nicholas saw great love for her mother written across her face.
“She loved you very much.”
Isabella nodded. “My sister and I were terribly spoiled.”
“Did your father not share the same affection?”
Her fingers touched the keys again, and soft notes surrounded them. “Once, perhaps, before mother passed and the burden of raising two girls was left to him. Mayhap, if we were not so much like our mother…”
“Spirited?”
“Yes.” Isabella laughed as Cassie ran into the room, looking uncomfortable in her new day dress.
A knock came to the music room door and they turned. The first of their guests had arrived. Their conversation left him feeling hopeful that they might have more than an agreeable marriage.
Nicholas had met Lord Richard at the duchess’s ball and had liked the man. When the family approached, he shook the other man’s hand. He glanced towards an excited Isabella, who was awkwardly embraced by the very round Lady April.
Lord Richard introduced his son. “This is Emmitt.”
“A pleasure to meet you.” Isabella smiled then took the boy’s hand in hers. “This is Cassie.”
Isabella had barely finished her introduction when Cassie fumbled a curtsy, took the boy’s hand, and headed outside with her new friend.
“So impatient.” Isabella shook her head, smiling.
“Emmitt barely finishes one task before he’s on to the next,” April laughed.
“I’m glad you could visit,” Isabella said as the group moved to the back lawn.
“An afternoon brunch before the summer heat is fully upon us is a brilliant idea,” April said.
“And an excellent reason to leave the house.” Richard chuckled.
April rolled her eyes, looking at her husband fondly. “Richard believes, in my condition, I should have a permanent seat on the chesterfield until the midwife delivers our child.”
“Refreshments are in order. I’ll have iced tea sent down for the ladies. How about sherry, Lord Richard?” Nicholas asked.
When Richard nodded, Nicholas headed towards the library. From the window, he watched the children chase each other and heard their happy laughter. Taking a deep breath, he let that joy surround him.
Drinks in hand, he risked one last glance outside and noticed Daniel’s arrival in the garden and Isabella’s greeting. He considered going to welcome him, then decided against it, not wanting to meet Daniel just yet and giving Isabella the time she needed.
Standing beside Lord Richard, Nicholas smiled as the children cupped water into their palms, then threw the droplets at Virginia and Lady April. The women squealed.
“If April’s not careful, she’ll give birth in the middle of your pond,” Richard teased, taking his drink.
“I believe that is the children’s intent from the way they are constantly chasing your wife.”
Richard chuckled. “They have become fast friends.”
“As is the way with children.”
“I was surprised to receive your invitation,” Richard confessed. “It is no secret, your thoughts of high society.”
“It was Isabella’s doing; she considers Lady April a friend, and friends are always welcome, especially if they make Isabella happy.”
“Is she happy?”
Nicholas looked over the pond again. “It is difficult to judge happiness. I can only hope. Since I planned another trip, it is important for Isabella to see this as home.”
“Sail? So soon?”
“That, my dear fellow, will depend on my wife.”
Richard sipped his drink.
“Tell me, are you friends with Lord Emsley?” Before he went any further, Nicholas wanted to know where the man stood.
Richard cleared his throat. “I don’t believe the man has many friends, at least not in my circle.”
The hairs along Nicholas’s arms rose. “Why is that?”
“I’ve seen his paramours after separation, and more than once it looked as if they’d had an encounter with his temper.”
“No one reported him?”
“His father is a member of parliament and gives the boy free rein.” Richard shrugged. “Besides, no mistress would report her lover at the risk of new companionship.”
Nicholas grimaced, happy Isabella had not experienced Emsley’s wrath. “Is he as good at cards as I’m led to believe?”
There was a brief pause. “He’s a clever sort. He is bested when he becomes overconfident in his hand, but even I confess, that is seldom.” Richard looked at Nicholas. “Are you entertaining a match?”
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