Aiden blinked, drawing back from the guilt-charged memories, and lifted his gaze to focus on his friend. He witnessed Beswick’s concern and was grateful for it. But even his best friend didn’t understand the intensity of the self-reproach riding roughshod through him.
“No,” he said pushing back the exhaustion that threatened both physically and mentally. “I will not walk away from the bastard until he’s strung up from the rafters.”
“Mary was a sweet young girl when I saw her last, before we shipped out to Spain.”
The muscle in Aiden’s cheek twitched and he cast a glance at his friend and confidant. “’Tis a time that seems so long ago. When life was simple.”
“So much has happened since.”
Despair. Betrayal. The silent words grated across Aiden’s brain. Pain-filled words. Fury-filled.
“Nash is a dangerous fellow and murder is second nature to him. The law isn’t on your sister’s side. No one is interested in a battered woman. Once they’re married their property is the husband’s. Mary cannot complain.” His friend voiced the same concerns Aiden had battled for months.
“At least she’s left the bastard, though how I wish I’d been here to stop her in the first place.”
“You had a duty to your country.”
Aiden snorted his disgust and emptied his glass. “First and foremost is my duty to my family, surely. Mary is my sister and it was my duty to protect her and I wasn’t there to help her when she needed it. Nash wed her in secret, then abused her and left her a broken woman.” God, how he’d make that bastard pay for what he’d done.
Last night was another failed attempt at catching Nash in the midst of his illegal dealings and Aiden felt as if he’d run out of ideas. Worse, he wasn’t certain about Tess. She protested about Luther Gibbs, but the blustering fool was in league with Nash. Was she, too?
A waiter hovered nearby once more. “I think another drink is in order,” he stated more to himself. He nodded toward Beswick. “You?”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
With silent efficiency the waiter refilled Aiden’s glass and brought a drink for his friend. As he went to leave, Aiden said, “Leave the bottle. I may need it.”
Beswick eyed him, blue eyes piercing. “That’s not like you.”
Aiden tossed back the entire contents of his glass, then quickly poured a third. “I may need it, for it seems I’m about to get married.”
“Married!” Beswick shot forward on his seat. “You? You’re a confirmed bachelor.”
“Not always.”
“Well, yes, we all make mistakes,” his friend said of Aiden’s foray into the marriage den. “So who is she, and why?”
Aiden narrowed his gaze on his friend. “Could it not be love?”
His friend’s mouth quirked. “Doubtful. So, tell me, what is this marriage all about?”
“I’m helping someone.”
“Getting married to help a woman. That’s a novel concept. Who is she? ”
“Miss Tess Stanhope.”
“The young woman at Bancroft’s last eve.”
“You saw her?”
“How could I not? She was the most glorious young woman there.”
Aiden couldn’t disagree. Seeing Tess again had fired something inside his chest, something he hadn’t been expecting. In her dress of satin threaded with gold, she had taken his breath away. Aphrodite in person.
“How long have you known her?”
“An eve at most, though we did cross paths a few weeks ago.” Crossed at gunpoint. She had saved his life, so perhaps the least he could do was save her from hers.
“And you intend to marry her on such a flimsy acquaintance. Have you not learned from your nuptials to the bewitching Lillian?”
“I have no choice. I cannot in good conscience leave a woman who has asked for my help. What if it were Mary?” Would someone have helped his sister if she had asked, or would they have ignored her pleas? Aiden could not simply walk away.
“Stanhope? Stanhope? Isn’t she Gibbs’s niece?”
“Exactly.”
Beswick slapped a hand to his head and then shot up out of his seat. “Are you mad? Marrying—you’re marrying her to get closer to Gibbs. You didn’t know the woman yesterday, and now she asks for your help. And you tell me Gibbs is in league with Nash.” He fell back to his seat. “Aiden, don’t be a fool. This surely can’t be a coincidence.”
Aiden had his suspicions. They swirled constantly in his brain. But then there was their kiss.
Kissing Tess had been a mistake, a moment that had lured him in, weakening his defenses. He would not allow that to happen again. He was so close to getting Nash and couldn’t afford any hint of vulnerability, or allow a woman, even one as tempting as Tess, to divert his attention.
“Word on the ground is that Nash has taken up another interest.”
Beswick’s brows rose. “Other than robbing travelers at gunpoint? A man of many talents.”
“Ruthless,” Aiden added. “The bastard is stealing champagne from the French.”
“Do you have proof of his involvement?”
“Only the word of an informant. Apparently he’s moving large shipments from France,” he said with a degree of frustration.
“You can’t go out night after night prowling the roads trying to catch him in the act, Aiden.”
“What choice do I have?”
“You need a plan.”
He had thought he had a plan, but with increasing frequency Nash had proved elusive. Then Tess had stepped into his path and everything changed. “I have a plan.” Simply uttering the words, the tension rolled off him as a wave on an outgoing tide. He was a military man, a planner, structured.
He hooked his gaze with Beswick and nodded with grim determination. “You’re right. I don’t need to chase him on the byways waiting for him to hold up the next group of unsuspecting travelers. I need to catch him as he’s unloading and to do that I need to get closer to him.”
Swallowing back his drink, Beswick shot him a confused glance. “Pretty damned impossible, I’d say.”
Aiden’s mouth curved into a tight smile. “Not now that I’m marrying Miss Stanhope. Getting close to her will get me close to Gibbs and hopefully Nash.”
“You’re going to use her.”
Aiden shrugged off the sudden disquiet worming through him. “Why not? She’s using me.”
“Marry her, and then what?”
Yes. What exactly?
Resting his fingertips together he stared balefully at the flames licking at the logs in the fireplace. “Criminals are greedy, my friend—and impatient. Once Nash hears I’ve married Miss Stanhope, he’ll get nervous. And nervous people make mistakes. I just need to bide my time.”
“Really? I did not have you pegged as a patient man,” his friend quipped with a crooked smile. “And certainly it would not be classed as one of your virtues.”
“I have virtues?”
“Not likely,” Beswick agreed with a chuckle.
“I’ll be patient. If it means I get Nash, then wait I must. Though, God help me, it has taken its time. Besides, if Miss Stanhope’s uncle is in cahoots with Nash, she has to have seen something, or heard something. Gibbs postulates to anyone who’ll listen and I would bet my last guinea the man has said something to his wife and niece. He is a braggart and likes to play the big man in front of people.”
“And in the meantime you get to enjoy the delights of Miss Stanhope.”
Aiden choked on his whiskey. “Delights! Miss Stanhope, I agree, is rather beautiful, but she will keep me on my toes,” he answered, remembering her courage to take to the roads on her own. He drained his glass and pushed up from the chair, tugging out his pocket watch from his waistcoat. “’Tis late. I must leave.”
“Shame. I thought we could while away the morn together.”
Aiden shook his head, rubbing a hand across gritty eyes. “Afraid not, old friend. I’m about to go and get affianced.”
/>
…
Millie knocked and then quickly entered the chamber. “He has arrived, Miss,” she flustered, cheeks tinged pink, “and he is very handsome.”
Her stomach felt as if it were atop a riderless horse careening across the fields with no way to stop.
“Is he?” Her mouth dried, her tongue suddenly thick and unable to slake her moistureless lips. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Liar.
She had noticed everything about Aiden Masters the very first night they had met and though he may have been covered with blood, nothing had doused the essential beauty of the man. And she’d been staring out her bedchamber window awaiting his arrival for the last fifteen minutes.
She swallowed back her nerves. “Is he in the library?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Very well.” Rubbing her suddenly sweaty palms down the side of her gown, she glanced briefly at herself in the full-length cheval. She wore a simple gown of soft blue with sprigs of flowers embroidered along the curve of the scooped neckline. It was her best morning gown.
A frown creased her brow. Was she making too much of an effort?
“Silly girl.” The man was here because she had cornered him, definitely not because he wanted to be. She had the upper hand in this event, something she needed to remember and use to her advantage.
She leaned forward and peered at herself. At her lips. She traced their outline again, something she found herself doing repeatedly, dreaming of that kiss. Wanting another.
“So silly.” Her hand fell away and she straightened. She needed not love, nor kisses, but freedom. Love would not enter into this marriage, for to replicate the beauty her parents shared would be impossible.
Spinning away from her reflection, she nodded to Millie. “Right, I think it is time I went to meet my future husband.”
A few minutes later, about to open the door to the library, Tess hesitated as a wash of uncertainty stalled her progress.
What if he called her bluff?
Forced to marry a man of her uncle’s choosing…or blackmail?
Stand tall, proud and determined, her mother used to say. Time to remember that.
Shoulders back, Tess pushed open the door, her gaze catching sight of him the moment she entered the room.
Handsome. Breathtaking. And powerful.
Everything came crashing back. And more. The need for him to kiss her again was overwhelming. Beneath her gown her skin prickled with awareness.
“Mr. Masters, how nice of you to come,” she said, walking toward him.
He took her outstretched hand and a spark ignited beneath his touch. Bowing slightly, the piercing directness of his gaze slid beneath her tightly controlled composure, unsteadying her.
Remember. Stand Tall. Proud. And determined.
“You did not leave me much choice, sweet Tess.”
Sweet!
“Ah, that is love, is it not?” Her aunt’s words fractured the moment and Tess glanced at the older woman, wondering if she were in her right mind.
Straightening, Aiden directed his attention to Tulip. “I was expecting Mr. Gibbs to be present on this occasion.”
“He is…ah…at the solicitors.”
“Checking out the last of his investment, I would expect,” Tess muttered.
“I thought that was you.”
She offered a tight smile. “Very perceptive, Mr. Masters. Of course I am, but circumstances have changed.”
“You mean I’ve given you a chance of that freedom.”
“Definitely.”
The light in his eyes dimmed and Tess wondered what she’d said that had caused such a change.
“Did you blackmail him into letting you go, Tess?”
Her cheeks heated and she glanced over her shoulder at her aunt. Thank goodness she hadn’t heard. After ringing for the maid, Tulip was busy ordering tea and cake.
Tess redirected her gaze to Aiden and lowered her voice. “I did,” she said trying to act as if it were nothing. “My uncle gets to keep my trust monies and fritter it away as he wishes, and I get my freedom. Blackmail has come in rather handy.”
“Tess!” said her aunt. “Such talk is not appropriate from a young woman.”
Tess clamped a hand over her mouth, but failed to stifle a bubble of laughter. “Just as well I am no longer young, as Uncle reminds me frequently.”
Tulip tut-tutted, agitation obvious as her fingers brushed repeatedly up and down her gown.
Aware of Aiden’s intense scrutiny, Tess bypassed her aunt and stepped toward the bookshelf, idly picking up several books. “I was weak and not able to stand up for myself. I thought I had to put up with whatever he deigned my life would be.”
“But you don’t.”
“No. I don’t. And I won’t,” she said with pride. “My uncle has money problems, but he has dipped into my endowment to cover his multitude of business losses. My parents’ will stipulated that the money was for my benefit only, not for Luther’s failing businesses. A week ago, after Luther’s threats amplified, I went to visit my trustee. I was desperate. He informed me of the will’s requirements. At last, I had something with which I could use—and the strength to use it.”
“I gather if this information was in the hands of the courts he would be in a pickle.”
“He would. Luther has used the money for his own gain, despite knowing the stipulations. The threat of fraud was enough.”
“I’m impressed. It must have taken courage to stand up to that bully.”
“You say that as if it were difficult to comprehend. Do you not think that a woman can undertake such a task?”
His mouth quirked. “Oh, I do. Having recently experienced your expertise in the matter, I am certainly convinced that you, if not all your feminine counterparts, can achieve great things.”
“Just as the author Miss Austen has done.” She held out the lovely edition of Sense and Sensibility she’d purchased for herself. She distanced herself farther from her aunt, leaned closer to Aiden, and whispered. “Do not tell my aunt, she does not approve of such frivolous novels. Women, as far as she and Luther are concerned, should be focused on finding a husband, rather than reading. Do you not think that a woman can be as devious as a man, as a highwayman?” she asked.
The pulse in his cheek twitched ever so slightly. She’d noticed it before and now found herself unable to drag her gaze away.
“Women of the ton are renowned for their culpability. I am simply saying I had not expected it of you.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but it was necessary.”
“That I do understand. We all do what we must in life for the results we want.”
“Why do you talk of such confusing matters, Tess?” Tulip fussed. “’Tis not seemly for a young woman. Your uncle would not like it.”
Tess shook her head. “Uncle does not like anything I do, Aunt.”
Just then the door slammed back against the wall and Luther Gibbs blustered in. Cheeks ruddy, his waistcoat barely covering his ample girth, he glowered at Aiden. “She’s got no money, you know,” he said. He strode over to the sideboard, yanked the cork from a bottle of port and poured himself a glass, guzzled it down in one gulp, then poured a second without hesitation. “So it’s no use hanging around and sniffing like a lame dog.”
Mouth grim, Aiden watched her uncle’s every move. “’Tis not her money I’m interested in, sir. Besides, I understand those funds have been…misappropriated somewhat.”
Luther puffed out his already rotund cheeks and stumbled the few steps toward Aiden. He stabbed a podgy finger at Aiden’s chest. “Don’t you dare threaten me, you…you…you’re a bloody nobody.”
Tess gasped as she looked from her uncle to Aiden. Except for the flicker of the pulse in Aiden’s cheek, he did not move.
“I have not uttered one word of a threat, Mr. Gibbs,” Aiden replied in a controlled tone. “You would certainly know if I had, believe me.”
Through eyes red-rimmed from his all-night dr
inking session and lack of sleep, Luther peered at Aiden for several heartbeats as if he were about to say something.
Obviously having second thoughts, he emitted a low grunt and downed the remainder of his drink, snatched up the bottle and poured yet another one.
“Luther, should you drink so…” Tulip interrupted.
“Shut up, woman!” He pivoted back to Aiden, ignoring his sniffling wife. “If you want the chit, you can have her. And soon.”
“Thank you, sir.” Aiden offered a curt bow to Luther, who simply snorted and retreated to the corner of the room, carrying the bottle of port with him.
Seemingly over her distress, Tulip sighed. “Oh, how romantic. I do love a wedding.”
Tess rolled her eyes at Tulip’s utter naiveté, but caught Aiden’s humor-filled gaze fixed in her direction and her body heated in the same way it had when he had kissed her.
Could she handle this enigmatic man? Had she made an error in judgment?
“I’ll arrange for a special license so we can marry in a few days.”
Her stomach did a flip-flop. “That soon?”
“You want to wait with your aunt and uncle for another three or more weeks until the banns are read?”
Again, she hadn’t planned beyond this point. Something she needed to remedy.
“I didn’t think so. This way, with the Archbishop of Canterbury issuing the license, we won’t have to wait.”
“I need to find a cottage. I need time.”
Aiden’s brow creased. “Perhaps we could talk a moment?” He shot her uncle a glance. The man was already on his third port in a matter of minutes. “In private.”
“Of course.” She walked to the French doors that led out to the garden. “As long as you behave yourself, sir.”
His smile broadened, eyes twinkling with mirth. “You think I wouldn’t?”
“Oh, I do. That is why I’m warning you.” Drawing her shawl around her, she stepped out into the garden.
The winter sun peeked through the heavy gray clouds, and a soft drift of snow had begun to fall, dotting her shoulders in seconds.
“You think to have our marriage all your own way, Miss Stanhope?”
Tess caught the subtle change in Aiden’s tone, that same strength and determination she’d witnessed when he’d stood up to her uncle. However, she would not back down.
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