Lord Margrave's Secret Desire

by Samantha Grace

  “Were you followed?”

  “No, miss.”

  “How can you be certain?”

  “I excel at cloak and dagger games.”

  She stepped forward and held out her hands. “This is not a game, is it, Kane?”

  He sobered and passed his hat. “It is not, Miss Darlington, and I would not have brought the duke here unless I was certain we were not followed. Margrave is more than my employer. He took me off the streets and provided me with a home and a purpose. I will protect him with my life.”

  “I see.” His admission appeased her. She turned away to hide her smile as she placed his hat on the entry table. “Follow me. You can consider your actions in the comfort of the drawing room and keep me company while the gentlemen speak alone.”

  Kane was telling her about the Duke of Stanhurst’s troubles on the road outside of London when a woman with dark golden hair and stormy eyes swept into the room. Stopping a few feet inside the doorway, she skewered them with a glower to rival any Sophia had ever seen from Crispin. There was no mistaking her identity. Sophia was staring at Crispin’s mother.

  Kane stood in deference. “Good day, ma’am. May I offer you this chair?”

  “Considering the chair belongs to my husband, you may not.” She lifted her slender nose, gawking at him in disgust as if he were a bug in her soup. “You may remove yourself from my drawing room.”

  Sophia rose from her chair, too. “We are sorry to have disturbed you, Mrs. Ness. If I may be bold and introduce myself, I am—”

  “Where is that man?” Crispin’s mother’s voice was sharp like a hammer striking a nail. She swung her head side to side, searching the room. “Drat, he is not in here,” she mumbled to herself.

  Kane cleared his throat. “Are you referring to the duke, ma’am?”

  Her eyes narrowed on Crispin’s valet. “Why are you speaking to me? I do not know you.”

  “This is Kane, ma’am,” Sophia said. “He serves your eldest son.”

  The woman sneered. “The help should be seen and not heard. Where is your master? I would speak with the viscount now.”

  The way she spoke of Crispin as if he were a stranger and demeaned Kane riled Sophia’s temper. “Your son is in Mr. Ness’s study, and I would thank you to speak civilly to his valued man. Surely, you have not forgotten my future husband’s generosity in granting you permission to make use of the dowager cottage.”

  Crispin’s mother appeared unaffected by Sophia’s reprimand. She twirled on her heel without a word and stalked from the drawing room.

  “Should we go?” Kane asked Sophia.

  “I am not budging.” She plopped in the chair to emphasize her commitment to her rebellion. “I expect this will not be our last row, and I do not wish to leave my future mother-in-law with the impression I will be an easy adversary.”

  Kane chuckled and resumed his seat. “You brought Margrave to his knees, Miss Darlington. His mother does not stand a chance against you, although I do not expect his lordship will ask you to endure her companionship more than necessary. He has done his best to avoid her until now.”

  “I can see now how unpleasant this must be for him.” Tenderness coursed through her, causing her eyes to well with tears. She wished Crispin would allow her to comfort him—after all, he was facing this hateful woman that he had relegated to his past in order to protect Sophia—but he had appeared to be made of stone last night when she questioned him about their private audience.

  Mrs. Ness’s angry voice carried through the walls. “Who gave permission for you to invite all these people into my home? I want everyone to leave. Get out and take that horrible, impertinent girl you have chosen for a wife with you.”

  “Mother, what has come over you?” Lieutenant Locke attempted to soothe her. “Are you unwell? Has something happened to Father?”

  “No, no. There has been no change, but I do not like admitting strange men to the house.”

  “Crispin is not a stranger. He is your son,” the lieutenant said gently but firmly. “Allow me to present the Duke of Stanhurst. We are honored to receive him as our guest. If Father was well, he would come below stairs to welcome His Grace properly. Father has always been known for his hospitality.”

  Sophia couldn’t understand Mrs. Ness’s muddled response, but it seemed Lieutenant Locke had the right touch when it came to calming her. She was no longer shouting. Mrs. Ness told the lieutenant she trusted him to know what was best. A few more words were exchanged, and Crispin’s brother offered to accompany her above stairs and look in on his stepfather.

  A door closed and shortly, silence descended over the downstairs. Kane caught her eye. “That was not the reception I expected, but it is refreshing to be disparaged to my face rather than behind my back.”

  Sophia smiled. “You mentioned Margrave rescued you from the streets, but you strike me as an educated man. What is your story?”

  “The tale of my reduced circumstances is dull,” he said with a shrug, “but my father was a vicar. I was orphaned and had no one to take me in as a ward, so I traveled to London to find work. Your betrothed stumbled across me picking pockets a year later and set me back on a path toward respectability.”

  “You are a spy.”

  “For my King.” Kane grinned, showing his dimple again. “Is there a more noble profession?”

  Crispin entered the drawing room. “Keep the duke occupied,” he said to Kane.

  “Yes, sir.” The younger man left Sophia and Crispin alone.

  His frown caused her mouth to grow dry. Before he reached the chair his valet had vacated, she blurted, “I apologize for antagonizing your mother, but she was behaving insufferably.”

  Crispin paused. His heated gaze ensnared her; she was unable to look away. His eyes were the most interesting combination of colors—a deep brown at first glance, but much more complicated than they appeared. Hints of green and silver were only noticeable when one was bold enough to meet his stare.

  “I assume my mother was unpleasant,” he said, “and you put her in her place. Perhaps she should be the one apologizing.”

  If Sophia’s quarrelsome encounter with his mother hadn’t put the glower on his face, one other possibility remained. “I tried to discourage Aunt Beatrice from going outside, but you know how strong-willed she can be.”

  Calmly, he lowered onto the chair and held out his hand. “Come here, Sophia.”

  “What? Come where?”

  “Here.” He patted his knee.

  She crossed her arms. While she had agreed to abide by his rules as long as there was danger, a quick decision had been required today. Aunt Beatrice couldn’t be allowed to wander off alone. “If you have something to say, I can hear you from where I am sitting.”

  “Perhaps I do not wish to talk.” His eyes glittered with something fierce. Her stomach fluttered. “Come to me.”

  Her resistance was short-lived. She was out of her seat and approaching him before realizing she had made a decision. When she extended her hand, he trailed his fingertips over hers. Lovely shivers skated along her skin, settling in her chest with a tingling ache.

  “I neglected to make something clear earlier.” His husky voice elicited a shocking pulse between her legs. She pressed her thighs together as warmth climbed into her cheeks. He must know how he affected her, how badly she wanted him to touch her in ways no proper lady should imagine.

  “How careless of you, my lord.”

  “Very careless”—he continued to caress her hand, tracing the lines crossing her palm—“and I intend to correct the oversight.” He grasped her hand and tugged her onto his lap. She squealed with surprise as her bottom landed on his knee.

  “Crispin!”

  He wrapped one arm around her waist and cradled the back of her neck. “I cannot bear another moment in the same room without touching you.” He nuzzled her cheek. “What have you done to me?”

  “I do not know, but I refuse to undo it.” She reached for the end o
f his cravat, toying with it as she gazed at him from beneath her lashes. “Is that all you wished to say? I thought you were going to call me on the carpet.”

  “Make no mistake, Miss Darlington. That was my intention, but I find you have grown even more irresistible after locking myself in the study all morning. I will save the scolding for later.”

  “How delightful. I will attempt to contain my excitement.”

  He chuckled before nipping her mouth. She inhaled sharply and leaned into his kiss, but he pulled back with a teasing grin. “Or perhaps I will take you over my knee and teach you a lesson.”

  She snorted softly. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” He placed another peck on her mouth.

  “You know what I think, my lord?” She twined her arms around his neck and smiled. “You have no intention of laying a hand on me.”

  His jovial manner subsided. “Never in anger, darling,” he said solemnly. “I will never hurt you. You have my oath.”

  “I know you, Crispin. I require no oath.”

  “Yet, I give it to you.” He slid his hand along the curve of her waist, stopping just below her breast. “However, I cannot promise to keep my hands to myself when we are wed. I hope you will not ask it of me.”

  She exhaled unevenly. Would he think her too bold if she admitted the truth? She wet her lips and decided to assume the risk. “Quite the opposite, I think. I am eager to enjoy the benefits of marriage.”

  “Gads,” he groaned and urged her to climb off his lap. “Perhaps it would be best to send you to your seat. I have something to discuss that cannot wait.”

  She lowered her head, embarrassed to have spoken of her desires. “Of course,” she mumbled. He escorted her back to the chair she had claimed earlier. Once she was seated, she arranged her skirts around her, avoiding eye contact.

  “Sophia?”

  “Hmm...?”

  He leaned forward in the chair and waved to capture her attention. “Will you look at me, please?”

  Heat singed her face. She reluctantly lifted her gaze.

  He relaxed against the chair cushion. “It appears you noticed my own eagerness. Forgive me. I did not intend to embarrass you, or myself.”

  “I do not under—” The accidental lesson in male anatomy she had received when she’d stumbled across a piece of Greek pottery at Wedmore House flashed through her memory. Of their own accord, her eyes sought out his lap. They widened. “Oh!”

  “Sophia.” He laughed, seemingly unbothered by her curiosity, despite the gentle rebuke. Not a trace of a blush colored his face, and he made no move to hide his arousal. She laughed too.

  “I am sorry, but what did you expect? You must have realized I would look.”

  One side of his mouth inched up. His eyes appeared greener, as they tended to do when he was happy or amused. “A change of topic is in order, I think. Otherwise, I will forget the reason I sought you out.”

  A rush of pleasure washed over her knowing he was just as affected by her as she was by him. It boded well for a happy union like her mother had written about in her diary—like Regina had found with Xavier.

  “I would like to ask for your help,” Crispin said.

  “Of course. If I am able, I am willing.”

  “Thank you.” He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Did Kane tell you the duke was involved in an accident?”

  “He said Stanhurst’s carriage was run off the road, and a man tried to murder him.”

  Crispin grimaced. “I see he was thorough.”

  “As he should be. If the duke’s ordeal has anything to do with my own, no detail should be spared.”

  “Should your aunt not be afforded the same consideration?”

  Sophia shook her head. “It will distress her too much. I cannot allow it.”

  “You do not give Beatrice enough credit. She is stronger than you realize. Telling her the truth will make the task of keeping her safe easier, and she deserves to know.”

  “Aunt Beatrice is my concern. Regina left her in my care, and I will protect her as I see fit.”

  Crispin’s jaw firmed. His brows lowered over his eyes. She steeled herself for battle, but he did not engage. “The duke recovered letters belonging to his brother,” he said, “but they have been written in cipher. I would like you to study them and render an opinion.”

  She blinked, completely thrown by his request. “I—I have no knowledge of ciphers. I am not sure how I can be of assistance.”

  “You are capable of seeing patterns others do not. I wish you to help determine if the author of the letter used a book cipher or created his own.”

  “What is the difference? May I see the letters?”

  Crispin reached into his jacket and retrieved a folded piece of paper. “There are more in the study. Stanhurst recovered a stash from his brother’s chamber at the manor house.”

  She accepted the paper he extended and unfolded it. “There are no words.”

  “If Lord Geoffrey and his letter writer used a book cipher, the numbers represent the page, line, and word of a book they have in common. It would be the simplest method, although one must know which book they used to decipher the messages.”

  “And if he created one of his own?”

  “Numbers represent letters of the alphabet. Often multiple numbers are used for the same letter, and others are null. They represent nothing.”

  Sophia took a cleansing breath. The task sounded complicated but possible.

  “Once you determine which type of cipher is used,” he said, “I will endeavor to decipher the messages.”

  “Are you unable to study the letters and make a determination?”

  “I could, given time, but I expect you will be faster.”

  Her chest burst with pride and pleasure. Men rarely saw beyond her beauty and recognized her gift, and if they did, they often found her abilities disquieting. Once when she was a child, she and Aunt Beatrice overheard a footman call her unnatural. Auntie had dismissed him at once and reassured Sophia of her specialness.

  You are blessed, dearest. Never allow anyone to tell you otherwise.

  She smiled at Crispin. “I will start on the letters today. Would you like to retrieve them while I wait?”

  “In a moment, but there is another matter I need to discuss.” He adjusted his position on the chair. “Tomorrow I am leaving in search of Farrin and his men.”

  Her heart plummeted. “No! Why must you go? You said no one followed us.”

  “It is only a matter of time before they discover our whereabouts. My carriage would not have escaped notice, and eventually, one of Farrin’s men will speak with the right person.”

  “You said we would be safe here.”

  “For a time, but we are being hunted.” His gaze darkened, frightening in his intensity. “I am the hunter, Sophia. I must find them first.”

  “No, we need you here.”

  “You will be safe. Kane will remain to keep watch over you.”

  She huffed in frustration. Why must he risk himself? “Send a message to the Consul—to whomever is in charge. Tell them what you’ve learned and set them on Farrin’s trail.”

  “I do not know who to trust. Farrin could have corrupted others, and I cannot risk placing a larger target on your back by revealing what I know.” He winced slightly and rubbed his temple. “Frankly, I haven’t much to tell. We know he murdered the Stanhursts, but the only witnesses are out of the country, and we have no proof of any other wrongdoing.”

  “Farrin tried to rob Wedmore House. How is that aboveboard?”

  “Sophia, I cannot accuse a man of a crime without evidence.”

  She pushed from the chair and paced the length of the carpet, frantic to find an argument to dissuade him from pursuing these murderers. She stopped in front of him and threw her hands out at her sides. “I am a witness. Allow me to make the accusation.”

  He frowned. “Did you see Farrin break into your uncle’s home? Did you see on
e of his men?”

  “No, of course not. Farrin sent Xavier.”

  “Your sister married the trespasser. Your credibility will be called into question.”

  She stopped pacing and faced him; her hands landed on her hips. “I am your betrothed. I forbid you to go.”

  “It does not work that way, darling.”

  “And why not? You make demands of me.”

  A half-smile tinged with regret spread across his face. “The burden of responsibility falls to me. It is my lot. I will not fail in my duties.”

  Her lips parted, but she had lost her voice. She wished to help him carry part of his burden. She had expected that to be her role in marriage, but doubt had eked into her bones in the meadow, threatening to change her into someone that she feared she would no longer recognize. She had been useless to him.

  I am the burden.

  A sob welled at the back of her throat. She covered her mouth to catch it and fled the room.

  Twenty-one

  Crispin stopped himself when he leapt from the chair to give chase. Sophia glided through the doorway and disappeared from sight. Her life had been flipped sideways. Perhaps she needed time alone.

  Or maybe I should go to her?

  Why must he always feel as if he were standing on shifting ground when it came to her? With a sigh, he returned to the study where Kane was keeping guard over Stanhurst.

  Crispin did not trust easily. Every instinct screamed for him to treat the duke as an enemy, even though Stanhurst’s actions made it difficult to classify him as such. The duke could have destroyed the letters without anyone being wiser. He hadn’t. Instead, he was bringing them forward at considerable risk to himself.

  If the letters proved to be an act of treason and the duke’s father was a willing culprit, Stanhurst could be stripped of his title and lands. Even if Lord Geoffrey was the only guilty party, the scandal could make the duke and his sisters into pariahs. Stanhurst’s face had been pale and grim when he had acknowledged the possibility earlier.

  It is my moral obligation to bring this to light. What is a man if he has no loyalty to King and country?