It was nearly dinnertime when the Kirkwoods left Amelia and Lucas on the doorstep of the Tovey town house, eager to get their own homecoming over with. As Amelia reached for the massive knocker, Lucas caught her hand, a sudden heat flaring in his dark eyes. “Whatever happens, remember that we’re married now. You’re my wife, and that should count for something.”
She tipped up her chin. “I should hope it counts for more than something, with you as well as me.”
He sucked in a harsh breath, then pulled her close to kiss her with a passionate abandon that curled her toes. She forgot they were standing on her doorstep with probably half her neighbors looking on from behind their curtains. She forgot that her father and stepmother were inside impatiently awaiting their arrival. She forgot that she hadn’t exactly meant to marry this stubborn, arrogant man.
When Lucas kissed her with the ardent sweetness of a lover, she remembered only that she loved him. So she kissed him back, putting her whole heart into it and praying that one day he could love her, too.
Amelia wasn’t the only one putting her whole heart into it. Now that the moment of truth was near, Lucas wanted to lay claim to her before all hell broke loose. Because if he was right about Dolly being Dorothy Frier, then Amelia’s affection for him would be sorely tested. And when that happened, he meant to have her firmly in his camp.
So he didn’t exactly mind when her butler opened the door to find them in a passionate embrace. Might as well give them notice that Amelia belonged to him.
As Lucas slowly released her, Hopkins stammered, “Oh, I-I beg your pardon, milady, I heard voices and—”
“It’s all right, Hopkins.” With a strained laugh, Amelia took Lucas’s hand. “And I’m not ‘milady’ anymore, for I’ve taken my husband’s name. Would you please tell Papa and Dolly that we’ve arrived?”
There was no need. The second Amelia and Lucas crossed the threshold, two people hurried out of the dining room and rushed to grab Amelia in their arms. As the three hugged and laughed and cried, Lucas stood back watching. So this gaunt gentleman was Amelia’s father. Which meant that the petite, delicate-featured female must be Amelia’s stepmother.
Amelia’s father looked more like a scholar than a lord, with his spectacles and his ink-stained fingertips. Unlike Pomeroy and even Kirkwood, Lord Tovey didn’t seem too concerned about appearances—his thinning brown hair stuck out in all directions, and his coat, cravat, and breeches were as rumpled as Lucas’s after days of travel.
But Lucas could see the family resemblance in his eyes and wavy hair, both the same chocolate brown that he found so appealing on Amelia.
Then there was Lady Tovey. During these months of searching, he’d envisioned a sultry, auburn-haired seductress, not a freckle-faced pixie with hair that was almost orange.
It unnerved him to see his quarry in the flesh—if indeed she was his quarry. She didn’t act like a deceitful woman. In fact, she was the first to pull free and include him in the reunion.
“And is this your young man, sweetheart?” she asked, her affection for Amelia apparent in every soft word.
“Yes!” Amelia exclaimed, blushing when she realized she’d abandoned him. She left her father to stand beside Lucas, sliding her hand in the crook of his arm. “Papa, Dolly, this is my husband, Major Lucas—”
“We know who he is.” Lord Tovey’s wary gaze assessed Lucas. “He’s the man who stole my daughter from me.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes at the unexpected attack. “Lord Pomeroy stole your daughter, sir. I only stole her back. And if you didn’t want her stolen, you shouldn’t have left her alone in London to be preyed upon by the likes of that damned fortune hunter.”
Lord Tovey bristled. “I did as my daughter requested.”
“A request you shouldn’t have indulged, with Pomeroy sniffing around her.”
Giving Lucas’s arm a warning squeeze, Amelia said lightly, “Forgive my husband’s harsh words, Papa. As a soldier, he tends to be overprotective of me.”
“And we’re very grateful for it, Major.” Lady Tovey stepped forward to seize her own husband’s arm. “I should have hated to see our sweet Amelia married to that awful man.”
When she cast Lucas an anxious glance, he understood instantly why Amelia defended the woman so fiercely. She looked like a little lost waif, not the full-grown temptress of thirty-two that he’d thought Dorothy Frier to be.
“Yes, Papa,” Amelia added. “Remember that if not for Lucas, I’d either be ruined or married to Lord Pomeroy.”
“Believe me, daughter, that’s the only thing keeping me civil just now. That, and the good report I’ve had of the major from Mrs. Harris.”
“And where is Mrs. Harris?” Amelia asked blithely, smoothing over her father’s gruff words.
“She was needed at the school,” Lady Tovey explained. “But she urged me to have you and Major Winter ride out to visit sometime tomorrow.”
“They can’t do that,” Lord Tovey said. “We’ve got to consult the lawyer about the marriage settlement. In fact, your husband and I should go back to my study right now—”
“Not yet, George,” Lady Tovey protested. “We’re just sitting down to dinner. Poor Amelia and her fellow probably haven’t eaten yet either, although they may wish to change clothes first.” She smiled at Lucas. “Lady Kirkwood had your things brought over here when she heard you were on your way, so everything is upstairs in the room adjoining Amelia’s, if you wish to freshen up.”
“I doubt he can wait that long,” Amelia put in. “I know I can’t. We’re famished.”
“Starving my daughter, are you?” Lord Tovey grumbled at Lucas.
“She eats whenever she wants,” Lucas snapped.
“Then why is she famished?”
“Enough, Papa,” Amelia said with a forced laugh. “I swear, if you continue like this, my husband will want to head back to America within the week.”
That silenced her father, sobered her stepmother, and set Lucas’s stomach to roiling. When he headed back to America with her stepmother in tow, would his wife be going, too? Or would she send him off with curses?
Right now she was chattering as they headed for the dining room. Lucas had noticed that Amelia tended to babble when she was nervous, and tonight was no exception. After they entered and took their seats, she launched into an amended tale of how Lucas had saved her from Lord Pomeroy.
She made her account entertaining enough to elicit a smile from her sober father. While the soup was served, she related Pomeroy’s self-serving excuses for kidnapping her. During the fish course, she glossed over the drugging part to leap ahead to how Lucas had rescued her, which seemed to soften her father toward him considerably.
So Lucas, of course, reciprocated by describing the beating she gave Pomeroy with the pitcher, which actually made her father laugh and her stepmother smile. Apparently, Amelia’s Amazonian side hadn’t escaped their notice.
But when Amelia began to describe their wedding, Lady Tovey burst into tears.
“Dolly!” Amelia exclaimed. “What’s wrong?”
“I so wanted to see your wedding,” the woman wailed. “I’m sure you made a glorious bride!”
“She sure did,” Lucas put in hastily, unnerved by the pixie’s sobs.
“Nonsense,” Amelia said, laughing. “My hair was down, and my gown was filthy. I looked like an émigré from the French Revolution.”
“Not to me,” Lucas answered. “You looked beautiful. You always look beautiful.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished them back—they made him sound like a smitten fool.
But at least Lady Tovey had stopped crying, and Lord Tovey’s frown had softened. And the dazzling smile Amelia shot Lucas made him want to leap across the table and kiss her senseless.
Damnation, this was killing him. All he wanted right now was to take his wife and flee England, forget about Dorothy and Theodore Frier, forget about his duty, forget about justice.
No, he couldn’t.
And if he let his wife’s smiles tempt him into ignoring what he’d come here for, he wasn’t any kind of man at all.
Time to start his investigation. He’d promised Amelia not to say anything that might alarm Lord Tovey, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t ask Lady Tovey some sly questions. “I understand that you’re originally from Boston, Lady Tovey,” he said in a conversational tone, watching Dolly’s face.
Her gaze shot to his, suddenly wary. “I…well…my late husband was from Boston, you see.” She picked up a glass of wine with a shaky hand. “I lived there while we were married.” She took a swallow of wine as if to steady herself, then smiled at him. “Have you ever been to Boston, Major?”
“No, ma’am. The closest I’ve ever been to Massachusetts was when I visited Rhinebeck, New York.”
When her face went pale, his stomach sank. He wasn’t the only one to notice Dolly’s reaction, for Amelia looked equally stricken.
“What were you doing in Rhinebeck?” Lady Tovey ventured.
He hesitated, wondering how far he dared go without breaking his promise to Amelia. “I was there on an assignment for the navy.”
“What sort of assignment?” the woman whispered, her eyes huge in her face.
He drank deeply of his wine, more shaken than he’d expected. It was one thing to trap a brazen hussy who’d driven her lover/husband to steal a fortune from the navy and quite another to torture a defenseless pixie.
“An assignment, you say?” Lord Tovey put in. “Is this the same assignment Mrs. Harris mentioned? The investigation of some disappearance of a criminal?”
As Lucas stared at him dumbfounded, Lady Tovey whispered, “What are you talking about, dear? Mrs. Harris said nothing to me about any criminals.”
Lord Tovey cast his wife an indulgent look. “I know, my love. She told me this morning before she left. She explained about Major Winter’s real work here. You were so busy preparing for Amelia’s arrival that I didn’t bother you with it.”
“How did Mrs. Harris know?” Lucas shot his wife a dark glance.
“Don’t you remember, Lucas?” Amelia said hastily. “Mrs. Harris’s cousin found out the information from his connection in the navy.”
Right—he’d forgotten about that. And, of course, the good Widow Harris had passed the information on. Clearly Lord Tovey had no clue of its significance, which meant he was completely unaware of his wife’s activities. But judging from Dolly’s bloodless features,she was beginning to guess why Lucas was here. Apparently even pixies could have dark secrets.
“Well, Major Winter?” Lord Tovey picked at his roast beef. “Is it the same investigation? The one regarding that embezzlement from a shipping company?”
Lucas searched Dolly’s face. “Yes.” As she stared at him with growing confusion in her eyes, he added deliberately, “I’m hunting a man named Theodore Frier. And his female companion.”
“Companion?” Lord Tovey said, completely oblivious to Dolly’s distress. “There were two of these criminals?”
Lady Tovey rose abruptly. “Pardon me. I shall return shortly.”
As she hurried to the door, Lord Tovey served himself more roast beef. “My wife means no rudeness, Major Winter,” the man explained, “but in her condition, the smell of food sometimes upsets her stomach.”
She was upset, all right. Lucas rose. “As it happens, I need to…er…use the necessary myself. Pardon me.”
It was a clumsy exit, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to let Dorothy Frier flee now, if that was what she had in mind.
To his shock, however, Lady Tovey was pacing the hall when he came out. Though she looked startled to see him, she put a finger to her lips and gestured to the parlor across the way. He followed her there, his blood pounding.
She closed the door, then turned to face him, her eyes alight with anger. “I know what you want, Major Winter. If indeed you are a major.”
That flummoxed him. “I assure you I am. Why would I lie about it?”
“Because you’ve lied about so many other things,” she said hotly. “I know this tale about an embezzlement is a sham. You’re here for the money.” Wringing her hands, she paced to the fire. “Well, I can give you some of it. I have five thousand dollars’ worth of jewels, at least.” She turned to him, tears shining in her eyes. “I’m sure I can get the rest if you give me time.”
He gaped at her, shocked that this had been so easy. Though she denied the embezzlement, that was probably just an attempt to save her pride. “So you admit that you’re Dorothy Frier.”
“Of course I admit it. I’m no fool; I know what’s going on here. You married my stepdaughter to get at her fortune, since you probably thought you couldn’t get your money any other way.” She blinked back hot tears. “You should have come to me first. I would have given you anything to keep you quiet about my past. I still will, but only if you swear to return to America and leave my poor dear Amelia out of it. Anybody can see she’s already half in love with you, so you must leave while she can still recover from her broken heart.”
“I did not marry Amelia for money, damn it!” he growled.
She thrust out her chin, though it trembled violently. “Pretending to care about her won’t get you any more. It’s bad enough that she has no clue what a filthy blackmailer you are, but—”
“Amelia knows everything—why I’m here, who you are, and what you’ve done.”
“Done!” Dorothy gaped at him. “I’ve done nothing!”
“Then why are you offering me money, why are you hiding your past—”
The parlor door swung open to reveal Amelia standing there with her father. “I’m sorry, Dolly,” she said softly. “I-I tried to keep him in the dining room, but when Lucas left, he got suspicious.”
“What the devil is going on here?” Lord Tovey snapped. “Major Winter, what is the meaning of this?”
For a moment, they all just stood there. Lucas was perfectly willing to tell the man, but he’d promised Amelia he wouldn’t. And Dorothy was clearly torn.
Then she shifted her gaze to Amelia, and her expression changed, became almost pleading. “What exactly did your husband tell you about me, sweetheart?”
“About Dorothy Frier, you mean?” Amelia said in a whisper.
Dorothy flinched. “Yes. About me.”
When Amelia’s expression shattered, Dorothy turned to glare at Lucas. “What lies did you tell her? What does she think I’ve done?”
“She never thought you did anything,” Lucas snapped as he saw the last of Amelia’s hope drain from her. “You’re the one who’s broken her heart, damn you. I knew you were Dorothy Frier from the beginning, but she kept insisting you couldn’t be the wife of Theodore Frier—”
“Wife!” Shock filled Dorothy’s face. “I was not Theo’s wife.”
“Common law wife, lover…”
“I was none of those things, you horrible man!” Lady Tovey drew herself up. “I was Theodore Frier’s sister!”
Sister? For a moment, Lucas’s entire world tilted on its axis.
Then he reminded himself what a liar the woman was. “The hell you were—are. No one in Baltimore mentioned his having a sister, and your employer in Rhinebeck described you as Theo’s estranged wife.”
“That’s because when I applied for the position of housekeeper, the Webbs said they wanted a married woman. So I showed them a miniature of Theo and me and said we were estranged. That part was true—I hadn’t seen Theo in years. Then one day he showed up in Rhinebeck to tell me he’d given up the gambling and gotten a good job in Baltimore. I could hardly tell the Webbs I’d lied.”
“Yet you expect us to believe you’re telling the truth now.”
“I know she is,” Lord Tovey said in a hoarse voice. “She was an innocent when she came to my bed.”
“George!” Dorothy said with a blush. “You shouldn’t tell him such an intimate—”
“To keep this scoundrel from accusing you of God knows what, I’ll tell him
whatever I must.” Lord Tovey glared at Lucas. “On my honor, my wife was chaste when we married. She told me Obadiah Smith was too old to consummate the marriage, and I believed her.” He stepped to his wife’s side. “As I believe her now when she says that this Theodore Frier is her brother.”
“We’ll see what Theo says when I talk to him.” Lucas fixed Dorothy with a dark frown. “Where is he?”
Shakily, she slipped her hand into her husband’s. “He’s in Lisieux, France. But I’m afraid you won’t be able to speak to him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s dead.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dear Charlotte,
I have heard that both pairs of newlyweds have returned to town. Rumor has it that Lord Kirkwood’s new father-in-law grudgingly agreed to the terms of the settlement his lordship demanded. As for Major Winter, no one has said what reactionhis new father-in-law has had to him.
Your gossiping cousin,
Michael
Dead?
Amelia gaped at her stepmother, as shocked as Lucas. And hurt, too, not to mention confused. Was Dolly guilty of anything? Were her claims even true?
Suspicion clouded Lucas’s brow. “Frier’s dead,” he repeated.
“Of pneumonia.” The words poured out of Dolly. “He fell into a river while drunk one winter night. He caught pneumonia and never recovered.”
Lucas scowled at her. “How very convenient.”
Dolly stared at him, clear-eyed. “It’s the truth, no matter what you believe.”
“I tracked him over half of France, and never found anyone to testify that he’d died. The last place you were together was Rouen—”
“No, it was Lisieux. We left Rouen while we still had the lease on a cottage. He was always doing that—moving on to evade his pursuers.”
“Me and the United States Navy.”
“No! Those gamblers from Baltimore. The ones who got so angry when he won money in a card game that they accused him of cheating.” Her eyes narrowed on Lucas. “The ones you clearly work for.”
Never Seduce a Scoundrel Page 24