Temptation: 3 (Timeless Series)

by Sandy Loyd

  TEMPTATION

  By: Sandy Loyd

  Published by Sandy Loyd

  Copyright 2013 Sandy Loyd

  Cover design by Kelli Ann Morgan at Inspire Creative Services

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9891995-5-1

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author at sandyloyd@twc.com. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  For more information on the author and her works, please see www.SandyLoyd.com

  This book is also available in print from some online retailers.

  DEDICATION

  As with most of my books, I want to dedicate this story to my husband. He’s taught me so much in the years we’ve been married. He inspires me to write loving men who provide for their families.

  Chapter 1

  Late August, 1875

  “Hurry, milady.”

  Lady Penelope Lytton darted for the bed. She yanked a satchel from underneath and hurriedly began filling a bag large enough to hold all she needed, yet light enough to manage on horseback. Heaven above had provided a perfect opportunity to escape and she wasn’t about to botch it by dawdling. “How much time to you think we have?”

  Mindy didn’t answer right away. Instead, her childhood friend stood sentinel at the door and listened. Finally she turned back. “Ferguson figures Gervayse will be gone at least an hour, longer if the rain detains him.”

  Thank God the earl’s butler was an ally, rather than a spy like too many other servants in the earl’s employ.

  She continued packing as Mindy added, “The sooner we are on the road, the safer we will be. The weather will likely slow us as well.”

  Penelope slanted a quick glance at the window. “Just our luck it’s raining.”

  Torrential rain pounded outside. Wind rattled the glass panes. A flash of lightning lit the night, casting shadows of grays and blacks over the drenched landscape. Rolling thunder crashed in a roar so loud Penelope flinched at the menacing sound.

  “Traveling on rain-rutted roads won’t be easy.” She stuffed the last item into the bag, pulled it closed, and set it on the bed. Then she bent to fluff the down comforter over the padding she used to make it appear as if a body slept underneath.

  No doubt Gervayse would take a peek on his return. The earl’s minion watched her every move with the precision of a hawk searching for prey, but he wouldn’t actually breach her threshold. Only the earl took such liberties, and soon he would push for more. She’d glimpsed the truth in his cold, dark eyes. Her hands shook in terror at the memory of their last encounter.

  Inhaling a steadying breath, Penelope shoved the disgusting images away. “I wish we had more time to come up with a better plan.” She would not surrender to fear. Not now.

  Mindy secured her own packed bag over the sturdy slicker she wore. “Rain or not, you most likely won’t get a better opportunity.”

  How true, Penelope thought, nodding. The earl would return on the morrow. Her year of mourning was almost over. Either she fled tonight or she might as well submit to her fate.

  If only her parents hadn’t died in that carriage accident. Loneliness engulfed her and raw pain hit with the same force it always did when she remembered her loss. She wiped away an escaping tear. Crying did little good. It certainly wouldn’t change her overall outcome.

  Her parents had chosen the Earl of Kentworth. Had they lived, she’d already be sealed in matrimony as Gerald Knightbridge’s countess, and with a signed betrothal agreement in his possession, as well as guardianship granting him complete control, the earl considered her and everything she had inherited his property. Flight was the only option. Yet she hadn’t expected to flee on a night when no one, not even beasts, dared venture out.

  Penelope glanced at the pale blue pelisse hanging in the armoire and wondered how a garment created more for fashion than serviceability would keep her warm. And dry. Well, it was all she had and comfort wasn’t her main concern. She donned the finely woven wool cape, then grabbed her bag and positioned the satchel’s strap over her shoulder. “I’m ready.”

  “Ferguson said Geoff is waiting in the stable.” Mindy motioned and tiptoed out of the room.

  “Thank God for Geoff.” Thank God her childhood love hadn’t forgotten his long-ago promise. Filled with hope, Penelope stayed right behind Mindy as the two raced down the rear servants’ stairs. Once outside, rain pelted them. The whipping wind knocked both women back one step for every two. Penelope was thoroughly soaked by the time they reached Geoffrey Collingswood, the man she meant to marry.

  A jagged bolt of lightning rent the air. The flash highlighted Geoff’s striking golden features as a crack of thunder hit. “I procured my brother’s fastest horses, but we need to be careful of the ruts and debris in the road. Markham will kill me if one goes lame in this mess.”

  She nodded. The Duke of Wyndham would be more than livid if his expensive horseflesh became useless due to their midnight activities, and it would not matter one whit that Geoff was his youngest brother. Of course, if the duke discovered Geoff’s plans of marriage to her, he would quash them in a heartbeat. Penelope abhorred deceit, but the earl’s threats loomed. Drew closer with every ticking minute. Her life and escaping a monster depended on lies.

  Geoff eyed her cape and shook his head. “You can’t wear that. The pelisse shouts money and will cause notice. We need to travel as unobtrusively as possible.” He turned to Quincy. “Can she wear your slicker?”

  “Aye, m’lord.” The earl’s head groom nodded. “It’s been freshly oiled. It’ll keep her dryer ’an the bit o’ wool she’s got on.”

  Penelope shook off her sodden cape and traded with Quincy. She shrugged into the oversized garment, rolling the long sleeves several times. The heavy canvas swallowed her small frame—its weight adding to her already overwhelming sense of helplessness. “I have no money to pay him.” Her guardian, the earl, controlled every shilling bequeathed to her. She’d inherited her father’s lands and money due to an ancient codicil, but she couldn’t actually inherit until her twenty-fifth year. Oh, how she hated being under such a vile man’s control.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Geoff held out a five-pound note. “That should cover it, along with any inconvenience her disappearance might bring.”

  “Thank you, m’lord, but yer blunt’s not necessary. We love the young miss.”

  “Take it anyway,” Geoff urged, placing the note in his hands before helping first Penelope, then Mindy mount.

  Disguised as boys, both women wore trousers and muslin shirts, making riding astride easier.

  “You take good care of her, mind you,” Quincy said, his expression grim.

  Mounting, Geoff nodded. “With my life.” He slanted her a brief glance. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” Penelope clicked her heels into the horse’s flank to get the mare moving. Mindy and Geoff followed in single file. When they reached the street, they set off, traveling as fast as they dared. Eventually the three riders galloped across the bridge and headed north out of London.

  ~~

  Parker Davis pushed his mount relentlessly, leaning low and guiding the stallion around any obstacles in the rain-ravaged road. He still had another day, maybe two, if this weather kept up before he made it to his brother’s ship docked in the port tow
n of Tynemouth. As a US marshal taking on special assignments for President Grant, he’d finally concluded his latest case. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he’d connected with Lucas his first week in London and had had the foresight to send his trunks earlier, along with word he’d join his brother on the Tempest for the return trip home. Otherwise the ship would sail without him.

  Parker swallowed his impatience and continued on, allowing the horse to set the pace.

  Did it ever stop raining in this godforsaken country? For three days he’d trudged forth, accompanied with nothing but drizzly weather, downpours at times and fine mist at others. During his three months spent in England’s capital city, he’d seen very little sunshine.

  Around the bend, he yanked on the reins, hard, to avoid a collision with a fallen tree blocking the road. “Damn!” This was all he needed to make his miserable journey more miserable.

  If he never saw this dismal part of the world for another million years, it would be too soon, he thought, dismounting to walk the horse into the woods. When he veered around another tree, just as he neared the road on the opposite side of the fallen tree, movement through the dense brush grabbed his attention. He stopped, refocusing on the scene a hundred yards away.

  Something dreadful had happened, given all the commotion. Though no one could hear their shouts with the wind howling and the rain drumming, the men’s body language radiated tension—tension born of fear, anguish, and enormous mental pain—the kind Parker recognized.

  Since he traveled through Northumberland, he had a good idea what caused such emotions. Coal reigned in this part of England and mining was the livelihood of the masses. The closer he got to the crowd, the more the idea solidified, its truth mirrored in their faces.

  Spying a lone boy standing under a tree, he nodded. “What’s going on?”

  “A mine accident,” the child yelled, affirming his conclusion. “Ten men are buried.”

  Parker offered a quick prayer for the poor souls who suffered such a cruel fate, as well as one for those left aboveground to mourn. Though rain-drenched, the two dozen or so working didn’t seem to notice the discomfort, most likely more concerned with loved ones trapped beneath the earth. He fully grasped their distress. And their hope. The scene was all too familiar.

  Sadly, all too soon, they’d realize the brutal truth. Those buried were in their final graves.

  A flash of pain stabbed his heart as the moment his world had crumbled in similar circumstances filled his thoughts. Even after the passage of years, the vivid image of his father rushing toward him, shouting to get out as the rumble grew louder, never dimmed.

  In the blink of an eye his life had altered. Despite his loss, he’d been lucky. The earth-swallowing explosion that had killed his brothers and father, while also thrusting the responsibility of his then destitute mother and siblings onto his shoulders at the age of fifteen, had given him the drive to get out of such dangerous work. Spying for the Union Army in America’s War between the States had provided the lucrative means to fulfill his new role. Yet, the poor souls in front of him appeared as if they barely eked out a living, and without their own Union Army to provide some other means of survival, they had little choice but to keep eking.

  Parker tied his horse to a branch and looked at the person he’d determined to be in charge. Then he introduced himself and shook hands with John Cummings.

  Even after discovering the mine had caved in two days ago and hope of finding anyone alive seemed miniscule in his opinion, he rolled up his wet sleeves. “What can I do to help?” His past wouldn’t let him continue on his way without at least offering.

  Parker spent the next sixteen hours digging with the others, clawing at the mess and uncovering only one dead man for their efforts. Not long after, the search and rescue mission was called off. The sodden ground rendered the task too dangerous. The tunnels had to be shored up before anyone else could venture safely below, and that included rescuers.

  “Thank you for yer ’elp.” Cummings’s shoulders slumped in fatigue. His bearded face was haggard from lack of sleep. “Yer generous donation’ll ease some o’ their plight.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.” His heart heavy, Parker prepared to leave the group of townspeople with whom he’d found an instant rapport. No amount of money or digging would bring their loved ones back. And for what? So an English earl and his family could continue stripping the land while exploiting those unfortunate enough to be born without options? A miner’s life was an arduous one. No one understood that fact better than him.

  “Simply by carin’, you’ve done more ’an you know.”

  Parker nodded, then mounted and turned his horse east toward Tynemouth. His new comrades had imparted much information in the snippets of gossip he’d caught during his short stay. He held the Earl of Lytherton’s heir accountable for the horrendous accident. Though underage and living in London with a guardian, the heir now owned the mine, had reaped the benefits of subjugating humans to such horrors for years and, in turn, had inherited responsibility. No one would convince him otherwise.

  Just as his young brothers shouldn’t have been doing Henry Sterling’s dirty work, of lighting dynamite in tunnels barely big enough for children to squeeze through, these miners shouldn’t have been underground. Not in such perilous conditions the rain-soaked earth provided. Of course, either scenario was like a double-edged sword, cutting off a miner’s livelihood. If he and his children didn’t work, his family didn’t eat. Hunger forced too many to take dangerous chances, ending too many times in an identical outcome. Tragedy.

  Parker spurred his horse faster, wanting nothing but to make it to his brother’s ship, if only to escape this godforsaken country and the soul-eating reminders of his past.

  ~~

  “Nasty weather.” Arms bent, Parker placed them against the railing of the Tempest and looked out into the wet night. The torrential rain had finally abated, leaving a breezy drizzle in its wake. He leaned forward. For once he welcomed the warm mist hitting his face. “I never thought I’d arrive.” No amount of hard riding could extinguish the painful memories of the worst day of his life that his ordeal with the miners had conjured forth.

  “Hopefully, the storm’ll keep up so the winds’ll be strong for our departure in the early morn,” his brother replied.

  Parker frowned. “You aren’t pulling anchor and heading out with the tide?”

  “Plans changed. Tide’s already coming back in.” Lucas Davis puffed on a pipe and leaned his hip against the railing. He eyed Parker and grunted, clearly noting his agitated state, then offered, “I’m waiting on two passengers delayed by the rain.”

  “Passengers?” His eyebrows shot up. “You’ve always said they’re too much trouble.”

  “Aye.” He grumbled the assent. “Passengers usually are, but these two have paid a hefty price, which makes me bend my own rules. Besides, I’m doing this as a favor for a friend.”

  Parker sighed, impatience seeping out in his exhale. “I’m just eager to get home—to reach the shores of the United States.” He focused on his brother’s blue-gray eyes, so like his own. “I hate working in England.” A god-awful damp and crowded country, in his opinion. “It’s rained continuously since I headed north and London’s no better. Always gloomy and foggy.” He fastened his gaze back on the water. “So, tell me about our passengers.”

  “Don’t know much, as my friend didn’t elaborate. When someone flashes the gold, why ask questions when I care little for the answers? My only requirement is that they don’t impede my journey.”

  Parker grunted. If Lucas could make money on the transaction, he would. “Aren’t you even curious? I mean, your ship’s a decent size, but it’s still close quarters.”

  Lucas offered a careless shrug. “Two women traveling together won’t take up much room. I expect them anytime now. And if they’re easy on the eye, the scenery will improve a bit.”

  “Aside from having money to spend, what
else do you know about them? They’re not stuffy aristocrats, are they?”

  “No.” Lucas chuckled. “I know enough to keep my business acquaintances far away from you. I’m trying to strengthen my connections, not sever them.” He emptied his dark cherrywood pipe, tapping it upside down on the rail before filling it with fresh tobacco. “Instead of despising the aristocracy as you do, I find it much more expedient to use powerful men for gain and provide what they need because they’re willing to pay good coin for it.”

  He lit his pipe. Once lit, he inhaled and added, blowing smoke out with his words, “But rest assured, I have it on good word the ladies are merely immigrants looking for opportunity in a land that boasts of providing such. I gather they are running from something, but then aren’t we all.” He shrugged. “My friend vouched for them, which is enough. Hopefully, the winds’ll be favorable to ensure a quick journey without trouble. Two women on board are definitely a temptation and why I required a hefty fee.” He paused a moment, then added with a sly smile, “In advance.”

  “Attractive females could be a nice diversion.” Parker rubbed his neck and heaved a long sigh. “As long as they’re not—”

  Abrupt laughter cut off the rest of his sentence. “I know. As long as they’re not wealthy, spoiled lasses from the upper classes, you’ll be happy. Don’t you think you’re taking this animosity a little too far?”

  “I have no use for simpering pampered women, who believe they’re so superior to us unsophisticated underlings with no title or backing of big business to validate us.”

  “Like anyone would consider you inferior.” Lucas puffed on his pipe. The clean scent of tobacco rose, blended with those more foul, masking human sweat and the harbor’s stench.

  A moment later his gaze lowered to the activity below. Parker’s followed. Though angry, dark clouds hampered visibility, the gaslights on deck made it possible to discern several seamen loading cargo during the break in the weather to ready the ship for departure.