The Traitor's Club: Ford

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The Traitor's Club: Ford Page 11

by Laura Landon


  “Why?” the admiral said in a shaky voice.

  “Why? You ask why?” Shatterly lifted his face to the moonlight and laughed again. The sound came from deep within him and boomed into the silence of a park long emptied. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what, George?”

  “What it’s like to live in your shadow. What it’s like to go to school with you and never be good enough to draw our instructors’ attention like you always did. What it’s like never to be liked by the other fellows as much as you were. What it’s like to fight alongside you during the war and not get the credit or accolades you received. To take the same risks you took and not get rewarded with a shipping company as you’ve been rewarded.”

  Viscount Shatterly’s demeanor turned hostile, the tone of his voice bitter and vile. “Do you know what it’s been like to live in your shadow my entire life?”

  “Did you need money, George? If you did, you only had to—”

  “No!” Shatterly yelled as he swung his hand through the air. “I didn’t need money! I have more money than I’ll ever need! What I needed was for everyone to realize that you weren’t the omnipotent god the world thought you were! What I needed was for Her Majesty to realize you were not the infallible success she thought you were. That you were incapable of running the shipping company she’d given you. What I needed was for everyone to finally discover that you were actually a failure. That I was the one who made you! I was the one who stood beside you and told you what moves to make! I was the one—”

  “No!” the admiral bellowed. “You were not the one! You may have wanted to be, but you never were!”

  Without warning, Shatterly pulled a pistol from his coat and fired.

  Before Shatterly’s bullet could hit his intended victim, the four members of the traitor’s club fired their weapons.

  Shatterly sank to the ground and didn’t move.

  Ford turned to see if the admiral had been shot, then froze.

  “No!”

  He ran to where Callie lay limp against the admiral. Ford scooped her up and moved toward the gate. “Where’s your carriage?” he yelled back to Lord Dunhurst.

  “Straight ahead.”

  Ford raced to the carriage. Dunhurst already had the door open. Ford stepped up with Callie in his arms, and the carriage lurched forward.

  “Remove her cloak,” he ordered Callie’s father. “See where she’s been injured.”

  Lord Dunhurst lifted Callie’s cloak from her shoulders. The slight movement caused Callie to moan.

  “You’re going to be fine, Callie,” Ford whispered. “We’ll get you home and take care of you.”

  “Papa?”

  “I’m here, Callie. Right here.”

  “I think I’ve been . . . shot.”

  “Yes, Callie. I think you have been.”

  “Don’t leave me . . . Papa.”

  “I won’t, Callie. I won’t leave you.”

  Ford’s heart raced in his chest. They needed to get her home. He needed to see how badly she’d been injured.

  He looked down and saw the dark spot on her upper arm. He pressed his hand to the place where she’d been shot, and his fingers came away wet. He stripped the cravat from around his neck and gathered it together to make a bandage of sorts.

  “I’m sorry,” Ford said. “This is going to hurt, Callie. But I have to stop the bleeding.”

  He pressed the cloth to her arm, and she cried out. “I’m sorry, Callie. Just lie still. Don’t move. We’ll be home soon.”

  “You were . . . right,” she said on a raspy whisper. “It was . . . Shatterly. You won . . . But you always do . . . don’t you . . . Captain?”

  Her words ripped through him like a double-edged rapier. “No, my lady. I don’t always win,” he said. “I was hoping I was wrong. I didn’t want your grandfather to be hurt.”

  “Too . . . late.”

  The carriage hit a bump in the road, and Callie cried out, then went limp in his arms. Ford held her close until the carriage came to a halt, then he bolted with her in his arms and raced through the open doorway.

  “This way!” Lord Carmody led the way up the stairs to his sister’s room. “We’ve sent for the doctor. He should be here any minute.”

  Lady Dunhurst rushed in, her face pale and lined with fear. But she comported herself with a strength Ford admired. The same strength he’d often seen in Callie.

  “Lay her here,” Callie’s mother instructed, then motioned for several female servants to assist her. “You men may leave now,” she said as she dismissed them. “We’ll take care of Calinda until the doctor arrives.”

  Ford didn’t want to go. He wasn’t sure he could leave her.

  But Callie didn’t want him there. Her words were proof enough of that. To her he was just another traitor.

  CHAPTER 17

  Ford sat with Callie’s family in Lord Dunhurst’s study surrounded by his friends. He stared at the brandy in his snifter but didn’t lift the glass to his mouth to drink any of Lord Dunhurst’s fine liquor. He was afraid once he took his first swallow, he wouldn’t stop.

  “How did you know, Captain?”

  Ford lifted his gaze to look into the haunted eyes of Admiral Barclave. This man of advanced years had seen more than his share of hardships. He’d seen the travesty of war, the loss of good men, and now he had discovered that the man he thought was his best friend was not really a friend at all, but had hated him his whole life. The admiral looked as though he’d lost everything.

  The admiral looked like Ford felt.

  “I wasn’t sure. I hoped I was wrong.” Ford raked his hand across his face. “But when I considered all the possibilities, everyone else I considered as a suspect had been eliminated.”

  The admiral’s eyes shifted from one traitor to the next, then focused on Ford. “I’d like to personally thank you and your friends, Captain. You saved my life. And you saved the life of my granddaughter.”

  At the mention of Callie, a knife slashed through Ford’s heart.

  “I appreciate everything you and your friends did. But before I retire to my room for the night, I have one more question.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  “I assume you didn’t simply happen to visit the shipping office all those weeks ago and offer to help my granddaughter discover who was stealing.”

  “No, Admiral.”

  “Were you sent by Her Majesty?”

  Ford breathed a heavy sigh. “Indirectly, yes.”

  The admiral’s head bobbed up and down in acknowledgment of what that indicated. “I’ve dealt with Her Majesty for several years now and have never known our Queen to issue an order without offering fair payment. What exactly did Her Majesty offer you?”

  Ford looked at the brandy rippling in his glass, then lifted it to his mouth and took a drink. “It doesn’t matter what Her Majesty offered me, I have no intention of accepting it.”

  “That wasn’t my question, Captain.”

  “I know,” Ford said, rising to his feet and walking to the fireplace. He stood far enough away from the flames that the heat couldn’t reach his already warm body. He couldn’t answer the admiral. The man had been through enough already this evening. He didn’t need to hear any more upsetting news.

  “I appreciate your reluctance to offend my feelings, Captain. But by your silence, you have answered my question. Correct me if I’m wrong,” the admiral continued, “but I assume the reward Her Majesty offered is my half interest in the Crown’s Shipping Company.”

  Ford braced his hand against the mantel and lowered his head. Even though he didn’t turn to face the people in the room, he felt every pair of eyes focused on him. He knew that every one of them—with the exception of Hugh, who already knew what he’d been offered—wore an expression of shock and disbelief.

  “Yes, but I intend to reject her offer,” Ford answered.

  “No, you won’t,” the admiral corrected in a firm voice.

  Ford tu
rned. “I cannot and will not take your shipping business away from you.”

  “Son,” the admiral said, “you’re not taking anything away from me. I am handing over the reins of the company willingly. I say this here and now so there is no misunderstanding.” The admiral let his gaze move to every person in the room. “You are the perfect choice to run the shipping company. This doesn’t mean that I won’t still be there to offer my counsel and advice, but I am at an age where I no longer feel able to run Her Majesty’s ships.”

  “But you have a granddaughter who can,” Ford countered.

  “Then she can be at your side to assist you.”

  Ford lowered his head and smiled, but the smile wasn’t indicative of humor. Cheer was the last emotion he felt. “I doubt that Lady Calinda will agree to such terms.”

  “Then that will be her loss. What I said stands. I will go to Her Majesty myself to assure her of my willingness to place the shipping company into your capable hands.”

  The admiral rose to his feet. “Now, it’s been a long and tiring night. I bid you all a pleasant evening,” he said, and turned to the door.

  “May I walk with you?” the Earl of Dunhurst asked.

  The elder marquess and war hero looked at his son and smiled. “I’d appreciate that, Dunhurst.”

  Everyone in the room rose as the admiral and his son left.

  Admiral Barclave had been one of the most influential military heroes to Ford when he was a student, and then an even more significant one as Ford matured and took his place as an officer during the war. But he’d never admired the man as much as he did now. Admiral Barclave was never more a hero than he was at this moment.

  Ford realized he would never be able to fill the shoes he was about to step into.

  . . .

  Callie opened her eyes and looked around the room. The sun was just making an appearance. She was eager for the announcement of a new day. A day when she and the admiral could put everything that happened last night behind them. But when she remembered the devastating magnitude of the details of the previous night, she knew that was impossible.

  Her gaze shifted to the wing chair beside her bed. Her mother sat there with her eyes closed and a cover thrown over her. It was obvious her mother had been there all night.

  She moved slightly, then moaned when the pain from her arm stabbed through her.

  “Calinda?” Her mother opened her eyes and sat forward.

  “I’m fine, Mother. I just moved too quickly.”

  “Can I get you anything? Something to ease the pain?”

  “No. It doesn’t hurt that badly.”

  Her mother rose, then brought a glass of water to Callie’s lips. “Are you up to a visitor?” her mother asked after she took a few sips of water.

  “No. If it’s Captain Remington, I don’t want to see him.”

  “It’s not Captain Remington. It’s Lieutenant Wythers. He’s been waiting outside for several hours. He said he needs to leave but wants to make sure you are all right before he goes.”

  Callie closed her eyes. “Yes, send him in. But don’t leave, Mother.”

  Lady Dunhurst looked shocked. “Of course not, Calinda. That would hardly be proper.”

  Callie fought the painful guilt that raged through her. She remembered the days she’d spent at Captain Remington’s bedside when he’d been shot. She remembered the personal ways she’d touched him as she cared for him. But mostly, she remembered the intimate kisses they’d shared. Those were hardly proper either.

  Callie’s cheeks heated. She didn’t want to remember the way he’d kissed her. She didn’t want to recall the way those kisses had made her feel. But she couldn’t put them out of her mind. How could she forget what had been the most important moments of her life? How could she attempt to brush aside memories of his kisses when her body told her it would forever yearn for the feelings they’d awakened?

  She felt his loss with more painful intensity than she thought she could bear. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to get over losing him, but she had to try. And she wouldn’t be able to start until every reminder of him was gone. That included Lieutenant Wythers.

  “Help me sit, Mother. Then show Lieutenant Wythers in.”

  Callie’s mother placed several pillows behind Callie’s back, then arranged the counterpane so Callie was properly covered. When she was sure everything was in order, Lady Dunhurst went to the door.

  Callie watched as the lieutenant entered the room. She’d spent enough hours with him as they worked to figure out a way to catch the thief that she automatically associated the lieutenant with the captain she was trying desperately to forget. She looked at Lieutenant Wythers and felt a welling of intense heartache at the vivid reminder.

  “Lady Calinda,” the lieutenant greeted as he entered the room. He offered her a polite bow, then stepped toward the bed. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you improving.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. Please, sit down.” Callie tried to smile. “Sitting will make visiting with you much more comfortable for me.”

  The lieutenant’s mouth widened to a brilliant smile. “My height isn’t always an advantage, I agree.”

  Lieutenant Wythers sat in the chair vacated by Callie’s mother, and Lady Dunhurst sat in a chair near the window.

  “I know why you’ve come, Lieutenant. Or perhaps I should say, I know on whose behalf you’ve come. But there’s nothing you can say to change what’s happened.”

  “He loves you, you know.”

  Callie expected Ford’s friend to state many laudatory facts about Ford, but she hadn’t expected him to be so forward. “I’m . . . that is, I’m sure Captain Remington didn’t send you up to declare such a falsehood, Lieutenant.”

  “Captain Remington didn’t send me up to say anything. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

  The lieutenant’s words surprised her. “Then why have you come?”

  “Because I believe it’s important that you know some facts about Ford that he won’t tell you on his own.”

  Callie was intrigued. She didn’t want to be. She didn’t want to know anything more about Ford than she already knew. But she couldn’t help herself. “Such as?”

  “Such as his motives for what he did.”

  “I believe I already know his motives.” Callie needed to get the upper hand in this conversation, and she didn’t have it. She needed Ford’s friend to realize she knew Ford’s motives, and they were greed and power. He wanted the money he knew he would make with his half ownership in Crown’s and the prestige it would give him among his comrades.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady, but I doubt you do.” The lieutenant paused, then continued. “I’m sure you’re aware that Captain Remington is the second son of the Earl of Edgecomb. And I’m sure you believe his motive for accepting Her Majesty’s offer is greed. The enticement of the wealth that would come from part ownership in the shipping company is formidable. Even to someone as honorable as Ford.”

  Callie’s heart stuttered in her breast. It hurt more than she thought it would to have what she assumed put into words. But there you had it. Ford accepted Her Majesty’s offer for the money.

  “But Ford didn’t want any profits he would receive for himself. He doesn’t need the money. His grandfather left him a trust that provides adequately for his basic needs. And more.”

  “Then why did he agree to take the admiral’s share of the shipping company?”

  “For selfless reasons.” Lieutenant Hugh Wythers rose from his chair and walked around the bed, then stopped on the other side. “Because he saw a way to use the profits from the shipping company to do something he’s been passionate about since he returned untouched from the war when so many other brave soldiers didn’t. He’s been searching for a way to help the men who returned without arms or legs or sight or hearing. To see the men he’d served with, and who’d served beneath him, sit on street corners and beg for enough coin to feed themselves and their families nearly destroye
d him. Her Majesty’s offer provided him a way to help these men.”

  Lieutenant Wythers locked his gaze with hers. “He intended to use the profits from the shipping company to find work for the soldiers who could still work and provide assistance for those who could no longer work to feed themselves and their families. He intended to use whatever money was available to offer a clean and caring place for those whose injuries were so severe that they would never recover. He wanted to make sure they had someplace comfortable. He wanted them to be surrounded by kind and caring people so none of them died afraid and alone.”

  The lieutenant swiped his hand across his face, then lifted his gaze heavenward. His eyes were filled with moisture, but so were hers. Tears streamed down her face, and a heart-wrenching agony tore through her.

  “He loves you, my lady. He has loved you I think from the first time he met you. Now it’s up to you to decide if you are worthy of the love he has for you.”

  The lieutenant turned away from her and made his way to leave. When he reached the opposite side of the room, he reached out his hand and opened the door.

  “Don’t go!” Callie said in a voice choked with emotion. “Where is he? Is he here?”

  Lieutenant Wythers turned. “He’s here. He refused to leave before he knew that you were awake and on the road to recovery.”

  “Take me to him.”

  The lieutenant darted a glance at Lady Dunhurst, and Callie’s mother dabbed at her damp cheeks, then nodded. “Can you carry her?” she asked.

  “I can.”

  “I will accompany you.”

  The lieutenant scooped her into his arms and carried her down the stairs. Callie was desperate for her first sight of Ford. She couldn’t erase all the unkind words she’d spoken to him soon enough. She couldn’t undo all the mistakes she’d made fast enough.

  Love was like that.

  CHAPTER 18

  Ford woke with a start and realized that he was alone in Lord Dunhurst’s study. Hugh was absent, and Ford assumed he’d gone upstairs to ask how Callie was. Ford wouldn’t leave until he knew with certainty that she was all right.

 

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