Lord Sinister (Secrets & Scandals Book 3)

by Tiffany Green

  When the squalling baby had been cleaned and wrapped in a blanket, it quieted. The maid settled the warm bundle carefully in his arms. “Your daughter, my lord.”

  Julian sat still as a statue and regarded the tiny pink face peeking out of the blanket. He could hardly draw in a breath. The baby would forever be a part of him and Amelia. He already loved her.

  Amelia watched Julian with their new daughter and felt close to tears. The tenderness on her husband’s face, the love in his eyes, choked her with emotion.

  “What shall we name her?” he asked, glancing over at her with the same tender expression.

  She couldn’t speak for several seconds. “I chose the first time. It’s your turn.”

  He glanced back down, a small smile forming on his lips. “Phoebe.” He lifted his head. “Phoebe Nicole.”

  Amelia swallowed thickly. “Phoebe is my middle name.”

  “Yes, that’s why I chose it.” He grew serious. “Amelia, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time.”

  Her heart pounded faster. “What’s that?”

  “I love you.”

  She closed her eyes, soaking up those words like a flower does the sun’s rays. “Oh, Julian, I love you too.” She was filled with such happiness, she thought she would burst. Tiredness overwhelmed her suddenly, making her frown. She heard Dr. Benson barking orders to someone, then Julian’s voice raised. The baby began to cry.

  Amelia had no strength to tell Julian to give Phoebe to her, that the baby probably needed to be fed. She grew terribly cold. And the world went black.

  ****

  Alexander’s eyes continued to wander toward the doorway. He couldn’t keep his mind on the drawing. The piece of charcoal hung suspended in mid-air, his mind on how his mama fared. He couldn’t stop thinking that something was wrong. With a sigh, he lowered his arm. “Lord Fielding,” he rose and dusted the black smears from his fingers, “I need to see how my mother is doing.”

  The marquess inclined his head. “Yes, let us both go.”

  Midway up the stairs, he heard the faint sound of a baby’s cry. He quickened his pace until, breathless, he raced into the room where his family waited. His grandmother held the wailing baby, trying to sooth it. Megan was in Nicholas’s arms. And his grandfather spoke softly to Sir Mortimer. They all turned to him at once.

  The back of Alex’s neck prickled. Something was wrong.

  No one moved or said anything for several seconds. He could feel the tension in the room. “What?” he asked in a choked voice. “What has happened?”

  His grandfather came to him. The sadness in his eyes twisted Alex’s insides. “Your mother had problems with the birth.”

  Alex staggered back a step. “Is she…?” He couldn’t say it.

  “No.” Grandfather placed a hand on his shoulder. “She is still with us.”

  “I want to see her.”

  “The doctor is working to save her, Alex. Give him a little time.”

  Alex slid his gaze to the closed door. Where his mother lay at death’s door. “How is Father?”

  “Julian is much better. In fact, he has been in there with your mother for a while.”

  He simply nodded. The sounds coming from the baby caught his attention.

  “It’s a girl.” Pride rang in his grandfather’s tone. “Phoebe Nicole.”

  Without meaning to, Alex found himself drawn to the fussy infant. His grandmother smiled at him. “Would you like to hold her?”

  Alex meant to shake his head no. “Yes,” he said instead.

  “You are the exact age Julian was when I had Megan,” she said as she placed the light little body in his arms.

  Phoebe’s wails calmed. Alex could only gape as his tiny little sister as she quieted and opened her eyes. He had no idea how to hold a baby, so he stood very still, hardly drawing in a breath.

  “Oh, Alex, she loves you already. See how she’s looking at you?”

  He nodded. His heart melted, and he loved her too.

  The door opened. Alex watched the doctor move tiredly into the room. No one moved, no one breathed. Everyone waited for the man to say something.

  “The bleeding has stopped.” He mopped his face with a handkerchief. “It’s in God’s hands now.”

  ****

  Amelia drifted out of a dream, though she could not recall what it had been about. She could hear Julian speaking softly, and she struggled to turn her head. Weakness like she had never known made her limbs incredibly heavy. She focused on him sitting in the chair a foot away, talking to something in his arms. Their baby daughter.

  “…And see, Phoebe. Your mother will make it through this. She has to.” His voice turned gruff. “Because I love her so much, and I’ll not let her leave me.”

  Amelia swallowed. The words she had waited so long to hear had finally been spoken. Julian loved her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Julian snapped his head up. “Amelia.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Phoebe, because I love your father too much to leave him.” Though she spoke to her daughter, she kept her eyes on her husband. “Always.”

  Julian smiled. He leaned over and grazed his lips against hers. “And forever.”

  EPILOGUE

  Three months later…

  Amelia shook from head to toe. Julian placed a hand over hers, his warmth seeping beyond the satiny glove to her fingers. It gave her strength.

  “It will be all right, my love,” he whispered as they moved closer to where the under-butler stood waiting for them to approach.

  “What if this is a complete failure?”

  Julian halted. His eyes roved her face and she felt a flush creep up her cheeks at the sultry fire that sprang into his eyes. “This is the first time that I can remember Jeremy ever hosting a party. And it’s in your honor, Pixie.” He gave her a too short kiss. “You will be accepted. I promise.”

  Her nerves calmed a bit.

  Julian took a step, then halted, his eyes turning worried. “Are you still upset about your father? We could always…”

  Amelia shook her head. “It’s been three months since I learned Father died. I am all right.” She smiled up to her husband. “I know I am not waiting the proper length of time to mourn, but Jeremy has gone through a lot of trouble arranging this.” She linked her arm in his. “With you beside me, Julian, I will be fine.”

  “Are you certain about your inheritance?”

  Amelia had been stunned to learn Father had left her the majority of his fortune. In some way, she knew he was making up for his actions all those years ago. She nodded. “Yes. I wish to start a hospital for children and to donate to Megan’s orphanage fund. Together, we can make a real difference.”

  Leaning forward, Julian grazed his lips against hers. “You are a generous lady. I love you, Pixie.” Then he led her to where the servant stood.

  “Marquess and Marchioness of Amersleigh.”

  Amelia had no idea how she managed to move alongside Julian without falling, but somehow she did. The number of people there could not be counted. More than she realized would attend. And they were all looking…no gaping, at her.

  Jeremy gave a deep and respectful bow. “Welcome, Lord and Lady Amersleigh. I am honored you are here.” His words rang out in the silence.

  Whispers broke out. Amelia chose to ignore them and performed a curtsey.

  “The honor is ours, Lord Fielding,” Julian said, bowing in return.

  The whispers turned to chatter. In five short seconds, the room buzzed with conversation. Amelia was uneasy, knowing everyone discussed her. She spotted Megan heading in her direction and smiled.

  “Amelia.” They embraced.

  “And what about me, Moppet?”

  Megan turned. “Oh, Jules,” she laughed and hugged her brother too.

  “Amelia, I would like to introduce you to two of my very good friends, the Duchess of Huntington, Silver Claiborne, and Lady Victoria Claiborne.”

  Ano
ther flawless curtsey. “It is a pleasure to meet you both.” When she straightened, she saw a handsome dark-haired man saunter up beside the Duchess of Huntington. Megan introduced her to His Grace, the Duke of Huntington.

  “Cousin!”

  Amelia stiffened, recognizing that voice, and turned slowly. Her cousin, Diana, Viscountess Skeffington, rushed in her direction.

  “Oh, Amelia, it is so good to see you again!”

  Before she could respond, Jeremy walked to her side. “Lady Skeffington, I invited you here for one reason. One reason only.”

  Diana paused, the smile melting from her face at the disdain Julian, Jeremy, and Nicholas glowered on her. “What reason is that?”

  Jeremy crossed his arms. “I have been dying to do this for years, but because your husband was a friend, I didn’t. However, since he is no longer with us, I can finally say you are despicable.” He leaned forward to speak softly, but Amelia could still hear his words. “Especially after the lie you told Julian about Amelia eleven years ago.” He straightened.

  Diana’s eyes widened. Her hands shook. “What are you going to do, Lord Fielding?”

  “Simply say you are no longer welcome in my presence. You are dead to me.” Without giving her the opportunity to respond, he turned his back on her.

  Stunned, Amelia watched everyone in the room turn their backs on her cousin.

  Diana looked wildly around the room. “Please, don’t do this!” She shook her head. “Don’t!”

  Seeing Amelia and Julian, the only ones still facing her, Diana rushed toward them. “You can’t do this to me.”

  Amelia watched her husband. He looked ready to throttle the woman. “You lied to me. You brought my wife such misery. I will never forgive you for that.” He spun around, giving her his back.

  Diana turned a pleading gaze onto Amelia. She clasped her hands together as if in prayer. “Cousin.” Her painted lips parted in a desperate smile. “Dearest cousin. What happened was a mistake, a misunderstanding. Surely, you understand?”

  Amelia recalled every horrid thing her cousin did to her. “No, Diana. You wanted to ruin my life. Even enjoyed doing it.” She paused to take a deep breath. “You are dead to me.” She turned slowly. Julian’s hand reached out and took hers. She squeezed, unable to believe how strong she had become.

  After Diana stormed from the mansion, the music began. Jeremy came forward and insisted on the first dance. A waltz. He said something about it being tradition, sliding his gaze to the Duchess of Huntington.

  “There bloody well better be more than one waltz, Jeremy,” Julian said as she was led away.

  “Are you all right, pet?”

  Amelia leaned back and smiled. “Yes.” She glanced around the decorated room, from the four enormous chandlers dripping with sparkling crystals to the white columns at the sides of the room. “Such a lovely house. I don’t understand why you aren’t giving parties more often.”

  He made a face. “Playing host doesn’t leave me much time to choose which lady’s bed I’d like to occupy.”

  She laughed. “You are incorrigible, Jeremy.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  When the song ended, Jeremy, being the cad he was, danced with Amelia again before bringing her back to her husband. Julian, however, did not look pleased.

  The people, the loftiest of the ton, showed Amelia great deference after that. She breathed a sigh of relief. Bringing so much as an ounce of shame upon her new family would have been unbearable.

  Julian danced three in a row with her after that. Said he couldn’t be outdone by Jeremy. Amelia loved her husband beyond measure.

  While taking a break from the dance, the men began discussing a horrid pugilism contest and the Duchess of Huntington conversed with Lady Victoria. Amelia turned to Megan. “I have something to ask.”

  Lowering her champagne, Megan eyed her suspiciously. “What?”

  Amelia spoke in hushed tones so the men wouldn’t hear. “Julian won’t tell me anything about the investigation other than it has been taken care of.”

  “And you wish to know what has happened.”

  Amelia nodded.

  Megan gave her brother’s back a frown. “He should have told you.”

  “Told me what?” That worried Amelia. Had Julian lied to her just to set her at ease? She would much rather know the truth.

  “Oh, the investigation is closed.” Megan squeezed her hand to appease her worry. “Inspector Hastings has been relieved of his job. He’ll not bother you anymore.”

  A flicker of sadness welled up within Amelia. “I didn’t mean for him to lose his job.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for that man, Amelia.”

  “Why not?”

  Megan pressed her lips into a thin line. “Mr. Porter learned Hastings had an affair with a viscountess a few years ago. She broke it off and ever since, Hastings has been, shall we say, very harsh on the few ladies he has investigated.”

  “I see.” Amelia sighed, wishing to direct her thoughts elsewhere. “Have you heard from Sir Mortimer?”

  Megan grinned. “Got a note from him just after he took Hilda back to her cottage.”

  Amelia’s spirits drooped. “I never got to thank her for all she did.”

  “She knows.”

  “How?”

  “Said she dreamed it.”

  Amelia knew Julian stood behind her, even before he wrapped his arms around her waist. “What are you two whispering about over here?”

  “Just how wonderful you are, Julian,” Megan said before giving Amelia the chance to speak.

  Julian pressed a kiss to Amelia’s temple. “Somehow I get the feeling it was something else.” But he let it drop and turned her around. “How are you feeling, Pixie?”

  “Exceptional. Especially having you this close.”

  A fire sprang to Julian’s eyes. Amelia knew that look. And before she could think what he would do next, he pulled her close and settled his lips down over hers. Right there in the center of Lord Fielding’s ball.

  To hell with those who didn’t like it, she decided, and kissed him back.

  The Secrets & Scandals series continues with Book 4, Lord Black Heart…

  Torie sat under a tree, listening to Ian prattle on about the new kittens in the stable. Her mind not at all on the boy’s words. No, her mind remained focused on a certain pirate and the two most wonderful weeks in her whole life. She smiled and a perfect red rose appeared under her nose. Her smile widened and she glanced up, shading her eyes from the sun.

  “A present for you.”

  “Why, thank you kind sir.” She took the rose and inhaled. It had to be the sweetest flower in the entire world.

  “May I join you?”

  “Please.” She moved over to make room for Jack on the blanket.

  “I’m goin’ tae see aboot the wee kittens,” Ian said and loped off toward the stables.

  Torie grinned after him, then turned back to Jack. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. Hungrily. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back. They never spoke of her going home and she never brought up the subject. She couldn’t face that yet. Her arms tightened around him. She didn’t know if she could ever face that. She wanted to be with Jack. Now and always.

  The sound of someone clearing his throat penetrated. Jack pulled away from her and she blinked several times to get her mind working once again. Goodness, the man could kiss. Jack came to his feet and helped her up. She turned and gasped at the sight of the familiar face. The familiar scowling face. “Connor?”

  Jack glanced swiftly at her, his eyes wide and filled with disbelief. “You know Connor?” He shook his head. “How?”

  Conner stepped forward before she could answer. “Ye’ve been hard tae find, lass. Silver’s been worried sick aboot ye.”

  “Your sister, Silver?” Jack asked Connor.

  Torie twisted the poor rose in her hand, her mouth dry. She absently took note of the fact Jack had removed all th
e thorns. She looked down at her borrowed dress and remained silent. Nothing good would come out of this conversation. Connor would take her back and she would never see Jack again. Tears sprang to her eyes. A lump rose to her throat, threatening to choke her. How could she stand to leave him?

  Torie heard Jack’s sigh. “Will someone please tell me what is going on? Connor, how on earth do you know Torie?”

  “We’re sorta related.”

  “What? Related? How exactly are you related?”

  Torie closed her eyes, tears sliding unchecked down her cheeks. She would be taken from Jack forever. Oh, the pain of it pierced her heart and made her slightly sick to her stomach. She pressed a hand to her mouth, inhaling the heady rose scent on her fingers, and sucked down a sob.

  “My sister is married to her brother.”

  “But your sister is married to—” A quick intake of breath cut off Jack’s words. Torie opened her tear drenched eyes. Jack stepped before her. She saw he wore his shiny boots, the ones that pinched like hell. She tried to smile, but it wouldn’t stick. He probably wanted to look nice for her. Oh, God, please. She didn’t want to leave him.

  Jack reached out and lifted her chin. The warm contact sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes connected with hers, glistening like black diamonds in the sunshine. Torie prayed her legs would continue to support her as his eyes roved her face several times. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away her tears. She would not be able to stand much more. “Tell me your brother isn’t the Duke of Huntington.” His words were fierce, a direct contrast to how tenderly he moved the scrap of cloth over her cheeks.

  Torie knew her happiness was going to evaporate at any second. Her heart squeezed to the point of pain; she was a fraction of a second from losing Jack. The affirmation he sought stuck in her throat. She couldn’t say it.

  “Tell me,” he whispered, his eyes pleading she deny it.

  “Jack, please…” More tears coursed down her cheeks. She swiped at them impatiently and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He swore and turned away, glancing out to the unending stretch of sea in the distance. Her chin wobbled, and she bit her lip to try and stem further tears. It didn’t work. “Jack,” she whispered, her throat raw with keeping her grief at bay.