Regarding the Duke

by Grace Callaway

  “We’re almost at the foundry.” Too on edge to sit, Adam remained standing. “The good news is that we’ll have surprise on our side. De Villier has no idea that I have a man on the inside who tipped me off to this location. The bastard thinks he has hours to prepare for our meeting. When we attack, he won’t be expecting it.”

  “How many men does De Villier have?” Strathaven asked.

  “Close to a hundred, according to my man. De Villier apparently hired some additional cutthroats for the occasion,” Adam said grimly. “Given that we didn’t have time to do the same, we will be outnumbered.”

  “My devices will make up for any disadvantage.” Kent’s spectacles glinted.

  The other had brought along an arsenal of smoke-emitting canisters and explosive devices. When Adam’s brows had lifted at the stockpile Kent’s men loaded onto the ship, Tessa Kent, who’d come to see them off, had given her husband a fond smile.

  “Harry likes to be prepared,” she’d said impishly.

  Adam had to admit that it was damned useful to have a scientist on his side.

  “Before you start tossing detonating devices pell-mell,” Strathaven said wryly to his brother-in-law, “we’ll have to ensure Mrs. Garrity’s safety first. Garrity, did your man mention where De Villier is keeping her?”

  Adam gripped the table’s edge. “He didn’t know at the time when he sent the message. He was with De Villier when their guards arrived with Gabriella. He barely had time to get a note off to me before De Villier ordered them all to the foundry.”

  “One of my colleagues in the Royal Society toured the foundry and was able to give a rough idea of its layout. I made a sketch.” Kent unrolled a drawing on the table. “There are four main buildings, one facing each direction. Each building is accessible with a door to the outside—a precaution should there be a fire or any other need for escape. The doors will likely be bolted, but one of my milder explosives ought to do the trick.”

  “Who needs a key when one has explosives?” Ransom drawled.

  “We can each lead a team to search a building,” Murray put in.

  “We need a signal,” Adam said. “To let the others know when Gabriella is found.”

  “I brought fireworks,” Kent said. “The blue sparks will be visible even with the fog, and the devices make a sound like a thunderclap that can’t be mistaken.”

  Despite his grim mood, Adam felt a prick of humor. “Anything else in your pocket, Kent?”

  Kent lifted his brows. “What do you need?”

  “I’ll take the northern building,” Murray said.

  “East,” Ransom said.

  “South,” Strathaven said.

  “West.” Kent looked at Adam. “Unless you want it?”

  “Gentlemen, I will entrust you to find Gabriella and bring her to safety.” Inhaling, Adam looked into the faces of his allies and prayed he was doing the right thing. “She is everything to me, and I need to know that she is in good hands…no matter what happens.”

  “We’ll look after Mrs. Garrity.” Ransom’s promise was delivered with a wry smile. “Or our own ladies will have our heads.”

  As the others nodded in agreement, Murray asked, “What will you be doing?”

  “There is only one surefire way to protect Gabriella and my family. I have to eradicate the root of the problem.” Cold rage flowed through Adam. “I’m going after De Villier.”

  Gabby started at the loud boom that shook the walls.

  Was that an explosion? Her ears pricked. She thought she heard men shouting…what were they saying? Their voices neared, becoming more distinct…

  “Mrs. Garrity, where are you?”

  “I’m in here!” She stumbled to the door, pounding on it with both fists. “It’s me, I’m here!”

  More booming, more shouting, the fracas so loud that she became panicked that her rescuers couldn’t hear her. She continued yelling, her lungs straining, her fists beating a desperate drumbeat against wood.

  “I’m here, Mrs. Garrity, I’ve got you.”

  Relief filled her as she recognized the voice filtering through the thick barrier. “Oh, Mr. Murray, thank goodness—"

  She heard the key turn in the lock. Her eyes adjusting to the sudden flood of light, she saw…the scarred face. De Villier’s guard had returned.

  She backed away. “Get away from me—”

  “Not to worry, Mrs. Garrity.” Mr. Murray appeared behind the villain. “Livingston here works for your husband. He’s been spying on the enemy for us; he sent us word so we were able to spring a surprise attack on De Villier. He led me to you.”

  She looked at Livingston, whose brutish face was transformed by a toothy grin.

  “Beg your pardon, ma’am, for pushing you earlier,” he said solicitously. “I had to make it look real so as not to rouse De Villier’s suspicion.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said gratefully. “Where is my husband?”

  “He’s going after De Villier.” Mr. Murray took her arm. “Come, we have to get you to the boat—”

  “I’m not leaving without Adam.” Fear for her beloved made Gabby dig in her heels. “You don’t know De Villier, he’s capable of anything—”

  “Believe me, so is your husband when your well-being is at stake. The sooner I get you to safety, the sooner he can focus all his energies on vanquishing his enemy.”

  Although she understood the logic, she couldn’t bring herself to leave Adam. Not when he’d been left to survive on his own so many times. “The three of us can find him together—”

  “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Mr. Murray muttered.

  “Come to what?”

  “Your husband anticipated that you might be reluctant to leave without him. If that were to happen, he gave us a message to convey to you.”

  Seeing the ruddy color on the other’s face, she asked curiously, “What message?”

  “Go to the ship, Gabriella.” Murray cleared his throat. “Your sultan commands it.”

  38

  Seeing the blue sparkles shower the courtyard, Adam felt the knot in his gut ease.

  Gabby is safe. Thank God, my beloved is safe.

  He let himself enjoy that blissful instant of relief…before picking up the scent again. Knowing that Gabby was out of harm’s way, he gave the hunt for De Villier his full attention. As he stalked through the courtyard scattered with wooden crates, tools, and assorted machinery, De Villier’s men were stumbling from the adjacent buildings, smoked out by Kent’s devices. The choking, gasping men were easily subdued by Adam’s allies.

  Others of De Villier’s army were still battling fiercely. Aiming his pistol, Adam took down one who was grappling with Ransom by a pallet of metal rails. From the other side, a brute came charging at Adam, and he pulled out another pistol, ending the attack with a bullet. He strode on, scanning the brawling throng for De Villier.

  Having searched the other buildings, he was about to enter the western building to continue his search when Kent came running out of its doorway, a handkerchief tied over his mouth, his arms gesturing wildly.

  “Run.”

  Adam turned and sprinted, Kent at his heels. They managed to find shelter behind a stack of crates just as a deafening blast tore through the air, the ground shaking. When the debris stopped raining, Adam looked around the edge of the makeshift shield, his eyes widening at the demolished building and rising blaze.

  He gave Kent an incredulous look. “What the bloody hell happened?”

  “I may have, er, accidentally tossed one of my devices into a cupboard full of fog signals.” At Adam’s blank look, Kent said abashedly, “Fog signals contain gunpowder.”

  Christ. Adam was shaking his head…when he saw his quarry.

  “De Villier.” He was on his feet, on the trail. “He just ran into the eastern building.”

  Kent followed him into the long, cavernous space. The flickering glow of lamps revealed that this was the workshop where the locomotives were assem
bled. A metal behemoth sat unfinished, its iron skin gleaming. At the opposite end of the building, Adam saw the flash of De Villier’s pale hair…disappearing into the ground?

  “Trapdoor,” he and Kent said at once.

  They raced over as the trapdoor slammed into place. Adam reached it first, pulling at the metal ring. The door didn’t budge.

  “It’s locked from the other side.” Giving Kent a glance, he took a step back. Then a few more steps, just to be safe. “Try not to blow us up.”

  With a rather maniacal grin, Kent set to work. In a matter of minutes, they climbed through the jagged hole where the door had once been and found themselves on an underwater dock. Adam spotted De Villier: the blackguard was in a boat being rowed by one of his brutes, and they were nearly out of the underground passage. If he reached the Thames, the fog would give him cover, and he might easily escape.

  There was only one boat left tethered to the dock: a small rowboat with a single oar.

  Adam ran over and jumped in. “I’ll be faster alone.”

  “Good luck, Garrity.” Kent helped him untie the rope. “See you back at the ship.”

  Adam plowed his oar through the water, his transport gaining speed. De Villier had reached the river, but Adam wasn’t far behind.

  “Row faster, you imbecile!” De Villier’s roar sounded close.

  Adam squinted, trying to see the other’s boat lamp in the fog. A glimmer just a few lengths ahead, a movement…

  He threw himself down on the bottom of the boat just as a bullet whizzed by, puncturing the starboard side. Christ. Water began pouring in. Muscles bunching, sweat pouring down his brow, he rowed toward his target. Water swirled around his calves. He closed in just as De Villier was reloading his pistol.

  In a single motion, Adam rose and sprang onto the other boat.

  He tackled both men as he landed, hearing their surprised grunts, the sound of De Villier’s weapon splashing into the river. He was already reaching for his boot when De Villier’s brute rolled him over. The man’s beefy hands circled Adam’s throat at the same time that Adam’s blade struck home. Adam withdrew the knife and kicked his foe over the side.

  Crouching, dripping blade in hand, Adam faced De Villier.

  Weaponless, the other scrambled back against the opposite end of the boat.

  “Don’t do anything rash.” De Villier’s chest heaved. “I can give you anything you want. Wealth beyond your wildest dreams—”

  “I don’t want your money.” Adam advanced, keeping his balance as the boat swayed.

  “My name then. You want that, don’t you?” De Villier held out his hands, a placating gesture. “It’s what you always wanted, and I’ll give it to you. You were conceived before the marriage was annulled…I will attest to that, make you my heir. Here, take this.” He tugged on his finger, removing the bloodstone signet, holding it out like an offering in his palm. “It belongs to you. Along with all the De Villier holdings, including Grand London Northern—”

  “I want nothing from you,” Adam said in disgust. “If I could, I would erase your blood from my veins.”

  “But you can’t. Because you’re like me.” De Villier’s eyes darted side to side. “Deep down, you understand why I did what I did. A powerful man can’t let sentiment get in the way. True power is within your grasp now, Son, don’t do anything foolish…”

  The bastard hurled the signet at Adam. On instinct, Adam dodged the projectile, and the other used that moment of distraction to lunge. A lifetime’s training made Adam twist, evading the attack, kicking out. His boot connected with De Villier’s chest, sending the other over the edge with a splash.

  De Villier thrashed in the water, his eyes bulging with panic. “Help me! I can’t swim!”

  “That’s one of the many differences between you and me.” Adam regarded the other coolly. “I learned to swim at an early age.”

  “I won’t die this way,” De Villier gasped. “I’ll give you anything…money, power…”

  Adam watched the dark waters close over his past. When the last surfacing bubbles were swept away by the waves, he returned his gaze to the boat…and saw the glint of the signet ring. He scooped it up and contemplated it for long moments, running his thumb over the Latin inscription, feeling the weight of what he held.

  Then he threw the ring over the edge.

  Picking up the oar, he headed to shore.

  39

  The lighters brought everyone back to the dock where their carriages were waiting. Safe in the circle of Adam’s arms, Gabby bid farewell to their assembled friends.

  “Thank you all ever so much,” she said, emotion clogging her throat. “I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you—”

  “Just put in a good word with our ladies.” Strathaven bowed over her hand, his eyes warm. “I’m certain Emma will be paying you a visit on the morrow. It’s a miracle I was able to convince her to stay home tonight.”

  “Tell me about it,” Mr. Kent said with feeling. “Tessa will insist upon a full accounting the minute I get home.”

  “Gentlemen, I am in your debt.” Adam spoke, his words gruff with sincerity. “If I can ever be of assistance, I am at your service.”

  “We’ll call it even, shall we?” Ransom’s lips curved below his dashing mustache. “No debts between us. Just friendship.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Mr. Murray said. “Garrity owes me a raise.”

  Enjoying the blessed normality of the male banter, Gabby smiled…but it turned into a yawn.

  Adam’s arm tightened around her waist. “I’d best be getting my wife home.”

  The men departed, and Adam swept her up in his arms.

  “You don’t have to carry me,” she protested. “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

  “If you think I’m ever letting you go, you can think again,” came her husband’s reply.

  Since she felt the same way, she looped her arms around his neck, snuggling closer, letting his familiar scent and warmth soothe away the terrors of the night. Once in the carriage, he settled her on his lap. She would have been content to remain there forever, tucked up against him, feeling the steady thump of his heart.

  “Can you forgive me, Gabby, for the way I’ve treated you?”

  At his guttural words, she jerked her head up, nearly hitting him on the chin.

  “Adam, there’s naught to forgive.” Her gaze found his; in the dimness of the carriage, his eyes were as dark and fathomless as the river they’d just crossed. “De Villier told me everything. About your history, what he’d done to you…that he was your father. I understand why you wanted to destroy his company. An eye for an eye: the villain deserved to be punished for his evil acts.”

  He cupped her cheek, his eyes no longer unreadable but burning with emotion. “I should have told you the truth from the start. About De Villier and my past. I should not have kept secrets—any secrets—from you.”

  “Last night, when we…fought,” she said hesitantly, “I was angry at you.”

  “I deserved your anger. Christ, if I could take back what I’ve done—”

  “Let me finish,” she said.

  He nodded, his jaw taut.

  “I was angry because when my father told me that you had Mr. Isnard in your pocket, I thought you’d married me only to get your hands on Billings Bank. That money and power were what you’d been after all this time, that you’d never really wanted me.”

  “That’s not true,” he said vehemently. “Gabriella, I—”

  “When I confronted you, I was so angry and hurt that I didn’t bother to ask why you wanted my father’s bank; I simply assumed the worst. I attacked you, and that wasn’t fair of me. In retrospect, my reaction wasn’t only about discovering what I felt was a betrayal: it was about my own fear that I wasn’t worthy, that I’d fooled myself into believing that you could be in love with me.”

  “I am in love with you.” Adam’s tone was fierce, unyielding. “That night we fought, I acted like a right ba
stard. It’s no excuse, but I think I was still reeling from the sudden recovery of my memories…the confusion I felt over who I’d become. I lashed out at your ‘betrayal,’ which is rich when I deceived you first with my underhanded actions. My reaction stems from my own past, my fear of once again being duped by sentiment, the way I’d been fooled by De Villier, Jessabelle, and others.”

  “I understand,” she said gently. “Anyone who’d gone through your harrowing journey and survived would feel the same way.”

  “By morning, I already realized what a complete arse I’d been. I was on my way to apologize to you. To tell you that I didn’t give a damn about your trust or revenge: if I lost you, then I had nothing. Then the news came that you’d been taken.” He let out a ragged breath. “That was the worst moment of my life, Gabriella. Bar none. Worse than finding Jessabelle dead, worse than everything De Villier has done to me. In those other instances, I could go on, but Gabby…I couldn’t survive without you.”

  At her husband’s stark declaration, heat surged behind her eyes. To hear this strong, fearless man say that he couldn’t live without her shook her very foundations, breaking down the remnants of those old, imprisoning walls. Seeing herself reflected in his darkly adoring sultan’s eyes, she knew she was worthy and beautiful. Loved.

  “I love you,” she said tremulously.

  “Thank Christ,” he said with a hoarse reverence that curled her toes. “You say my journey has been harrowing, but I regret none of it since it brought me to you. You are my reward, and loving you is my true purpose, what gives my life meaning. My heart is yours until it stops beating and beyond.”

  Even as she absorbed his words, letting their beauty sink into her marrow, she felt a shiver.

  “Don’t even talk about your heart not beating,” she whispered. “When I think about how close I’ve come to losing you…oh, heavens, I almost forgot. De Villier, that bastard, told me that he hired an assassin to shoot you during the battle with Sweeney. He caused your wound, your amnesia.”

  “I know. Livingston told me during the boat ride back. He apologized for not discovering that plot and the one to kidnap you before they happened.”