Seven Lovely Sins (The Northumberland Nine Book 7)

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Seven Lovely Sins (The Northumberland Nine Book 7) Page 1

by Dayna Quince




  Seven Lovely Sins

  Dayna Quince

  Copyright © 2019 by Dayna Quince

  All rights reserved.

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  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Thank You

  Newsletter sign up

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Dayna Quince

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Selbourne Castle, June 20, 1825

  Weirick, Violet, and Roderick sat in a circle around a fresh pot of tea as rain pelted the high windows of the Queen’s drawing room of Selbourne Castle. All the candles were snuffed, oil lamps turned down except for the one nearest them. The glow of the fire provided all other light, which was not insubstantial. Weirick could stand inside the hearth with his arms spread and still not touch walls.

  On this stormy summer night, papers scattered the table before them, and they huddled together to make choices far more serious than Weirick originally thought. But as he looked down on a list of names, his stomach tightened with worry. He glanced to his new wife, and he wondered what it was like to give away a daughter to another man. Her father had died some years ago, and in turn, it had been her brother-in-law to give her hand away. But one day they would have their own daughters. Weirick couldn’t be sure any man would prove worthy enough of their hands.

  “Lord Densmore is an obvious choice,” said Roderick, Weirick’s younger brother and newly reformed rake and alcoholic. “But his brother, Denham, I’m not sure. He’s as bad as I was on my best nights.”

  “There is also that trouble with Judge Blackwood,” Weirick said. “Denham is a hothead, and he likes to let his mouth make decisions before his brain.”

  “Then why invite him?” Violet asked. “We want men suitable for the sisters. We can’t let them marry just anyone.”

  “He’s a second son,” Roderick answered. “He’s reckless, but I know he does have some of his own financial holdings. He is smart. And to be honest, it is far more likely that one of the Marsdens marry a second son. But remember, nothing is certain. It’s important that we focus on my courtship of Anne.”

  “But if more than one of them marries, it’s even better. Will he make a good husband?”

  “I’ll make sure he does,” Weirick said. And neither Violet nor Roderick questioned that Weirick could scare any man into improved behavior.

  “Denham has reached his breaking point. I can take care of Judge Blackwood. But it’s up to Denham to choose between life and death. This party might be the catalyst he needs. If he should choose to fall in love with a Marsden, I think he’ll change his ways. They seem to have a way of drawing out the finer qualities in a man, don’t you think Roderick?” Weirick focused on his brother. He looked better than he’d ever seen him after weeks of being ill, purging the liquor from his system, and fighting for his own life. All because of his love for Anne. A love that was not yet returned, and neither of them could be certain that it would be. But for his brother’s life, Weirick was willing to try.

  “So, we invite him?” Violet asked, her gaze flicking between Weirick and Roderick.

  “I say yay,” Roderick said.

  “I say yay,” Weirick said. “Every man should get a chance to change.”

  Chapter 1

  August 10, 1825 Selbourne Castle

  The damp sea air permeated his neck cloth and sent a chill down his spine. The moon shined brightly, illuminating the hills and valleys of the sand. Theo stood next to his brother, watching the rowboat come in, his gut tightening the closer the boat came.

  The shadow of a man cranked oars efficiently as the small boat rose up and down with the swells of the ocean.

  Callen remained silent, an air of stern judgment around him, as usual. Even during clandestine meetings, he looked every inch the Earl of Densmore. Theo wished he would say something to cut the tension. His own voice felt like a foreign object in his throat. But Callen never spoke unless he was imparting some lecture. Theo preferred lectures to this strange silence, though he’d never tell his brother that. He certainly didn’t want more lectures, but he hated to feel like his presence was something to be ignored, and yet he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say to his brother right now.

  His pride choked him.

  The pressure in his chest made him feel as if he couldn’t draw a full breath. He stared out at the boat edging closer and closer, the future as it were, the future he didn’t want but he had no control of. It was his own damn fault that he was here pretending to attend a house party and court nine lovely and dreadfully poor sisters when his true purpose was escaping England and the hangman.

  And though he was certain his brother loathed him, there Callen stood, ever the protector, the dutiful brother, guarding Theo’s back as he’d promised their parents on their deathbed and ensuring he never saw the noose.

  Even if Theo deserved it.

  What was family worth if not for this moment?

  Am I a criminal? Do I deserve to die?

  No, he wanted to shout.

  His brother finally broke the silence. “Captain Marlowe is taking a great risk by meeting us like this.”

  “I know,” Theo said. “He wouldn’t do it if he wasn’t fully aware. Maybe he does things like this all the time.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw his brother glare at him.

  “Not everyone has a moral compass as skewed as yours.”

  “Perhaps not everyone, but certainly quite a few.”

  “This is no joke,” his brother said, his voice edged with scorn.

  “Who is joking?” Theo returned. “Leaving England, you think I take that lightly? I don’t want to do this.”

  “I don’t want to do this, either. I have to because of you.”

  Theo ground his teeth, his jaw aching. Bloody hell, did every conversation have to result in an argument? He exhaled loudly.

  “Petulant whelp,” his bro
ther muttered.

  The rowboat glided onto the sand, and Captain Marlowe, a swarthy fellow of ambiguous origins—perhaps Spanish or maybe Mediterranean, Theo thought—leapt from the small dinghy. He approached them with a swagger only seen in seamen. They always walk as if the ship rolled under their feet. Would Theo carry the same gait just from crossing the sea? Probably not, the journey would not be long enough.

  Only hours, maybe a day at most.

  He’d have to spend months at sea before he achieved that kind of swaggering stride. Perhaps he ought not to make land anywhere and become a deck hand for Capt. Marlowe. The idea was appealing.

  His mind filled with daring images of a piratical life, wanton women, swords clashing, but the fantasy quickly unraveled. Nothing more than a brief dream as the truth smothered his fanciful imagination.

  “Good evening, Lord Densmore, Mr. Denham,” Captain Marlowe said. “I’m delighted to be doing business with you. How can I be of service?”

  “Good evening, Captain. We need to leave England, preferably without being on any ship’s registry as passengers,” Callen replied. “Is that possible?”

  “Anything’s possible,” Captain Marlowe answered with a confident cock to his head. “When one commands the sea, one commands their own fate.” He raised a brow and half smiled. “But if it’s a matter of treason, there is extra risk and that means extra cost.”

  His brother stiffened.

  Theo only grinned, seeing something of himself in Captain Marlowe. No doubt it was familiar wickedness and a sense of humor staring back at him.

  “Nothing so damning as treason,” Theo said. “We are good Englishmen through and through, but I managed to shoot a relative of a judge, and if he dies, then so shall I.”

  “Ah, avoiding prosecution,” the captain nodded in understanding. “You will be in good company abroad, and I think you’ll find that a man can make his home anywhere, even a noble son. Once you cut ties with your home country, the world becomes a lot bigger and far more interesting.”

  It was tempting to believe him. The idea that there was an adventure to find seemed tantalizing. Less judgment, perhaps a bit of happiness for himself, or at least contentment. But the idea of leaving his home country, everything he knew, didn’t sit right in his gut. He already missed the familiar cooking of their London chef. What would he do abroad when he didn’t know the language being spoken around him?

  “Where are we going?” he asked abruptly.

  “Wherever you’d like,” Captain Marlowe answered. “There’s the usual places, France, Belgium, but if it’s anonymity you want, something more exotic is recommended. Morocco, perhaps India, Egypt. Even those places still have a very large English presence. Your king certainly likes to put his hand in every cookie jar. If you truly want to get away from the law, you have to go to lawless lands where there is enough sun, sea, booze, and women to make you forget who you were before.”

  Theo’s stomach knotted. If he were drunk, that might sound tempting. If he were sitting at a card table deep in his cups, a dancer of the Fairy Circle lounged on his lap, that might sound like the answer to his prayers, but so much had happened since then. He’d shot a man. His brother had been shot. And it seemed as though his luck had run out.

  “Why don’t we start with Europe,” Callen said, and Theo now understood why he wanted his brother to go with him. A brother that could barely stand the sight of him. Callen had the even keel logic that Theo lacked.

  He couldn’t believe that Callen was part of this plan. It was Callen who orchestrated all of this, even with the wound in his side.

  Theo had planned to shoot over Kirby’s head, as a gentleman ought to do, but what if Kirby hadn’t intended to do the same? If Callen had not stepped in between them, it might be Theo with a bullet hole in his side or maybe even dead.

  “When do you wish to leave?” the captain asked.

  “We’re attending a party here, and it would look suspicious if we left before the end of it. Can you stay in port for a fortnight?”

  “Certainly, if you pay for my time.”

  “We will,” Callen replied. “When we hear news of Sir Kirby, we will inform you when we will need to leave. If we have to leave at all.”

  “They will only persecute me if the lad dies,” Theo said, “If he lives, well, then it was just another poorly executed duel.”

  Captain Marlowe chuckled. “Interesting, very well.”

  Callen withdrew a pouch of money from his cloak and handed it to Captain Marlowe. “The first deposit. You’ll receive the remainder when we board.”

  Capt. Marlowe took the pouch and nodded. “As you wish. We’ll anchor in the harbor, and I’ll give my men some leave time. Will that suffice?”

  “Yes,” Theo said.

  “Good, then I believe we’re done here.” The men turned and Theo heard the clatter of a rock falling. He squinted at the dark bank of boulders that bordered the beach and a fist-sized stone rolled onto the sand. He shared a look with his brother, and they bolted to the shadows of the boulders near the path they’d use to reach the beach. They didn’t expect anyone to be out here, and they certainly didn’t want anyone to have seen them.

  “Do you think it’s a person or an animal?” Callen whispered.

  “We won’t know unless we look.”

  They crept up the path, careful to keep to the shadows. Theo paused as they passed a small crevice between two boulders. He thought he heard someone breathing. He jerked his head to the crevice to warn his brother. Callen nodded toward the head of the path, and they moved up. They found a spot where they could watch the path and be concealed.

  They didn’t have to wait long before a small cloaked form crawled out from the crevice and scurried up the path.

  Theo reached out and grabbed the person, spinning and pressing them against the rock. The slight weight of the person astonished Theo as he held his forearm against their collar bone. As the hood fell back, the last thing he expected to see was a Marsden daughter staring back at him. He bit back a curse.

  Chapter 2

  Let her go,” Callen said.

  “She’s seen too much already,” Theo said.

  “You are scaring her. Let her go.”

  Theo dropped his hand from her mouth. “Don’t scream,” he warned.

  Miss Lunette gulped in a breath.

  “What are you doing down here?” Theo asked.

  “I…” She drew in another breath, her gaze darting back and forth between them. Her eyes looked black, but he knew the color to be a warm brown. The sisters all looked alike, but Miss Lunette was not the most beautiful. The twins held that title in his opinion, though it was Nicolette who drew his stare most often. She had sultry brown eyes and cherry red lips. He’d caught himself ogling her mouth more than he’d like to admit.

  “I’m looking for an herb,” Miss Lunette said.

  He looked to Callen in disbelief.

  Callen pulled out his pocket watch and considered the time, holding it up in the weak light.

  “It’s nearly midnight,” he said. “Who looks for herbs on the beach at midnight?”

  “I’m looking for something specific that can only be found at night. By the light of day, it’s indistinguishable among common weeds, but at night the leaves glow.”

  Theo scoffed. “No plant glows.”

  “According to the medicinal text I’m reading, Star herb does.”

  “Enough of this. It doesn’t matter what she’s doing,” Callen said.

  “Correct. It only matters what she saw,” Theo added.

  “I saw nothing. The herb grows here amid the damp rocks. If I go any lower, it’s too wet. If I go any higher, it’s too dry. The only thing I’ve seen is right in between these rocks, and I was looking between them here, not at the beach, not at the water.”

  Theo met his brother’s concerned gaze. Should they believe her? How much risk could she pose?

  “I don’t really care what you’re doing here. And I’d
rather no one know that either of us were out tonight. Now if you let me go, I will return to my room and you can return to…whatever it is you’re doing. Stargazing, perhaps?”

  Stargazing? He let go of her. She clearly didn’t want anyone to know she was out here. He had some leverage, and where he had leverage, he had an opportunity to use other means to increase that leverage. Like seduction. He didn’t feel anything for this woman. An image of Nicolette appeared in his mind. She’d worn a red gown to dinner, something that must belong to the duchess, and the color had matched her wine-stained lips. With a twinge of regret, he wished he’d found her on the beach. And that they were alone.

  “Why don’t I escort you back,” he said. In truth, he couldn’t have either sister. But Miss Lunette didn’t have to know that. He could make her think he was interested, distract her with a bit of flirtation, though the idea sounded about as tempting as mud. She simply didn’t have whatever it was Miss Nicolette had.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, thank you.”

  Apparently, she felt the same toward him.

  Callen stepped close. “We can both escort her back. We should all return to the castle after our stargazing.”

  Theo stepped back. His brother led her up the path, and Theo followed with a frown. If she couldn’t be swayed with passion, how would they convince her to remain quiet?

  “I must return through the kitchen,” she said.

  “I think we should have a little chat first,” Callen pressed. They entered the sleeping castle, and Callen led them to an empty sitting room.

 

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