“They were childhood friends. It sounds as if they cared deeply for each other. But she fell ill when she was expecting. He lost both her and the babe nearly three years ago.”
“That’s terrible.” Tessa couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, though she knew he’d hate that.
“You’re the first person to capture his interest since then, according to what Samuel told her. Apparently the footman and his family have served the family for generations. He’s very protective of the earl.”
“I noticed that.”
“Did you also know that Samuel is convinced you and the earl are fated to be together?”
Tessa gave a shaky smile. “No.”
“His lordship told Samuel his own Lady Jordan saved him when the footman found him in the alley. I would guess that must’ve been quite the moment—when he thought you were his angel just like the story passed down through the generations.” Aunt Betty watched her over the rim of her tea cup.
“At the time, he was severely injured. He wasn’t thinking clearly.” Tessa felt compelled to protest.
“All the more reason it was a shock to see you appear before him.”
Tessa pushed aside her tea. “What are you suggesting?”
“Maybe fate truly has brought you together. Perhaps the reason has not yet been revealed. Did you tell him how you feel?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I...” Tessa hesitated. Why hadn’t she? “Because I’m afraid he doesn’t feel the same way.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Because I’m afraid to risk trusting someone else with my heart.”
Aunt Betty reached for her hand. “I can only assume you’re thinking of your father. I understand why his poor behavior has shaded your view of people, men in particular. But if you don’t take a risk and declare your love, aren’t you allowing your father to steal your happiness once again?”
Tessa wiped away her tears but more took their place. “Obviously Marcus doesn’t love me.”
“From what little I’ve learned of his past, I would guess he either doesn’t believe he’s capable of loving someone or he doesn’t want to take the risk of losing a loved one again.”
Tessa’s heart pounded. “Who am I to try to convince him? I’m a seamstress, not an heiress, not a member of the ton. I don’t belong to his world.”
“It sounds as if he comes from a long line of unions just like that. After all, his thirteenth century grandfather was an English knight who married a Scottish bride. I don’t suppose she felt as though she belonged when she entered his world either.”
“Our situation isn’t anything like that romantic tale.”
“If Lady Jordan were here, I have to surmise she’d tell us she didn’t think her own story was romantic at the time.”
“Are you suggesting I go to Marcus and declare my feelings?” The idea terrified Tessa. She could picture him turning away all too easily, leaving her in tatters. She didn’t think she was strong enough to endure that.
Aunt Betty leaned forward. “True love is worth taking risks. It’s worth fighting for. Few are lucky enough to experience it. It’s a gift not to be taken lightly.” She stood and gave Tessa a hug. “This decision must be yours, and yours alone. Just be sure that if you decide walking away is best, you won’t spend your future living in regret. I’ll be in the shop if you need me.”
Tessa remained where she was for a long while, clutching her cup of tea, which had now gone cold.
Did she dare take such a risk?
~*~
Marcus stared at the list of three names on the paper before him as he sat at his desk. A vague image of each woman came to mind, but none erased the one of Tessa. He thought he’d narrowed down the list so carefully over the short time he’d been in London. Yet how could he possibly pick a wife from this list when the one he truly desired was not among them?
His gaze lifted to the small framed picture of Mary he kept on his desk. He missed her still, and he didn’t think that feeling would ever go away. Nor did he want it to. Forgetting her was impossible.
But he was beginning to wonder if it might be possible to honor her memory and still find happiness. Tessa’s departure had hurt far more than he anticipated. He’d been angry at her refusal at first, but that anger hadn’t lasted. Not when he remembered the hurt on her face. He wasn’t certain he could give her what he thought she wanted, what she deserved.
The sound of someone clearing his throat had Marcus glancing up. Samuel stood at the library doorway, hands clasped before him, looking unusually somber.
“What is it?” Marcus asked.
Samuel walked forward to stand before his desk. “I wanted you to know that Miss Maycroft and her aunt arrived safely at their shop.”
“Thank you.”
“What do you intend to do?”
The question was impertinent for a footman, but Samuel was hardly a mere footman. Even though Marcus knew he asked it out of concern, it still annoyed him because he didn’t know the answer. The indecision that gripped him was unfamiliar and most unwelcome.
“I don’t know,” he admitted at last as he dropped the list to his desk. No amount of imagination put any of those women with him in the coming days, let alone a year or two from now. He just couldn’t see any of them becoming a part of his life, even in a marriage of convenience.
“I know ’tis not my place,” Samuel began.
Marcus nearly groaned, for any time the man started with that, it ended with something Marcus had no wish to hear.
“But I like her. I thought she made you happy.”
As Marcus opened his mouth to respond, Samuel held up his hand to stop him.
“I know ’tis only a coincidence that she has the same coloring as Lady Jordan or that she happened upon you when you needed help. But Miss Maycroft is an unusual lady. She deserves happiness, and I don’t think she’s used to having it. If you don’t think you can make her happy, then it’s better that she left.”
The footman paused, casting a glance at the picture of Mary. “I don’t think she would want you to spend the rest of your days alone. As much as Miss Maycroft deserves happiness, you do too.”
Marcus closed his eyes for a moment, uncertain what to say.
“Just something to think about,” Samuel added. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you have need of me.”
When Marcus opened his eyes again, the room was empty. Yet Samuel’s question rang in his ears.
What do you intend to do?
CHAPTER TEN
The next afternoon, Marcus strode across the dock toward his ship with Samuel at his side. Sometime, in the middle of the night, he’d come to a decision. But before he proceeded with it, he needed to resolve this matter.
The police inspector he’d spoken with shortly after Culbert’s arrest had agreed to meet him nearby with several officers to search his ship for the “illegal cargo”. The ship was due to leave in a few short hours. Marcus assumed the captain had the girls on board. With no other proof to present to the police, showing them the evidence was his only hope. Culbert certainly wasn’t confessing anything from what the police inspector had said.
A man with a limp walked past him, and the familiar face had Marcus reaching out to take his arm. “Hawke? Is that you?”
Nathaniel Hawke glanced at him, his blue eyes vivid in his sun-darkened face. “Warenton, it’s been a long time,” he said with a smile and a slap on his back. “What brings you here from the wilds of Northumberland? I thought you avoided leaving Wolfe’s Lair when possible.”
“Certain occasions call for it.”
“I was terribly sorry to hear about your wife. I was on foreign shores when I learned of it, or I would’ve paid a visit.”
“Thank you. I received your letters.”
“And I received yours as well.”
Hawke had written off and on over the years. His letters were always entertaining, filled with descriptions of the exotic places he visited but n
ever any personal information about himself.
Marcus knew him well enough to read between the lines. They’d attended university together and become good friends. As a second son, Hawke had joined the Navy partly to escape his father and partly to be of service to his country. His father’s poor treatment of him bordered on abuse, in Marcus’s opinion. But Hawke had seemed to rise above it.
“Civilian clothes?” Marcus asked as he looked him up and down, noting the cane he held.
“Injured and discharged,” he said with little emotion as he gestured toward his leg. “Time for new adventures closer to home.”
Marcus glanced at Samuel before turning back to Hawke. “Speaking of new adventures, I don’t suppose you have a few minutes to aid us?” Having someone like Hawke at his side in case things went wrong would be reassuring.
“Of course. I just paid a visit to one of my men who is shipping out today. What do you need?”
“Allow me to share with you what has happened thus far.” He clapped his friend on the back, pleased to have run into him.
~*~
Tessa walked along the dock, searching for Marcus. She’d ventured to his home only to be told that he was here, seeing to his ship. While she could’ve waited at his house for his return, she’d decided against it. In truth, she feared she might lose her nerve if she waited any longer. She had to speak with him before what little courage she had failed her.
With Culbert in prison and nothing untoward happening, she felt it safe to venture to the dock, especially when she knew Marcus was there.
She looked for his tall form everywhere but didn’t see him. She approached his steamship, resolved to find him near there.
Several men carried goods onto the ship. Large wooden crates were being hoisted on board at the far end. She had no intention of boarding but hoped to catch sight of him from the dock.
While she searched, she rehearsed what she would say and how she would say it. Part of her worried what she had to tell him would make no difference. Though tempted to agree to become his mistress and hope that in time, he might grow to care for her, she refused to settle for such a small part of him. She knew such an arrangement would never make her happy, therefore, it wouldn’t make him happy either.
“Who do we have here?”
She turned to find Culbert standing directly behind her, his knife pointed at her. Fear froze her to the spot.
~*~
“Who is that boarding your ship?” Hawke asked.
Marcus turned to see a tall man who resembled Culbert escorting a woman onboard. Despite only seeing the woman’s cloak and hat, there was no denying her identity.
“Tessa.” Marcus rushed forward only to have Hawke take hold of his arm.
Marcus stared at her, unable to believe his eyes. Why was she boarding his ship with a man who was supposed to be in prison?
“I believe we’re outnumbered,” Hawke advised. “We need a better plan than to simply confront them.”
Several men awaited Culbert’s approach near the ship’s railing.
“I thought the police were going to assist us,” Samuel said.
“As did I.” Marcus looked at his two companions. “Why don’t the two of you wait here for them. I’ll see if I can somehow negotiate her release.”
“I’ll join you,” Hawke offered. “Samuel can direct the police.”
“I’m going to help rescue the lady,” Samuel protested. “The police can find their own way to us.”
“Very well,” Marcus said as he started toward his ship. “With luck, we can find some way to distract them and free Tessa.”
“That’s not much of a plan,” Hawke countered.
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“I’ll share a better one as soon as I think of it. Do either of you have weapons?”
Samuel gave a nod. “I have a pistol in my waistband and a knife in my boot.”
“As do I,” Marcus added.
“Excellent. That helps even the odds.”
A crewmember stood on the dock at the end of the ramp leading to the boat. From the look on his face as he stared at them, he didn’t intend to allow them to pass.
Marcus didn’t break his stride as he brushed past him, knocking him down. Samuel struck the man when he attempted to rise. The three men continued onto the ramp.
Tessa was no longer in view, nor was Culbert. Marcus decided the best option would be to confront the captain. From what Hiddleston had confessed under duress when Marcus had returned to terminate his employment, the captain was one of the leaders of the group.
Several men gathered where the ramp attached to the ship. Fighting them would only delay him reaching Tessa. He withdrew his pistol from his pocket and pointed it at the chest of the man nearest the ramp.
The man’s eyes went wide, and he held up his hands, palms out, and backed away slowly. The other men did the same. Marcus passed through them, keeping his pistol at the ready. A glance over his shoulder showed Hawke and Samuel following but keeping their pistols directed at the men to make certain they weren’t rushed from behind.
Marcus continued toward the bridge where the captain should be. With luck, that was where Culbert had taken Tessa. One of the men they’d passed called out, warning the other crewmembers of trouble. Several hurried out but only one held a gun. He lowered it when he saw he was outnumbered.
Taking that as an invitation to the bridge, Marcus kept walking. The door stood ajar. Relief filled him when he spotted Tessa. Damn, what was she doing here? Unfortunately, Culbert stood directly behind her. From the frightened look on Tessa’s face, he had to assume Culbert had already threatened her, probably with that damned blade he always seemed to carry.
He drew a breath in an attempt to contain the anger flowing through him. Culbert smirked as he stared at Marcus. The captain seemed less than surprised to see him as he raised a gun and pointed it at Marcus.
“I suppose Hiddleston told you to expect me,” Marcus said.
“We may have had a few words.” Captain Thomas nodded.
His lack of concern at the situation worried Marcus. Or perhaps the man was simply overconfident. No matter. Marcus intended to come out of this with the upper hand. And Tessa.
Samuel guarded the door, making certain no one else entered. Hawke stood near Marcus.
Marcus glared at Culbert. “I’m surprised to see you out of prison.”
Culbert smiled. “I’ve friends in high places.”
Realizing he’d underestimated the number of people involved in this terrible trade, he set aside the information for now. He needed to get Tessa out of danger before he worried about such things. “Release Miss Maycroft,” Marcus demanded.
“Not until you and your men are off my ship,” the captain countered.
“We’ll also be taking the girls in the cargo hold with us,” Marcus continued as though Captain Thomas hadn’t spoken.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The captain smiled but it was far from pleasant.
“Hiddleston already told me everything. I know about the girls and how you sell them in Brussels.”
Thomas’s eyes narrowed with displeasure.
“Have one of your men bring up the girls,” Marcus ordered.
“I don’t think so,” Culbert said as he prodded Tessa in the back, causing her to gasp. “Your lady here wants them to stay below.”
“Culbert, you fool,” the captain said. “Keep your mouth shut.”
Marcus glanced at Hawke out of the corner of his eye, hoping he had an idea of how to end this standoff. Perhaps all those years in the military had given him experience that would be helpful.
Hawke tipped his head to the side ever so slightly toward the captain. Marcus had to assume he intended to disarm him. That left Marcus to take care of Culbert, and Samuel to continue guarding the open door.
He gave the barest of nods to Hawke then caught Tessa’s gaze. With Culbert watching him, he couldn’t be too obvious, but he want
ed to give her some sort of warning of what was to come.
Tessa’s gaze fastened on Marcus as though waiting for his signal. Before he had a chance to worry about what she intended, she thrust her elbow into Culbert’s belly. Then she raised her foot to stomp on his.
Hawke’s movements were a blur as he dove for the captain.
Marcus rushed Culbert as Tessa spun out of the man’s grasp. Though the man bent over in pain, he still held his knife.
“Stupid woman,” Culbert yelled and lunged for her. He caught her arm, but Tessa jerked free.
Marcus didn’t dare try to fire a shot. Not with Tessa so close. He reached down and drew his knife from his boot then leaped for Culbert. His knife found its mark in Culbert’s shoulder, bringing them both to the floor. Culbert screamed but still didn’t release his knife. The man twisted, managing to wrench his arm free from Marcus’s grasp. His blade sliced through Marcus’s jacket.
“No,” Tessa cried out. She tugged Culbert’s hat down over his eyes, temporarily blinding him.
Her action distracted Culbert enough for Marcus to squeeze the man’s wrist until he dropped the knife.
“Hold. Police,” someone shouted.
A policeman grabbed Culbert’s knife and stood on the man’s wrist. Another kneeled beside Marcus and grabbed Culbert’s flailing arm. “We’ll take it from here, my lord.”
Marcus stood, his gaze seeking Tessa. Her eyes were wide as she took in the scene around her then looked at Marcus. She bit back a sob and moved toward him as he reached to draw her close.
Her body trembled against his. Or perhaps that was his form that shook.
“Did he cut you?” she asked, staring closely at him.
Marcus looked down. “Only my jacket.”
“Thank goodness. I’m so sorry, Marcus,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.”
“Shh. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re all right.”
She nodded, breathing deeply to calm herself.
Trusting the Wolfe Page 9
