A Woman Made For Sin

by Michele Sinclair

  Chase nodded and said, “I will tell her you were here when she awakens.”

  Stuart pointed at the book. “It’s a good story. I’d wake up to hear it.” And then he was gone.

  Chase fingered the worn copy. He suspected he had at least one leather-bound version downstairs somewhere in his library along with the other novels Sir Walter Scott had written. But instead of going to get them, he opened the cover, turned to the first page, and began to read.

  Chapter 33

  November 17, 1816

  “Edward wants far more than just the maps,” Millie said, leaning back against the pillows. “He wants revenge.”

  Chase stood with his arms crossed, looking out the window. “He won’t have it and I won’t discuss it any further. You are still weak and are far too fragile to be worried about such things.”

  Millie sighed audibly. Though she did not consider herself fragile, Chase was right. She was tired and weak. She had woken up last night to him reading, and at first had trouble believing she was really alive and back home. But seeing Chase cry—something she had never seen before—was enough for her to realize that she was finally where she truly belonged.

  He had told her his conclusions concerning his sister. He assured her that Jennelle was aware she was now safe and would most likely be arriving in another day or two. He had even told her about Stuart and what he had come to say. But the one topic Chase refused to discuss was Edward.

  “I am tired,” she admitted. “And I will only grow more weary if you continue refusing to tell me what I need to know. Is Edward alive? Are you close to apprehending him? Do you know what he wants?”

  Chase pivoted and ran his hand through his hair, rubbing his scalp. “I offer a compromise. I will tell you briefly what you want to know and then no more until you are completely healed.”

  Millie twitched her jaw. Compromising was something Charles Wentworth never did. And if it did not work this time, she suspected he might never offer another concession on any topic in the future. “I agree. But only if you will tell me all I want to know. Not just the parts you want to tell me.”

  Chase dropped into one of the chairs close to her. “The parts I want to tell,” he grumbled, “are none.”

  Millie clasped her hands in front of her and looked at him pointedly.

  “Did you kill him?” Chase began. “I doubt it, as we have not found a body. Are we close to finding him? Unfortunately, no, and we have no leads as to where he was staying or where he went. I doubt we will until he resurfaces to get what he wants.”

  “And just what does he want?”

  “What you already know. Some old maps that Reece and I purchased along with several other items. And, no, I do not know what they represent or why they are important. I am waiting for Reece to return to help, which hopefully will be before the end of the month.”

  “I want to see one of the maps,” Millie said, hoping that he would concede but prepared for him to say no.

  Chase rubbed his temples. “Millie, you are ill. You were stabbed. You do not need to be getting involved with something with which you cannot possibly help!”

  Millie felt a tear slip down her cheek and wiped it away, praying that another did not follow. “So, I am assuming you intend to send me away again to keep me from even seeing what it is Edward wants so badly.”

  Chase shook his head. “I admit that I want to do that very thing—not to keep you from seeing the maps, but to keep you safe. Can you blame me? I almost lost you for the second time.”

  “I don’t know . . .” Millie began and then stopped, hesitating before trying again. “I do not know if I can be what you need in a wife. I understand what you want—even why—and while so much of me wants to be that for you, at some point I will revert to my nonconforming ways. I love you more than I will ever love anyone. But I am not sure that I am capable of changing . . . even for you.”

  Changing. There was that word again. Why did everyone think that he wanted them to change? Minor adjustments perhaps, but he did not want Millie to be anyone other than who she was. He needed her to be herself. Did she not understand that?

  “I never wanted you to change who you are, Millie. It’s more about wanting you to accept me and who I am.”

  Millie’s jaw went slack. “I have never given you lectures about how to act as a proper husband. Not a single conversation have we ever had about what is expected of you as the Marquess of Chaselton now that you have a wife.”

  Chase rolled his eyes, something he could not recall doing a year ago. “Maybe not in those words, but you have not been quiet about your thoughts on my ‘rule-loving’ ways.”

  Millie winced as she heard him parrot one of her favorite descriptions of him.

  “I wonder how you would feel about me if I did change, became some carefree husband, indifferent to your whims. Do you truly want me to just shrug my shoulders when I am told that you are doing something that might put you, Aimee, or Jennelle in danger?”

  “No, I wouldn’t but—”

  “But what, Millie? You want to remain yourself, but cannot I ask the same? I like rules. I like the clarity they bring. In general, they generate security, which is something I desire for those I love. And while I might not always agree with every rule, I understand the consequences to those that I break—and I do break them from time to time.”

  Millie felt another tear fall and then another. This time she did not try to stop them as it would be pointless. “Is it hopeless then? Are we just to accept that while we love each other, we cannot be together and be ourselves?”

  “Who says we cannot be ourselves?” Chase countered, rising up to his feet. “We just proved that we can compromise when we decide to, even on serious topics. Why can we not on other things?”

  Millie bit her bottom lip and considered the question. In her mind, she had been compromising for months now, but after hearing his point of view, so had Chase. But had they really been compromising? Compromise consisted of concessions by both parties. What she had been doing was surrendering to what she thought he wanted. Giving up all for him, and based on what Chase just said, he had often felt the same. But if they compromised, it would be acknowledgment of the other’s desires and an agreement on just where those desires could be tempered. “I want to try. More than anything, I want to try.”

  Chase walked over to the side of the bed, sat down, and pulled Millie into his arms. He held her for a long moment before pulling back to kiss her. His lips were tender and full of the love he held for her. It filled Millie with hope, for she did not think she could live without him in her life. She had to be herself, and yet too much of herself now included him.

  “I love you. We will find a way to make things work,” Chase said. “But know this: I will work with you on any topic save one. I will never, ever compromise on your being in my life. I need you too much, Millie. More than I should have ever allowed, but it is too late. You are my soul, and I shall perish without you.”

  Millie leaned over and brushed her mouth across his. “That is one compromise I can live without.”

  Chapter 34

  November 20, 1816

  Clive lifted the glass up so that he could see it better in the light. With a scowl, he took one of his cleaner towels and wiped it down to remove the dirt. “Even now that damn woman is making me do things I don’t want to,” he muttered and lifted the next glass.

  He had almost three dozen more to go through before he opened up the place. Something he was still dithering on doing. Ellie had sent the cases with a note.

  I have instructed my husband’s man-of-affairs to give you a hundred pounds, but you must do two things. You have to keep the new glasses and use them. And secondly, you must close down Six Belles for one evening.

  Pride had almost caused Clive to bellow at the man who delivered the cases to take his damn glasses and Ellie’s money and get the hell out of his place. And if he were ten years younger, he would have, but Clive had learned too many painf
ul lessons from being hasty. Denying Ellie’s offer would not have been hard, but one hundred pounds was a lot of money. It was enough to enable him to make some changes that he had always longed to do.

  “She said I had to do two things,” Clive had snorted at the polished, unfazed man standing in front of him. “Tell her that I’ll take the glasses and I’ll use ’em. But I’m not shutting down my place on some woman’s whim.”

  The man had merely nodded and said, “I will convey your message. I am sure that her ladyship will be saddened by your decision, but she will understand.”

  And then the man had left.

  “Why would she care if I open my place or not?” he asked himself aloud.

  The answer suddenly came to him. Was Ellie thinking of coming here? A marchioness? She had been here for weeks, but not as herself. That would be different. Clive had no doubt that her husband—a marquess—would be at her side. Both of them would be in all their finery and he had no way to stop them. If he was open, he would never live it down. The men would chide him for years for rubbing elbows with the titled. It would ruin him.

  He put the glass down and headed out the doors. Several boys were across the street playing a game with rocks. He called out to them and gave them each a penny for spreading the word that Six Belles was closed for the night. If they made sure not a single man came up to the door the whole night, they would get an additional sixpence. Seeing their faces go from skepticism to belief reminded Clive once again why he was so glad he always kept his word.

  Then he turned to go back inside and waited.

  Just after eight o’clock, he heard the sound he had known was coming. A few seconds later, the carriage stopped just outside his doors. Clive held his breath. He wanted to reprimand Ellie for being so shortsighted, but with her husband there, that would be an impossibility. Clive doubted he could have done it anyway. He had a hard enough time dealing with her when she had been just a simple, infuriating lass.

  The door opened and Clive felt his mouth go completely slack. And for the first time since Ellie forced her way into his life, he felt absolutely and completely grateful that she had.

  “I cannot believe you are not right there watching the whole thing.”

  Millie smiled. “How I want to be there, but a piece of me knows that even if I want to, I’ll never see Six Belles again. While I would love to see everyone again, it would cause problems.”

  Jennelle nodded in understanding. “Not to mention that Charles would never let you go.”

  Millie smiled, wondering if she could get him to compromise on the topic. Perhaps, if she would agree to let him go with her. Either way, it did not matter. For a few brief weeks she had crossed over and lived in another social class. Miraculously, her reputation had not suffered. But if she were to even visit that world again, it would not just risk her and Chase’s reputations, it could seriously debilitate Clive’s—and therefore Bessie’s—livelihood. No, it was better she sent her thank-you in the form that she had.

  “Bessie sounds like she can be difficult. Do you think that she went?”

  “Oh, she went,” Millie declared. “Bessie is many things, but she is no fool. She would be unable to refuse the opportunity to live out a secret dream.”

  Lying in bed every day had been torturous. Chase had been there most of the time, and it was during her detailed stories about the people she had met and worked with that the idea of how to thank Clive and Bessie occurred to her. Millie had been uncertain how Chase would react, as it was another unorthodox plan that in no way resembled the actions of a marchioness. But he had surprised her and readily agreed—just as long as it was his man-of-affairs and neither of them doing the actual delivery.

  And so the next day a large selection of materials was sent to Evette along with payment for a cloak, a new working dress, and one evening gown. Once complete, she was to deliver them to Bessie along with a note.

  My dearest Bessie,

  Unknowingly, you, Evette, and Clive helped to make my dreams come true. It is only fair that I repay the debt and help make yours a reality as well.

  Best Regards,

  Millie Chaselton

  Millie sighed. “I only wish I could have seen her in Evette’s creation.”

  “Not me,” Jennelle said, shaking her head. “I’ve never met either of them, but based on all that you have told me, it is Clive that I would like to have seen. I bet his eyes popped out of his head when Bessie arrived.”

  Millie laughed. “If they did not, then I am sure they did when all the food and the waiters came in wanting to set up a table for them on the roof of Six Belles.”

  Jennelle joined her. “Oh, it is too sad that you cannot communicate and find out what happened.”

  Millie winked at her. “We’ll find out. I am thinking that I might be in desperate need of some new clothes before we leave Town. While we are at Madame Sasha’s, we will find a way to corner Evette and learn all the details.”

  “After Madame Sasha grills you.”

  Millie grimaced. “Unfortunately, you are right. She is not going to be happy learning what happened. I just hope she will be somewhat mollified when I tell her that I was truly unaware of the danger regarding Chase and the thief.”

  “Well, you have another week to think of what to say, for I expect it will be at least that long before Charles is willing to let you leave this room.”

  Millie scoffed and threw off the covers to let her legs swing over the bed’s side. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Jennelle watched as Millie stuck her feet into some slippers and then put on a dressing gown and tied it around her waist. “What will Charles say if he finds you out of bed?”

  “Not a thing. I’ve agreed to all the security he deems necessary, and he ignores my need to sneak downstairs several times a day, just as long as I don’t try to leave the house. This way I can be myself and break some rules, while he is no longer worried that I’ll break the ones that truly bother him. This way we are both happy,” Millie finished with a shrug of her shoulders.

  No longer tongue-tied, Jennelle murmured, “I’m never getting married.”

  “I remember saying that once,” Millie said, chuckling. “Meanwhile, there is something you need to see.”

  Chase entered his study and paused when he saw his wife and Jennelle hovering over his desk. Millie being out of bed when she should be in it, resting, was almost expected. That she was in his study was also not surprising, but seeing her studying the maps that were supposed to be cleverly hidden was not what he expected to find when he came home.

  “I did not show you where those items were hidden for you to remove them at your leisure.”

  Millie rounded his desk and went over to give him a light kiss on the mouth. “Do not worry. I did not stress myself by getting them down. It was Jennelle who put forth the effort, and we have only now just begun to study them.”

  “I told you before—”

  “And I heard you. But truly, Charlie, is there any harm in Jennelle and I looking at the very thing that is making us live with all this additional protection you have hired?”

  Wanting to throttle and kiss her at the same time, Chase gave in to his second inclination and pulled Millie in close. With Jennelle in the room, it was a far less passionate embrace than he would have preferred, but every day Millie grew stronger. It would not be long now before he could truly show Millie just how much she was loved.

  “Then look at them if you must, but when you realize you can understand it no better than I, will you agree to keep them concealed until Reece arrives?”

  Millie nodded happily.

  Jennelle sat down in the chair that Chase normally occupied, quite engrossed in what she was looking at. “Charles, just what do you think this is a map of?”

  Chase went over and said, “I do not know, and outside of Reece, I do not trust any man who has enough knowledge of the sea and its charts to decipher it.”

  Jennelle shook he
r head and looked up, her eyes bright with excitement. “Charles, these are not islands, and no sea captain is going to be able to tell you what these are.”

  Millie went over to stand next to Chase. “Jennelle, what do you mean?”

  Standing up, Jennelle fingered the large mark at the top of the map. “This symbol,” she said, “is one that I have studied a great deal. I have written and debated with experts in recent years on whether these maps even existed. And now, standing here, I find it hard to believe that I am actually looking at something that is almost eight hundred years old.”

  Millie sucked in her breath. “How old?”

  Ignoring the rhetorical question, Jennelle looked up and stared intently at Chase. “And if I am right and these are what I believe they are, then I know what Sir Edward is looking for . . . and it isn’t on an island. And it most certainly is not treasure—at least not in the way most people define the word.”

  Chase held her gaze. “Then just what is he after?”

  “Something that should not be in any man’s hands. Something so powerful, it could potentially give Edward the power over, well . . . everything.”

  Epilogue

  November 21, 1816

  Reece watched Captain Shay from the corner of his eye pretend to amble along the deck acting as if his intentions were to quietly check on the work of his crew. Reece had no doubt that in just a few moments the balding old man would just “happen” to spy him leaning on the rail, when in reality it had been Shay’s primary purpose of stepping onto this part of the main deck. Worse, the aging captain probably suspected that Reece knew of this and was enjoying making Reece wait by prolonging his stroll.

  At long last, the sound of a satisfied sigh joined the wind on Reece’s right.