Neither had he, but his rudeness stemmed from his current frustration, particularly at having her so close and being unable to touch her. His fingers itched with the need to hold her hands in his and press a kiss to her gloved knuckles.
“You need a stern talking to.” She crossed to the settee and sat with a flourish, her lacy wrap looped behind her back and the trailing ends pooling on the padded seat either side of her.
“My apologies. Begin,” he said with a flick of his fingers in the hope she’d take that gesture as please, make this conversation quick.
“Still rude.” She lifted her sweet little chin and eyed him defiantly down her nose. “Firstly, your father was worried about your sister. He asked if I might guide and mind Maria, what with it being her first Season and your mother gone these past three years. I, of course, promptly agreed to his request. I adore Maria and in truth consider her more like a sister than a friend, just as my own sisters, Ellie and Olivia are.”
“I see.” Well, he couldn’t fault Father’s choice of minder for his sister, but Sophia’s aid with Maria’s first Season was now no longer necessary. It would be another year before she could enter a ballroom, her need to grieve properly, imperative. “I had actually intended on sending Maria to our country estate for a few months while I ran my investigations, but when I broached the idea to her, she told me quite adamantly that she won’t leave my side. She wishes to remain here in town.”
“Which is most understandable. We all need our loved ones close at a time like this. May I speak with Maria today? I haven’t seen her as yet, or is she keeping to herself for a reason?” His feisty lady smiled like an angel, her golden curls bobbing in loose waves, curls he wanted to wind around his fingers so he could tug her to him.
“She is, in fact, resting.” Hopefully his answer was unarguable. He certainly kept his tone as bland as possible.
“Oh, well, I had hoped to see her. I miss her dreadfully.”
“Clearly, you can’t. Woodman!” he bellowed as he stuck one finger under his black cravat and loosened it a touch. His butler was never far away, and he needed his man right now.
A clatter of footsteps pounded up the stairs and Woodman swept in and halted before him, his hands clasped behind his back and the silvery streak at his brow, falling forward. “My lord, you called?”
“Yes, please escort Lady Sophia downstairs so she might enjoy refreshments with the duke and duchess.”
“Indeed, I shall.” A clip of his polished heels as he awaited Sophia to rise. “My lady, please follow me.”
“No, I’m not yet done meeting with his lordship.” Sophia brushed Woodman off with a stunning smile. “Let Their Graces know I shall be downstairs soon.”
“I, ah—” Woodman lobbed him a look. His butler had never defied one of his orders to date, and now with Sophia contradicting his request so beautifully, it had his man at a quandary.
He released a long and loud sigh. “Return when I next call,” he instructed his man and Woodman let out a relieved breath and vanished out the door.
“Sophia, is that you? Did I hear your voice?” Maria swept into his study, her long brown locks falling in gentle waves down her back, directly underneath her veil, her mourning gown strictly black. “You are here. How wonderful you’ve come for a visit.”
“Your obstinate brother has finally allowed my entrance.” Sophia rushed across and engulfed his sister in her arms. She kissed both Maria’s cheeks and squeezed her tightly to her. “Oh, how I’ve missed you this past week. How have you been, my dear one?”
“I’ve missed you terribly too.” Maria hugged Sophia back, tears welling in her eyes. “My brother has become a guard dog since his return. I feared I might never see you again.”
“His bark is worse than his bite, thankfully.” Sophia shot him a challenging look, the little minx. “Your brother and I have now come to an understanding, of which he shall allow me to visit, as often as you’d please. Isn’t that correct, Lord Donnelly?”
“No.”
“Oh dear, we must rid you of that nasty bite.” A tut-tut from Sophia.
“Now who is being rude?” He wasn’t going to win this argument, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t go down without a jolly good fight.
“You don’t wish for your sister to hold onto the treasured friendship she and I have?” His lady linked arms with his sister, both of them giving him a rather disdainful look.
By Jove, he’d gone down already.
With a nod, he grumbled, “Lady Sophia, if you wish to visit my sister, please come as often as you’d like. Just ensure you have a suitable escort when you do.”
“Thank you, and I certainly shall.” Smiling wide, she returned her gaze to his sister. “We shall enjoy the sunshine and delightful conversation whenever you wish. I almost brought Beast with me today.”
“Winterly’s new hunting dog?”
“Yes, he’s growing by leaps and bounds and is so incredibly playful. He adores it when I toss a stick. He fetches it and drops it directly at my feet.”
“Oh, I would dearly love to meet him. He is such a clever pup.” Maria glanced at him, hope wide in her eyes. It had been far too long since his sister had been outside the house and a trip to Sophia’s home would do her a world of good. It would also mean not having Sophia here for one of her visits.
“Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea,” he conceded with a nod. “You may travel as you wish, provided you take an adequate guard. Sawyer or Fuller must be with you at all times.”
“I promise.” A beaming smile from his sister, one he hadn’t seen in far too long.
“Perfect.” Sophia fixed one corner of his sister’s veil then said to her, “Ellie and Ashten are downstairs in the drawing room. They’ll both wish to see you, to ensure you’re well.”
“As I wish to see them.” Maria popped a kiss on Sophia’s cheek. “I do apologize for interrupting your meeting with my brother. Please continue, and I shall see you downstairs once you’re done.” His sister wiggled her fingers at him then dashed away. Not good. He’d been left alone with his minx again.
“All is forgiven, James.” Sadness suddenly dulled Sophia’s eyes, then she blinked and gave her head a little shake before swishing back to the settee. Seated once more, she brushed her skirts straight and murmured, “I’ve always enjoyed speaking with your father, and with you having ridden out for the front line, I garnered a great deal of comfort in being near him.”
“I understand.”
“Do you truly?” An exquisite arch of her brow.
“Yes, more than I could ever express with words.” He crossed to his gold and blue striped wingchair, one of his father’s favorite pieces, then eased down and settled both hands on the armrests. “Is there something you wished to tell me in regard to your time with my father?”
“There most certainly is.” A deep breath. “The day before your father’s passing, he and I sat together in the library downstairs. We chatted about a number of things, but he also spoke of the Fortune Maria, his vessel having sailed into port earlier than expected, that Captain Lewiston had brought in additional cargo from a sunken vessel, including a chest containing a great deal of treasure. I can’t seem to shake that conversation from my mind and it unsettles me. I wished to speak to you about it.”
“I’m aware of the chest and suspect it has something to do with their deaths, except I’m not sure in what way.”
“Your father said the chest was found on a Spanish galleon that capsized along a reef bordering the Spanish empire in the Americas. His excitement over the find was palpable, although I didn’t get the chance to ask him exactly what was included within the chest.”
“I can enlighten you, if you wish.” No harm could come to her if she knew what had been contained within it.
“Please do.” She leaned forward, her gaze absolute on his. “What kind of treasure was uncovered?”
“Father kept a tally of each piece in his private journal. Let me fetch it.” Plucking a key
from his inner black silk waistcoat pocket, he rose and collected his father’s journal from his locked desk drawer. He returned to Sophia, sat next to her and opened the journal to the last two pages of entry. With the journal spread half across his lap and half across hers, he allowed her to read for herself his father’s handwritten script which flowed smoothly from line to line. He read silently along with her.
Twenty-five jade pieces of various carved artifacts. (Listed individually on the following page.)
Forty-six gold coins.
Forty feet of gold chain.
Sixty feet of silver chain.
“Oh goodness, that’s a veritable fortune,” she whispered as she perused the log, the low neckline of her gown dipping and exposing a small heart-shaped mole which sat so tantalizingly over her left breast, right where her heartbeat pulsed.
With her sweet white rose scent swirling around him, his trousers tightened. His cock had always hardened when he was this close to her, his deep desire for her a craving of his very soul. Hell, he should insert some space between them.
Clearing his throat, he shuffled across an inch and—
“Are you all right, James?” She laid a hand on his jacketed arm, stilling his move.
“Donnelly,” he stated firmly.
Hurt flickered in her eyes. “Are you all right, Donnelly?”
“I will never be the same again. When one loses a family member, they lose a part of their very heart.”
“Yes, that’s true.” She tucked her hand back in her lap. “Might I ask what happened to the treasure? You said you suspect it has something to do with their deaths.”
“Mr. Taylor notarized the items, then my father delivered the certified list to the War Office in Whitehall, directly into Colonel Lord Heall’s hands so the treasure might be returned to the Spanish authorities who should have received the chest in the first place had their vessel not sunk.”
“That was very honorable of him. Many men would have kept what they’d found for themselves.”
“Yes, although the chest went missing from the War Office’s locked storage room. It vanished, and the colonel hasn’t been able to locate the thief or any of the stolen items.” He turned the page and tapped the detailed list of twenty-five jade pieces his father had recorded of each carved artifact.
One jade necklace of small birds.
One ceremonial jade mask.
One carved ceremonial jade knife.
One skull-and-bones jade pin.
…
The list went on, and he waited as Sophia read each line. Her full lips glistened a pale pink, her long lashes sweeping down to her cheeks and back up again. “Your father has recorded that all the jade artifacts are noted as being carved by a master carver, his initials etched into each piece.”
“Yes.” Unable to help himself, he caught one of her golden curls, twirled it around his finger then released it. The curl bounced free before settling between her breasts, a few strands curling around the stunning heart-shaped mole.
“Donnelly?”
“Yes?” He dragged his gaze back to hers.
Her gaze softened, her next words a mere whisper, “I’m immensely glad you’re home again, even though you no longer desire a courtship with me.”
“If Winterly knew I currently entertained you alone in my study, he’d—”
“My brother isn’t here, so you needn’t worry about him.” She wet her lips. “Winterly’s also eager to marry me off now Ellie has wed Ashten. Don’t push me away anymore, not as you’ve been doing since your return. This past week has been awful. Every time I knocked on your front door, Woodman sent me away with an apology.”
“I can’t allow any further association between us, not while there is a killer on the loose.” He’d never draw her into the dark depths currently surrounding him. He shuffled about again, her nearness affecting him strongly.
“Am I making you feel uneasy?” A playful question, the little tease. “James?”
“Donnelly.”
“My apologies.” A long sigh. “Perhaps it’s time I left?”
“I’d rather we join the others.”
“Then we’ll do so.” Reticule in hand, she rose to her feet and with a swish of her skirts, sashayed to his door.
He closed the journal and holding it over himself, stalked to his desk. He returned the log to his locked drawer, took a few deep breaths then once assured he was in full command of his senses again, followed her into the passageway.
He halted next to her where she waited along the upper landing overlooking the main foyer below, her beautiful blue eyes as vivid in color as a summer sky and as deep as the ocean itself. “I might not be wearing my regimentals with a saber and pistol in hand, but that makes me no less suitable as your—your—never mind.”
“I understand you have a murderer to uncover and justice to seek, as well as a large earldom to take the reins of, but you could use a friend at your side.”
“Which is why Ashten is here.”
“I wasn’t referring to Ashten as that friend.”
“You and I will never be friends.” He stated that firmly. “You’re meant for another.”
She studied him, her head slanted to one side and the elegant length of her neck exposed. Everything about her intrigued him, as it always had and always would. When deep in thought, she would nibble on her lower lip and plump it up in the most distracting of ways, her sweetly innocent action always bringing a smile to his lips. She did so now, her teeth nipping into the soft flesh.
“Winterly needs to take you in hand.” He crossed his arms.
“I’d rather you did that instead.” She smiled, so damn endearingly. “Or are you in fear of me?”
“I fear nothing.”
“You’re allowing your fear to rule you. Be honest and admit it.”
“There’s simply too much danger for us to be together.”
“You say danger, but I would say intrigue.” She covered his crossed arms with both her gloved hands. “One can’t live their life so questioningly. My dear brother, Harry, would say the same.”
“Harry thrives on danger.” Her brother served with the 18th Royal Hussars and had for several years.
“Yes, Harry loves an adventure, which I do as well.” She raised up on her toes and brushed a soft kiss across his chin, since that was as far as she could reach. “Where is your adventure, my lord?”
“It has been replaced by caution and concern.”
“Well, should you ever wish to embark on an adventure with me, do let me know.” Grinning, she moved back a step, then turned and swept down the stairwell.
“That’ll never happen,” he bit out, gripping the balustrade.
“Perhaps it will. Perhaps it won’t.” She cast him a flirtatious glance over her shoulder and hell, he desperately wished to chase after her, to catch her against him and kiss her senseless, only that would get them both absolutely nowhere, other than in a great deal of trouble.
Trouble neither of them needed.
Trouble he wanted regardless.
Gah, heaven help him.
Chapter 2
Never had Sophia ever been quite so forward with James before, but he tempted her mischievous side like no other ever could. Heat flushed her cheeks as she hurried down the stairwell and crossed the foyer.
“Sophia, is that you?” Ellie’s voice floated toward her from the yellow drawing room.
“Yes, I’m coming.” She entered the room with soft yellow silk wallpaper and matching drapes of the same sunny shade. She’d sat in this room often this past year, two elegant cream settees grouped together in a way that invited cozy conversation.
“Come and sit with us.” Scooting across one of those settees, Ellie’s clear curiosity burned in her eyes. Her sister patted the space she made between her and Maria, her blue day dress tied with fluttering white ribbons under the high waist. “I’ve barely been able to sit still while you’ve been upstairs. I need to know everything you and Donne
lly spoke about.”
A chuckle from Ashten where he stood at the hearth, one hand resting on the mahogany mantel. “Please, put my dear wife out of her misery.”
“I’ll do my best.” She sat between the ladies.
“Would you like tea or coffee during this coming inquisition?” Maria squeezed her hand and rose before crossing to a rosewood side table with drop flaps.
“Tea, please. I haven’t quite garnered the taste for coffee yet, even though Winterly recently received a shipment of some exquisite coffee beans from the Province of Venezuela. The aroma is certainly divine, but nothing surpasses a hot cup of tea.” She rested back against an arrangement of yellow and sky-blue cushions, while before her on the central coffee table sat afternoon tea delights arranged on two plates within easy reach.
“I prefer tea over coffee, just as you do.” Maria poured hot tea from a silver tray set, her mourning veil fluttering down her back and her glossy brown curls swaying underneath the shimmer of gauze. “Cream and sugar as usual?” Maria asked her over her shoulder.
“Yes, please.”
Maria stirred, and handed her the teacup without a rattle on its saucer.
At the doorway, Donnelly appeared with an irritated tug of his black silk waistcoat donned over an equally dark shirt, his jacket unbuttoned overtop and his hooded gaze on her. Sophia couldn’t help but wink at him, while no one was watching, of course. Outrageous behavior, but he stirred that naughty side of her.
“Tea or coffee for you?” Maria asked Donnelly.
“I’d prefer something stronger.”
Maria made a move toward the drinks’ cabinet, but Donnelly stayed her with one hand and instead motioned for her to return to the settee, which his sister did. Taking a deep breath, he rolled his broad shoulders as if shrugging off his tension. Into two glasses, he poured brandy from the decanter, then joined Ashten at the mantel and handed one to him.
“Well?” Ellie whispered to her with a jab in her ribs. “Maria and I want to hear everything.”
“Yes, we’ll perish if you don’t speak this very minute.” Maria leaned in from her seated position. “The men can’t hear. They’re already too busy discussing politics and such.”
The Earl's Bride Page 2
