“I need you to send word to me that you’ve arrived home safely.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his chest. “I will continue to worry otherwise.”
“Of course.” He didn’t wish to leave her worrying about him unnecessarily. Gently, he tipped her face to his, caught her mouth and kissed her until he’d hopefully muddled her thoughts. He’d certainly muddled his own.
Giving his head a shake, he stepped back and after soaking in the sight of her one last time, ducked through the nippy drizzle, the fog still as thick as it had been on his journey here last night. He unknotted his stallion’s reins, mounted his steed and thrust his knees into his horse’s flanks. Spurring his horse onward, he rode home swiftly and arrived as the dawn sun breached the horizon.
One leg swung over, he dismounted and thumped to the gravelly ground before handing his reins to his stable hand who raced forward.
“My lord!” Sawyer galloped in and bounded from his saddle, soot smeared across his chin and hands.
“What’s happened?” His footman would never have left his post at the docks, not until he’d sent a man to take his place, not unless an emergency had arisen.
“The Fortune Maria has returned from her latest voyage, without Captain Lewiston on board.” Half bent over, his hands clasped to his knees, he dragged in a staggered breath from his fast ride. “The ship’s first mate informed me that the captain made port farther along the river twenty-four hours ago. He wished to visit his brother, Geoffrey Lewiston, who owns the Boar Head Tavern, although the captain promised he wouldn’t be long. Unfortunately, he never returned and the first mate sent Paddy, the cabin boy, to seek out the captain. The lad disappeared and since the Fortune Maria had no permission to maintain the mooring at the eastern docks, the officer continued on along the Thames. Mr. Taylor is now overseeing the removal of the ship’s cargo into your warehouses.”
Mr. Taylor would ensure a smooth transition of the cargo. That he had no doubt about. Hmm, only what to do about Captain Lewiston? Lewiston had visited his brother, Geoffrey, from time to time in the past, but he was never gone for long, and for the cabin boy to go missing too? Something was afoot, and he needed to get to the bottom of it.
He scrubbed a hand along his bristly jaw as he nodded at Sawyer. “I want you to update Rignor with this new development and have him take your place at the warehouse docks. Someone must remain there at all times, alert to any happenings. Meanwhile, you and I shall be riding to the tavern. We will find Lewiston and secure an answer.” To his groomsman, he called out, “Parker! Saddle two fresh horses. Sawyer and I shall be riding out shortly.”
“Right away, my lord.” Parker disappeared into the stables.
Donnelly charged across the front lawn, Woodman awaiting him at the front door, his butler having not missed his conversation or the directives he’d issued to Sawyer. Good. He wouldn’t need to repeat himself.
Inside, he strode then stormed up the stairs and entered his study, Woodman directly behind him. He removed his greatcoat and hat and tossed them to his man as he sat at his desk. “How is Lady Maria?” he asked, needing to check on his sister’s welfare.
“Still abed, my lord. There have been no disturbances during the night.”
“Ensure that remains the case. For now, pack me a satchel with clothing, along with items which will allow me to blend in with the locals at the Boar Head Tavern. I’ll also take a tray in my chamber once I’m done here. I have letters to write, which can’t wait.”
Keeping his word to Sophia, he penned a quick note to let her know of his return and subsequent change of plans for the day. Then once done, he penned a second letter to her brother. He had to ensure Winterly knew of his feelings for Sophia, that he would claim her for himself, as soon as he possibly could.
Lord Winterly,
We have known each other for some time and I consider you a friend and firm confidant. As such, you should know that I will always be completely loyal in my affections toward your sister. Lady Sophia is a ray of sunshine which I desperately need in my life.
I have barely survived these past few months being parted from her, so once my investigations into my father and brother’s deaths are complete and justice is served, I shall be paying a call on you for your sister’s hand in marriage.
Yours in trust,
Donnelly.
He folded both letters separately, sealed each with his ring, blew on the hot wax and scrawled Sophia’s name on her missive and Winterly’s on the other. He handed both letters to Woodman who had returned and quietly remained at attention on the other side of his desk. “Have a footman deliver these letters to Lady Sophia Trentbury and the Earl of Winterly at Winterly’s townhouse, not straight away, but in a few hours when their household would have awakened.”
“I shall instruct the footman, my lord. Your tray also awaits you in your chamber, and your satchel has been given to Parker to add to your saddlebags. I have secured clothing which will allow you to blend in with ease along the eastern docks, and which is now laid out on your bed.”
“Good. See to those letters then aid me in my chamber.”
Woodman clipped his polished heels together and disappeared with the letters in hand.
Donnelly strode down the hallway and entered his room, logs crackling in his fireplace and his shaving utensils laid out. Shaving each morning always allowed him a few minutes to sit and reflect before the new day began.
“Take a seat, my lord.” Woodman closed the door behind him, crossed to the side table and poured a finger of liquid from the decanter into a crystal glass, then handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He eased into the blue patterned wingchair. Woodman had served his father before him, was loyal, dedicated, and had an uncanny ability to know exactly what he needed before he even did. He tipped the brandy back. “Walter, have you ever loved a woman?”
“Yes, although a long time ago.” His man dipped the shaving brush into the basin of water and foamed the bar of soap. “Unfortunately, she passed away before we had the chance to wed.”
“What was her name? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Miss Meghan Miller.” With a heartfelt smile, Woodman laid a cloth at his neck then dabbed the foam across his jaw and chin. “I think about her often, how different my life would have been if we’d had the chance to speak vows as we’d intended on doing. My Meghan had the sweetest smile and the most loyal disposition. I loved her from the moment we first met.” Woodman gently scraped his blade from his ear to his chin. “Although she could also be stubborn, particularly when her mind was set, but her stubbornness only made me love and cherish her more.”
“She sounds like someone else I know.”
“If we are speaking of Lady Sophia, then yes. She shows the same stubborn streak as my Meghan did.” Another draw of the blade, along his chin and down his neck.
“You said she passed away. How did that happen?”
“While walking to the village, she was accosted by a thief and took a brutal blow to her head. She managed to stumble home and give her father a description of the assailant, although the next morning she wouldn’t awaken from her night’s rest. She remained unconscious for the next three days before finally breathing her last.” Woodman’s voice filled with sadness, his eyes watering. “The pain I experienced that day will always remain strong. We all stood at her bedside, her parents, brothers and sisters, and myself. That day I vowed to always honor Meghan’s memory.”
“You have done so by sharing your story with me. I’m so sorry you lost her.”
“We have all suffered loss, although the only way to move forward is to remember those who have passed on, and not by their death, but by how they lived their lives.” Woodman swiped under his nose then dabbed the remaining suds with a cloth and washed the utensils in the basin. “You honor your father and brother’s memory by seeking to uncover their killer. They would be proud of you for doing so.”
“I shall see jus
tice served, however I can.” Which meant readying himself to ride out for the eastern docks and discover what had happened to Captain Lewiston. He removed his boots, shucked his clothes then pulled on the faded gray trousers and shirt laid on his bed. The linen was rough and abrasive against his skin, the neckcloth which might have been white years ago, was now a mottled yellow. He slipped his arms inside the gray jacket, one completely out of fashion then tugged on a pair of worn riding boots that must belong to one of his groomsman. He’d have to thank the men who’d offered him their clothing when he returned.
Dressed, he arched a brow at Woodman as his man walked in a slow circle around him. “Will I pass as a dockworker?”
“You shall, my lord, provided you mind how you speak.”
“A good point. I’ll take care.” He opened the top drawer of his oak dresser, removed his pistol and pocketed it.
A nod of approval from his man who gestured to his untouched breakfast tray.
“I wish I had an appetite.” Still, he needed the strength and nourishment the food would provide, so he wolfed down the bacon and eggs then taking the stairs two at a time, bounded through the foyer, his current mission set.
He had to find Captain Lewiston and the cabin boy, and he needed to find them without losing his own life. He’d never leave Sophia or his sister behind, not as his father and brother had left them.
Chapter 10
Sophia sat downstairs in Winterly’s study, directly behind his chunky oak desk, her brother having had an appointment in town and knowing he wouldn’t have minded if she’d borrowed some desk space, she’d commandeered his study and had now written a long and lovely letter to Harry. Everyone else in the house had already written their own letters earlier this morning, so she added hers to the pile of their correspondence and slipped each of the letters inside a canvas carry case for delivery.
“My lady, a letter has arrived for you, and one for his lordship too.” Jeeves, his dark mustache curled at the corners and his jacket buttoned, extended a silver tray to her with two letters upon it, her name scrawled across one and her brother’s name across the other.
“Thank you.” She accepted the letters, placed Winterly’s on his desk where he wouldn’t miss it, and passed Jeeves the carry case. “Please have these letters delivered to Captain Poole at the Horse Guards in Whitehall, with a request to hand them to Major Harry Trentbury.”
“I’ll have one of the footmen deliver it immediately.” A dip of the butler’s head and he strode from the room.
Settling back in her brother’s plush upholstered chair, the fire crackling in the hearth and spreading its warmth over her, she trailed her finger over her name written across her letter. A surge of butterflies took flight in her belly at seeing James’s precise hand. She’d never mistake it, not after reading his letter this morning in her chamber. She pressed the thick parchment to her heart and closed her eyes. This letter she’d get to keep, which brought her thoughts veering back to last night.
Oh my, so magical. She couldn’t wait to see him again, and even though he’d told her she wasn’t permitted to allow him entrance into her room, she’d never be able to turn him away should he tap at her window as he’d done last night.
Smiling, she broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
My sweet Sophia,
I wish this letter was of a brighter subject, but I’ve returned home this morning to an urgent matter which has arisen, and which I must see to immediately. The Fortune Maria has arrived in port and Captain Lewiston has gone missing, a cabin boy as well. I shall be riding to the Boar Head Tavern near the eastern docks to speak to the captain’s brother, Geoffrey Lewiston, who owns the establishment. Hopefully, I can uncover what’s happened and return with the captain and lad henceforth. Until my return, please know that I hold you close to my heart.
Yours always,
James.
Her heart clenched in on itself.
Goodness, this wasn’t good news at all.
Surely the captain wouldn’t have left his post without good reason?
Rising, she tucked James’s letter in the pocket of her dark blue skirts and paced her brother’s study. Beyond the forest-green drapes framing the wide window, murky gray clouds smeared the afternoon skies from horizon to horizon. Drizzle still fell, as it had earlier this morning when she’d kissed James farewell at the side door.
Fear and worry for him swarmed her middle.
She halted in front of her brother’s shelves housing all manner of reading material, including fine works written by the masters. Slotted on the top shelf were French, Spanish, and Italian tomes, along with a wide selection of poetry. The middle shelf held her brother’s favorite journals by the most prominent inventors of their time. She ran her finger along the spines of a few, then gasped as she tapped the final book along the shelf. A Minerva Press novel—Peculiar Warnings. She’d never noticed this book within their collection before, although Mama often swapped out reading material. One of Mama’s dear friends enjoyed reading the Minerva novels for their mystery and intrigue.
She tipped the book out of its slot and opened it.
Chapter One
Soon after the clay-cold body of Count Clement had been discovered in the library by his eldest son, Count Colbert, the deeply distressed son thrust tomes from the library shelves and grasped the one he sought which opened the secret cabinet his late father had used to deposit his papers of great consequence. The son scoured the hidden cabinet, his examination in earnest, and thankfully uncovered what he most ardently required. His younger brother would be overwhelmed with inexpressible grief when he learnt of their father’s demise, to the same devastating extent which now swallowed him whole, but these papers were of extreme importance, and he must ensure his brother received them. They proved, beyond a doubt, that their father’s death hadn’t come by natural means. No, and should he perish soon after his father, then his younger brother would know foul play was most assuredly afoot.
Hands shaking, she sank into one of the two forest-green corner padded chairs sitting either side of the lit fireplace. Had James’s father chosen this particular novel of horror to hide his drawing within for a reason? The first page certainly held shocking similarities to what had unfolded at Donnelly House. A father’s death, not by natural means. Two sons, both who would grieve greatly. Hidden papers of great consequence. Foul play afoot.
When she’d visited the old earl only the day before his death, he’d been seated before the latticed library window as he’d held a burgundy leather-bound ledger in hand. They’d sat together and he’d spoken of the Fortune Maria having sailed into port earlier than expected, that Captain Lewiston had brought in additional cargo from a sunken vessel, including a treasure chest. They’d spoken of his favorite books and philosophical essays, as well as Marco Polo’s book. He’d stood and crossed to the shelf of Minerva novels and tapped the spine of one slightly out of—oh my. Had that been a sign? That’s when Mr. Taylor had arrived to speak to him about the burgundy ledger he’d been perusing upon her arrival, and since she hadn’t wished to hold up his meeting with his man of affairs, she’d excused herself and returned to the drawing room where she’d joined Maria.
Her chest heaved, her heart beating sluggish and slow. She’d told James about speaking to his father in his library, but not of all the finer details surrounding that visit, that his father had tapped the Minerva novel and spoken to Mr. Taylor who’d arrived.
The foreseer had told Captain Bourbon she would need his assistance in a matter of the heart, that she would not be aware of all she knew, and that Bourbon would need to keep her close until all was unraveled. Throughout the days ahead, the captain was supposed to be her minder and to keep her safe. Of course James didn’t wish for her aid, but only because he worried about dragging her into his investigations, but he had no choice in that regard. She would do whatever was needed to help him.
She also trusted Captain Anteros Bourbon, and she needed to speak to hi
m about what she’d remembered. She settled once more at her brother’s desk and penned a precise note to Bourbon, informing him about Captain Lewiston going missing and James’s decision to ride to the eastern docks, to the Boar Head Tavern belonging to Geoffrey Lewiston. She gave him the address for the Frederick’s masked charity ball and asked him to meet her there, as soon as he could.
Once done, she called out to Jeeves and handed him her sealed letter. She asked him to have it delivered to The Cobra, Bourbon’s gaming hell near the docks, where he’d told her she could reach him. Once Jeeves had left, she stoppered the ink bottle and set the quill to one side, then with jittery fingers, paced the room. Would she be able to inform Anteros of what she’d remembered in time? So he might track down James and warn him?
“Sophia, there you are.” Olivia swished into the room, her gown for tonight’s masked charity ball a confection of peach colored silk and cream lace, her gown exposing her curves with its cinched bodice and flaring skirts “Why are you still closeted in Winterly’s study when you should be dressing for the ball?”
“Time has run away on me today. You look absolutely breathtaking.”
“Thank you, but I’m at an impasse with which mask to wear. Which one do you like best?” Olivia held two masks in her hands and lifted the first to her eyes then the second. “The silk and lace mask?” she asked. “Or the one with feathers?”
“Feathers, although with your golden locks you’ll still be unmistakable to those who know you, even with the mask donned. Don’t move.” She stepped past her sister, peeked out the door and once assured no one stood within the foyer, faced her sister once more. “I have something of great importance to tell you.”
“Oh my, this sounds intriguing.” Olivia stepped closer. “Do tell.”
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