The Earl's Bride

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “My father employed Taylor seven years ago, and I find it intolerable that he’s been stealing from my family all these years.” He removed her cap, set it beside him and smiled as her golden locks fell in soft waves around her face. He twined a lock around his finger, his strength fully enclosing her, his voice a husky murmur in her ear, “My lady, you have the most beautiful hair. It’s so glorious in color, as stunning as the rising sun on a crisp spring morning.”

  “That sounded rather poetic.” A side of James she quite liked.

  “I want to see your glorious locks spread across my pillow every night.” He touched his lips to her ear and discreetly ran his tongue along the whorls.

  “Ah, t-that could be arranged.” She gasped as something very large poked her in the bottom.

  “You’re willing to fill the position I’ve offered, of gracing my bed?” A spark in his hazel eyes, the color shifting from brown to a stunning green and oh my, how she’d missed seeing his eyes come so alive with such glorious color.

  “The position sounds very tempting, although there must be a catch.”

  “You’d have to promise me your obedience,” he added huskily.

  “Obedience is a tad boring.” She wriggled against him some more. “Stubbornness though…I can give you plenty of that.”

  A grimace as he reclined his head back against the coach seat.

  “Do I have your agreement?” She wriggled some more.

  “Sophia.” A definite growl as leaned forward and nipped her ear. “My lady, I am presently suffering. In both heaven and hell.”

  “We’ve arrived,” Bourbon stated.

  The coach slowed and she craned her head to check out the window. Indeed, they’d arrived.

  They drew up alongside another coach, the crest emblazoned upon it stating it belonged to the Duke of Ashten. She slid off Donnelly’s lap, which thankfully he allowed, while outside Ashten’s coach her brother-in-law stepped clear. With his cane in hand and navy tailcoats flapping, Ashten strode toward them with firm purpose.

  The duke opened the door and stepped inside. Sitting next to Donnelly, he removed his hat and cast one slow and assessing look at her. “Olivia arrived on my doorstep a few hours ago in a fit of worry. She and Ellie have been fearing for you ever since. Are you well, Sophia?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone with my sudden leaving, but I had no choice.” She’d apologize profusely to Olivia and Ellie when she next saw them. “Are Winterly and Mama aware of my leaving?”

  “No, thankfully not, although you’ll have a devil of a time explaining all of this to your sisters, who I might add, insisted on traveling with me and are right now ensconced in my coach.” He lobbed his gaze to Donnelly. “I thought it best to check here at your warehouse before continuing on to the eastern docks. Woodman said that’s where you’d gone. What exactly has happened?”

  Donnelly informed Ashten of Captain Lewiston’s theft of the chest, of the captain’s intention to set sail across the Atlantic and increase his wealth by means of pirating, and of their battle on board the captain’s recently acquired ship. He spoke of Geoffrey Lewiston’s involvement, then confirmed the demise of both brothers, and that they’d left Bourbon’s man, Giovani, behind to take care of matters. Lastly, he updated him on Mr. Taylor, that Lewiston had confirmed his man of affairs had been pilfering cargo and squandering his family’s money for years. Hands braced on his knees, James snarled, anger thrumming from him. “Ashten, I’m after a confession from Taylor, then I will ensure he pays for his crimes once I have the evidence I need for a conviction.”

  “He deserves death.”

  “Agreed, or to rot in Newgate, with no hope of ever seeing the light of day again. Either option suits me.” James grasped her hand and gently rubbed it between his fingers. “I apologize that this conversation is improper for you to hear.”

  “I need to hear it.” Through good times and bad, she would stand by him.

  “Taylor will be dealt with right now.” A firm promise as he kissed her hand.

  “We have visitors,” Bourbon interrupted as he opened the door. “Wills approaches. Another lad too.”

  Indeed, two lads approached, both in breeches and dusty jerseys. They bounded in, grave looks in both their eyes.

  “Speak, Wills,” Bourbon ordered the boy with a mop of brown hair and soot smeared across one cheek.

  “This is Paddy,” Wills said with a wave of his grimy hand at the other boy.

  “You’re the cabin boy from the Fortune Maria?” Donnelly asked, and the lad named Paddy nodded. “Inform us of all you know.”

  “Milord, the first mate of the Fortune Maria asked me to find Captain Lewiston and I did, at the Boar Head Tavern. I snuck in through the back door near the kitchens and overheard the captain speaking to his brother. Geoffrey, his name was.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “The owner said he had a buyer for his tavern, someone named Blackburne. The captain told his brother they’d be sailin’ on the high tide, and to gather as many men as he could. I could tell Captain Lewiston was up to no good, but I wasn’t sure who I could trust, so instead of going back to the first mate, I left and came straight here to find ye. Snuck a ride on a cart, I did, then asked Mr. Taylor if I could wait for ye in yer office. He asked me what I needed to see ye about, and I told him what I’d uncovered. He got mighty angry and backhanded me. When I woke up, I found myself in the basement of the warehouse.” He gestured a shaking hand at Wills. “He got me out.”

  Wills cleared his throat. “Taylor is upstairs in the office where ye all spoke the other day. He’s making a terrible racket, and he’s got a pistol. I spied him with it.”

  “You two have both done very well.” Donnelly glanced between the two boys. “These are your new orders. You’re both to stay right here while we confront Taylor. You’re to remain out of harm’s way. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” Firm agreement and nods from the two lads.

  “Good.” Donnelly stepped down from the coach and held out his hand to her. “You’re to wait with your sisters in Ashten’s coach.”

  She didn’t argue, but accepted his hand and once he steered her across to Ashten’s conveyance and aided her inside, she got smothered by both her sisters and a dozen demanding questions.

  Oh dear, she had a lot of explaining to do.

  Chapter 15

  Donnelly marched with Ashten and Bourbon along the docks toward his main warehouse that housed the offices, Sawyer having remained with the ladies to keep a guard. Vessels from Spain, Portugal, and Sicily were docked alongside English ships, the waters of the River Thames rippling as the new day began, a day when justice for his loved ones would finally be granted. He’d ensure it. Marching along, he strode past a cart overloaded with goods and a clerk with papers in hand, while a shout rang out as a driver rumbled along the cobbled street across from them.

  Ashten pulled a pistol from his pocket, a murderous expression on his face, and Bourbon did the same, sliding his pistol free and stroking the barrel.

  “I want a confession from him.” He stayed Ashten and Bourbon’s hands. “Although killers can get desperate, so by all means, remain on the alert.”

  With his own pistol in hand, he bounded up the warehouse stairs two at a time, shoved open the door of the main office and entered pitch blackness. Not even a spillage of light trickled through the window, the curtains pulled shut.

  A click echoed. Sparks flared from a flintlock and—boom.

  Donnelly dropped to the floor and rolled toward the wooden filing cabinet.

  Boom, boom. A second and third shot blasted.

  Smoke curled into the air from Ashten and Bourbon’s pistols. Taylor grasped his belly, his weapon clattering to the floor.

  “Sh-shot.” Taylor tore the curtain from the rail as he floundered, his eyes rolling as blood poured from the two gaping wounds where his friends’ shots had hit their mark.

  He pocketed his pisto
l, which he hadn’t yet fired, and caught Taylor as he crumpled. “Damn you. Why did you do it? Tell me, Taylor!”

  “Your father knew about my squandering. He confronted me about his suspicions.” A wheeze. “A-arsenic. I laced your father’s brandy decanter. In his library following our meeting. He mustn’t have drunken any until the next day. He came to the office sick and—he collapsed right here.” A tap on the floor with his bloodied boot.

  “What about my brother?” He wanted to put a shot in the man himself, but he forced himself to wait. To listen.

  “S-same way. I added arsenic to his c-coffee when he came to look over the ledgers in the filing cabinet. I couldn’t hide my thievery anymore.” Blood trickled from his mouth, his head lolling. “Sh-should have disposed of their bodies another way, but I couldn’t think c-clearly. Dumped them both in the river.”

  He choked, coughed, blood splattering everywhere. Taylor’s eyes slid shut and he slumped in his arms.

  Donnelly dumped his body at his feet and wiped his hands clean of the man.

  Bourbon hauled the torn curtain over Taylor and muttered under his breath, “Well, at least you got your confession.”

  “Yes, and for that I’m most grateful.” He stroked his pocketed pistol, wishing he could fire it at the dead man.

  Ashten poked a finger into the hole now gracing the office wall, right where Donnelly’s head would have been if he’d not dropped so fast. “I don’t believe we should speak of this near miss with the ladies,” Ashten stated, quite firmly. “My wife is in a gentle state, expecting our first child.”

  “Agreed, and you have my congratulations.” Donnelly clapped Ashten’s shoulder, glad for the bright news in the middle of all the death and destruction. He turned and strode to the desk, his breath catching at the sight of a black leather-bound ledger. He’d never seen it before. Taylor had only ever presented him with burgundy leather-bound ledgers. He snagged it, then opened it under the light now streaming in through the window.

  Taylor’s notes were messy, several lines and amounts crossed out, along with notations on profits made on unrecorded sales. He thumbed through the entire ledger, every page the same. He’d clearly found the physical evidence he needed to prove Taylor’s pilfering of his cargo.

  He bowed his head.

  His father and brother could now rest in peace, their killer no longer at large, and Taylor could never take the life of another of his loved ones.

  Along with his friends, he’d ensured justice had been served.

  Peace settled in his heart.

  Chapter 16

  Tightening the belt of her dressing robe, Sophia paced her bedchamber that evening. She clearly had little hope of seeing Donnelly again today, not now the hour was so exceedingly late. This morning, after he’d returned to the carriage with Ashten and Bourbon, the three men had informed them about Mr. Taylor’s demise, although not the specific details. They hadn’t wished to upset them.

  It had been agreed that Ashten would see her and her sisters home, that he’d then speak to Winterly and Mama now the danger had passed and assure them all was well. Donnelly, meanwhile, had chosen to remain behind so he could converse with the Bow Street runner they’d sent for, and to liaise with the magistrate who would no doubt arrive soon, while Bourbon had taken his carriage to the eastern docks to join Giovani in uncovering what he could on board Lewiston’s vessel.

  Thankfully, Winterly hadn’t questioned her any further on her involvement, and neither had Mama. They’d both accepted Ashten’s word that everyone involved had now paid for their crimes, then hugged her tightly, their love washing over her.

  “The night has turned quite cool. I’ll have you warm in a moment, my lady.” Abby stoked the fire.

  A knock rattled the door and her maid dusted her hands on her white aproned skirts and opened it. She gestured the servants in. A maid entered with a tray and set it on her side table, while behind her two barefoot lads—the cook’s sons—their brown breeches smeared with soot and their pale hair tousled, heaved a tub in and set it before the hearth. Along with her maid, they all left to fetch the water.

  She seated herself, forked the salmon and took a bite. She usually adored salmon, but with her worry over Donnelly still strong, she couldn’t taste it. Instead, she sipped her steaming tea and wished with all her heart that Donnelly was here, his arms wrapped around her.

  At another knock, her maid returned along with the lads, each carrying steaming pails of water. They filled the tub and heat wafted through her chamber. Abby laid a bar of soap and a drying cloth beside her bath, then dipped her head and shut the door after her and the lads.

  Hopefully a bath would relax her, allowing her to sleep for the night. She bolted the door and leaned back against the dark-grained wood. Burning logs crackled in the hearth, the light of the flames dancing across her red-gold bedcovers and the matching drapes pulled across her window.

  She removed her robe and laid it over the chair closest to the tub then crouching, tested the water with a swirl of her fingers. Perfect.

  Into the tub, she stepped then sank down, the water gloriously warm as it washed over her. She dunked her head, staying under a little too long before surfacing with a gasp for breath.

  “Good evening, my sweet.”

  She splashed water over the rim, hands slapping across her breasts. Donnelly stood inside her room, her drapes swaying and a whistle of cool air streaming through her now open window. “What are you doing here?”

  “I realize the hour is incredibly late, that I shouldn’t be visiting you in your bedchamber or while you are bathing, but you left your window unlatched and I couldn’t help myself. I scaled the side of your house and snuck in. I assure you, no one saw me.”

  He closed her window, pulled the drapes shut and leaning one shoulder against the end of her four-poster bed, smiled rather charmingly. He’d changed clothes and now wore a sinfully dark pair of breeches and jacket, his cravat knotted and hair damp as if he’d recently bathed before coming to her.

  “How did everything go?” She folded one leg primly over the other.

  “All the evidence has been placed before the magistrate, including Taylor’s admittance of murder and one very damning ledger that lists all of his swindling.”

  “What of Bourbon and Giovani? How did they fare at the eastern docks?”

  “They found no sign of the chest, not on board the ship or at the tavern which now belongs to Blackburne, although Bourbon won’t rest until he uncovers everything that was stolen from within it, no matter how long that might take, or what must be done. Bourbon and the magistrate also spoke to Blackburne at his solicitor’s office. Another search was made of that premises, with nothing new uncovered. It appears Blackburne purchased the tavern with his own coin and had the legal paperwork on hand to prove his claim, and although we’re not exactly certain of how deep Blackburne’s involvement is in the scheme of things, we do know that he purchased the jade mask. Never fear though, Bourbon will keep a close eye on him.”

  “Thankfully, you’ve brought fairly good news.”

  “Yes, but hopefully the best news is still to come.” He stalked closer, went down on one knee beside her, plucked her hands from her breasts and softly kissed her palms. “News of an impending elopement is what I speak of, and your agreement to run away with me, before this night is done.” Another kiss, this time on her lips. “Lady Sophia Trentbury, I would be honored if you’d agree to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  “Oh my, I should warn you, that I can be a little willful.”

  “I would have you no other way.”

  “I also have a terrible habit of getting into trouble.”

  “We’ll both work on keeping you out of trouble.”

  “Then yes.” She grinned. “I would love to be your wife.” Her heart overflowed with love, this moment one she’d been longing for. “You might need to pinch me, for I fear I’m dreaming.”

  “Pinching underway.” He stroked the peb
bled tips of her breasts, her nipples hardening, then smiling wickedly, he pinched them both. “I wish to bathe with you.” A soft murmur.

  “You appear as if you’ve already bathed.”

  “Two baths are better than one.”

  “I’m not sure there’s any room in my tub for two.”

  “I’ll find room, my willful love.” Chuckling, he unlaced his boots and kicked them free before removing his black jacket and unknotting his cravat. He tossed his clothing onto the corner armchair, unbuttoned his shirt and standing before her in his breeches, flexed his muscles, his chest and biceps rippling in the dancing firelight.

  “This will be a new experience. I’ve never bathed with a man before.” Squirming back, she made more room for him.

  “I should hope you haven’t. I also intend on making this the most delicious bath you’ve ever experienced, with the promise of many more delicious baths to come.” He gripped the waistband of his breeches where a tease of dark hair, the same color as his head, narrowed down his rigid belly and disappeared below the waistline.

  She licked her lips and waited. “You are taking far too long to undress.”

  “Yes, I quite possibly am.” He shoved his breeches down and exposed his thickly muscled thighs and an appendage that fully saluted her and marked him as a very virile man.

  She stared at him, his cock growing even thicker and longer under her observant eye.

  Stepping in, he sloshed the water and eased down. His gaze smoldered as he nabbed the soap and lathered it. Bubbles foamed everywhere, coating the surface of the water. “Say yes,” he murmured.

  “What am I saying yes to?”

  “My touch, which will be everywhere that might please you.”

  “Yes, most definitely yes.”

  “You’re sounding rather biddable.” He lifted one of her feet onto his shoulder.

  “I shall endeavor to learn how to curtail my willfulness.”

  “Willfulness has its benefits, as you’ve now taught me.” He stroked over her calf, teased across the sensitive skin behind her knee then smoothed along her inner thigh before pushing one finger deep inside her channel.