A Gentleman ’Til Midnight

by Alison Delaine

  “Understood.” Cantwell had no cause for concern. It was either this or lose Taggart to Holliswell, and Nick wasn’t going to risk letting the answer to all his problems slip from his grasp. He would marry Lady India the moment he found her.

  “And in the meantime,” Cantwell went on, “I shall speak with Mr. Holliswell.” Cantwell smiled. “You won’t need to concern yourself there.”

  Nick might have smiled, too, under other circumstances. Already his thoughts hurtled forward. He was engaged to be married, after all—this time, to save himself.

  * * *

  THE HASTY WEDDING and hurried coach ride hardly left time to think. At the same time, there’d been too much time to think, staring for hours and hours at the passing countryside, unable to speak of important matters in front of Anne and Miss Bunsby.

  Married. To the man who had sunk the Merry Sea.

  Now Katherine stood in her new apartment in James’s London house, feeling as if she’d been tossed for days by high seas.

  Married. To Captain Warre.

  A warm feeling snuck through her—the same warm feeling she’d allowed herself to sample each time she’d looked at him in the coach. Each night at the inns where they stayed, when she watched him climb into bed with her. Each morning when she woke to find herself in his arms.

  Every moment she expected to realize she’d made an enormous, irreversible mistake. But then he would look at her with those green eyes full of satisfaction, on fire for the woman she was, with no trace of the pity she feared. And a little more of her resistance would slough away, leaving behind something new and hopeful and alive.

  He strode into her room now, all outrage. “Good God—I’ll dismiss every last one of them!” A maid scurried out, and she watched him bolt the bedroom door against the savage hordes masquerading as footmen bringing in their trunks.

  “Would you rather the trunks had stayed on the coach?” she asked.

  “I would rather not have to think of trunks at all,” he said darkly, coming toward her. “Or footmen. Or—” he waved the letter Bates had given them on their arrival “—emergencies at Croston. I would much prefer to think exclusively—”

  “Wait, what are you— Put me down!”

  “—of you.” He carried her to the bed and pinned her to it with his weight. “Very well. I shall happily keep you down for as long as you like.” He bent his head for a searing kiss, and she drank it in hungrily.

  This was no captivity.

  That warm feeling worked its magic again, and she suppressed a bubble of laughter. The Lords would hardly attaint her now.

  “It’s late,” he said, resting his forehead on hers, “but I’m determined to see Nick tonight, and a few others, as well.”

  “We probably have ten minutes at the most before your sister learns we’re in London and calls round,” Katherine said.

  “That long? Really? I’d say five, more like, and that’s if your friend the Dowager Lady Pennington doesn’t learn of it first.” He raised a wicked brow. “One can accomplish much in five minutes.”

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “I could say the same of you.” He tugged on her lower lip with his teeth and kissed her again.

  There was a knock. “Bates,” he muttered, rolling off her and stalking to the door. He cracked it open with a terse suggestion for Bates’s permanent holiday destination, and she heard poor Bates announce that Honoria was waiting in the salon.

  James glanced over his shoulder at Katherine. “Six minutes. She’s losing her touch.” And then, to Bates, “Tell my sister we’re not receiving.”

  He closed the door in Bates’s face, but before he’d crossed the room there was another knock.

  “That’ll be Honoria herself,” Katherine said, smiling at the expression on his face.

  James wrenched the door open. “The Dowager Lady Pennington was just admitted below,” Bates apprised them.

  “Tell them both we’re not receiving.”

  “James—” Katherine started.

  “I mean it. I do not wish to be disturbed,” he told Bates, and shut the door again.

  “Refusing them now will only put off the inevitable,” Katherine pointed out, and sat up. “I should go satisfy their curiosity. And you’re going out anyhow.”

  “Their curiosity can wait,” he said sharply, and a firm hand came down on her shoulder. For a moment she thought he might actually order her to stay, and all her defenses flared to life. Instead, he kissed her. A devilish curve tugged his lips when he pulled back, and he hooked a finger inside her stays to peek into her cleavage. “Mine can’t.”

  That warm feeling sizzled, and she hooked a finger inside the top of his breeches. “Then let them wait.”

  She let him push her back onto the bed and stoke that feeling into a blazing fire.

  * * *

  “YOU’VE MADE A deal with Cantwell?” It was enough to make James forget—but only for a moment—that his entire marriage was on the brink of crashing down around him. He stared at Nick in disbelief through the coffeehouse’s smoky haze.

  “A damned profitable one, too. I only hope the girl isn’t such a terror that the money pales in comparison. Even Cantwell admits she’s a bloody harridan. And after two years at sea, there’s little chance her virtue is intact.” Nick’s lip curled in mirthless appreciation. “Could be an enjoyable benefit, though.”

  James looked at him sharply. “I have it on good authority that her virtue is intact. So have a care.”

  “Good God.” Nick took a long drink. “That makes it worse.”

  James smiled a little. “India isn’t such a bad girl.”

  “She ran away on a ship. Twice.”

  “I didn’t say she wouldn’t be time-consuming.”

  Nick cursed. “I’ll be leaving England as soon as I plan my strategy for finding Lady India and organize passage. But if you’d like me to go to Croston first and take care of things, I will.”

  “No need,” James said. “I want Katherine and Anne to see the place.” The tenant issue at Croston could not have been timed more perfectly. He could whisk Katherine away from London first thing in the morning and buy himself more time to figure out how to tell her about the vote.

  If he hadn’t succeeded in keeping her away from Honoria and Philomena earlier, there was no doubt she would have learned the truth from them. He’d be damned if he would allow that to happen. Fortunately for him, Honoria and Philomena cared for nothing if not romance, and they would not return tonight if they thought he and Katherine were occupied in bed.

  “As far as passage, though, you ought to know that William Jaxbury is in Edinburgh outfitting a ship to chase after the Possession. It’s the ship he’s after, not the women—but that makes no difference for you. Your simplest chance may be to join forces with him.”

  Nick cursed again. “I’d thought to travel through France.”

  “Easier to scour the ports if you’ve got a ship.” Unfortunately, Nick had fallen prey to seasickness his entire life. “Jaxbury will make a seaman out of you in no time.”

  Nick made a noise. “My one earthly desire.”

  “Are you certain it’s worth it?”

  Nick just looked at him.

  “For God’s sake, Nick, you don’t have to do this.” James didn’t need to explain. Nick knew exactly what he meant, and reacted exactly as James expected he would.

  “I won’t take your money.” Nick’s eyes were so cold that James felt a little sorry for India. “Honoria tells me congratulations are in order,” he said now.

  “The king ought to put her to the task of improving overseas communication times,” James said irritably. “I’ve no doubt she could do it.”

  “You wish it to remain a secret?”

  James rubbed his finger
back and forth on the table, then looked at Nick. “I’ve done something unforgivable, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  Nick frowned. “What have you done?”

  James sat back and exhaled. “Katherine doesn’t know about the committee vote.”

  Nick stared at him, not comprehending.

  “Because I didn’t tell her,” James clarified.

  Nick’s brows shot up. “You didn’t tell her? But the committee voted before you— Good God.” Another long stare, while the implications settled in. “So she thinks she’s married you out of necessity.”

  James tightened his lips. For the millionth time he rechoreographed that day in Dunscore. This time, instead of going to Lord Deal, he’d gone to find Katherine and told her everything.

  But if he had, he’d be alone now.

  “And I fancied myself a fool with Clarissa,” Nick said, shaking his head. “You’ll have a hell of a time hiding it now. Too many people know what happened and when.” He reached for his coffee. “Can’t you simply grovel and tell her you love her?”

  “She’ll hardly believe it now.”

  “More likely she’ll skewer your testicles with that cutlass of hers and hang ’em from her mainmast as she sails back where she came from.”

  And wasn’t that the truth.

  “But if there’s anything I can do,” Nick added.

  James shook his head. “I have to tell her. If she doesn’t hear it from me, she’ll hear it from someone else. And I definitely don’t want to face the result if that happens.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  NEARLY AN HOUR after James left, Katherine was on her way downstairs when someone called at the door. It would be Honoria and Phil, of course, returning to learn every last detail.

  Instead, Bates admitted the Duke of Winston.

  “May I offer my congratulations,” he said as Katherine descended the stairs. “It would seem London’s most ravishing pirate has finally been captured.”

  She surveyed his rakish black hair, his burgundy coat embroidered with a gold-and-black geometric pattern, and the sword that hung at his side. “I prefer to think of myself as having made a strategic defensive move,” she told him.

  He glanced at her hip as she joined him in the entrance hall. “At least reassure me you are unarmed this evening?”

  She raised her brows and curved her lips a little.

  “Very well.” He grinned. “I shall be on my best behavior.”

  “And instead of your congratulations,” she added meaningfully, “I would prefer your apologies.”

  He laughed. “Very well. You may have those, as well. And if there is ever a way I can make it up to you, you have only to name it. I confess to being on the blackguard side of things when it comes to beautiful women—and you are spectacularly beautiful, Lady Dunscore.” His eyes flashed wickedly. “Forgive me. Lady Croston. Would seem Croston’s a bit on the blackguard side of things, too. Should have suspected he fancied you for himself, for all he kept trying to fob you off on everyone else.”

  Fob her off?

  “Never would have suited with any of them, I daresay. Although, if you should ever grow tired of Croston and care to, shall we say, expand your horizons...”

  “I shall certainly keep you in mind,” she said.

  “Excellent. I need a few words with Croston. Is he at home?”

  “No. He’s gone out.”

  “And left you here alone? The man must have lost his mind.” Wicked thoughts sparkled like dark jewels in his eyes.

  “Either that, or he wishes to make sure the committee is in no doubt as to our marriage.”

  His brows flicked downward, but he smiled. “Rest assured, the committee was quite adamant in its decision. And for the record, I voted in your favor.”

  Voted? In her favor? Her mind scrambled to make sense of what he said. “I am flattered, Your Grace,” she managed. “The committee has made a decision already?”

  He cocked his head. “Surely you knew.”

  Her blood ran cold. “News is sometimes slow in traveling to Dunscore, and I was only there a few days.” Her mind reeled. “You’re saying the committee reported in my favor.”

  Something like alarm lit his eyes. “I would hate to rob Croston of the pleasure of telling you himself,” the duke said smoothly.

  “When was the decision made?” she demanded.

  He held up a hand. “Please—Croston will have my head if I discuss this with you further.”

  “When was the decision made?”

  “If you’ll excuse me, that light in your eye makes me damned nervous.” He bowed hastily. “Good evening—a pleasure, as always.”

  * * *

  LONG AFTER SHE and Miss Bunsby had put Anne to bed, Katherine waited in the library at James’s desk. She sat in near darkness in the giant leather armchair that had been crafted for comfortable arrogance. The only light came from a fire that had burned low but still cracked and flickered. She smoothed her hands across an expanse of mahogany that screamed of power. Command.

  Her own power and command lay buried beneath a heart that ached so badly she could hardly breathe.

  That night on the ramparts, she’d told him things she’d never thought she would tell anyone. Things she hadn’t even told William because he, with the brutal captivity he had suffered, would not understand.

  James did not understand, either. She’d been thinking perhaps that was all right. That perhaps it had been unfair of her to ask him to try.

  No, not unfair.

  Unfair was James lying to her. Taking advantage of her ignorance after she’d given herself to him so completely.

  A footman carrying a note to her solicitor had quickly confirmed the date of the committee’s decision. Bates had claimed not to remember when James had left for Dunscore, but one of the stable boys had proved less forgetful.

  James had known. He’d bloody known what it meant to her, and he’d still tricked her into marriage.

  She brought her hand down hard on the desk, relishing the sting. James may have thought himself powerful, but starting tonight the power in this marriage belonged to her. What she had given James of herself she would take back.

  An hour passed—perhaps more—before she heard him talking to Bates in the entry. She tensed. Her throat constricted so tightly only the thinnest ribbon of air could pass. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel its beat in her legs.

  When he came through the library door, he didn’t see her at first because he was reading something in his hand. The urge to go to him rose up, but she squashed it. He was almost to the desk when he glanced up. When he saw her, he stopped.

  She leaned back in the chair with her palms flat on the desk. “Good evening, Captain.”

  “Likewise.” He paused. “Captain.” The look in his eyes changed from pleasure at the sight of her to the guarded calculation that had marked the first weeks of their acquaintance.

  A ferocious urge to forget everything welled up inside her. Whatever he might have done, they were still married. She could let it go.

  Except he’d taken her independence, her birthright, and now she could not get them back.

  “How were your visits?” she asked. “Is everything finished?”

  He tossed the sheaf of papers in his hand onto the desk and stood opposite her. “I suppose you could say that.”

  She stared at him silently across the mahogany expanse, partly to see what else he would offer without her prompting, and partly because her throat was too tight to speak.

  “Katherine—”

  “I suppose I could say that, couldn’t I,” she interrupted, suddenly not wanting to give him an opportunity for more lies. “Especially given that the committee had already decided not to attaint me when you le
ft for Dunscore.”

  There was a barely perceptible change in his eyes, and her belly dropped. “I see Honoria and Phil returned, after all,” he said darkly.

  I didn’t know. I hadn’t heard. That was what he was supposed to say. Heaven help her, she wished it were true so badly she would almost be willing to accept a lie. Thank God—thank God—she hadn’t told him she loved him.

  She stood up suddenly. “Bastard,” she spat. Damn him— No I’m sorry, no Let me explain. Just I see Honoria and Phil returned, after all. “This was why you sent them away. And then you made love to me in order to cover up your lie.”

  He leveled those green eyes at her. “That isn’t true.”

  “I should kill you right here.” She came around the desk and drew her cutlass, so enraged that her vision hazed over.

  He didn’t move.

  “Draw, damn you!”

  “I won’t draw on you, Katherine.”

  “Why not?” she demanded, and saw the truth in his eyes. “You do pity me. Even now.” It wasn’t to be borne. “Draw!”

  He just stood there, watching her.

  She raised her blade to his neck. “I should slit your throat for what you’ve done.”

  “When I left London for Dunscore, I had every intention of telling you about the vote.”

  She stared at him and wondered how her heart could keep beating when it hurt so much.

  “I’d planned to tell you, Katherine. But when I saw you—”

  “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.”

  “I don’t expect you to believe me.”

  “After all this talk of helping me, of winning over the committee— God. After all that talk of guilt—”

  “Do not tell me how I feel.” He pointed at her, heedless of the blade.

  “Dunscore could have been mine. It was mine. And you stole it!”