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Cloaked in Danger

Page 10

by Jeannie Ruesch


  “I can’t imagine your father would want you putting yourself in danger,” Adam’s mother added softly.

  “He wouldn’t want me to give up.” Aria’s words were painful, choked by shards of anger that made it difficult to speak.

  Adam approached, then crouched in front of her. “Aria, look what your choices have already wrought. We’re betrothed.”

  “For which I offer my everlasting regret,” she snapped. “I am sorry you are forced to this. You don’t even like me. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

  Adam sighed. “If that were true, it would have made this entire situation so much easier.” Before she could question that statement, he continued. “Give me the names left on your list. Though I question this entire thing, we’ll look into them.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Really? In your infinite wisdom, you’ve ruined your reputation. Without our betrothal and without my interference, you will never have access to these men again.”

  And that thought sat like a slime-covered rock in her stomach. “Fine. I have six left.” She gave him the names of the remaining men.

  He nodded. “I am acquainted with them. And I will determine their whereabouts in March, but you are not to be involved in this anymore.”

  “If you think I shall sit and embroider something and wait patiently, you are sorely mistaken.”

  He grabbed her hands. His fingers wrapped around hers, infusing them with his heat. “I will find out if these men are involved. I will also send an investigator to where your father was last seen, to look for anything that might prove helpful there. But I need to trust you are not going to put yourself in further jeopardy, otherwise I’ll feel the need to tag along behind you everywhere you go.”

  She was so unused to sharing the mantle of responsibility. What if he didn’t care enough? What if he failed?

  But she’d already failed, she realized. And without him, she had nothing to work with.

  “I have a condition,” she reluctantly agreed.

  “Which is?”

  As much as she enjoyed their physical attraction, she couldn’t see marrying him when this was done. Living this life. Ever being accepted into his world.

  “I don’t want anyone to know of our betrothal.”

  “No.”

  “I am not a title hunter.”

  “And yet you’ve captured the title,” Adam said, a little cruelly. “But I went along willingly.”

  “Willingly?” She stood. “I followed you home. And I will not trap you. I don’t need this life. Once my father is found, then...” She stopped, suddenly unsure. Her father had planned to stay. So what did that mean for her?

  But how could she agree to marry Adam when every part of her screamed to leave?

  She glanced at his mother or Blythe, certain she would see displeasure. Disgust. Instead, she saw strength. Kindness. “He shouldn’t be expected to give up his entire life because of my choices.”

  Adam grasped her hand and tugged her around to face him. “When you arrived, I could have walked inside and closed the door. I didn’t. I didn’t have to take you up to my bedroom, but I did.”

  “That was so we wouldn’t—”

  He placed a finger over her mouth. “I chose. You didn’t force me.” His fingers joined together and he gave her cheek a quick caress that sent bolts of heat through her. “I have a responsibility to you now.”

  Aria winced. She didn’t want him to see her as just a responsibility.

  That was confusing and unsettling all at the same time.

  She looked at Blythe. “You must hate me.”

  “I understand how fear can make someone react, and you’ve been trying to find your father.” A smile curved her lips as she looked at her brother. “In fact, I was attempting a bit of my own matchmaking between you two. Apparently I needn’t have bothered.”

  By all rights, Adam should despise her for what she’d done. His family should be equally disgusted.

  She had no idea how to respond to their kindness.

  “So are we in accordance now?” Adam’s mother asked. “We can announce the betrothal immediately and post the first banns this Sunday. I believe that will put us in fine standing. If neither of you object, we can schedule the wedding after Blythe and Michael’s wedding at the end of the month. Adam will settle details with your family tomorrow, and I believe the next day, we shall come over for a nice long visit.”

  Aria felt herself nodding. What had she agreed to? A wedding? In a month. That gave her precious little time to find her father, because the idea of marrying without him present...she refused to consider it.

  “We will find him,” Adam said, as if he could read her thoughts.

  Moments later, Aria stood on the quiet street with Adam in front of her carriage. As far as she could tell, not a soul was about. What if all this had been for naught? If no one had seen them?

  He opened the door for her and she turned to step inside, only to be caught by his hand on her arm.

  He leaned forward to capture her lips in a firm, warm kiss. In seconds, the tension in her shoulders drained away and she was aware of nothing but the urge she had to lean in closer, to be wrapped inside of his arms.

  “You were wrong about one thing,” he said as he pulled away.

  “What is that?”

  “I have been drawn to you from the minute I saw you. I just didn’t wish to be.”

  “Irresistible, am I?”

  “More than you know.”

  With that, he gave her a gentle nudge into the carriage and quickly closed the door. As the wheels began to move, and the seat beneath her bounced, Aria pressed a hand to her lips.

  He liked her.

  Chapter Ten

  Early the next morning, after pitiful few hours of sleep, Aria walked into the family dining room. The sun streamed in through the gauzy curtains, and the sideboard was filled with food. An ordinary morning. Everything in its place.

  Shouldn’t the walls be painted green, the tables upside down? Something that indicated life was suddenly anything but normal?

  “Good morning,” she said to Emily, who was already sitting, eating from a piled-high plate.

  Emily’s hand stopped midway to her mouth, a spoon full of eggs precariously balanced.

  “What?” Aria froze mid-stride.

  She took the bite and studied Aria as she chewed. “You look well-rested.”

  Aria continued to the sideboard. “I do?”

  “Possibly even as if you hadn’t spent all hours of the night out.”

  Suddenly ravenous, Aria filled her plate and slid into a chair. She shoved a piece of a scone into her mouth, then pointed to give a reason that she couldn’t speak.

  Emily’s fork clattered to the table. “Where were you? I was worried sick!” She dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “You said you were going to stay at the party for two hours, Aria. Two hours. I waited up as long as I could and woke up sometime this morning to find you still were not home.”

  Aria took another bite. “I was detained, I am sorry.”

  “Detained?” Emily echoed. “You worried me half to death. Gideon is gone. John is near death. I cannot afford to be worried about you as well!”

  Aria snapped her gaze to Emily’s, realizing suddenly that Emily was pale as a sheet. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “How could I not be worried? What you’re doing is dangerous. Whoever did this to Gideon, they do not object to hurting people. Gideon would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, too. I can’t take any more loss!” Her tears spilled in dainty drops. “You are all that is left of this family. You have to stop.”

  Aria put down the scone. “How can you ask that, when we have no
idea what’s happened? How am I supposed to let that go?”

  “Oh, Aria,” Emily said softly. “It is likely too late already.”

  “No!” She shoved her chair back from the table. “I won’t let you give up.”

  “Aria, you need to—”

  “You need to stop thinking that way. He’s alive, I know he is. John even said he believed it possible.”

  “John is dying, Aria.”

  The words hit like a wall of ice water. “He’s getting his strength back,” she managed through the massive lump in her throat. Without another word, she fled from the room. She took the stairs two at a time, even as she heard Emily calling to her, and continued on until she stood at John’s door. Sucking in quick shots of air, she forced herself to calm down before turning the knob slowly and entering.

  The room was sunny and bright, the curtains and window thrown open to let in both the morning sun and the cool air. A maid moved quietly about the room, tidying up.

  John crooked an eye open and peered at Aria like a pirate. “Ahoy, matey,” he said, his gruff voice a mixture of the familiar coarseness she loved and a fatigue she didn’t.

  “Ahoy, there, Captain,” she replied. On her seventh birthday, they’d been at sea, on a voyage to somewhere she couldn’t recall now. Her mother had passed and her father hadn’t been able to deal with his own grief. Her birthday had come with her father none the wiser, but John hadn’t forgotten. He’d spent the entire day with her, playing pirates. He’d threatened to make her walk the plank unless she walked funny.

  He’d made her laugh so much, her first birthday without her mother hadn’t been quite so unbearable.

  “How are you feeling?” She made her way to the chair by the side of his bed. It didn’t feel right that he had no idea how her life had turned upside down. She wanted that sense of togetherness, of oneness she’d had with him and her father her entire life.

  Instead the life she loved was slipping from her fingers like a fistful of sand. One grain at a time.

  He offered her a gruff smile. “Been better.”

  “What does that mean, old man?” She smoothed her skirts out, picked at an invisible thread.

  “Ye know what it means.”

  She fairly choked on the tears she refused to shed. “Pirates don’t give up. You’ll get your strength back. You will. And then you and my father will—”

  “Aria, there are things we need to discuss.”

  She shook her head. “There will be plenty of time for talk later.”

  He lifted his arm and dropped a meaty hand on top of hers. “Listen to me now, girl. There was never a time yer Pa and me thought you’d be without us both, but we planned for it in case.” He squeezed her hands. “The missus needs you now, Aria. Mr. Gideon would want you to take care of them.”

  “And I will take care of them by finding Papa. By finding the man responsible for this.”

  He moved his head side to side on the pillow. “There are accounts here in England. Your father always kept his money in two accounts: the Bank of England and another with a banker out of Greece, since we traveled so often. His solicitor has all the details. Benjamin Corey. You’ll find his direction in a folder of—”

  “Stop it,” she commanded. “Stop talking this way.”

  “You’ve got more money than most of the damn upper crust combined, Aria. You and Emily and the babe. You’ll need to be protected. You’ll need to be prepared.”

  “But I will be protected. By Papa. You.”

  “Get your head out of the damn clouds, girl!” He erupted into a fit of coughs. “There are investments. Properties. It will belong to you and to Emily’s child. Corey has instructions on what to do in case of death.”

  “My father is not dead.” She pulled her hand from his grasp.

  “It’s been three months, Ariadne.” He sighed. “If Gideon were alive and able, he would have gotten word or come home. He hasn’t. Ye know it as well as me. I don’t know what did happen, but I know he’s gone.” John offered her a look akin to pity before his gaze slid sideways toward the door. Aria glanced back, saw Emily standing in the doorway, her face stained with tears.

  “He is right.” Emily covered her belly with her arms. “We have to accept it.”

  The air grew heavy around her, pressing in from all sides. Her breathing grew short. She reached up, put a hand on her throat. Out. She needed out. Aria stood, looked down at John. “Get some rest.”

  Before the room closed in any further, she left. To the corridor, down the stairs, and finally stopped at the front door. She needed to catch her breath. Needed to calm herself, and then the walls would retreat again. This suffocating feeling would pass. It always did.

  “Aria.”

  That one word held such sadness, such grief. And with it, the ceiling shrunk, the walls pulsed inward. The heat in the air swirled, stifled, and each short breath Aria drug in felt as though it would burn her lungs.

  Aria yanked the door open. She had to get away before she turned the anger churning inside of her on her father’s pregnant wife. Before she said something she could never get back, something her father would never forgive her for.

  Aria quickened her step, turning right on Upper Brook Street. She hurried toward the gate into Hyde Park, thankful for the lack of people or carriages milling about.

  Her stepmother and Uncle John were wrong. Her father was not dead. Injured, maybe. Imprisoned, more likely.

  There was a reason he hadn’t come home, why he hadn’t sent word.

  A voice whispered in the back of her thoughts, But you’ve heard absolutely nothing in three months.

  She took faster strides. How dare John and Emily give up? How dare they try to convince her that her father was dead? There was a reason he hadn’t come home.

  Aria stepped up to a slow run. Her lungs burned with every gulp of air.

  All over jewelry.

  She had understood what such a find would mean to her father’s career, but it wasn’t worth dying for. Relishing the icy pain that filled her chest, she pushed harder and faster.

  Home is where we are. Together.

  Her father’s words. She’d believed them.

  Then why had he left her behind?

  She staggered to a halt, heaving air in as fast as she could, trying to slow her racing heart. She was furious at her father, and how stupid was that? Furious that he’d taken another adventure without her. Furious that he’d left her in such a foreign place, with impossible standards and no room to breathe.

  Furious that he hadn’t come home.

  And now her life had become unrecognizable, something she couldn’t grasp tight enough to rein back a measure of control. The future ahead made her feel inadequate and unprepared.

  A countess? Her?

  She’d had trouble following the most basic rules of etiquette in this world; how could she possibly spend her life confined within them? She and Adam certainly shared a powerful connection. Very well, if she was admitting truths here, she couldn’t seem to go an hour without fantasizing about finishing what they’d started.

  But was that enough for happiness?

  Was it enough to build a future upon? She didn’t want an unhappy life, nor did she want that for Adam. He deserved better.

  A glance around her told her she’d gone deep into the park, off the main parade grounds and onto the familiar dirt path that led farther into the crop of trees and brush next to the river.

  It was her secret spot, one she’d inadvertently discovered on her first trip through Hyde Park, and one she’d fled to any number of times when the noise, the closeness of everything pressed in against her.

  According to Emily, she flouted propriety by being here alone. If Aria was discovered, the gossips would have a day of it.

 
“And how preposterous is that?” She trod through the dirt. “That sitting alone could be detrimental to one’s reputation.”

  “Talking to yourself in public might prove more so.”

  Aria whirled around. “What are you doing here?”

  “Coming to see what was amiss.” Adam moved toward her. “I was about to call upon you and I saw you running through the promenade like the devil nipped at your heels. Truth be told, given your nature, that seemed entirely possible. What are you running from?”

  “Nothing.” Aria turned to face the river, willing her body to relax.

  They stared into the water, standing side by side, just close enough to know the sharing of space was intentional. Seconds ticked into minutes. Then ten minutes had passed. Fifteen. Every passing moment in his presence, a part of her calmed. Let go.

  “Why did he leave me here?” The words were out of her mouth before she could think or take them back. She bent down to grab a small rock and heaved it as far as she could into the depths.

  “If you’d gone with him, you might be missing. Or dead.”

  “Maybe he wouldn’t have taken the same risks.” A handful of rocks, this time. “If I had been with him, everything would be as it should be.”

  Adam turned. “So you’re responsible for keeping him safe?”

  “If I’d gone with him, I wouldn’t be in this situation.” Once the words tumbled out, she winced at how they sounded.

  “Betrothed to me, you mean.”

  “It’s not—I don’t mean—” Her chest ached. Fear clogged her throat. “This isn’t my home.”

  In moments, the warmth of Adam’s coat surrounded her chilled arms.

  The gesture was gentlemanly, sweet, and she couldn’t stand him being nice to her right now.

  “Where is your home?” Adam must have sensed her need to push him away, so he turned, sat at the bench behind them. She refused to follow.

  “Anywhere my father is. Everywhere.” She looked out over the river. “Papa taught me to swim when I was eight. Threw me in the river and let me figure it out. Of course, he jumped right in next to me, and—” she gave a small laugh, “—had I realized I could stand in the water, I might not have flailed about so much.”

 

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