He took advantage of her shock to pull her toward the doors. Thankfully, it wasn’t far and they were soon outside.
The fresh air must have aroused her to alarming alertness because he barely had time to get her to the other side of the flagstone terrace before she turned on him with the wrath and violent indignation suited to an uncouth fisherman’s wife.
“What in holy hell do you think you are doing!”
CHAPTER 3
Amanda had never been so angry in her life. What did he think he was doing? He’d ruined everything. Everything! All her weeks and months of attending one boring affair after another, seeking out every titled earl in London Society, ruined.
Did he have any idea how many bloody earls there were in London? Scores!
Did he have any idea the time it had taken to perfect her innocent act?
Did he think Stanwich and Marquit would be the first arrogant males she’d have to fight off in order to protect her virtue?
Damn him!
It wasn’t as if she could sit down over a glass of port and have an honest conversation concerning the business ventures of anyone she might suspect of being behind the attempt on Harry’s life. It wasn’t as if she could ask the questions she needed to ask or get the information she needed to get without causing raised eyebrows.
No, she needed every bit of subterfuge at her disposal to discover what Harry had stumbled into. Because whatever it was, it was so illegal that someone would resort to murder to keep from being discovered.
And the Duke of Hadleigh had ruined everything.
Why had he stepped in where he wasn’t wanted? It wasn’t because he cared about her. Blast him, he didn’t even like her.
And she didn’t like him!
She focused every bit of her anger on him and jerked her arm out of his grasp. “What on earth possessed you to intrude where you weren’t wanted?”
He towered over her as if he had a right to intimidate her.
“If I were you,” he said in a low growl that reminded her of one of her father’s reprimands, “I’d be glad someone stepped in before you got yourself into trouble you couldn’t get out of. What, may I ask, possessed you to have such a conversation with two known rakes in Society? Do you have any idea what might have happened if you’d accepted their invitation?”
“Yes! I know perfectly well what might have happened. What do you think I am? Some green idiot debutante?”
“That’s exactly what I think, except at your age, one would think you’d know better.”
“At my age! Of all the—” Amanda stuttered over the uncomplimentary terms she was about to throw at him. “I’ll have you know,” she said taking a hostile step toward him, “that I’m the same age as your sister. You make three and twenty sound like it’s over one hundred.”
“I meant to imply that your three and twenty years have reduced you to having the wisdom of a three-year-old.”
“At least I don’t act like an aging ninety-year-old. Or worse, a hovering middle-aged spinster who’s never enjoyed the pleasures of youth.”
He looked down his aristocratic nose and sucked in an angry breath that caused his nostrils to flare. She probably should have been frightened by the way his eyes narrowed, or the tightening knot in his jaw, but she was too upset to take note of any warning signs.
“Where is your brother, Lady Amanda?” he asked through clenched teeth.
She relied on the pat answer she’d invented nearly a month ago. “He’s visiting friends, as if that’s any of your concern.”
“Which friends?”
“That, Your Grace, is none of your business.”
“Well, I’m making it my business. Your brother needs to cut his visit short so he can return to London to keep an eye on you.”
She whirled away, then took several steps before she turned to face him. It was either that or she was afraid she might punch him in the jaw. “You know, Your Grace, I thought when Celie married and escaped to the country with Haywood, I’d never have to put up with your intolerable behavior again. That thought has given me infinite moments of pleasure this entire year. Now you’ve barged back into my life like a raging bull, and assumed you can order me around as you did your sister.” She anchored her fists on her hips. “Is that it? Do you miss badgering a female that much? Now that your sister has escaped your manipulative oppression, are you that desperate to find someone else to control? Well, let me tell you.” She paced a small area in front of him. “I don’t need anyone to control my every movement.”
“Ha!”
His loud guffaw shocked her into momentary silence. The reprobate took advantage of the lapse in their conversation.
“Believe me, Lady Amanda, the last plague I need in my life is you! Although I have always loved my sister dearly, I was inordinately pleased when Lord Haywood assumed responsibility for her. I was even more pleased that she had survived her friendship with you relatively unscathed. The last role I want to step into again is playing nursemaid to a reckless hoyden who is one step from ruination.”
“Hoyden! Ruination! How dare you!”
“I dare because you have always had a propensity for crossing the line of decorum. You have always placed yourself just one step from disaster. And until tonight, you seemed to stop just one breath from becoming involved in a scandal. But this time I’m afraid you would have gone too far had I not rescued you.”
“Rescued! You think you rescued me?”
“Of course I did.”
She couldn’t believe it. He actually thought she’d needed saving.
She stopped and stared at Hadleigh. It had been nearly a year since she’d seen him and he hadn’t changed in the least. Except perhaps to become more—handsome. No! She hadn’t meant that. She’d meant—domineering.
A strange knot shifted inside her chest, nudging against her heart and causing it to flutter between beats. She stomped down any reaction to him and instead, shifted her tactic to another vein.
The two of them could argue forever and the most conciliatory conclusion either of them could hope for was to reach an impasse. And she didn’t have time to waste trying to placate him, or convince him she could take care of herself. She knew him too well. She’d have more luck trying to convince the moon to drop from the sky.
She had to let him think he was right. That she’d made a dreadful mistake and was the most fortunate creature on the face of the earth because he’d come to her rescue.
She had to outsmart him, which shouldn’t be difficult. He was a man, after all.
She feigned a contrite disposition and drew upon her best imitation of meekness. “You’re correct, Your Grace. I see now how my actions could have been misinterpreted.” She lowered her gaze to the ground and twisted her hands at her waist. “I owe you an apology. I can’t imagine what I was thinking.”
He reacted as if she’d thrown a bucket of cold water in his face. He obviously wasn’t prepared for such an abrupt turn.
“How can I ever thank you for rescuing me?” she added for good measure.
For the briefest of seconds, the Duke of Hadleigh was speechless.
She didn’t think it was possible to enjoy anything so much in her life. The most radiant glow of self-satisfaction she’d ever imagined spread through her. He recovered quickly though, and cleared his throat.
“I don’t expect your appreciation, my lady. I expect your understanding of how serious your situation could have been.”
Amanda clenched her fists at her side and held her temper in check. The bloody man expected submission. He expected her to grovel! Well, he could rot in hell before he’d see her capitulate. She’d never surrendered to a man in her life and she wasn’t about to begin now!
She pasted a false smile on her face she prayed he couldn’t see through, and answered him in the meekest voice she could muster. “Oh, yes, Your Grace. I definitely see the error of my way. Thanks to your interference, I narrowly escaped what could have been a disastrous situation.”
A smug smile lit the Duke of Hadleigh’s face and Amanda had to literally cross her arms over her middle to keep her right fist from reaching up to wipe the smirking grin from his face.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Lady Amanda.”
He locked his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his feet. His pompous attitude nearly drove her over the edge.
“Oh, believe me, Your Grace, I’m truly contrite. I hadn’t thought how my actions could have been misinterpreted. Thank you for pointing out my error.”
“You’re welcome, Lady Amanda. I’m relieved that I could save you from committing an irredeemable mistake.”
The anger that consumed her caused a shiver to race down her spine. She rubbed her hands over her upper arms. He noticed, and assumed she was chilled.
“The air is brisk.” He started to remove his jacket. “Allow me to offer you my—”
“Thank you, but I really think I should return to the ballroom. After my behavior earlier, it might not be wise to remain out here alone with you too long. In fact, it’s been a long evening. I believe I’ll bid our host and hostess a good evening and go home.”
“That seems like an excellent idea.”
The duke held out his arm and Amanda reached out to place her fingers atop it, then hesitated. She remembered the last time she’d touched him, remembered the burning heat that had traveled through the fabric of his tailcoat, and to her flesh, then steadily up her arm. She didn’t want to experience that feeling again. She refused to allow him to bring out any emotion in her but anger.
She took a fortifying breath that guarded her emotions, then placed her hand upon his arm. The same consuming heat invaded her glove but she ignored it and stepped with him into the ballroom.
He deposited her on the far side of the room close to where Lady Eversplea stood, then left her with a polite nod.
She bid her host farewell, then walked to the front where her carriage waited. She might not be able to gain more information from Marquit or Stanwich, but she’d at least discovered the name of Stanwich’s shipping office and where it was located.
It was early yet. If everything worked to her advantage, she might discover something before the night was over.
…
Sterling leaned back against the rich leather squabs of his expensively upholstered carriage seats and closed his eyes for a brief moment. He needed time to calm himself. He needed a few quiet moments to control his anger and frustration. Besides, he had complete faith in his driver’s ability to follow Lady Amanda’s carriage and not lose it.
He had no idea where she was headed, but he knew one thing for sure, her destination wasn’t home.
She should be on the stage. He’d seen hundreds of performances in his lifetime but never had he witnessed a more superb job of acting.
What kind of fool did she think he was? Every word had been a blatant lie. The Amanda Radburn he knew would never have apologized for her actions. She was one of the most self-assured women he’d ever met. Even more self-confident than his sister had been. And more independent.
He opened the small window behind him that allowed him to speak to his driver. “Is she still in sight, Reynolds?”
“Yes, Your Grace. We have her in view.”
“Where do you think she’s headed?”
“I’m not sure, Your Grace. It seems as if her destination might be the Blackwall docks.”
Another wave of anger washed over him. What on earth could she be doing going to Blackwall. And at night. Didn’t she know how dangerous it was for an unescorted woman to go there during the day? Let alone after dark?
He refused to consider that what he felt was concern. Concern indicated he cared what trouble the lady stumbled into. Concern indicated it mattered one way or the other what happened to her.
No, what he felt was anger.
He remembered her performance only minutes earlier in the moonlight. “I owe you an apology. I can’t imagine what I must have been thinking.”
He knew exactly what she’d been thinking. She’d said the exact words she thought he wanted to hear. She said what she thought she needed to say to pacify him and draw him away from whatever mess she’d gotten herself into.
Or, to be more precise, whatever mess her brother had gotten her into.
“She’s nearly at the docks, Your Grace.”
Sterling breathed in. He didn’t need his driver to tell him how close they were to the waterfront. “Stay with her, Reynolds, but don’t let her see you.”
“Very well, Your Grace.”
Sterling’s anger increased another notch. He could still hear the innocence in her voice. “I’m truly contrite. I’ve learned my lesson. How can I ever thank you for rescuing me?”
Blast her! She hadn’t learned a thing, except what to say to get herself out of one situation and into another. Well, she’d met her match this time. She couldn’t fool him like she’d fooled her father and her brother all these years. He’d beat her at her own game. He had to. Saving her from whatever mess she’d gotten into was his only chance of redeeming himself in Cecelia’s eyes.
And since his sister had walked out of his life all those months ago, nothing was more important than doing whatever was necessary to win back the only family he had left.
“The lady’s carriage stopped, Your Grace.”
“Can you read the name of the shipping office?”
“I believe the sign above the door reads Bulford Shipping, Your Grace.”
Bloody hell! Damn and bloody hell!
“She’s disembarking from her carriage, Your Grace.”
Sterling waited. The seconds seemed like hours. He tried to block out the sounds of besotted sailors returning to their ships to sleep off a day and night of drinking. He tried to ignore the raucous sounds of drunken laughter and ribald jokes coming from taverns. Unsavory inns and pubs lined the streets all along the wharf. And the men and women who inhabited these unsavory places weren’t the sort he wanted to be around, let alone a lady with Amanda’s upbringing.
“Now what’s she doing, Reynolds?”
“The lady has disappeared around the side of the building, Your Grace. I believe there’s a side entrance she must be aware of.”
There was a short silence during which he heard segments of the bartering between several sailors and a group of ladies who earned their living selling their bodies to anyone who paid the asking price. Reynolds’s voice interrupted the banter with another disturbing detail. “The lady’s driver doesn’t seem the reliable sort, Your Grace.”
“Why not?”
“He’s left the lady. He remounted the carriage and drove off.”
“Bloody hell!” Sterling growled between clenched teeth. Without waiting to formulate a plan, he opened the door and jumped to the ground. “Wait here, Reynolds.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Sterling covered the distance to the shipping office in long, angry strides. His temper rose with every step he took and by the time he reached the alleyway he was ready to throttle her.
He turned the corner, hoping she didn’t stand within reaching distance. He was so angry he didn’t trust what he would do when he saw her.
He looked into the darkness and stopped.
He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected to find, but it wasn’t a vacant alley without a sign of Amanda Radburn.
A heightened sense of fear slammed into him.
He scanned his surroundings but found nothing to alarm him—at least her body wasn’t lying in a crumpled heap in a corner.
Slowly, cautiously, he walked deeper into the alley. He stopped when he reached the side entrance door and placed his hand on the knob. It turned easily.
He waited, listening for any sound that would indicate he wasn’t alone.
Nothing.
He took a tentative step into the Earl of Stanwich’s shipping office—and stopped.
His heart skipped a beat when the cold,
hard barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of his head.
“Close the door behind you and put your hands against the wall...
...or you’re a dead man.”
CHAPTER 4
Amanda tried to hold her pistol steady but it was difficult when the head she had the barrel pressed against was a good six inches above her. She prayed the gun didn’t fire by accident. She’d hate to have to explain to Celie that she’d killed her brother.
“Now, press your palms flat against the wall.”
When he didn’t lift his hands, she pressed the metal against his head a little harder. “Now.”
“Or you’ll what, shoot me?”
“No, probably not. But the ache in your head when you wake up will make you wish I had.”
He hesitated a short moment, then lifted his hands and pressed them against the wall.
“I’m warning you, my lady. This game you’re playing has gone too far.”
A heavy pressure settled atop her chest. The second she saw him approach in the shadows she was sure it was Hadleigh. Even though she prayed she was mistaken, now that she heard his voice, she knew she hadn’t been.
Blast the man!
“Did you hear me?” he said, his voice containing every bit of the anger she knew he felt.
“Yes, Your Grace. I heard you.”
The moment she answered she knew she’d put herself at a disadvantage. His broad back and shoulders expanded even more with the deep breath he took and the muscled flesh beneath his jacket pulled the material from its seams.
Amanda knew she was in trouble. The tone of his voice confirmed it.
“Since you know who I am, I’ll ask you just this once to remove the weapon from my skull then step back, because I’m going to turn around. When I do, if you’re foolish enough to remain within my reach, you’ll live to regret it.”
She stepped back just in time.
With an angry growl, he spun around.
The expression on his face would have terrified her had she not seen that look before. The clenched fists at his sides would have given her pause for concern had she not stepped far enough away from him that an adequate amount of darkness separated them. And she knew if she didn’t gain the upper hand on this situation, he would control it and her.
The Dark Duke Page 3
