The Impostor Prince

by Tanya Anne Crosby

  The cab dropped her in front of Alexandra’s house. Their longtime servant answered the door. “Shall I summon Lady Alexandra?” he inquired.

  “No,” Claire said, nibbling her lower lip. “Is Lord Huntington receiving, perchance?”

  The servant smiled. “He will be pleased to see you, my lady. Please come in.”

  Ian couldn’t wait to see her.

  Ben had insisted upon returning to Highbury Hall to repair himself, and Ian couldn’t blame the man. The plan was for Ian to retrieve Claire and to take her home to her brother. Ian was so charged with the news he could barely contain himself. He couldn’t wait to witness their reunion, and he considered how best to break the news. Briefly, he considered not telling her and letting her just see Ben for herself. But he decided it would be far too cruel to make her wait. She was so worried about her brother. Every second he kept the knowledge from her was a second too long.

  He spied Ryo in the foyer. “Where is Claire?”

  Ryo shook his head.

  Ian had a sudden, sinking feeling in his gut. “Where is she?” he asked again.

  Ryo simply stared at him. He glowered at the man and bolted up the stairs to Claire’s room, shoving the door open. It was devoid of her belongings, every trace of her removed.

  Where would she go?

  Why would she go?

  She must have at least left him a note, he reasoned, panic welling in his chest.

  He hurried to his own room, finding a note on his bed, along with a small brown velvet pouch. He opened the pouch and turned it upside down, dumping the contents. His heart twisted at what spilled onto the bed.

  It was the ring he’d promised her—completely intact, with not a stone missing.

  Confusion furrowed his brow. Why would she leave it? They’d had a bloody bargain. Bloody hell! He’d not slept day or night trying to keep it. He lifted the note to read it and his jaw clenched.

  He stood staring at the note in disbelief, trying to make sense of the words.

  She wouldn’t leave, he told himself, not after what they’d shared last night, not with Ben in trouble. Not unless she had been given other means…or an ultimatum.

  His mind rattled off questions.

  The answer to all of them seemed to be the same.

  His father—selfish, rotten bastard! The old man had wanted Claire gone from the instant she’d arrived in his home. And he had the means to achieve it.

  Ian crushed the note and tossed it to the floor, clenching the ring in his fist until the stone cut him.

  What if Claire had gone after Ben herself?

  What if she had gone to Huntington for help?

  His heart hammered against his ribs and his gut wrenched at the possibility.

  Furious, he flew downstairs and made his way to his father’s office, intending to confront the man once and for all. This was not the way he’d intended to do it. Somehow, after meeting Claire, he had mellowed. He had no longer been angry, simply prepared for the truth. But at this moment, he was more infuriated than he’d ever been in his life.

  The old man was seated behind his desk. When Ian walked in, slamming his closed fist upon the door as he passed, the king looked up.

  The ring sliced into Ian’s palm, but he didn’t give a damn. He tossed the obnoxious piece of jewelry on the desk.

  “Where is Claire?”

  “I believe Ryo said she returned home,” his father said pleasantly, with no trace of guilt.

  Ian clenched and unclenched his fist at his side. “Why?”

  His father shrugged. “How should I know, Merrick? She simply left.” He peered down at his papers once more, as though to dismiss Ian.

  “Liar!” Ian shouted, smacking his hand down on the papers on the desk. “Why?”

  Obviously alarmed by Ian’s temper, his father raked his chair away from the desk. “I don’t know,” he insisted, clinging to ignorance.

  “I don’t believe you,” Ian said with conviction. “You’re a rotten, selfish bugger who doesn’t know how to breathe a word of truth!” He lifted his hand, revealing a spot of blood where his palm had been.

  “Merrick!” his father said, eyeing the bright red stain. He stood up and took another step backward in self-defense.

  Ian glared at him. Every ounce of ire he had pent up came to the forefront.

  “Blind auld fool!” Ian said, shaking his head in disgust. “Even now, you haven’t the first bloody clue, do you? Do you have any notion how sickened by you I am?”

  “How can you speak to me in such an insulting manner?” his father asked, looking wounded by Ian’s actions and words. “I raised you better than that!”

  Ian leaned over the desk, seething with contempt. It radiated from his skin like fire. If he were a bloody dragon, he’d incinerate the self-serving codger where he stood. “Look into my eyes,” he demanded. “Look deep and tell me what you see, auld man!”

  His father began to quake. “I see an insolent, ungrateful son who has little respect for his elders.”

  “Wrong!” Ian said. “You conceived me, aye, but I have no father!”

  “You can’t mean that!” the old man argued. “She can’t be worth this much to you, Merrick. Can she? She’s just a silly woman!”

  “My name is not Merrick,” Ian returned scornfully. “It’s Ian, auld fool!”

  The look on the old man’s face at the revelation was one of absolute horror.

  “And, yes,” Ian assured him. “Claire is worth a hundred thousand of you. So you’d better pray she went straight home, because if she’s come to any harm at all—any at all—I will hold you personally responsible!”

  His father stepped forward, cocking his head. “You are Ian?”

  Ian turned and walked away, afraid that if he remained even one more second in his father’s presence, he would strangle the bastard with his bare hands.

  “Thank you,” Claire said, and meant it. She would be eternally grateful for Lord Huntington’s service. Despite the fact that she had treated him coolly, he had, at once, come to her rescue. And he’d been a perfect gentleman, besides.

  “It will be my utmost pleasure,” he told her. “I’m so glad you’ve come to your senses, my dear. I’ll warrant Meridian is a far cry from England.”

  “I’m certain,” Claire agreed, sighing, trying hard not to think about Merrick at all.

  She was anxious to arrive at the house on George Street, eager for answers. She fidgeted in her seat, averting her gaze, uncomfortable with Lord Huntington’s regard. “Where is Alexandra this afternoon?” she inquired.

  She’d not spoken to Lexie since the evening at Vauxhall, and then, she hadn’t been entirely civil. Even though Claire didn’t agree with Alexandra’s views, they’d known each other far too long to let that stand in the way of their friendship.

  Besides, she hadn’t many friends to lose.

  She wondered if Merrick would miss her even a little, and chided herself for dwelling on something so pointless. It was over, she told herself. She had understood the consequences when she’d agreed to the ruse to begin with. And she had realized the import of her actions last night. She was no longer a virgin, but what did it matter? She had never intended to marry anyway. She didn’t want to marry any man. None would ever be as tolerant as her father.

  “Gone to the country to visit her mother,” Lord Huntington revealed. “I would have thought she’d have told you.”

  Claire thought it curious their servant hadn’t remembered that when she’d come to their door. The man had asked Claire if she was there to see Alexandra and he’d been ready to fetch her.

  Claire shrugged. “Well, I’m certain I must have upset her,” she admitted. “I shall have to apologize when she returns.”

  “I’m certain it will be entirely forgotten by then,” he reassured. The carriage came to a halt. “We’re here!” he announced.

  Claire peered out the window, surprised to spy the docks. “I’m afraid the driver has the wrong address,�
�� she said, and turned to face Lord Huntington.

  “Not at all,” Lord Huntington said with a smile that unnerved her. As he reached out to cover her nose and mouth with a putrid cloth.

  Claire tried to scream, but the effort only managed to fill her lungs with stinging ether.

  Ian knocked on Claire’s front door.

  When there was no immediate answer, he let himself in, far too on edge to wait for someone to admit him.

  Ben was descending the stairwell, clean shaven and smiling, his face startlingly similar to Claire’s.

  “Where is she?” Ian asked without preamble.

  The look on Ben’s face was hardly reassuring. “I thought she was with you.”

  Ian swallowed. His gut turned. “She’s not here?”

  Ben shook his head. “No.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “I’ve gone through the entire house.”

  “Bloody hell!” Ian exclaimed, and covered his face with an arm. Something like pain stung the back of his eyelids. Fear clutched at his chest.

  “Ian?” Ben asked. “Where is my sister?”

  Ryo entered behind him, answering the question because Ian suddenly couldn’t speak. “We suspect she went to pay your ransom.”

  Ian’s voice shook as he faced Ben. “Is there anyplace else she might have gone? Any place at all?”

  He and Ben shared a look of utter fear and Ian knew before Ben said it what his answer would be.

  “Only Huntington,” Ben replied.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Why have you brought me here?” Claire asked. “I don’t understand!”

  Her hands were bound and she was in the windowless brig of what she assumed was a trade vessel, with nothing more in her possession than the dress upon her back.

  “You’re taking a little vacation abroad,” Lord Huntington disclosed.

  “You can’t do this!” Claire told him, trying to get her hands out of the bindings, but even as she said it, she realized it wasn’t true. He could do whatsoever he wished.

  Who would stop him?

  Who would look for her?

  Her stomach roiled at the answer to that question. She’d asked Merrick to leave her be and not to seek her out. Never in her life had she hoped more than she did this instant that someone would completely and disrespectfully disregard her request. He was her only hope.

  Huntington seated himself beside her, reaching out to caress her hair. Claire cringed, moving her face away from his touch, unable to bear it.

  “You might enjoy it more if you simply tried, Claire,” he said gently. And then he shifted to lie beside her.

  Claire panicked. Remembering Jasper’s instructions, she kicked, aiming low.

  He reeled backward, howling, cursing profusely.

  Claire watched, stunned by his reaction. Red faced, he finally straightened, and said, “You will come to regret that, Claire!”

  He moved to the door.

  “What about Ben?” she demanded to know, realizing now that he must have had a hand in Ben’s disappearance. “What have you done with my brother?”

  “Ben is perfectly fine,” he assured her, confirming her suspicions. “A little indisposed, but fine, nevertheless.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Right where he belongs—Fleet Prison.”

  At his disclosure, Claire felt a mixture of relief and terror. Ben was alive. But she’d heard horror stories about the residents of Fleet. Once behind those walls, all prisoners were treated with equal disdain. It was the dread of all men, commoners and gentlemen alike.

  “Why would you put my brother in such a place?”

  “I’ll untie you when I return,” he said, ignoring her question. “I’m afraid this impromptu journey has left me somewhat in a pinch. There is so much to do before we set sail.”

  “Alexandra will wonder where I’ve gone!”

  “I’ll be sure to give her your regards,” he said, and opened the door. “If you’re a good girl…and you learn to appreciate my efforts, I’ll see to it that Ben is released unharmed.”

  Claire’s eyes shot him with venom. “And if I don’t?”

  “Then, it’s quite the pity, but good men die in prison every day.” He left her to mull over that fact, slamming the cabin door and bolting it from outside.

  Claire lay back upon the hard bunk, taking measure of her surroundings. It was a very, very small cell, with just a bunk, a blanket and nothing more.

  Why would any man want to possess a woman who didn’t want him? she wondered.

  “Merrick,” she whispered. “Where are you?”

  Huntington made his way homeward, preparing his story. Alexandra had yet to leave, but he would, indeed, send her packing to the country to visit her ungrateful mother.

  Gad—all women were thankless bitches!

  Still, he was a little angry with himself. Things had gone a bit awry. He hadn’t intended to snatch Claire. He just hadn’t been able to resist the opportunity once it had presented itself. Having Ben arrested and put away was one thing. This was another entirely. She wasn’t some common bat he could dispose of after dawdling with her. She was someone of consequence, and despite the fact that she had made herself unavailable to most people, she would be missed.

  And what if Ben were to be freed somehow?

  What if his bloody highness came searching for her?

  No, he couldn’t set her free now, even if wished to. And he truly didn’t. For too long, he’d wanted her. He’d loved the chase, and now that he had her right where he wanted her, he wanted the spoils of victory.

  He wouldn’t leave for a few days, that’s what he would do. He’d keep her on the ship until suspicion was cast conveniently elsewhere. And then, once it was safe to depart, he would take her somewhere far away.

  His body hardened at the thought of taking her. He wondered if she would enjoy it a little rough…a choke around the neck.

  The first time he’d done it, it had been entirely an accident. It was simply a game he’d played with an experienced paramour. He’d squeezed too tightly and forgot to let go. Poor wench. After that, he’d grown quite addicted to the thrill of it.

  He peered out the window, spying Merrick and Cameron walking toward his door—along with Ben.

  “Drat!” he said, and called to the driver. “Keep going! Don’t stop!”

  Edward had been following the girl since she’d left Berkeley Square. He’d been in London long enough to know who she was. How ironic that Julian hadn’t realized the brothers switched places. He wondered how Merrick and Ian had discovered the truth.

  Whatever the story was, he was sure he could use the situation to his advantage. He just didn’t know how yet.

  Anyway, he couldn’t go back to Scotland. Since he had burned down Glen Abbey Manor, the authorities would be searching for him there. It seemed pleading mercy to Julian was his only option, though he knew his half brother well enough to know he must have something of value to offer the king in return, or Julian would never allow him to return to Meridian.

  He watched the gentleman depart the ship alone, and realized his suspicions had come to fruition.

  He knew a desperate man when he spied one; it took one to recognize another.

  He waited and once he was certain the girl would not be moved, he returned to Berkeley Square, certain that her whereabouts must be worth something.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Cameron placed Huntington’s house under surveillance, while Ben brought his servants home to be sure someone was about in case Claire returned. Together, he and Ian sought out the prison guard, who swore—after a sound beating—that he hadn’t the first clue where Huntington had fled.

  If anything should happen to Claire, Ian would never forgive himself.

  He had yet to speak to his father after confronting him, and doubted he would ever forgive the stupid bastard. If he hadn’t sent Claire away, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now.

  Lord, he
loved her.

  And when he saw her again, it was the first thing he intended to tell her…along with the remainder of the truth.

  There would be no more lies—ever.

  His life as Merrick was done.

  His parents’ deceptions were over.

  Julian Merrick Welbourne II sat at his desk, letters strewn before him, contemplating past decisions. He stared at a vial of laudanum, not touching it. The drug had assisted him through years of regret, numbing the pain. Now, it offered little relief.

  Somehow, he’d made a terrible mess of things…his own life…Fiona’s…his sons, not to mention that of the wife he’d never loved.

  If Ian was here in London, then Merrick must also know. Surely, he’d lost both of his sons.

  Where had things gone so wrong?

  “What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!” he’d once heard a man say.

  His entire life, he’d only wanted to do the honorable thing. He’d ceded to his father, marrying Elena, because he’d believed it was true that his duty was first and foremost to Meridian. Not all men were born to follow their hearts; some were born to a higher burden.

  Still, he had offered Fiona a life of luxury under his loving care, and she had rebuffed him. And still he had given her the opportunity to raise at least one of their sons, while he’d made the other his heir instead of Elena’s progeny. In the end, it hadn’t mattered, because Elena had despised him, avoiding his bed as if it harbored the plague, and she hadn’t borne him any children at all.

  Meanwhile, he had even sent his half brother Edward to keep Fiona safe, knowing Edward would care for his blood as though it were his own. He and Edward might not have been very close, but Edward had spent his entire life shadowing Julian, trying to overcome his base-born beginnings. Julian had wanted to give him the opportunity to prove himself, to feel worthy. He had entrusted two of his most precious possessions to him. And somehow, in the process he had lost Edward, Fiona, Elena and, now, both his sons.

  And further, Ryo had informed him that Claire had gone missing.