My Secret Life

by C. J. Archer

  "Oh," he said. "That."

  "That? Is there something else?" She looked intrigued, and slightly amused. He frowned at her. This was the Lilly of old, the Lilly he'd hoped desperately to see again during her illness, but now he wasn't so sure he wanted her back exactly the same. He wouldn't mind if she was a little less perceptive and much less direct.

  "Nothing I wish to divulge to you, my nosy little sister." He tapped her lightly on the end of her nose.

  "Ah. So it involves a woman." She was smiling now. He couldn't help smiling back at her, even though the teasing was at his expense.

  But then he sighed. There was nothing amusing about his feelings for Min. Everything inside him hurt when he thought about her. And he thought about her all the time. Damn it, but he should have been glad she rejected him. Marrying Min meant staying in London and taking care of her. He'd miss out on adventure, the thrill of the ever-changing sea, the discovery of new places. The very idea of marriage should send him running back down to the Legal Quays until the Silver Star sailed.

  Oddly, it didn't.

  Perhaps he needed to speak to his quartermaster and have him postpone their departure another few days. Good idea. He'd see to it that afternoon. Another week in London would have Lilly on her feet again and Min...

  He couldn't finish the thought. He had no idea what would happen to Min if she didn't wed. Her situation was hopeless. If the rumors he'd heard could be believed, Sir George was unlikely to find another patron.

  So why didn't she just marry Blake?

  Did she despise him that much that she couldn't put her reservations about his character aside and marry him for the good of herself and her father?

  Or did she still believe he'd betrayed her?

  "We were talking about Hawkesbury," he said to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

  Lilly reached out to the table near her bed and picked up a folded letter. She handed it to him. "It's from Lord Hawkesbury, offering me a sum of money for my future and the baby's."

  "A generous sum," Blake said, reading. "And a house."

  "You told him." Her voice went cold. If her lips could turn any whiter they would have with all that pursing.

  He folded the letter again and handed it back to her. There was nothing of a personal nature in it. No apology, no pleading of Hawkesbury's innocence and no mention of his betrothal to Patience Enderby. It was a statement of fact and an offer of a long-term arrangement that would see her and the baby set up for their lifetime. It was generous. But it was remote, detatched. It could have been written by anyone for all the lack of feeling expressed in it.

  Blake met Lilly's gaze levelly. "I stand by my actions."

  "You had no right!"

  "I had every right. I am your brother. I had to at least try and talk sense into him."

  She waved the letter. "Oh, you did. This letter is nothing if not sensible."

  "It's not my fault the man you chose to love is an idiot and can't see what a wonderful wife you'd make."

  "Stop it." She sank into her pillows and turned on her side. The letter lay beside her on the bed, her fingers covering it. "You may think you did the right thing, but you didn't. You betrayed me, Robert. And I'll never forgive you."

  Betray. It seemed he was destined to hurt the women he cared about, even though he was doing his best to protect them. "He needed to know you were carrying his child," he said. "I would want to know if I was to become a father, even if I couldn't publicly acknowledge that child."

  "I would have told him," she said. "But only when I was ready."

  He took her cool, weightless hand. "I'm sorry," he said. And he was. More than that apology could ever indicate. "Will you take up his offer?"

  "No," she said flatly.

  "Not even the money?"

  "No."

  "Why? This is his only way of making amends, so why not accept it?"

  She sighed and closed her eyes. The dark lashes contrasted starkly with the white pillow and her even whiter skin. "You men are so thick-headed. You don't see what is so obvious to us women."

  He snorted softly. "Aye, you'll get no argument from me. Tell me, Lil, what don't we men see? Educate me."

  Her eyes opened. Where before they were cold, now they were warm, soft and distant. "That we want you. We want the man our heart has chosen for us. Not money or whatever it is you men offer us out of a sense of duty. We want you and we want you only on the condition that you want us just as much."

  He watched her for a long time, his heartbeat growing louder in his ears, his scalp tingling.

  "We need to know that our chosen mate loves us as we love him," Lilly went on. "Do you understand, Robert?"

  He stared. And stared.

  Then he blinked.

  He felt like he'd been given the key to unlock a treasure chest. "Yes," he murmured. "I think I do."

  "Good." She waved at the door leading to her inner chamber where she kept a small desk and writing implements. "Please be so good as to fetch me paper, pen and ink."

  He stood and did as bid. "You're going to write to Hawkesbury?" he said when he returned.

  She nodded. Blake helped her to sit up a little and found a tray atop a nearby table. He upturned it on her lap and set out the writing materials. He sat on the chair next to the bed while she wrote her letter. When she finished, she gave it to him.

  "Blot it and seal it for me, please," she said.

  He took it into the inner chamber and carried out her instructions then brought the letter back to her.

  "No," she said, refusing it, "I want you to deliver it."

  He nodded. "I'll take it to him directly."

  "You'll not harm him, I hope."

  He bent and kissed the top of her head. "He doesn't deserve your fretting."

  "Robert," she said, taking him weakly by the shoulders and giving him a glare that mimicked their mother's. "Promise me you'll deliver the message and that is all."

  He sighed. "Yesterday I could not have made that promise. Now...well, I've learned that making Hawkesbury pay for his sins will only harm those I love. So I've decided he can live."

  She laughed. "I won't assume this new opinion is my doing. I can see that something in you has changed, Robert. And I know why." She kissed her fingertips and touched them to his cheek. "I hope she is worthy of you, Brother."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Even when you're ill, you know everything."

  "Not in this instance. Mother told me about Mistress Peabody. I have to say I'm most pleased someone has caught your roaming eye."

  "Mother isn't so pleased."

  "She'll change her mind when she realizes the lady is the one keeping you in London. Forever, I hope."

  "She isn't the only reason I've decided to stay." Until he said it he hadn't known he would. But hearing it out loud made it real. And absolutely necessary. He wasn't leaving Min for all the Spanish gold his ship could carry.

  "No," she said, "but she is the main one."

  "Aye. She is." She was more important than any adventure, more important than getting revenge on Hawkesbury and more important than his mother's displeasure. He would never find a woman like Min. Ever. If he let her slip through his grasp now, he was a bigger fool than even Lilly thought him. "Only she doesn't know how important she is to me and I must tell her." He slapped the letter against the palm of his hand. "After I deliver this." He kissed her forehead again. "Wish me luck."

  "Good luck."

  He left the house via the servants' entrance to avoid Lady Warhurst and ordered the stable boy to saddle his horse. The sooner he delivered the letter, the sooner he could see Min. He rode through London and out along The Strand to Hawkesbury Hall.

  The earl was at home and received Blake in his study. Alone. A brave move considering Blake's previous intention to do him harm. Hawkesbury rose from behind a large desk partially obscured by crooked stacks of papers and books. He set aside a sheet of parchment and placed a quill in a fine silver inkstand near his r
ight hand. He greeted Blake with a hesitant smile which didn't reach his eyes.

  Blake handed over the letter. Hawkesbury stared at it but didn't open it. "I'll give you your privacy in a moment," Blake said. "But first I want you to do something in exchange for me not forcing your hand where my sister is concerned."

  The smile faltered. "As I've said previously, my hand is not available to be forced. I have promised to wed another and breaking that promise would have...consequences for those I care about." He glanced down at the letter. His thumb caressed the paper. "I wish it were not so." This last he said so quietly, Blake almost didn't hear it.

  "No," he said. "Your explanation is not good enough for me and it certainly won't be good enough for my brother. He's got a reputation for bloody-mindedness." When Hawkesbury said nothing, he went on. "It may be within my power to help you but I need to know what I'm up against."

  "You can't—"

  "Tell me! "

  Hawkesbury gave him a rueful smile. "Very well. I can tell you some of the situation—so that you know what I am up against as you put it." He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "My bride-to-be is expecting."

  Blake's fists clenched. "So you lied to me when you told me you hadn't got her with child."

  A muscle in the earl's jaw pulsed. "I didn't lie."

  "You mean you're taking on another man's whelp? What in God's name for?"

  Hawkesbury looked away but not before Blake saw pain etched deep into the shadows around his eyes. He was being forced into the marriage then.

  "You're being blackmailed?" Blake asked. "By the girl?"

  Hawkesbury shook his head. "Patience wants this marriage as little as I do. She loves the babe's father."

  "Then it must be her father forcing you."

  Hawkesbury moved a few steps to the fireplace and rested his elbow on the mantelpiece between two slender silver candlesticks. Without turning to Blake he inclined his head in a curt nod.

  "But...why? Why does he not wed her to the man she loves?"

  "Because he is a farmer and I am an earl. It's economics, pure and simple."

  Blake doubted it was either pure or simple. Hawkesbury was a powerful man, a favorite at court. Of course he would have more money and land than a farmer but he also held more power. Patience's father, Lord Enderby, must want some of that power for himself.

  "And to achieve this he's blackmailing you," Blake said. "How?"

  "I've told you, I cannot say." Hawkesbury fingered Lilly's letter. "It affects my loved ones."

  "He's threatened them in some way? Then threaten him in return. Does he have any trade investments? I can get my seafaring contacts to block any shipments—."

  Hawkesbury shook his head. "The threat comes from information that's in his possession. Damning information. Something to do with my father. Something that if it is revealed, will not only devastate my mother and sister, it may well destroy them. I wish to say no more than that." He cleared his throat and straightened. "Now what is your request, Blakewell? If it is within my power to accomplish it, I will."

  Blake knew he'd get no more out of the earl on the subject. If Leo wished to try then so be it, but Blake didn't think Hawkesbury would divulge his secret. If the situation was reversed, Blake wouldn't. "It is well within your powers. Have you heard the rumors about Minerva Peabody?"

  "That she is the writer of Marius and Livia? Yes. I was sorry to hear of it."

  "Sorry?" Blake's hand fluttered at his sword hilt. If Hawkesbury slandered the name of the woman he intended to marry, he'd have to challenge him.

  "Put your anger away," Hawkesbury said. "I meant I'm sorry for her. She's the one suffering from the rumor. It's true then?"

  Blake flexed his fingers. "Aye. And Style is refusing to perform the play."

  Hawkesbury inclined his head. "Ah. So you want me to order him to return it to the stage."

  "Yes. And to not exclude any future plays of Min's simply because they are written by her."

  Hawkesbury drew in a breath. "You ask a great deal. Knowingly putting on a play written by a woman is scandalous to say the least."

  "I'm aware of that."

  "There'll be those who don't like it. Some of them will be very important men. They might make life difficult for all involved, including Mistress Peabody."

  "And for you?"

  He lifted one shoulder. "The simple fact is, Blakewell, we don't know what the public's reaction will be. I would hate to see more damage caused by performing her plays than not."

  To Hell with this. Blake wasn't leaving Hawkesbury Hall until the bloody-minded lord of the house agreed to his request. It was time to use whatever weapons he had at his disposal. And the biggest weapon was in his opponent's hand.

  Blake nodded at the letter. "Read it."

  Hawkesbury's face changed from a man sure of his power to one unsure of everything. His hand began to shake a little as he opened the letter. He turned his back to Blake and read.

  It had not taken Lilly long to write but it took Hawkesbury several minutes to read. He leaned heavily on the desk, his head bowed. It seemed to get lower and lower as time wore on. When he finally turned around, he looked nothing like Blake expected. There was no feigned friendliness in his features, no hint of sorrow or regret at Lilly's refusal. No reaction to the letter whatsoever.

  "Very well," Hawkesbury said. "I'll speak to Style today. Is there anything else?"

  "No. Our business is concluded."

  "And you'll not speak of my troubles to anyone except your brother? Not even your sister?"

  "Especially not my sister." It would only hurt her more to think that Hawkesbury might really care for her. Perhaps he did, but it wasn't enough or he'd have tried harder to extricate himself from the marriage to Patience, blackmail or not.

  They shook hands as if securing a business transaction then Hawkesbury turned away again to look out the nearby window. In the reflection, Blake could see the earl lift the letter to his mouth and nose. His deep, deep breath was the only sound in the room.

  "Good day, my lord," Blake said.

  Hawkesbury said nothing. Blake closed the door and left.

  CHAPTER 26

  There was a man at Min's house when Blake arrived. He was ordering a laborer to load furniture onto the back of a cart with a great deal of gesticulation. When the laborer—a hunchback dressed in a graying shirt and leather jerkin—dropped a chair, the man in charge smacked him across the face with the back of his gloved hand. The hunchback ducked but not fast enough.

  "What is this?" Blake said, dismounting. "Who are you?"

  The man, a foppish, dour-faced individual, nodded a greeting. "My name is Ned Taylor. I'm overseeing the safe transportation of Sir George Peabody's belongings to the house of my father. And you are?"

  Blake ignored his question. He had a bad feeling about this. "By whose authority are you here? Where's Min?"

  "You mean Minerva."

  "I am not a patient man, Taylor, and if you fail to answer either one of my questions by the time I have drawn breath, you'll find yourself being introduced to my rapier. Understand?" He was perhaps being prematurely dramatic but Blake's gut was telling him something was very wrong. Besides, his threat achieved the desired result.

  Taylor gulped. "I'm here on my own authority." He poked his thumb at the front door. "Minerva is inside. But you can't see her."

  "Then you'd better stop me." Blake wanted answers and this fool wasn't providing them fast enough. He strode past him, measuring him out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't overly tall or large and his sword hilt shone with disuse—Blake could overpower him without much effort if the need arose.

  "Stop. Stop!" Taylor trotted alongside him but didn't hinder Blake's progress. Not a complete fool then. "You've no right to enter that house."

  "And what right do you have to enter it?"

  "I'm Sir George's future son-in-law. And with Sir Geor—."

  "What?" Blake halted. Turned. His mouth went dry.
Min was going to be wed? To this man?

  She couldn't. Wouldn't.

  But instinct as brutal as any body blow told him it was true.

  Taylor planted his feet on the ground. "I said—."

  Blake didn't wait for him to finish. Ferocious, blinding emotion took over. He grasped the blathering turd just above his ruff and squeezed. The frantic attempts of Taylor to remove Blake's fingers only fueled his anger.

  The door opened and Min stood there. She let out a strangled cry and ran at them. "Stop it! Blake, stop!" He let go. He was always going to. Probably. "What are you doing?"

  Taylor spluttered and rubbed his throat. He edged along the wall, away from Blake. "He tried to kill me," he croaked.

  "Yes," Min whispered, her wide eyes fixed on Blake, "I can see that."

  Blake caught her hands. "Look at me and tell me it's not true." She withdrew her hands and said nothing. He gripped her shoulders. "Tell me, Min!"

  She nodded. "It's true. Ned and I are to be married as soon as a special license can be bought."

  His hands dropped to his sides and the ground beneath his feet rocked. He pressed a hand against the wall for balance and found he was doubling over to catch his breath too. His chest hurt. Everything hurt.

  "Are you all right?" Min asked, inching closer.

  "No." He straightened and their gazes locked. Until she looked away. "Why are you marrying him? Is your father forcing you?"

  She shook her head and rubbed her arms. The maid emerged from the house and drew Min to her. The pleading eyes she turned on Blake were red and swollen. Min's were dry as they stared at the wall.

  Despite the audience, he had to ask Min a vital question. One he almost couldn't speak. "Are you..." He swallowed and tried again. "Are you in love with him?"

  A short distance away, Ned snorted.

  She squared her shoulders. "No. But love and marriage rarely go together, don't you think?"

  "No. I think it's possible to have both. My parents were a fine example." He wanted to reach for her, hold her, kiss her all over and make her see sense. But he didn't think she'd want his kisses at that moment. "And I think you, Min, agree with me."