Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series)

by Marie Higgins

  “As I suspected. How much do you need? I’ll gladly help since you have been so trustworthy to watch over my lovely Isabelle.”

  Mrs. Winter’s smile widened and her cheeks turned pink. “Thank you, my lord. It was a privilege to be Isabelle’s companion. She’s a lovely woman, to be sure.”

  “Indeed.”

  “And I especially took special care of her when our stagecoach was attacked by that ruthless highwayman, Captain Hawk.”

  He froze, keeping his gaze locked with the older woman’s. She was claiming to have taken care of Isabelle? What was the old hag’s game? Why did she lie? Then again, she figured Lord Lockwood wouldn’t know the truth.

  “And you should be paid double, Mrs. Winters. I’m still amazed the passengers were freed without any harm.”

  “Oh, to be sure.” She placed a hand on her chest and sighed. “That wicked highwayman could have done horrid things.”

  “Indeed. I’ve not heard good stories about him.”

  She glanced toward the door as a mischievous grin pulled at her mouth. She stood, walked to the door and closed it before turning back to him. Unease washed over him, putting him on guard.

  “Forgive me, my lord, but I needed to make our conversation private.”

  He nodded. “Proceed.”

  When she returned to sit, she chose a chair closer to his and leaned forward. “I apologize for not delivering the dagger.”

  His heart picked up speed as he gripped the arm rests. “Pardon me?”

  “Mr. Tubble had instructed me in his letter to bring the dagger to you, but then Captain Hawk attacked our stagecoach. Isabelle had snatched the dagger before we were taken prisoner, but she didn’t know about the hidden message.” She shook her head. “I fear everything that happened during the attack made her lose the dagger in the process.”

  Shock vibrated through him, bringing him out of the chair. He couldn’t think straight, and needed a stiff drink. As he walked toward the liquor tray, his mind pieced together what he’d heard. But the more the conversation fit together, the more his heart sank.

  Isabelle wasn’t the spy. Instead, her companion held the title. That must be why the men at the tavern thought Isabelle was the spy instead of Mrs. Winters.

  How could that be? Unless, of course, the older woman hadn’t been spying for very long and wasn’t good at it. The message hidden in the dagger needed protection, so then why did Mrs. Winters not take care of it better?

  He shook his head, not believing any of this. How could he? He’d purposely hardened his heart against Isabelle when he discovered the dagger’s secret. Now he learned he had misjudged her.

  Oh, no! To think he’d hurt her because of his mistake in identity.

  But now… He turned toward Mrs. Winters and gulped his whiskey. Why did the old woman bring this information to him? There was only one reason. His brother had been in on it, too. In the missives Hawk had collected during his takeovers, a few men’s names were mentioned as possible traitors—men going against the Crown to steal some sort of hidden treasure. But was it treasure at all? Or could it just be information?

  He cleared his throat. “Tell me, Mrs. Winters, do you know for certain if Captain Hawk has the dagger?”

  “I cannot be sure, my lord. Isabelle had it one day then the next day it was gone. She didn’t know what happened to it.”

  He marched to the woman and glared. Her eyes widened as she sat back in her chair, clutching at her throat.

  “Does my wife know about any of this—about the dagger?”

  “N—no, not that I suspect. I kept the truth from her the whole time.”

  “So she doesn’t know of my involvement?”

  “No, my lord.”

  His heart twisted in agony once more. How could he have jumped to conclusions so quickly and thought Isabelle a spy? Self-hatred swept over him, and he wanted to drink himself into oblivion. Hawk had wanted her until he knew she was a spy. All this time, Hawk could have been blissfully happy with Isabelle by his side. He wouldn’t have returned to New York, but would have contented himself in living the rest of his days with Isabelle in his hideout while they basked in their love.

  Sucking in a quick breath, he turned away from Mrs. Winters.

  Love? Was that the emotion tightening his chest whenever he thought of Isabelle? He knew he wanted her desperately. He never wanted to be apart from her. Holding her forever was all he could think about.

  By Jove, he did love her!

  “Lord Lockwood?”

  He rubbed his forehead, not wanting to deal with the older woman now. He must get rid of her quickly.

  He turned back to her and nodded. “Then let us hope the highwayman doesn’t have this information.”

  “We will know at the end of the month.”

  He froze. The three men at the Black Dragon also spoke of something happening at the end of the month. All right, so perhaps he should not get rid of her yet. “We will?”

  “Yes. The shipment is coming then. You should warn the men to be alert for anything suspicious.”

  “That, I will.”

  “We cannot have our plans ruined this soon. Our very lives will be at stake.”

  How he wished he knew what the old woman yapped about. He couldn’t ask for fear she would become curious of him.

  “Very true, Mrs. Winters.” He took another drink. “What say you to this plan… I would like you to take on the responsibility of sending everyone a note. I’d like a meeting soon to see where we all stand.”

  She puffed her chest, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Oh yes, my lord. It will be my privilege to help.”

  “Excellent. Then I know all shall be taken care of.”

  “When would you like the meeting?”

  “Right before the shipment. Perhaps a day before.”

  “I will do it.” She stood and curtsied. “Thank you, my lord. Our meeting has been most successful.”

  “Indeed, it has.” He lifted the glass as if in a toast. Their conversation had enlightened him greatly.

  He waited for her to leave before he gulped down the remaining whiskey. Although anticipation ran rampant through him, knowing he was closer to figuring out what a few members of the Royal Navy were doing, his thoughts quickly turned to his wife. She hated Hawk, and rightly so. He didn’t do anything to help that cause. So, as much as he wanted her forgiveness, at this point, he could not worry about that.

  Now, all he wanted was to see his beautiful wife. He did love her, and heaven help him, he enjoyed the burst of excitement in his chest. But as much as he wanted to see her at this moment and confess his feelings, he needed to talk to Gabe about this new information.

  * * * *

  Isabelle didn’t know if she was blissfully happy or not. Being intimate with her husband was a dream-come-true, and although she’d promised herself not to let her heart get involved, she knew it would be hard. The way he kissed her and whispered words of love made her realize how much she wanted to hear that—how much she longed to love someone and be loved the same in return.

  Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would marry such a tender, robust man. And to think her father actually wanted Lord Lockwood for her husband.

  Once again, her thoughts stalled as doubt snuck in. Why had Marcus signed the marriage betrothal? He couldn’t have been that greedy for the money her father had promised him. Obviously, Lord Lockwood knew her father, so he must have known how deceitful the older man had handled his business affairs.

  She paced the floor in her bedroom, her mind jumping with doubt and confusion. There were wealthier women here in New York who would have gladly married Marcus. So why her? He’d never met her, only her father. Why did he agree to sign a contract if there was nothing in it for him?

  She stopped by the window and looked out on the front lawn. Several couples strolled by, obviously enjoying the pleasant weather. It would do her good to get outside, too. Perhaps clear her head. But the only way her questio
ns would be answered was by talking to Marcus. Would he tell her the truth?

  Then again, did she want to know the truth? Since coming to New York, her life had been one turbulent wave after another. And now, contentment settled inside her. If ignorance was bliss, she would happily remain this way for the rest of her life.

  Unfortunately, she’d never been one to let things lie. The unanswered questions would haunt her until she thought of nothing else. Deep down, she knew she must discover the truth. Even if it meant disrupting her life.

  In a rush, she dressed for the day. Once completed with her toiletry, Isabelle hurried downstairs. Gentry walked by, so she stopped him.

  “I hope you can help me,” she implored.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Can you tell me the name of my husband’s secretary? I desperately need to talk to him about an important matter.”

  Gentry nodded. “The man’s name is Hayes. David Hayes. His office is on Sixth Avenue.”

  “Thank you, Gentry.” She smiled. “You have been most helpful. Could you please have my coach brought around? I have errands to run.”

  “Certainly.”

  While waiting, she paced the floor, wringing her hands. She prayed Marcus’ secretary would give her the answers she sought. Her palms grew moist as worry pulsed through her. What if she discovered something awful? Then again, from what she’d heard thus far about her father, what could be worse?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Marcus wore a permanent smile as he walked down the street toward Thorne Shipping. His wife fulfilled him beyond reason.

  And he loved her completely.

  Several people greeted him, and he tipped his hat, giving them a nod. When his name was shouted from across the street, he turned and scanned the crowd, trying to find who tried to gain his attention. A portly older gentleman waved one hand while the other held his tricorn on his head. The man’s large belly and double chin jiggled with each hurried step as he hustled across the street toward Marcus.

  “Lockwood,” the man huffed, stopping in front of Marcus. “I’m relieved I caught you before you moved on.”

  Marcus nodded. “As am I.”

  The man’s chest rose and fell in a quick rhythm, his cheeks pink with exertion. While he fought to regain his breathing, another person walked by and smiled.

  “Good day, Lord Lockwood. Mr. Tubble.”

  Marcus almost laughed. The man’s last name fit his size, to be sure. But the name seemed familiar for some reason. Where had he heard it before?

  Once the greeter passed, Marcus focused back on Mr. Tubble. “What can I do for you, my good man?”

  Tubble linked his fingers across his large mid-section and raised a critical eyebrow. “Ye missed the meeting the other night. We wondered what happened to ye.”

  Marcus folded his arms. It appeared this must be one of the men his brother had been involved with. “Indeed, I did miss the meeting. Haven’t you heard? I have recently married.”

  The man’s face reddened, his eyes widening. “Oh, no. I hadn’t heard about your nuptials. Forgive me for not congratulating you, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Tubble.”

  The portly man stepped closer and leaned forward. “The SOL will have another meeting tonight. Will you be able to make it?”

  Confusion filled Marcus. SOL? He didn’t want to ask and sound foolish. “Of course, Mr. Tubble. Tell me where and I shall attend.”

  “It will be at Donnelley’s old estate, just down the street from Meadowbrook Lane.”

  Marcus nodded. “Yes, I know where that is.” All though he didn’t, he would eventually.

  “Splendid. I shall see you then.”

  “Yes, you shall.”

  As the portly man walked away, Marcus repeated the man’s name in his head. He’d heard it before, but couldn’t recall.

  The rest of the way toward Thorne Shipping, he hashed over everything he’d learned so far about his brother’s life, which wasn’t a lot. Besides having a different woman almost every night, Matthew was a gambler and a drunk. He didn’t seem to have many good friends, either.

  The more Marcus strove to decipher his brother’s secrets, the more Isabelle’s face disturbed his thoughts. Her kisses mesmerized him and put him under a spell he had no wish to leave. Since meeting the very intriguing woman, his plans for revenge had slipped further away. Now all he wanted to do was make her happy.

  As he stepped into his office, he swiped the wig off his head and shrugged out of his colorful overcoat. Mr. Harvey hurried out of his room then stopped suddenly. His eyes widened as the man’s gaze swept over Marcus. He could only image what thoughts ran through his friend’s mind. The same kind Marcus had when seeing his brother for the first time.

  “Mr. Thorne?”

  Marcus smiled. “Right you are, my good man.” He threw his wig and coat on the desk then splayed his arms out in front of him. “Do you like my new look?”

  “Uh… well, Sir…”

  “Please, be honest.” Marcus chuckled. “Actually, I’ve changed my look because I have a new name.”

  Mr. Harvey arched his brows. “A new name?”

  “Yes. My brother died, leaving me a title. I’m now Viscount Lockwood.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Has a nice ring, does it not?”

  His friend’s jaw dropped and Marcus nearly laughed. He walked to his friend and clapped him on the shoulder. “No need to worry. I’m only wearing these outrageous clothes so I can fit into my brother’s world.”

  “Ah—” Mr. Harvey nodded. “That certainly explains things.”

  “However, you must address me as Lockwood. And, if anyone asks—” he lowered his voice, “—I’m not Mr. Thorne, owner of Thorne Shipping. I’m Lord Lockwood, owner of Thorne Shipping.”

  “I’ve heard a few things about Lord Lockwood. He’s very wealthy.”

  “You’ve heard right, my good man.” Marcus grinned wide. “In fact, I shall give you a raise just to prove how wealthy he—I mean I am.”

  Mr. Harvey’s jaw dropped again. This time, Marcus did laugh. “Not only that, but I’m giving you the rest of the day off. Go home and enjoy it with your family.”

  The man’s face flamed as it stretched into a smile. “Oh, this is good news, indeed.” He rushed to Marcus and shook his hand. “You’re a very generous man. Thank you.”

  A while after Mr. Harvey had left, Marcus still chuckled. Apparently, he hadn’t been an attentive employer before. So had wealth changed him? Or had his wife?

  He finally settled at his desk and read over the statements of the shipping company. Business was good. Life was better. Grinning, he leaned back in his chair and linked his fingers over his stomach. How long had it been since he’d been this happy and content? Quite a while, to be sure.

  Then again, had he ever experienced this kind of elation? Growing up, he always longed for the attention of his absent father. After his mother died, Marcus made it a goal to make his sire proud. Marcus’ health had improved, and as he grew, he set out to learn all he could, to educate himself properly. He knew his twin had attended the best schools, and it hurt Marcus to know his father hadn’t sent him there.

  The life he’d known all came to a crashing end when Marcus traveled to visit his father for the first time after all the years he’d been absent from their country home. Shock was a mild word for the emotion he received upon being greeted by his father’s butler. Marcus had introduced himself, but the butler accused him of lying. Marcus demanded to speak to his father at once. The butler hurried into the house, leaving Marcus on the doorstep. Several minutes later, the servant returned, wearing a smug grin. He informed Marcus that Lord Blackstone denounced ever having a second son and that if he showed his face on the earl’s estates again, the law would be summoned.

  Marcus waited a week before attempting to see his father again. Anger guided him as he secretly followed his sire around town, learning what his father did and whom he met with. One night, Marcus witnessed
his father kill another nobleman in a dark alley. So shocked, Marcus gasped, drawing attention to himself. Before he could run, his father caught his arm and bade him to return to the house, begging to explain what had happened. Marcus obeyed.

  Now his father seemed different. More friendly. The old man acted eager to learn of his son’s life. Marcus knew this wasn’t right, so he watched his father closely to see what the man was up to. It was then that Marcus saw his father pour something in his teacup and offer it to him. Marcus didn’t need to ask. He suspected his father was trying to poison him. When his father wasn’t looking, he poured the tea on a nearby plant then quickly made excuses to leave. He explained he wasn’t feeling well, and his father let him go, wearing a smile of victory.

  Marcus had left his father’s property with a broken heart for the second time. From that point on, Marcus vowed he’d have nothing to do with Lord Blackstone again.

  That was when Benjamin Ludlow entered his life. Marcus, still in his youth and thin as a rail, met Ludlow on the docks. They struck a conversation and, desperate for a Father figure, Marcus decided to sail the waters with the kind man, never knowing the stranger was the fearsome pirate, Captain Hawk who was looking for someone to replace him.

  The office door opened, pulling Marcus from his memories. Gabe walked in and grinned.

  “There you are,” his friend greeted. “I have some news.”

  “As do I. You go first.”

  Marcus closed the door and stepped to Marcus’ desk, resting his palms on top. “Your brother was in a secret society of men called the Sons Of Liberty. I met one of the men your brother associates with at the Black Dragon. Did you know the secret password to get any information is Lockwood sent me?”

  Marcus tilted back his head and laughed. “Are you jesting?”

  “That’s all I said.” Gabe shrugged. “Then again, the men were into their cups a little more than they should be at this time of the day.”

  Shaking his head, Marcus smiled. “I think they live there.”

  “Perhaps.” Gabe straightened. “Now, what’s your news?”

  As Marcus opened his mouth to speak, the information of what his friend had just given him sank in, making things more clear in his head. He pushed away from the desk and stood. “I think we’ve both discovered the same thing, my good man. I talked with Mr. Tubble today and he mentioned the meeting with the SOL. I had no idea what the man referred to, but now I know. SOL means Sons Of Liberty.”