Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series)

by Marie Higgins

  He gathered his disguise and hurried out of the house. His stallion was ready for him, and he mounted and rode fast to the shipping office. Once inside, he changed into Hawk and placed the fake beard and mustache on his face. The other day, he’d found a wig he could use as Hawk since the hair hung to his shoulders. This way Isabelle wouldn’t notice Hawk’s cropped off locks. Using the back door, he proceeded to go to the abandoned office and ready the area. He closed the curtains on the windows, grumbling when sunlight still came through. He couldn’t make it totally dark, but the darker the better, anyway.

  Marcus checked his timepiece. Only a few minutes before her arrival. His heartbeat quickened and he searched the room for the darkest corner. When the door handle rattled, he froze, holding his breath as he watched the door.

  Isabelle walked through and closed the door. Her attention swept the room until it rested on him. He couldn’t yet tell if she was upset, only because her bonnet shadowed her eyes. “Isabelle,” he said in his deep captain’s voice.

  “Captain Hawk.” As she stepped closer, she removed her bonnet, keeping it clutched against her middle. Her gaze swept over him. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Still, no sign of recognition lit her face, and he grinned. “You are looking beautiful, Isabelle. Might I assume married life is working for you?”

  She stopped in front of him and nodded. “It is.”

  “Good to hear.” He folded his arms across his chest. “So why the urgency to meet me today?”

  “I thought you might like to know I’m… I’m the spy you were asking about the last time we spoke.”

  A gasp sprang to his throat before he could stop it. Why was she telling him this? And why, pray, was she lying? Mrs. Winters clearly informed him Isabelle didn’t know anything about the dagger or the Sons Of Liberty. Confusion settled in his chest, but he tried to put the emotion aside until he heard her excuse. “Why tell me now?”

  “Because you hinted that you would like to join forces with me.” She stepped closer and laid a hand on his chest. “I’m scared of being discovered. I need your protection.”

  He narrowed his gaze, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Why me? Why not your husband?”

  “I haven’t told him. I don’t wish to tell him. I want to keep this secret between us.”

  Silently, he groaned. Why did she act in such a way toward a man she promised to hate? Last night she confessed to loving her husband, so why was she being so distrustful now?

  She stroked her soft hands over his chest, her gaze dropping to watch. “You have to tell me what to do, Hawk.”

  A twinge of desire budded inside him, and he cursed his weakness. He did this every time she touched him. He grabbed her shoulders to push her away, but she let out a low sob and leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. The bonnet dropped to the floor as she clutched his shirt.

  Her breath against his skin sent heat rushing everywhere. Jealousy crept inside his heart as he held her against his body. Why would she do this when only last night she had loved her husband so tenderly?

  “I don’t know what to tell you to do, Isabelle,” he whispered as he brushed his lips across her forehead.

  She moved her head back and forth, and at first he thought she was going to say something, but soon her mouth swept over his shirt, leaving kisses along the path.

  He should be furious and push her away. She was married, yet doing this to Hawk. But he wasn’t Marcus right now, and Hawk wanted her badly.

  Groaning, he clutched her head, threading his fingers through her sun-kissed chestnut hair. “Isabelle, why are you doing this?”

  “Oh, Hawk. Being with you,” she murmured, nuzzling her nose against his chest, “has made me realize how much I’ve missed you.”

  She tilted her head to look into his eyes and smiled. “I think you have missed me, as well.”

  “I shouldn’t, my dove.”

  “I shouldn’t, either.” She lowered her head and kissed his chest again. “But I cannot stop myself.”

  He turned her and pinned her to the wall as his mouth devoured hers, kissing her wildly. She answered with urgent kisses of her hands moved under his shirt. Her fingers brushed the scab from where she’d plunged the knife in his body. Gently, she stroked him, almost apologetically.

  He loved the way she touched him, even when her palms slid over his arms to his neck. In one swift movement, she yanked off his mask and wig. Shocked, he looked at her. Narrowed eyes focused on him, anger shooting from their depths. Before he could collect his thoughts, she ripped off his beard and mustache. Victory gleamed in her stare.

  “What a surprise. It’s my dear husband, after all.”

  * * * *

  Isabelle’s uneven breaths whooshed out as she glared into Marcus’ wide eyes. She wanted to hate him. She did hate him. But at this particular moment, she just wanted answers.

  She didn’t say anything, letting the statement sink in to his thick skull. Soon, his wide eyes dimmed and a frown took over his face. Guilt ate his expression, for which she was glad. Still, she wanted to scream at him for lying to her.

  He straightened and pulled away. Emptiness consumed her quickly, and heaven help her, she wanted him back in her arms.

  “How did you figure it out?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Tears gathered in her eyes. “I should have known all along. Ever since meeting Lord Lockwood, I’d compared him to Hawk no matter what he did. I thought it was because I couldn’t stop loving Hawk.” She wiped a stray tear. “Then this afternoon I met your father. He called you Matthew. When I questioned him, he was appalled you’d use your dead brother’s name.” She shrugged. “I suppose then was when I started putting stories together. I remember when Hawk told me about his childhood. Strange, but Marcus had the same youth.”

  She met his stare with a scowl. “Tell me the truth now. Are you Matthew or Marcus?”

  “I’m Marcus.”

  “Why does your father think you’re dead?”

  “You don’t remember the story? He always thought of me as the weaker son. When I tried to present myself at his doorstep all those years later, he turned me away.” He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “Also, I didn’t tell you about what else my father did. He tried to kill me.” She gasped, but he continued. “I saw him murder a man, and he tried to make it right by killing me so I couldn’t tell. Not long after that, I became a pirate and then a highwayman, seeking revenge against men like him.”

  Her heart tugged once again, but she couldn’t allow herself to feel sorry for him. What he’d done to her was unforgivable. “So where is Matthew?”

  “He’s dead.”

  She blinked as confusion filled her head again. “Why doesn’t your father think so?”

  Marcus took another deep breath and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “After Hawk set you free, I stepped back into my role as Marcus Thorne. I was told Viscount Lockwood had been asking about my ships. I decided to have him investigated. I don’t trust anybody, and since I’d never met Lord Lockwood, I didn’t know why he wanted to purchase a ship. Gabe was the one who discovered what a despicable man he was. Matthew had heard about his look-alike, and wanted to buy my shipping company so I could leave.” He turned his body toward her. “Matthew was about to kill me when I refused to let him buy my company. If Gabe hadn’t been spying, I’d be dead right now and you would have married my loathsome brother who I can promise, wouldn’t have treated you so kind and gentle.”

  He stroked her cheek, still frowning. She wanted to bat his hand away, but the sadness carved into his expression stopped her.

  “I’d forgotten you were betrothed to Lord Lockwood,” Marcus continued. “Until the day you arrived on my doorstep. At that point, I had decided to step into my brother’s role, which was legally mine now with my brother dead. I knew I’d learn more about the Royal Navy doing this.”

  “Why…” Her throat tightened and she cleared her throat, not
wanting to cry. “Why did you agree to marry me? When you were Hawk, you made it perfectly clear there was no room for me in your life.”

  “There wasn’t. But Marcus needed you.” He smiled and moved closer to her. “To be honest, the reason Hawk didn’t want you anymore was because I thought you was a spy for the Royal Navy.”

  She gasped and pushed his hand away. “You had asked me about that before, but I didn’t think you were serious.”

  “Do you remember the dagger? There was a message hidden in the handle. The day I realized I was falling in love with you was the day I discovered the hidden code. That’s when I had Gabe take you to New York. I didn’t want to love a spy.” He shrugged. “But I couldn’t stop loving you no matter how hard I fought it. When you came to Lord Lockwood to ask about the betrothal agreement, I knew I must marry you to keep you close. If you had secrets about the Royal Navy, I wanted to know them.”

  Pain throbbed in her skull as she tried to absorb all the information. Finally, Hawk’s actions that last day at his hideout made sense. The heartbreak was as real now as it had been back then. “Do you still think I’m the spy you were searching for?”

  “No. Mrs. Winters was the culprit. The day after we’d made love as husband and wife I discovered this. That’s when I knew how much I loved you. I wanted to tell you, but didn’t know if you felt the same.” He moved closer, sliding his arms around her waist. “Do you still love me? Could you ever forgive me?”

  The emotion in his voice tugged at her heart, and she silently cursed her body for responding. She couldn’t fall for his charm now. Not ever! He’d lied and had broken her trust.

  “Marcus, it’s not that easy.” She pushed away from him and stepped back. “You lied to me.” She shook her head. “When I found out my father had been deceiving me all those years, it broke my heart, but not as much as you have done. You purposely lied to me and made me believe I wasn’t good enough for Hawk.”

  “No.” He pulled her back into his arm. “I’m in love with you. Hawk is in love with you.” He kissed her mouth then buried his face in the curve of her neck. “Please forgive me. I cannot go on without you.”

  She forced herself to stay strong. His sweet-talk couldn’t sway her this time. She yanked away from him once again. “I’m sorry, Marcus, but I cannot. I need more time to think about this. You hurt me badly.” She picked up her bonnet and hurried out the door before he stopped her. Tears blurred her vision, and she moved quickly before he noticed. When she climbed in the carriage, she allowed herself to cry, not caring if she ever saw her husband again.

  * * * *

  Marcus stumbled through the front door several hours into the night. The many cups of rum he’d consumed made his vision unfocused. Unfortunately, it didn’t take away the pain in his chest. He couldn’t accept he’d lost the one—the only woman—he’d ever loved. He had no idea how to win her back. Was it even possible since he’d hurt her so much?

  Quietly as he possibly could, he walked toward the stairs. Before reaching his destination, the light from his study pulled him out of his thoughts. Somebody was there. Anger surged through him, and he marched down the hallway, pushed open the door and growled.

  His father sat at the desk sorting through papers. The urge to grasp the old man and throw him to the floor became tempting, so Marcus fisted his hands behind his back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Lord Blackstone’s gaze lifted, a scowl marring his face. “I’m trying to find evidence.”

  “Evidence for what, may I ask?”

  The old man huffed and struggled to his feet. “I was told some shocking information earlier this evening. I don’t want to believe it, so I’m going through your papers to try and prove the informant wrong.”

  Panic surged through Marcus, but the alcohol affect tried to push it aside. “What bit of information were you given?”

  His father’s gaze narrowed as fire practically shot from his eyes. Marcus knew. He’d seen this look on his father before. Lord Blackstone only looked at the sickly son this way.

  “I was told that you’re not my son, Matthew.” He hobbled toward him, his gaze darkening. “Are you?”

  Marcus chuckled drunkenly. “Do you mean to tell me you cannot tell the difference between your wonderful, obedient Matthew, and the son you loathed?”

  “Augh!” Lord Blackstone grasped Marcus’ shirt and shook him. “Curse you! Tell me now.”

  “What difference would it make?” Marcus sneered. “Either way, I’m Lord Lockwood. Either way, I now hold all the wealth from the title. Either way, I have accomplished making a fool out of my father—the very thing I’ve sought to do for all these years.”

  The old man gasped and released Marcus as if he were a roaring fire. Eyes wide, he stepped back. “Where is my son?”

  Marcus threw back his head and released an evil laugh. “Oh, my poor father. Your son is where you will end up eventually.” He stepped closer and glared. “In hell!” He took another step, causing the old man to retreat slowly. “Your wonderful son couldn’t stand having his twin brother in the same city, so he decided to do the gentlemanly thing and kill me. Fortunately, I have friends who watch my back, and so dearest Matthew was shot and killed instead.”

  Tears gathered in Blackstone’s eyes as he stumbled to the chair. He shook his head, clutching his cravat. “No. You’re lying.”

  Marcus chuckled and walked to his desk, glancing at the papers his father had been looking at. “Tell me, dear Father, who informed you of my identity? Matthew’ staff didn’t even know the difference after I had stepped in my new role. If they did, they didn’t say anything because they liked their new lord better.”

  “The person who told me doesn’t work for Matthew.”

  Looking toward his father, he arched an eyebrow. “Indeed? So who is this trusted informant?”

  “Someone who was just as shocked as I.” He stood again, his cane helping him. “Now the next question is, are you going to make me proud by following through with the plans for the Sons Of Liberty?”

  “What plans?”

  The old man titled his head. “You don’t know, do you?” He laughed. “Well, that makes this even better. Perhaps you’ll fall into the trap, as well.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  In three steps Marcus stood in front of his father, grabbed his shirt and shook him. “Tell me. What trap have you planned?”

  Slowly, a grin stretched across the old man’s face until a full-blown laugh shook his chest. The eerie sound grated on Marcus’ nerves.

  “You don’t deserve Lord Lockwood’s title,” his father spat.

  Marcus pushed his father away, roughly. “You never deserved the title of Father.” He shook his head. “You’ll never know everything you put me through as a child, making me feel worthless in your eyes just because I was sick. However, because of your treatment, I was determined to grow into a strapping man who’d make you eat your words. Thanks to your treatment, I have become a great man. I vowed revenge against my uncaring father and others like him, and my revenge has made me a wealthy man.”

  The older man’s face paled, all signs of humor disappeared. “It’s true then. You are the loathsome pirate and highwayman, Captain Hawk.”

  Once more, panic settled in Marcus’ chest as blood rushed to his throbbing head. Who could have told his father? He swallowed a gasp. Surely not Isabelle. No, she wouldn’t have been that careless no matter how upset she had been by his lies. So then who? What imbecile had informed his father about his secret life? That person would die tonight, if possible.

  “Loathsome? Aye, that I am.” Marcus closed the space between them and wrapped his fingers around the other man’s neck. “And I kill people who know about me whether they are family or not.”

  His father gulped. “You cannot kill me.”

  Marcus tightened his hold. “Watch me. As much hatred as you’ve instilled inside me these many years, I could break your neck in a second.”

  The
old man clawed at Marcus’ fingers, but he wouldn’t let go. The man deserved to die. Captain Hawk had been waiting for this opportunity for many years, and he squeezed a little harder. All his childhood memories rushed back, crippling his heart again. His father’s look of disdain, the irritation in his voice whenever he spoke to him, which wasn’t often, and the rude way he treated Marcus’ mother. All of this heartache could have been stopped a long time ago.

  His father’s face turned purple as he struggled to breathe. The old man’s body becoming limper by the second. Marcus didn’t care. He wanted to watch his sire dire a slow death.

  The soft pitter-patter of feet moved across the floor mere seconds before a soft hand touched his shoulder. “No, Marcus.”

  He glanced at Isabelle standing beside him. Worry etched in her eyes as she shook her head. “Please don’t kill him.”

  “You don’t understand. He doesn’t deserve to live. Captain Hawk cannot abide men like him.”

  She stroked his arm in a calming motion. “I know, but Captain Hawk doesn’t kill in cold blood. Remember?”

  Marcus stilled as he stared into her caring eyes. She was correct. She knew Hawk well. Isabelle slid her palm to his hand and pulled. He obeyed her silent command and released his father.

  Disgust ran through him as he dropped his hands and stepped back. His father gasped for air and stumbled toward the couch. Once he was seated, he chuckled and shook his head.

  “I’m surprised at you, Marcus.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “Indeed, you could have killed me with your bare hands, but you didn’t.”

  Marcus rolled his eyes. “I must have had an attack of scruples, because you deserve to die, old man.”

  “Perhaps.” His father’s gaze bounced to Isabelle. “Thank you, my dear. You saved my life.”

  Finally, Marcus realized what she wore. Standing next to him in her nightrail and wrapper, with her chestnut hair flowing freely over her shoulders and down her back, made an alluring silhouette. Had she heard the argument between him and his father? Was that why she came to help?