Lord of Fortune

by Darcy Burke

  She cupped his head, her fingers digging into his scalp as her low cry cloaked him with seductive promise. He slipped his hand beneath her night rail once more, skimming over her thigh to find her core. She was wet and ready for him, her flesh silky and warm and so inviting.

  He brought his head up and brushed his lips against hers. “I want to bury myself inside you.” He stroked his finger inside her, and she let out a soft moan.

  Her hands fell to his shoulders, and she pulled back slightly. “No.”

  He blinked, his ardor cooling at the sound of her denial. “Is something wrong?”

  She swallowed as she pulled her hands to her lap. “Yes. We need to talk.”

  Chapter 15

  The tightness in her throat was almost unbearable as Amelia worked to keep the tears at bay. She’d been so glad to see him, then he’d kissed her, and she’d been lost. But she couldn’t allow them to continue as if her husband hadn’t reentered her life today.

  “Yes, I suppose we should.” He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it to a terribly attractive degree. He smelled of late summer berries carried on the wind and tasted of sharp whiskey. He was a feast for her senses, and she nearly lost the battle to keep her emotions in check.

  His face was grim. “I didn’t find the vicar. But Egg is after him, and I expect he’ll find him tomorrow or the next day.”

  He thought she wanted to hear about the earldom, about what had happened downstairs after she’d left. Good, perhaps that would give her a moment to settle her nerves. “How is Kersey?”

  Penn shook his head, blinking with disbelief. “It’s the damnedest thing, his reaction wasn’t nearly what I would’ve expected. I daresay he took it better than I did, which I never would have guessed.”

  “Perhaps he didn’t want you to see how deeply he’s affected.”

  “I suspect that may be it. Egg is going to stop the vicar—and I’m going to ensure Gideon is the earl.”

  He sounded so confident. She almost believed that he could do anything by sheer force of will. But of course, not everything could be fixed. “Why didn’t you go with him?”

  He cocked his head to the side, his lips tilting into a half smile. “I should think that would be obvious. Because I prefer to be here with you, to continue our quest.”

  If only it was just the quest. But it was more than that. And it was more than just wanting him, though she did—desperately. She was in love with him. The realization burned and brought the tears back up her throat.

  She swallowed convulsively and took a deep breath. “I have to tell you about the man we met today.”

  His eyes lit with interest. “Yes! I forgot entirely. I want to hear all about that.” He stepped forward, reclaiming the space they’d shared a few moments ago. “After. First, I want to take you in my arms.”

  He leaned forward, and her heart fairly beat from her chest as she slid to the side, evading his touch. “He’s my husband.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to keep from crumpling into a terrible mess.

  He pivoted toward her, his thigh pressed against the bed. He blinked, his long, dark lashes, briefly masking the intensity of his cobalt gaze. “Pardon me?”

  Amelia took another deep breath, but it didn’t really help. Her heart seemed to crash even harder against her rib cage. “The man we met today was my husband.”

  “I thought your husband was dead.” His voice was low and full of gravel.

  “He left five years ago. I never thought to see him again.”

  “He sent you that note?”

  “He must have, though I didn’t recognize the hand.”

  Penn’s tone was even and sure, giving her no clue what was going on in his head. “So he knew we had the heart.”

  She nodded slowly. “Somehow. I don’t know. He’s a member of the Camelot group.”

  Penn bent and retrieved his shirt. When he’d pulled it over his head, he perched at the end of the bed, far away from her. “Tell me everything. How you met, why you married, why he left.”

  Now he sounded coldly angry, but she didn’t blame him. “We met at an assembly in Bath. It was a rather short courtship—just a few weeks.” He was the first man who’d paid her attention, and he was handsome and charming and in possession of a decent income. “My father endorsed the union, and we wed.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “That’s it?”

  “What do you want to hear, that I fell madly in love with him? I thought I had. Now I know—” She’d been about to say she knew the difference. But she wouldn’t burden him with her feelings. “Now I know better. It was infatuation. I was young and foolish.”

  “Yet your father allowed you to wed, so he must have had something to recommend him. You say he left you because of debt?”

  “That’s what I thought. He gave me the impression today that wasn’t true. Or perhaps he went into debt on purpose. I know there were creditors—they took everything.”

  “Or they weren’t really creditors, and they simply took his things to wherever he went.”

  Amelia’s jaw dropped. She’d never imagined such cruelty, such viciousness. And yet seeing him today, she realized it was not just possible, but likely. “That is probably true.” Foolish didn’t begin to describe how she felt.

  His gaze softened. “I’m so sorry, Amelia. You say he’s a member of the Camelot group. Everything we know about them says they’re ruthless in the extreme. Is it possible he courted you to gain access to your grandfather?”

  She thought back, and shame engulfed her. “Grandfather never liked him, and my father changed his opinion too. They didn’t think he was good enough for me. I never thought he’d come back. I certainly hoped he wouldn’t. I planned to have him declared dead so that I could truly be a widow.”

  “But he’s not dead, and he wants the heart. Did he bring the book to trade, or was that a lure to get you there?”

  “He didn’t bring it.”

  “I wouldn’t expect that he did. I wouldn’t have gone to this meeting. I would have gone and watched to ascertain who showed up, then I would have developed a plan.” He stood up from the bed. “Which changes nothing, of course. Your husband is very much alive and has apparently been watching you. I wonder for how long?”

  Nausea swirled in her gut. To think Thaddeus had been spying on her all this time made her ill.

  “That was a rhetorical question,” he said. “I can see how distressed you are, and I’m sorry for it. I wish you’d told me the truth about this. Why didn’t you?” He looked hurt and upset, and she longed to smooth the lines away from his forehead and kiss the tension from his mouth.

  “I didn’t think it mattered. I thought he was gone forever—maybe even dead,” she said hopefully. “I certainly never imagined he would turn up in this fashion.” She stood and smoothed her night rail down. “I don’t know how we continue from here. I thought I would be free—”

  She stopped. They’d confessed nothing, promised nothing. And yet it felt as though they had. To her, at least. She had no idea what was in his mind.

  “But you are not.”

  Penn picked up his waistcoat and shrugged it on, then he scooped up his coat and cravat, draping them over his left arm. He gave her a smile that was devoid of humor and full of sadness and regret. “Here I thought being an earl was the worst thing that could happen to me. Turns out I was wrong.”

  Anguish tore at her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth lest she allow a sob to escape. She blinked against tears.

  “Don’t cry, Amelia,” he said softly. “You couldn’t have known. Anyway, I’m a traveler, a man without a true home. I am, unlike you, eternally free, and that’s the way I like it. God willing, I’ll get to continue that way, and Gideon will be the earl.” He inhaled sharply and straightened his shoulders.

  “In the meantime,” he continued, “we’ll devise a plan to recover the book and solve the cipher to find the real heart. Then our association will hav
e reached its fruitful end.”

  Amelia wasn’t sure how she could go back to the life she’d led before she’d met Penn. She didn’t want to. But Thaddeus had given her no other choice. Thaddeus might even try to reclaim his marital rights. Dread pooled in her belly, and she had to work to keep herself from completely falling apart.

  Somehow, she found her voice, though it was wobbly at best. “Yes, we will. I’m sorry, Penn. I wish things were different.” So badly she wished they were different.

  He nodded but didn’t say another word before he left, closing the door behind him with a soft click that reverberated in her chest like a physical blow. Then she went thoroughly and horribly to pieces.

  * * *

  The night passed even worse than the previous. Penn had barely slept, and now that it was morning, he simultaneously yearned to see Amelia and wasn’t sure he could bear it. Knowing her husband was alive and involved in their quest filled him with anger and despair. He’d wondered at what kind of future he and Amelia might have with the life he led, but all that was moot now that he knew she was still wed. They had no future.

  And neither did the life he enjoyed. The moment he’d learned he was an earl, he’d felt doomed. Making Amelia his countess would have been a shining beacon, transforming a disaster into something he could not only tolerate but maybe, just maybe, anticipate.

  However, he couldn’t take a wife who was already married.

  A voice in the back of his mind reminded him of Septon—a baron who openly lived with his mistress who was married to someone else. Had been married to someone else. Penn wondered if they would marry and, if so, would it change how Society viewed them? Septon wasn’t entirely ostracized, but he also wasn’t accepted amongst the most elite. Lady Stratton, however, had been almost universally shunned. She never went to London and nearly the only social gatherings she attended were the ones she hosted with Septon. Could Amelia be content with a life like that if they chose to be together in spite of her marriage?

  Disgust roiled in his gut. He couldn’t ask her to do that.

  And what of your children, another voiced asked, they would be bastards. That hadn’t been an issue for Septon and Lady Stratton as they hadn’t had children. Penn had every reason to expect he and Amelia might. He couldn’t do that to them.

  The dismal thoughts churned in his mind as he made his way to the dining room. His parents were already seated as he walked to his chair.

  “You don’t look as if you slept very much,” his mother said worriedly. “I’m sorry about everything on your mind.” She’d always done her best to ease Penn’s troubles, and he imagined it was difficult for her to see him in distress. He wouldn’t tell her that she didn’t even know the half of it.

  Gideon came in then, and Penn was saved from having to respond. His cousin—no, his half brother—took the chair opposite Penn’s. He looked slightly better than Penn felt, which wasn’t saying much.

  The only open space left was next to Penn, which meant Amelia would sit beside him. He tensed as he awaited her arrival. And then she was there, garbed in a peach-colored gown with a wide, cream-colored sash. She looked fresh and lovely, and his heart ached at the sight of her.

  Her gaze landed on the vacant chair to his left, and her reaction was barely detectable—just a slight flaring of her nostrils and parting of her lips. He knew her well enough to recognize her discomfort. He also knew her well enough to conclude that she would rise above it.

  Penn, his father, and Gideon stood as she made her way to her seat, and Penn held her chair while she situated herself at the table.

  “Good morning,” Mother said with a warm smile. “I trust you slept well.”

  “Fine, thank you,” Amelia said evenly. At this distance, Penn could see the faint streaks of purple beneath her eyes. She was a decent liar.

  Thomas served as footman this morning, piling their plates from the sideboard with the items they chose from the offerings. When he was finished, they began to tuck in. It was Gideon who spoke first as he picked up his fork.

  “I think I have a good plan for obtaining the book.”

  All eyes turned to him. Penn was eager for something to take his mind off the bleak prospect of his future. “Let’s hear it.”

  Gideon shot Penn an anxious glance. “Just bear with me while I lay it out. We know where the book is—at a house outside Glastonbury, which is where Foliot has an estate. I’d wager this house is on the estate. Foliot likes to keep his people close. I’ve stayed with him on several occasions.”

  “That’s useful,” Penn said, suspecting where Gideon might be heading and not liking it one bit.

  “The man in possession of the book—Thaddeus—we can distract him and steal the book—”

  Penn dropped his utensils. “No.” Gideon had gone precisely where he’d feared. “She’s not doing that.”

  “Who?” Penn’s father, seated at the end of the table to Penn’s right looked from Penn to Gideon and back to Penn again.

  “Me,” Amelia said. She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin before continuing. “Thaddeus is my husband.” She paused, registering the exchanged look of surprise between Penn’s parents, but only briefly. “We weren’t married very long before he left me. I thought it was because of debt, but it seems he was tasked by the Camelot group to obtain the dagger—and anything else they might be able to learn—from my grandfather. When he wasn’t able to get anything, he left.”

  She gave her attention to Gideon. “I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”

  Penn angled toward her. “You can’t.”

  She turned her head to look at him. “Why not? He’s my husband. I’m the best—perhaps the only—person to distract him while you and Kersey steal it.”

  “She can take care of herself, Penn,” Gideon said. “She did shoot him after all.”

  Penn blinked at her, surprised but then not. She had come close to doing the same to Egg. “You did?”

  She nodded. “I actually wanted to hit him, not like when I missed Egg.”

  Penn almost smiled. “We would need to scout the place—if it’s too large, this won’t work.”

  “I propose we hire a hack in Glastonbury,” Gideon said. “I’ll pose as the coachman and deliver Mrs. Forrest to the house. While she distracts Mr. Forrest, Penn will sneak in and nab the book. When you have it, come to the coach, and we’ll signal for Mrs. Forrest to leave. She’ll come out to tell me—the coachman—I can leave, but in actuality, she’ll leave with me. And you. And the book.”

  “Well, that sounds rather neat and tidy,” Father said. “I was going to offer to come along, but what role would I play?”

  That earned him a reproachful stare from Mother.

  “I think we can handle it,” Gideon said with a slight smile. “If Penn is in agreement. It seems as though Mrs. Forrest is up to the task.”

  Amelia nodded. “I am.”

  Penn had executed exercises such as this before, but never when it would endanger someone other than Egg. And never when it would endanger the woman he loved. Yes, he loved her. Beyond expectation. Beyond reason. He couldn’t put her at risk, even if she could take care of herself.

  He abruptly stood and looked down at Amelia. “May we take a walk, please?”

  She blinked up at him, her green eyes brilliant in the morning sun streaming through the windows. Without answering, she rose, and he moved to pull her chair back for her.

  He glanced at the table. “Please excuse us.”

  Gideon looked up at him, but only briefly before going back to his breakfast. His parents, on the other hand, watched them depart the dining room.

  Penn escorted her to the back of the house and into the morning room, through which they exited into the yard. He didn’t stop there, but motioned for her to walk with him toward the wood where he went to think.

  “Are we going to your lean-to?” she asked, surprising him.

  He stopped and turned toward her. “Yes. How do you know about t
hat?”

  “I went there yesterday after you left. It’s an excellent place to go for reflection and solitude. But I suspect we aren’t going there for either, so why don’t you say what you want to say right here?”

  She was angry. He could feel the emotion rising off her in waves. Well, he was angry too. And scared and so frustrated at his lack of control, he could scream. They were still in view of the house—if anyone went to the morning room—and that wouldn’t do.

  “Just please come with me?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips. “Fine, but I’m not changing my mind.”

  Chapter 16

  The coolness of the tree canopy was a welcome balm to the irritation rioting through her. Amelia didn’t stop her purposeful march until she reached the lean-to, where she turned and crossed her arms over her chest. Her body, taut as a drum, hummed with myriad emotions—anger, frustration, hurt. And determination.

  “You aren’t changing my mind.” It bore repeating.

  He came into the lean-to and put his hands on his hips. “You can’t do this.”

  “I can’t?”

  He blew out a breath. “You can, but you shouldn’t. A thousand things could go wrong, and we’ve no idea what Forrest is capable of. You shot him—why didn’t you tell me you shot him?” He didn’t wait for her response before saying, “Clearly, you thought him a threat.”

  “I didn’t keep it from you on purpose. Last night was…difficult.” If she thought about it too deeply, she’d lose herself again. Her emotions were far too close to the surface. “He had two men with him, and it was just Kersey and me. Kersey took on the other two while I distracted Thaddeus. He tried to take the heart, and it fell. I didn’t want him to get it, so I shot him in the arm.”

  Penn stared at her a long moment. “I don’t want you to do this. We can’t control the situation when you’re alone with him. I don’t like it.” He clenched his jaw. “Unless you’re considering going back to him.”