To Marry A Marquess (A Regency Romance)

by Teresa McCarthy

  The following day when Drake returned to Phoebe's townhouse, William met him in the hall with a swing of his sword. "You take a swing at his belly, me pirate! That will take care of the villain!"

  Drake grimaced, his mind trying to concentrate on finding the man in question. He had searched the clubs and gaming hells for Wendover, but the man had eluded him. He guessed the earl was hiding in a remote part of the city, or being bold as brass and biding his time in some elegant hotel in Town under an assumed name. The chances of finding the man were slim.

  Drake dodged William's jousts as Winston escorted him into the drawing room. Scampering feet followed him.

  Victoria had taken a morning ride with Phoebe and Sarah to visit an old governess. Winston insisted that they would be home within the hour. Furious that Victoria had left the premises with Wendover still at large, Drake decided to wait until the entourage returned.

  "Then you head for the neck!" William whirled past the fireplace. "Like this! See!" The boy dropped his sword to his side and scowled. "Are you listening to me? If you want to fight off the villain, you will have to learn some of my secrets."

  Drake had come to the realization that Wendover had said something to scare Victoria. A threat of some kind. He was sure of it. He would stay with her twenty-four hours a day if he had to.

  "Did you hear me?" William tugged on his arm, pressing his nose into Drake's face.

  "I have other things on my mind today, William." Drake glanced at the boy and smiled when he saw a trace of red gel on a pair of dimpled cheeks. "But I daresay, me pirate, is that some type of fruit I detect on your lips?"

  William squirmed out of his arms. "Well, um, yes. But I did not steal Cook's raspberry preserves. I only borrowed them."

  "I see."

  "Now, as I was saying," William replied, taking a seat beside Drake on the sofa. "We have to protect the princesses and all the treasures in this house."

  Drake thought to humor the boy. He was not about to leave the house anyway. "Hmmm, I know all about the princesses, but what about the treasures?"

  William snorted in disgust. "The treasures? What kind of pirate are ye if ye don't know about the treasures?"

  "I don't have to look for treasures, William. I have enough of my own."

  "Margueretta told me about your clocks. But all pirates seek treasures. And the treasure in this house is most val... lable."

  Drake leaned forward, his interest piqued. "You have a valuable treasure for me to see?"

  William planted his hands on his hips. "Of course."

  "And where do you keep this treasure?"

  "I don't have it with me," William said, chewing on his bottom lip. "I'm guarding it for Vicki. The treasure is in her bedchamber."

  Drake's eyes lit up with interest. "Her bedchamber?"

  "Top drawer."

  "What is it?"

  The boy's face spread into a mischievous smile. "Now, you are speaking like a pirate. The treasure is a ring with a big red jewel that shines when I put it by the candlelight."

  Drake shoulders tensed. A sinking feeling started growing in the pit of his stomach. "A ring?"

  "Yes, me pirate, a ring." William puffed out his chest, quite pleased with himself for the knowledge he had just bestowed upon his fellow conspirator. "But the villain might want that ring. So I must guard it with my sword and Cap'n Whitie."

  Drake rose from his seat. What was Victoria doing with a red ring? He hoped against all odds that it was not Nightham's. Had she been lying to him all this time? Had she stolen Nightham's ring? Had she been involved in his death? No, he told himself, she was not like Honoria. She was not.

  "Does she have the ring up there now?" he asked with deadly calm.

  William visibly gulped. "Well, the princess does not allow me to hold it. 'Tis a pirate's job to be sneaky."

  "Sneaky, indeed. The top drawer you say?"

  William grinned, grabbing his sword. "Shall I fetch it?"

  "Why don't you do that?" Drake replied flatly. "Be a good pirate and gather that treasure. But be careful not to be seen."

  "Aye matie." And William was off and running.

  After visiting Mrs. Weber, Phoebe's old governess, the women decided to stop at the milliner's, but Victoria feigned a headache and asked to be dropped off at home.

  Gray clouds hung overhead as she stepped out of the carriage and gazed down the street. A brisk breeze whipped the dark brown hat off Mrs. Mellows, the housekeeper next door. The stout lady hastened after it, looking like a toddler running after her runaway puppy.

  Victoria drew in a heavy sigh as she stepped into the townhouse. The past few months had been like that hat, flying out of control wherever the wind decided to blow. Her planned marriage to Nightham had been a mistake, and now, she had no idea what she was going to do. She had penned a letter to Washington and Sons, hoping they could settle the matter one way or another.

  She climbed the stairs to her bedchambers, knowing that it was time to tell Drake everything. Whether the marquess loved her or not, Wendover was a threat she could no longer ignore. She had no options left. Bow Street would have to be informed.

  "Victoria."

  The sound of Drake's voice sent her heart thumping. She turned toward the drawing room. "Drake?"

  Two icy gray eyes pinned her to the floor. Was he worried about her?

  "I was out with my aunt and Sarah. There's no reason you should have been worried. But as long as you're here, I would like a word with you." She would confess everything. She had to trust somebody.

  "A word with me? By all means."

  She stepped into the drawing room and he closed the doors. "I was thinking about the past few months and—"

  "Take a seat." His stern words sent her grappling for the nearby wing chair.

  "I know you are upset."

  "Upset?" His eyebrows raised in challenge. "That, my dear lady, is too mild a word. Enraged is more like it."

  The cold contempt that flashed in his eyes surprised her. "Are you finally going to tell me the truth?"

  "W-what do you mean? If you are speaking of Wendover, I was going to tell you, but—"

  He threw his hands to his hips, forcing his jacket aside. "Do not think me an imbecile. I am not speaking of Wendover."

  Victoria watched in alarm as his long legs pounded across the room. A cold knot formed in her stomach, and a little voice told her she ought not to be alone with this man, not now. He truly looked like an enraged pirate.

  When his back was turned, she rose to leave. "Perhaps I should speak to you another time."

  He spun around. "Stay exactly where you are. I don't believe you want anyone to hear what I have to say."

  A sliver of uneasiness snaked down her spine as she sank back into her seat. Had he discovered that she had been married to Nightham after all? But she had planned to tell him. She had.

  He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a ring. "Have you ever seen this before?"

  Her cheeks bloomed with color, and she rose, barely able to control her gasp of shock. "Where did you get that?"

  "Where? I think you know the answer to that." He looked at her accusingly, the bitterness in his voice puncturing her heart.

  "You took that from my bedchambers! Have you no decency? To ruffle through my things! I have never felt so violated in my life. How could I have ever thought of trusting you!"

  "Trusting me? I believe you have things backward. Your little cousin did some detective work on the treasures of this house. So do not blame me because William brought this little gem to my attention."

  "How ... how dare you send a child to do your dirty work."

  He dangled the ring in the air. She raised her arms to grab it. With lightning speed, he caught her arm and jerked her toward him, his warm breath against her face. "When were you going to tell me about Nightham's ring, Victoria? When?"

  He opened his palm and shoved the ring beneath her nose, then uttering an oath, he released her and slapped the
ring onto the end table. She opened her mouth to defend herself, then shut it as she stared at the ring. The ruby glittered beneath the rays of the sun like a piece of her shattered heart.

  She peered up at the marquess and shuddered, trying to think of the right words to explain herself. But it was the glint of suspicion flashing in his slate-gray eyes that cut the last spark of hope between them.

  But it mattered not. She still had to tell him everything. She had already made the decision before she had entered the room. Other people depended on her. "I can explain."

  "You stole it? "

  The vile accusation snapped her senses into full alert. "Stole it? How could you believe such a wicked thing?"

  "What would you call it? Borrowing, just as William borrows the raspberry preserves?"

  "Oh, do not bring William into this."

  His short bark of laughter infuriated her. "That boy is an innocent. You, madam, are not."

  She walked toward the window and stared off in the distance. "You are a fool, Drake. A blind fool. I heard about your wife and her infidelities. This has nothing to do with the ring and you know it."

  Tears stung the back of her eyes as she turned to meet his sneering gaze. She was surprised how calm and controlled her voice sounded. "You will allow a dead woman to dictate your life? You believe all women the same as your cheating wife? You even have the audacity to think that I stole from Nightham? She was only one woman, Drake. Not all women put together."

  Then with her chin held high, she marched forward and snatched the ring from the table. Why had she ever thought she could trust this man at all?

  "In fact, I almost feel sorry for you, Lord Drakefield. You have no notion of what is important in life."

  "I want an answer from you, Victoria. Explain yourself."

  Her laugh came out in a sad rumble. "How very sorry I feel for you."

  "Victoria, I will not leave this house until I have an answer."

  "An answer?" she laughed, hardening both her heart and her resolve under his withering glare. "No."

  His brows snapped together. "No, you will not answer?"

  She strolled slowly toward the door. "No, I will never marry you." Her voice cracked as she opened the doors and left him standing by himself.

  "This is not the last of our conversation, madam!"

  Drake's only answer was the slap of slippers up the stairs.

  He took an abrupt step toward the hall and stopped with a curse upon his lips. Had he lost his heart to this woman, only to have it thrown back in his face with lies and deceit like Honoria?

  No. It was more than that. He was jealous of the possibility of Victoria loving Nightham. It was ludicrous to believe she had stolen the ring. There had to be a plausible explanation. What the devil had he been thinking?

  "Is it worth anything? The treasure, I mean?" William stood beside him in the hall, his blue eyes looking up expectantly.

  "Worth anything?" Drake let out a hollow laugh. "Dear boy, I believe it cost me more than a thousand treasures."

  "What?"

  "Nothing, William. Nothing at all."

  Later that evening, when James and the duke visited Phoebe's townhouse, the men decided that one of them would stay on watch during the day until they determined the best course of action to take concerning Wendover and his bizarre behavior.

  Phoebe took her fiancé by the arm and led him into the library, leaving James and Sarah alone with Winston standing in the hall as guard dog.

  "Winston," Sarah turned to her butler, "I was wondering if you would check on William. I fear he has been spying on our neighbor Mrs. Shelby, certain that she is working for Napoleon."

  "I believe Napoleon is no longer a threat," Winston said, pursing his lips, obviously not taking the hint to move.

  "But William is a threat," Sarah replied, smiling. "He has taken it into his head that the lady is a foreign agent. Mother caught him using his spyglass the other day."

  "That should not pose a ready problem, Miss Sarah. I daresay, a harmless venture."

  Sarah frowned. "Not a harmless venture when our neighbor is in the process of taking a bath, Winston."

  Winston's face turned red. "I will see to the boy right away."

  Standing near the hearth in the drawing room, James gave Sarah a brotherly wink. "Smart thinking. Winston has felt quite useless the past few days."

  "Lord James," Sarah said, her expression serious, "I need to speak with you."

  James's expression suddenly became somber. "What is it?"

  "I want to speak to you about your brother."

  James's eyebrow arched in question. "What does Drake have to do with you?"

  "Everything."

  He frowned. "Everything?"

  Sarah sighed and gave him the details of Victoria's adventure with Lord Nightham and the special license.

  James gave Sarah a brotherly tap on her hand. "I already knew about all that. You must not worry about it."

  "But you don't know that Victoria married Nightham, do you?"

  "By Jove, you jest?"

  Sarah, having extracted more details out of Victoria, gave James the remainder of the story, including the part about Drake finding the ruby ring and accusing Victoria of stealing it.

  James shook his head. "My brother is a fool when it comes to women. Ever since he married Honoria, he has hardened his heart to any female at all."

  "Then you will have to tell him the truth."

  James pulled at his neckcloth. "Me?"

  "Yes, you. There is no other gentleman that I trust. Why, you are like a brother to me. I beg you. Please."

  "Hell's bells." He flushed at the sound of Sarah's gasp. "Beg your pardon, but that is simply out of the question. No one tells Drake something like that and lives to tell about it."

  Drake sat at the card table at White's, betting outrageous amounts of money, but much to his regret, it did nothing to drown his sorrows or his memories of the turquoise-eyed siren who had claimed his heart.

  "Drake," James whispered over his shoulders, "Need a word with you."

  Drake picked up his cards for another round. "No."

  "A word, if you please."

  "As I recall, you are to be stationed in the townhouse at this very moment. I believe father has set up an around the clock schedule to guard the place. There are other hired guards, but we are to stay in the guest room. Indiscreetly, of course."

  "Father is there."

  "So then," Drake glanced up, "why not join us for a game of vingt-et-un after this?" He leaned back and dragged another chair across the floor. The other players were paying attention to their drinks and cards, ignoring the two brothers.

  James frowned. "I need to talk to you, not play games."

  "If you don't want to play, go away."

  Scowling, James removed himself from the card table and waited in another room. But Drake sensed his brother's impatience. Could he not drink and gamble in peace without his entire family interfering?

  After a half-hour of cards, Drake gathered his earnings and headed for James who was nursing his second glass of brandy. Drake leaned against the wall with arms crossed. "Very well, what the hell do you want?"

  Voices lifted from the adjacent room.

  James pointed to the chair beside him. "Sit down. I would like to speak to you about Victoria."

  The only other gentlemen in the room had his ear to a corner table due to too many spirits.

  Drake's answer was to push away from the wall and stalk across the room to another table, grabbing a glass of Madeira.

  James shot from his seat and before Drake could take a sip, his brother slapped the drink out of his hands. "By Jove, Drake, you will listen to me."

  Drake's hand shot out as he grabbed his brother by the cravat. "Another act like that and you will find yourself on the floor like the last time you were here, except this time I will help you to it."

  James gave his brother a belligerent stare. "I have no wish to fight, but for yo
ur sake, I will. Besides, I promised Sarah."

  Drake released him. "Sarah? What has she to do with this?"

  James took a seat and lowered his voice. "I am like a brother to her now. She has confided to me that she's afraid for her cousin and only wants her happiness. She told me about what you found in Victoria's room."

  Drake's expression stilled.

  "I know how you feel, but hear me out. Victoria did not steal that ring. Nightham was her husband."

  Drake stared at James thoughtfully, then sank into a nearby chair. "Go on."

  "Sarah told me the vows between Nightham and Victoria were said by special license minutes before our friend was murdered."

  "I thought it a slight possibility"—the shock was apparent in Drake's voice—"but she never said a thing to me."

  "Perhaps she was afraid to tell you. You do have a way of frightening people you know."

  Drake felt about as small as Captain Whitie. Had his anger at Honoria caused Victoria not to trust him? He gazed into James's pitying eyes and said the words before he could take them back. "I was a fool."

  "Yes, you were," James said curtly. "A blind fool at that."

  You are a fool, Drake. A blind fool. Drake recoiled in his chair as Victoria's words came back to haunt him.

  After a moment he stared at the sickening smile on his brother's lips. "And why is that so funny, pray tell?"

  "Funny? It's hilarious." James slapped the table with an open hand. "Heaven help us all when you two have children."

  Drake smiled, warming to the idea of having children with Victoria. Was this what love was? To want to live the rest of your life with someone and keep her safe? To give her children? To worry over her every need? Yes, his heart answered back. Yes.

  A commotion near the front door drew their attention.

  "I say," James said, frowning as he made his way toward the crowd. "I believe there's been a fire at one of the hotels."

  Drake followed him.

  The crowd was so loud James had to scream. "Lord Hamilton's family was staying there! His two children are dead!"

  Drake grimaced. He barely knew the baron, but the thought of two small children dying in a fire made him ill.

  Suddenly, James turned and grabbed his brother's shoulders. "Listen. Wendover was staying at the same hotel. Fire's out now, but it seems the earl was one of the victims."