Lord Sinister (Secrets & Scandals Book 3)

by Tiffany Green

  Jack, looking about as serious as she’d ever seen him, cocked his head to the side. “It looks like I’m not the only one who needs to do some explaining.” His eyes dropped to her stomach, making it clear his meaning.

  Amelia released a sigh and headed toward Dr. Landon’s study. “Come with me.”

  The faint odor of cigars and old leather books greeted her as she led Jack into the room. Suddenly chilled, she walked to the fireplace and held out her hands to the warmth of the flames crackling in the grate. Jack closed the door and came up to her side. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern making his voice husky.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She crossed her arms. “Where were you?” she asked, nearly stamping her foot.

  He shrugged, amusement replacing the worry on his face. “Oh, usual pirate matters.”

  Every ounce of anger Amelia felt evaporated at the reminder of how Jack had been forced to live. She stepped up to him and put her arms around him, nestling her cheek against his chest. “I wish things were different.”

  His hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. “So do I, Amy.”

  A movement out of the corner of her eye had Amelia shifting her gaze toward the doorway. Julian stood there, his eyes wide with surprise. Then he backed away.

  She pulled out of Jack’s embrace. “Excuse me. There is something I need to do.” She started toward the door, but halted. “And don’t disappear again.”

  Hearing the front door open and close, she started in that direction. As she reached for the knob, her coat appeared over her shoulders. “You’ll need it,” Dr. Landon said.

  She nodded as she slid her arms through the sleeves and pulled the door open. The cold air bit into every inch of exposed skin as she stepped outside. She didn’t see Julian, but his foot prints were clearly visible in the ice-crusted mud. Amelia snuggled deeper into the warm wool and stepped carefully to the ground.

  The footprints ended at the boarding house. Amelia opened the door and nearly ran into Mrs. Templeton.

  “Oh, gracious, girl, you gave me a start.”

  “Pray, forgive me, Mrs. Templeton, I didn’t mean to startle you.” When the woman started to pass, Amelia halted her. “Did my husband come in?”

  The woman’s usual frown deepened. She sighed and shook her head. “Months ago, he says you aren’t his wife, then he arrives again yesterday and says you are…”

  Amelia gaped. “He was here before?”

  Mrs. Templeton crossed her arms and gave a sharp nod. “His lordship listened in on a conversation you were having with your cousin, then he told me you weren’t his wife and left.”

  A tight knot settled low in Amelia’s belly. She recalled exactly the lie she had told Jack. The lie about wanting to be free of Julian. Her shoulders drooped. No wonder she’d received the nullity papers soon after that.

  Glancing back at the frowning Mrs. Templeton, she asked, “Where is he?”

  The lady nodded toward the parlor.

  “Thank you,” she said softly as she walked past.

  Her hand shook as she reached for the brass handle. The door opened silently, and she entered with a slight hesitation, not knowing what she would say to say to Julian, how she would repair the damage done.

  She noticed he stood before the fireplace, holding a glass in one hand, staring intently into the orange blazes. With a deep breath, she closed the door and moved forward. “Julian.”

  He downed the rest of his drink before facing her. “Is it mine or his?” he asked, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “And I want the truth, dammit.”

  Amelia stumbled back a step, surprised at the fury on his face. “What?” She gasped when he threw his empty glass into the fireplace, then she backed up as he began in her direction. The wall halted her. She pressed herself against the painted wood as her husband reached out and took her by the upper arms.

  “The baby you are carrying,” he said in a low, deadly tone, “is it mine or Jack’s?” He narrowed his eyes. “And don’t lie.”

  As hurt and anger washed over Amelia, she realized how the conversation he’d overheard moments ago between her and Jack must have looked. Another thought, a crazy thought, entered her mind. If she wanted to be free of Julian for good, all she had to do was say the baby was Jack’s. It would be that easy. Julian would continue with the suit to nullify their marriage and that would be that.

  But it wasn’t that easy.

  The longer she stared into his steely-gray eyes, the more she realized she didn’t want to be free of Julian at all. She wanted to be his wife. She wanted his love above all else.

  Raising her trembling hand, she brought it up to his cheek. “You are the only one I have ever given myself to.”

  He shook his head. “How do I know that to be the truth?”

  “I didn’t lie about Alex eleven years ago and I am not lying now. The eyes mirror the soul, Julian. What do my eyes tell you?” She looked steadily at him, willing him to see the truth.

  After ten seconds of staring hard at her, Julian pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Amelia, I’m sorry.”

  She laid her head against his chest and allowed his warmth to seep all the way in to her heart. She breathed his scent, tangy, earthy, spicy, and wished time would stop. Locked in his arms forever would be heaven. As she rubbed her cheek against the softness of his dark blue coat, a thought occurred. She went still. Then she lifted her head and looked up. “If you didn’t know about the baby, why did you come?”

  He studied her for several seconds before replying in a soft, hoarse voice. “The eyes mirror the soul, Amelia. What do my eyes tell you?”

  At first, Amelia thought his words meant to tease her. But as she continued to stare at him and saw no playful twinkle, not even a slight grin, she realized he was serious. Her palms grew sweaty. Her lips parted in wonder. Julian gazed down at her with a look so powerful, it made her breathless. Then he lowered his head and grazed her lips with his.

  She jerked back, her chest heaving. “But…but how could…” she moved her head from side to side, frustrated that she couldn’t put words to her feelings.

  “What is it, Pixie?”

  That name given so long ago, brought it all back. She squared her shoulders. “Have you placed another wager with Lord Fielding?”

  His eyes went wide with surprise, then narrowed to slits. He settled his hands flat against the wall at either side of her head and leaned forward.

  Amelia plastered herself against the painted wood and took note of the anger building on his face. He halted just an inch from her lips and spoke in a deadly soft purr. “I’ll say this just once. What I feel for you right now is genuine and true, and it has nothing to do with that bloody wager.”

  She started to ask exactly what it was he felt for her, but his lips dropped down over hers. Her eyes fluttered shut. He nibbled her bottom lip before slanting his head to the side and deepening the kiss.

  As his velvety tongue, spiced with a hint of whiskey, slid against hers, Amelia responded slow at first, then in a mad frenzy. His arms folded around her body, and he pulled her to him. A throbbing heat pooled between her legs, taking control of her. She could only think of satisfying the ache of desire consuming her.

  Julian ended the kiss much too soon. He lifted his head, his breathing almost as labored as hers. “I would very much like to take you home now, wife.”

  Pressing her cheek against his, she nodded. “I would like that, too.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Nothing could have prepared Amelia for the glorious sight of Kenbrook. The sprawling mansion spread wide and tall in the field of grass, sparkling from rain that iced over during the night, surrounded by a forest of oak, ash, beech, and elm. It had to be the most beautiful thing on earth. The carriage rolled to a stop in the drive freshly swept as one of the massive twin doors opened and Alex raced out. He hesitated long enough to allow a footman to assist her to the ground before throwing his arms around her.

  “Oh, my son, how I’ve missed
you,” Amelia said into his ear, tears stinging her eyes and nose.

  “Not half as much as I missed you, Mama.” His voice broke on the last word.

  Amelia smiled and closed her eyes, allowing the warm tears to flow down her cheeks. Then she wiped the wetness away and pulled back. “Let me look at you.” She examined him from head to toe. “My, Alex, you have grown!” She shook her head. “What have they been feeding you?”

  Her son’s sniffle quickly turned into a laugh. “Everything.” His eyes sparkled with happiness. “Oh, Mama, Eton is wonderful. I’ve learned so much.” At the sound of approaching footsteps, Alex’s happiness altered into a polite distance. Amelia sighed. Obviously her son hadn’t been pleased with Julian’s failure to bring her back any quicker than now.

  Julian’s arm slid across her shoulders. “Hello, Alex.”

  “My lord,” her son said with a slight nod, his shoulders rigid.

  As Amelia started to chastise Alex, Julian leaned down and planted a small kiss on her temple. “It’s cold out here, let’s get you inside.”

  “You’re probably wondering why we didn’t return to Sagemeadow,” Julian said quietly as they entered the grand foyer.

  Amelia shook her head, visions of him lying in a pool of blood racing through her head. “I understand perfectly.” She shot a quick glance at Alex and lowered her voice. “Has the man who tried to kill you been found?”

  “No.”

  She halted and faced Julian, her worry mounting. “You mean he’s still out there, waiting to strike again?”

  Julian took her by the shoulders, his touch gentle. “Don’t worry, Pixie, we’ll be safe here.”

  As she opened her mouth to argue, Julian’s parents approached.

  “Amelia, how wonderful it is to see you again.” The duchess’ smile held genuine warmth. She reached for Amelia’s hands and gave an affectionate squeeze.

  “I’m happy to see you, too, Your Grace.”

  “No more of that ‘Your Grace’ rubbish,” the duchess waved her hand, “call me Margaret, please.”

  Amelia felt a smile slipping across her lips. “All right, Margaret, I shall.”

  The duke moved to his wife’s side, looking solemnly down at her. Amelia had to cock her head all the way back to look him in the eye. “First you save our daughter and grandchild, then our son, and we repay you by allowing you to be shipped off for an offense you didn’t commit.” He paused as a storm of emotion gathered in his dark blue eyes. “I know it’s not enough, but you have our sincerest apology, madam.”

  “Oh, Your Gr—”

  “Joseph.”

  Amelia swallowed the knot of tears in her throat. “Joseph,” she said, “you had no choice. I confessed, remember.”

  He shook his head. “I should have known it was a false confession.”

  Her brows sprang up. “So you’re a mind reader, then?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then that settles it.” Amelia gave him a sunny smile and a pat on the arm. “I’ll not have you feeling guilty one more second,” she stated, then turned and began in the direction Alex had gone.

  Margaret caught up with her. “Thank you, dear. Joseph has been feeling responsible.”

  “Responsible?” Amelia shook her head. “But he did nothing—”

  “That’s it exactly,” Margaret said. “Nothing was done.”

  “Your coat, my lady, may I take it?”

  Amelia turned to the butler. “Not just yet,” she replied with a quick glance to Julian who approached with his father.

  “There is something we would like to tell you.” Julian halted at her side and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Come, let us go inside.” He gestured the drawing room to the left, where Alex stood waiting for them.

  Joseph and Margaret gave quizzical glances to each other. Amelia gripped her hands together, nervous at what their reaction would be.

  As the two footmen closed the doors, Julian brought her forward. “Amelia is with child,” he said simply, a proud smile coming to his lips.

  His parents rushed forward with congratulations. Amelia’s nervousness evaporated as they each hugged her. Then she looked for Alex. Her happiness waned. He stood board-stiff, lips pressed together, looking out the windows, not at all pleased with the idea of a brother or sister.

  But before she could go to him, the door opened and Megan and Nicholas entered.

  When the news had been repeated, Amelia received more hugs and well wishes. She turned to the windows but found Alex no longer there. And after a careful scan of the room, she found him gone.

  “What is it?”

  Julian’s voice in her ear gave her a small start. “It’s Alex,” she answered breathlessly. “He’s gone.”

  “Not to worry, Pixie.”

  Her gaze traveled to the windows, to the blanket of ice beyond, and shivered. “What if he’s out there?”

  “He isn’t.”

  She turned back to Julian. “How can you know that?”

  His right brow went up slightly. “Alex is being watched, protected.” He settled his hands on her shoulders. “I am to know straightway if he ventures outside.”

  Relieved, Amelia blew out a breath and relaxed.

  Alex paced the large room he’d been assigned, agitated. Negative feelings boiled within him. He couldn’t stop them. Nor could he identify why he felt the way he did. Of course seeing his mother made him glad, glad that she wouldn’t have to work so hard just to put a few scraps of food before him. But something else bothered him.

  With a sigh, he left the chamber. Exploring this gigantic palace-like mansion sounded like a good idea. A sort of adventure. Meandering through hallways, up and down stairs, peeking in various rooms, Alex started to feel better.

  Leaving the music room, he crossed the hall and opened the door to a darkened chamber. From the small amount of light splashed across the wooden parquet floor, he could just detect the folds of drapes covering windows on the other side of the room. Curious, he moved forward and separated the panels. Winter sunlight spilled in to the room, blinding him momentarily. He squinted, then turned when his vision cleared.

  On every wall in the room hung portraits of various sizes. Hundreds of them. He glanced from one to the other. Men, women and children, spanning at least three hundred years from the way some of them were dressed with their ruffled collars and tall white wigs.

  He examined each face carefully, realizing as he came to his grandfather, that these were his ancestors. Their aristocratic blood ran through his veins. That was important, he’d learned from the other boys at Eton. Intelligence and willingness to learn were nothing compared to a title.

  Alex frowned as he thought on that. His eyes shifted from the portrait of his young grandfather and grandmother to the large painting of a dark-haired boy about ten years old. Dove-gray eyes glared proudly down as he sat atop a glistening black horse.

  The boy could have been his twin. And the reason for his sudden agitation hit him like a boulder over the head. His father had denied him and his mother all this, forcing them to live like lowly creatures. How could his mother forgive Lord Julian so easily?

  Alex went stone still as the answer came to him. As always, his mother did what she thought best for her son. Was she just pretending to be happy, then? Was it just an act for his benefit?

  He turned away from the pampered people on the wall, unable to stomach the sight of them anymore, and found Megan standing there, smiling at him.

  “Hello, Alex.”

  “Aunt Megan,” he said, knowing her eyes lit with happiness every time he called her aunt.

  She beamed and came forward, glancing around the room. “I used to love to come here when I was your age.” Slanting him a sideways glance, a twinkle entered her eyes. “But I must admit, I loved visiting the Claremont gallery even more.”

  “Why?” he asked, intrigued in spite of himself.

  “That is where I fell in love with Nicholas.”

  “Yo
u used to meet him in the gallery?” He thought that an odd meeting place, with all those eyes watching.

  Megan shook her head. “It was his portrait I’d meet with.” Her eyes turned dreamy. “One glance was all it took and I knew he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

  Alex wrinkled his nose. “What an odd way of falling in love.”

  “Falling in love usually does happen at odd moments, when it’s least expected.” She paused and gave him a pointed look. “Like when it happened to your parents.”

  In a vehement denial, he shook his head. “They do not love each other. Mama is just protecting me, seeing that I don’t go hungry.”

  Megan’s happiness slid right off her face, she looked stunned. “Oh, Alex, that isn’t true.”

  “Yes, it is.” He crossed his arms.

  “Then why did Julian go after her?” She took a step forward. “You were being well taken care of, yet he still went after your mother. And your mother returned with him. Why?”

  He glanced around, searching for a reason. “The baby,” he stated quickly when he found a picture of an infant on the wall. “He must have learned about the baby.”

  She gave a dubious look. “And when was he supposed to have found that out? Your mother explained she didn’t even know about the babe until after she’d moved to Hamblen.” She stepped up to him. “How could Julian have known before your mother?”

  He staggered back, shaking his head. No! Julian didn’t love his mother.

  “I know Julian very well, Alex,” Megan said with assurance. “He loves her. They love each other.”

  He turned away and walked to the windows. He glanced out at the row of bare cheery trees, recalling the sadness in his mother’s eyes when he used to ask about his father. Megan’s footsteps sounded on the wooden floor. She halted at his side. “I hope you’re right.” He turned swiftly, anger bubbling up to his lips. “Because if he hurts her again, I’ll see that he pays for it.”

  Julian stepped quietly into his bed chambers so he wouldn’t disturb Amelia’s rest. After observing the fatigue in her eyes earlier, he’d insisted she take a nap and led her to the chambers they would share for the duration of their visit. The satisfaction he felt after tucking her into his large bed surprised him. His reluctance to leave her surprised him even more. He had wanted to stay and just watch her sleep. How foolish. So he went back downstairs to challenge Nicholas to a game of chess. Of course, he couldn’t keep his mind on the game.