by Lucy Monroe
He couldn't resist touching her. Placing his hands on her arms, he pulled her toward him. She didn't resist, which surprised him. When he had her snug against him, she shuddered and wrapped her arms around his back.
"I missed you." Her words came out in a broken whisper.
Bloody hell. She needed to make up her mind. Either he was a cruel-hearted monster she couldn't marry or someone she couldn't live without. He couldn't be both. Didn't she realize that?
Apparently not.
He rubbed her back, trying to infuse her with his strength. "It's going to be all right, sweetheart. We'll find the thief and he'll tell me who his cohort is on the island. Nothing is going to happen to you or Merewether."
He'd do a better job of keeping this promise than he had the one to find her attacker. He had to.
"You're still going to help me?"
Caught in his own determined need to keep her safe, he didn't at first understand her hesitant question.
When he did, he had a good mind to shake her. "What the hell kind of question is that?"
She pulled away from him. "Don't shout at me."
"Do you know me so little, Thea? First you accuse me of being a cruel bastard like your father and then you imply that I will leave you to fend for yourself once we reach England. Next, you'll accuse me of seducing your maid."
She laughed and the sound cut through his anger as nothing else could have.
Her smile was like the sun coming from behind the clouds on a storm-ridden day. "I can assure you, I will never accuse you of seducing Melly."
He released Thea completely and stepped away from her, but felt an answering smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "I am relieved to hear that."
Her amusement dimmed. "I did not mean to insult you. But I realized that since I have refused to marry you, you might not wish to help me pursue my investigation."
Just like that, the anger was back. "Damnation. Let us get a few things straight."
She nodded, wisely remaining silent.
"One. I am going to help you find your thief."
"Thank you."
"Two. You will be staying with my aunt while we are in London so I can keep an eye on you." When she looked ready to protest, he glared her into silence. "Think of it as insurance for your maid's safety. You must realize that if you are in danger, so are the people close to you."
Her eyes rounded in understanding and he knew he'd made his point when she bit her bottom lip. "All right."
"Three." He stopped and took her chin into his hand. He wanted her full attention for this one.
She met his gaze with her own, her eyes dark blue in their intensity.
"Three," he repeated. "You are going to marry me because although I may be hard, I am not heartless—and though I may be strong, I am not cruel."
"Oh, Pierson." She said nothing else, but he took her lack of argument as a definite step in the right direction.
* * *
Chapter 11
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Lady Upworth has sent me sketches of Jared. He is a beautiful child, perfect in every way. Sometimes my arms ache to hold him, and Thea will toddle into the room as if she knows. She climbs into my lap and sits quietly, so unlike my daughter, allowing me to rock her and sing songs I long to sing to my son as well. Lady Upworth does not mention Langley in her last letter. I think she is surprised and disappointed that my disappearance has not caused him to have a change of heart. I am neither. He has no heart and his own pride will prevent him from ever acknowledging his error.
November 11, 1800
Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley
Lady Boyle's coach lurched for what seemed like the hundredth time as it hit a dip in the road from Liverpool to London. Thea grabbed the strap hanging from the ceiling and held on, refusing to land on her backside on the carriage floor again. Once was enough.
She could still feel the bruise on her hip she'd received the one time she had allowed herself to nod off.
The ride smoothed out and she let go of the strap, settling more comfortably onto the leather carriage seat. The rest of the occupants of the carriage dozed. Lady Boyle and her companion, Mrs. Coombs, sat opposite Thea and Melly. Melly snorted in her sleep, and Thea marveled at how she and the other women managed to keep their balance. No one but Thea had so much as tipped forward, regardless of how much the coach bounced along the uneven road.
Scooting toward the door, she peered out the window. The scenery was unlike anything she had ever seen. The lush green hills in no way resembled the tropical paradise of her island, and yet there was such beauty in them that looking at them gave her a physical ache. She wondered what London would be like.
Her first sight of Liverpool had made her feel faint. The busy docks and crowds of people were so unlike her island that she had wanted to stay onboard ship and sail right back to the Caribbean. Drake seemed to understand how overwhelming it all was because he had tucked her protectively against his side and kept her there throughout the making of plans for her journey to London.
He had settled her at an inn and left her playing cards with his aunt, Mrs. Coombs, and Melly before going to attend to the business associated with bringing his ship into port on time. Later, he arranged for her to travel in his aunt's coach to London.
So far, he had declined to join them, preferring to ride his horse alongside the carriage. Looking around the crowded interior of the carriage, she did not blame him. Where would he sit—on the floor? At least it wasn't raining. But the air was so cold that she shivered under the lap rug tucked around her. Drake must be cold indeed, but he hadn't complained.
Gratitude for the crowded conditions made her feel guilty. She needed time to think about all the feelings he brought out in her. He made her wish for things she had planned to live her life without. Husband. Children. She touched her flat stomach. The thought of having Drake's child should have horrified her. Instead it filled her with unmistakable longing.
Could she possibly be carrying his baby? She did not doubt he would make good his threat to marry her then. After a lifetime of paying the price for his own parents' mistake, Drake was not about to foist that sort of pain on his own child.
You are going to marry me.
His words haunted her. Did the man think he could order her to marry him? She supposed he did. Just as he tried to control so many other things. The fact that she didn't seem to mind scared her witless. Was she in danger of breaking the promise she had made to her mother?
Although I may be hard, I am not heartless—and though I may be strong, I am not cruel. His words played in her mind like the beat of the drums that echoed from the slaves quarters at night, back on her island. They had the same disturbing quality.
Was it possible to be hard without slipping into cruelty? She did not know. Her mind rejected the possibility, but her heart longed for the words to be true.
Forcing herself to push thoughts of her personal relationship with Drake aside, she tried to concentrate on the investigation. She searched for holes in Drake's plan to pose as an interested investor and couldn't find any. She had to admit that the idea would work nicely, allowing her access to the ledgers and an excuse to spend time in the London office. It would also keep her in Drake's constant company.
The knowledge both alarmed and enthralled her.
Thea tried to see through the brown fog that clung to the pavement outside Lady Boyle's town house. She shook her head at the useless exercise. Between the lace curtains that Lady Boyle insisted must not be moved and the fog, Thea could not see a thing.
"He'll not get here any faster no matter how many times you look out that window, child."
She sighed and nodded in agreement with Lady Boyle's comment. "I know." She jumped up and began pacing the room. "I cannot wait to hear how it went at Lloyd's of London. He brought the Golden Dragon in to port on time and they will be forced to pay his policy."
"It was a very near thing." Lady Boyle's knitting needles click
ed in a steady rhythm, uninterrupted by their discussion.
Thea swung to face the older woman. "Yes, it was. Imagine coming into port with only two days to spare. Drake must feel very accomplished."
She wondered if that was true. He had played down his achievement and treated his visit to the insurance company as just a routine business call.
"It was closer than that, my dear."
"What do you mean?" How could it have gotten any closer?
"He planned to have the captain give the order to drop anchor and search the ship until they found that nasty man who accosted you."
Although Drake had not taken his aunt into his complete confidence, he had told her enough for her to be infuriated that anything so unacceptable had occurred on one of his ships.
Thea could not believe her ears. "But that would have put the entire voyage in jeopardy."
"Nonsense." Lady Boyle lifted the garment she was knitting and examined it closely before setting it back on her lap and resuming activity with her needles. "Merely his policy with Lloyd's."
"I'm sure you are mistaken. Drake would never have jeopardized that policy on purpose. He told me coming into port on time was a matter of his honor."
"Apparently catching your attacker was of more import."
Of more import to Drake than his honor? She took leave to doubt it. Lady Boyle must be mistaken. She would ask Drake about it as soon as possible.
The sound of the outer door opening drove all questions from her mind.
He had returned.
She rushed out the door, ignoring Lady Boyle's instruction that a lady should never rush to a gentleman and should never run, period. She descended the stairs more quickly than might be ladylike. By the time she reached the bottom, Drake was handing his hat and coat to Lady Boyle's very correct butler.
She skidded to a halt a foot or so from Drake.
He turned toward her and he cocked his brow in question. "Is something the matter?"
She realized she was slightly out of breath. "Of course not."
"Then why the mad dash down the stairs?"
"I could not wait another moment to hear how your meeting at Lloyd's went."
He shrugged. "Much as one would expect it to go."
She wanted to throttle him. "Since I have never been to London, have never done personal business with a company so large, and have no idea what collecting a policy entails, you will just have to tell me."
Taking her arm, he led her back up the stairs at a much more sedate pace than she had used to descend them. "It was not terribly exciting. I brought paperwork from Liverpool showing the date of my arrival. They gave me a bank draft for the amount of my policy and that was that."
"What about your investors? Did they collect as well?"
"They will. Most are gentlemen of the ton and will send their men of affairs around to collect their bank drafts."
"But they will miss all the satisfaction for themselves."
He laughed. "I assure you, they will enjoy all the satisfaction of spending the money they made on this trip."
She wrinkled her nose. "I suppose."
They reached the top of the stairs.
She held back, not ready to reenter the drawing room. "Drake?"
He stopped and looked down at her questioningly.
"Yes?"
"Your aunt said something that I was sure she was mistaken about, but I wanted to ask you anyway."
Dark eyes gazed into her own. "You're rambling again, Thea. That's a sure sign that something has you excited or upset. Which is it?"
"Neither."
He looked unconvinced.
Thea cleared her throat. "Your aunt said that you were preparing to drop anchor so the ship could be searched for Fox."
His expression showed no emotion. "Yes, but he escaped on the dinghy before I could do so."
"I don't understand."
"The closer we got to harbor, the more chance that he would jump ship to escape. I thought to drop anchor while we were still far enough out that he would not do so."
"But the search could have taken days." She stared at him, not comprehending. "Even if you had found him immediately, we would have lost the momentum we were running under."
"It doesn't matter now." He frowned, his eyes filled with frustrated anger. "He escaped before we had the chance."
"Surely that is best. If he had not escaped, you would have disappointed your investors and yourself."
He turned her into his arms, the warmth of his big body surrounding her.
She should pull away. What if the servants saw them? He would undoubtedly say that she had been compromised. However, she could not resist the intensity in his eyes.
"Your safety is more important to me than disappointing my investors."
His aunt had been right. There were weightier matters than his honor. It was her last coherent thought before Drake's mouth rocked over hers. Her body turned to liquid at the first touch of his lips. He had not kissed her since the fateful afternoon aboard ship when they had made love. Although she had tried to tell herself that was exactly what she wanted, she knew now that she had been lying. She wanted this—Drake's mouth covering her own intimately and with purpose.
"Pierson."
Lady Boyle's strident tones broke the hazy passion swirling around Thea. Drake released her slowly and then turned to face his aunt.
"Aunt Josephine. I did not realize you were there."
"Apparently." She pointed one of her ever-present knitting needles at him. "You also apparently did not notice that you were taking unacceptable liberties with Thea in plain view of anyone who happened by. You might very well have been seen by one of the servants."
Drake bowed toward his aunt. "I am terribly sorry, Aunt Josephine. I will remember to keep my libertine ways with Thea private in future."
Lady Boyle's mouth opened and shut, but nothing came out.
Thea glared at Drake. "Stop it. You will not upset your aunt this way." She turned to Lady Boyle. "What he means to say is that he won't be taking any liberties in the future."
Lady Boyle harrumphed. "I very much doubt that."
It was Thea's turn to be speechless.
Drake popped her mouth shut by pressing her chin up with his finger. "My aunt appears to know me better than you do."
Thea batted his hand away.
Irritated beyond caution, she replied, "I sincerely doubt that is the case, unless you have a most unnatural relationship."
She immediately covered her mouth with her hand, but it was too late. The words were already out. She turned a guarded glance toward Lady Boyle, wondering if she had given the older woman a complete disgust of her.
Surprisingly, the dowager allowed her laughter to mingle with Drake's bark of amusement. "Come along, you two. You must plan your visit to Lady Upworth. She will be in alt to find out that Thea has come to Town. I am specifically waiting to take Thea shopping for her London wardrobe until Lady Upworth has been apprised of her presence. She will want to take part in the shopping, I'm sure."
Drake pulled his curricle to a stop in front of the old-fashioned town house. Its exterior looked quite different from that of Lady Boyle's. Thea marveled at the brickwork, so unlike anything back home. She marveled at something else as well. Lady Upworth's home was not mired in layers of coal dust like so many buildings in London. She wondered how her aunt had managed it.
She broke the silence she had kept since leaving Lady Boyle's. "Do you think she will like me?"
"You told me that you two have corresponded since you learned to write."
She relaxed a little, thinking of the hundreds of letters she had exchanged with her aunt over her lifetime. "Yes."
"Then she no doubt already loves you."
The words warmed her and she turned a grateful smile to Drake. "Thank you."
He nodded before getting down to help her from the curricle. He put out his gloved hand and she rested her fingers in his, allowing him to guide her to t
he cobbled pavement. Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, he led her to the door. It opened almost immediately after Drake had banged the large brass knocker against the door.
"Yes?"
The butler's stooped appearance and gray hair did not detract from his air of proper authority.
"We are here to see Lady Upworth."
The elderly servant stepped back to usher Drake and Thea into the hall. "Whom shall I tell Milady is calling?"
Thea's throat closed. To be so close to her aunt, the one member of her family still living that knew of Thea's existence. The opulence of the house, the foreignness of things that should be familiar because she'd heard about them her entire life, overwhelmed her, and she could not make any words get past the thickness in her throat. She threw a desperate glance at Drake, and he answered the servant.
"Please inform her that Miss Selwyn and Mr. Drake are awaiting her convenience."
She had no time to collect herself before the butler returned. "Milady will see you in her private parlor."
He led them on a ponderous procession up a flight of stairs. Opening a heavy ornate door to the left, the butler indicated they should enter. Thea could not seem to make her feet move. Drake took her arm and gently pulled her into a lady's sitting room.
The furnishings were exactly as Lady Upworth had sketched them. Matching chairs with needlepoint cushions sat opposite a fainting couch near the fireplace. The smell of furniture wax and dried flowers permeated the room. The escritoire her aunt had been so thrilled to find at a shop on the Pall Mall resided near the window. It looked exactly like the sketch she had sent, except it shone in a way that a charcoal sketch could not catch.
And next to the small desk sat an elderly woman dressed in the first stare of fashion. Her aunt.
"Is it really you?" Lady Upworth's voice came out in a choked whisper.
Gripping the edge of the escritoire, she stood and the skirts of her black gown fell in graceful folds toward the floor. The sound of rustling silk accompanied her movement across the floor.
