“What of it? It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. Or did you have an interest in the ship?” Henry Littleton asked. The man had become the fifth Duke of Dover when his father had suddenly died from an apoplexy nearly two years ago. Unlike other sons who took on their father’s places in Parliament and echoed their late sire’s political views, Littleton was the complete opposite.
“I had no interest in the ship personally. I merely find it interesting that this has become an ongoing problem.”
“Storms happen, ships are lost,” Long said.
Gabriel arched a brow and took a sip of brandy. “This is true. What I find unsettling is that they have all been ships that have left the same island.”
“What are you thinking, Clevedon? Pirates?” Long muttered.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Gabriel replied.
Gabriel had done some digging into Roland Dawson’s business dealings since becoming young Vincent’s protector. The family owned a plantation on that very same island from which the missing ships had left. He found that even without Roland, the plantation thrived. Of course, most did, the English owners traveling to their holdings perhaps once a year. Roland had certainly done that more than once, the evidence showed.
A nagging feeling tugged at Gabriel. He couldn’t shake it. As Lady Dorset had asked him to escort her daughter-in-law to visit the family solicitors, Gabriel was already devising a plan to discreetly ask the right questions. No solicitor would question him. He was merely looking after the interests of the widow and her son, who just so happened to be the current earl.
Until he escorted Mrs. Dawson to London, he could only sit back, listen, and watch, and, most importantly, keep his opinions to himself.
Dover downed his brandy, then set the glass on a table next to where the trio was standing. “I apologize, gentlemen, I must find my lady wife. I promised her a dance or two.”
“By all means. You certainly can’t anger your wife.” Long chuckled.
“No, and if I did, she wouldn’t speak to me for who knows how long.”
Dover nodded. “Wives are not to be coddled. It opens the door too far to them having their own opinions.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” Gabriel inquired.
“But of course. Now, if you will excuse me.”
“See what you’re missing by not being married?” Long grunted after their friend left.
“Why marry at all if you’re going to constantly complain about your wife?”
“Because we all need heirs. You should know that better than most.”
“I’ll not be forced into a loveless marriage, arranged or not. Besides, Charles is my heir right now.”
“A brother doesn’t count,” Long replied. “A son is the future.”
“If and when the occasion arises, I’ll marry. Until then, I won’t be dragged kicking and screaming to the altar.”
“Still blaming Marie?”
Lady Marie, the one woman who had been able to capture his attention. He’d made such a fool of himself, only because her own father was a duke and Gabriel had been young, ambitious, and foolish. He had courted her shamelessly, like a puppy. Her father and his agreed to the match, and a spectacular wedding had been planned.
That wedding had turned out to be disastrous. Unbeknownst to Gabriel or anyone else, including her own father, Lady Marie had a tendre for the second son of the Earl of Southampton. Rather than end their betrothal with Gabriel privately before the wedding, Lady Marie had chosen to leave him at the altar.
He’d stood there until finally, Milford Parr found out the bride would not be arriving and that she had disappeared, leaving behind her wedding dress, a tearful maid, and a score of unanswered questions while she and her lover made their way toward Gretna Green.
Heartbroken, Gabriel swore at the time he’d never marry.
Until now. He had loved Marie, but was left heartbroken and humiliated by what she did to him. To them. Running off with another man—something he never saw coming. He was conflicted by his growing feelings for Savannah. He was falling desperately in love with her.
Chapter Eight
Savannah was excited to go to London. Unfortunately, the weather had turned against them, the rain from the summer storms making for a longer than usual ride. Besides the weather, she had to endure the journey with Lady Dorset. Her mother-in-law had been displeased by Savannah’s entry into English society. What the woman expected, Savannah was unsure, but she had a feeling the countess would make sure she was aware of every mistake she’d made.
She sat across from the dowager countess and took out a book she’d brought along with her, hoping not only to get some reading done, but to use the book as a diversion. The last thing she wanted was to spend the time engaged in conversation about what she’d done wrong and how her mother-in-law intended to fix it.
Vincent had not been allowed to accompany them, as the countess insisted the boy didn’t need to be taken from his studies. Savannah had tried to explain to her that her son could easily be taught in London by his tutor and governess. London, she’d said, would be a perfect backdrop. Vincent’s governess could take him to museums and landmarks he’d never seen. However, her ideas fell on deaf ears. Lady Dorset was having none of it.
Savannah’s thoughts wandered to the duke. Rather than accompany the two women, he’d made his excuses citing business meetings. Savannah silently agreed with him, knowing his meetings were merely excuses to avoid riding to London with two women.
The duke had been quite attentive, especially at the ball. He made an effort to introduce her to people he thought important, which was more than the countess had done. They had danced twice, both waltzes. Though he insisted he was a horrid dancer, Savannah found the duke to be light on his feet as he guided her around the dance floor.
He was, however, the exact opposite from any man she might have chosen. Her reasons had not changed. Or had they? She felt herself drawn to this man for all the wrong reasons. This attraction was impossible. It could never happen. A relationship between a duke and an American commoner would never be accepted by his peers. Also, while many women in similar situations might look to a man for protection, outside of Vincent, Savannah didn’t want or need one. Once she learned how to navigate English society, she would be able to fend for herself. If she needed the duke’s assistance with business or Vincent, she would call on him.
The silence was suddenly broken by the dowager countess. “When we arrive in London, you may sit with me, and I’ll explain why we’re either accepting or denying an invitation. It will help you learn about proper English society and how things work, as I’m sure there was no culture or custom in America.”
“I would like that as I find society here a bit overwhelming. Your assistance is most appreciated,” she said with feigned gratitude.
The countess gave her a smug smile. “I have arranged an appointment for tomorrow with my modiste in London. I told her you would need gowns for the evening, day dresses, riding habits, undergarments. Everything.”
“That is most generous of you.”
Lady Dorset lifted her hand as though to dismiss her compliment. “You were married to my son and are mother to the earl. You must look and act the part, even if you are American.”
Savannah arched a brow. “Why do you have such a distaste for Americans?”
“Most Americans have snubbed our ways, only to attempt to reclaim them if the need arises. So many Americans aren’t from old family money. They’re new money and know very little about the ins and out of proper living.”
“I’m sure your insight will be most useful,” she replied with forced pleasantness.
“You’re still young enough that the idea of another marriage shouldn’t be completely dismissed.”
“I’m not interested in marriage. I have all I need with Vincent. Besides, considering my son’s now an earl, I’m afraid I’ll be used as a means to get to him and his fortune. I won’t allow th
at.”
Smiling, the countess said, “You pleasantly surprise me, my dear. Most women in your position would never imagine a man would take advantage of them like that.”
“I’ve heard of it happening far too many times, and I don’t intend to fall victim. If I should ever meet a man I would consider marrying, of course.”
“Of course,” the dowager countess replied. “Luckily for you, you have me and the duke to guide you should the need arise.”
“The duke has far more important matters than overseeing me.”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, my dear.”
“You must be mistaken. The duke and I are ill-suited.”
Lady Dorset smiled and sat back again. “Don’t believe for a moment he would be interested in a foreign commoner. Better to set your sights lower, my dear.”
She needed to change the subject. “Did you know His Grace’s parents?” Savannah asked.
“Of course I knew them,” she replied. “Now there was a couple in love, in spite of their match being arranged.”
“They were?”
“Oh yes. I’ve never seen such a devoted couple. The old duke was devastated beyond consoling when he lost his wife. I swear her death was the end of him. He was never the same after she died.”
“What about you and the earl? Was it an arranged marriage as well?”
“Yes, our union had been arranged from the time we were born. There was never any doubt we would marry.”
Savannah was quite surprised that the countess had opened up, even if she already knew the answer. Roland had told her years ago of how his parents had been paired. It was quite different hearing it directly from her mother-in-law.
“Women are nothing but merchandise when it comes to an arranged marriage,” Savannah said. “She is a pawn in both families’ desire to better themselves, no matter what the cause.”
Shockingly, the countess agreed. “You are correct. Unfortunately, that is the way of the world.”
“I’m grateful to have met Roland. Our marriage was based on love and trust.”
“All the more reason to beware of fortune seekers now.”
Savannah sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
The countess wiggled her way to the corner of her seat and made herself comfortable. “You’re smarter and stronger than you’re giving yourself credit for,” she replied lazily. “If you’ll excuse me, these trips always make sleepy.” She leaned against the squabs and closed her eyes.
Well, drat, the first decent conversation she and the dowager countess had had since Savannah’s arrival, and the countess feigned being tired. There were questions Savannah wanted to ask. She watched the older woman for a moment before opening the book she’d brought along.
She didn’t get far in her reading, because the next thing Savannah remembered was waking up as the carriage flew over a hole in the middle of the road.
* * *
Gabriel sat at the large mahogany desk in his London home, Clevedon House, reading a stack of papers sent by his solicitors regarding the holdings of the late Lord Dawson. He’d been over them in part once before, but that was more about the estate and holdings of the earldom itself. He needed to know what shape it was in and where it needed to be turned around.
This report dealt with the late Roland Dawson’s estate. What was left from an inheritance he received from his grandfather, how Dawson made his money. It seemed everything pointed back to the family plantation in the Caribbean. His ships took goods there, and he brought back spices, sugar, and other items that had a large market.
Then he saw something he never expected. Three of Dawson’s ships had been lost at sea in one year, all after they’d picked up a shipment from the port near his plantation. One per month. While this had depleted Dawson’s fleet by three, it hadn’t kept him from purchasing three more from a yet unknown source. He ran his hands through his hair and sat back in his chair.
He knew the plantation, which was now young Vincent’s, and as the young boy's personal assets was certainly his largest source of income. The small fleet should generate a good amount of revenue as well. Spices and other exotic things were still in great demand in England.
His mind kept returning to the lost ships. Certainly, a man could have a streak of bad luck, but it seemed Roland Dawson had endured more than his fair share. In the past year, a total of three ships had perished at sea. How had no one thought that odd? Even odder was the fact that one of the ships that had disappeared two years ago had been carrying Roland Dawson himself. His brother, Timothy, had continued the business his brother had set up. Nothing changed. Seven ships had been lost since Roland disappeared at sea. Gabriel needed to have his people dig into this further. What was more needed was for him to go to the docks and speak with some of the men at the warehouse owned by the late earl and the late Roland Dawson. Together, Gabriel found the brothers owned a few pieces of property together. A building here, a ship there, never enough to draw notice. Until now, and he would get to the bottom of it all.
Gabriel doubted that Savannah knew of these matters. Her father and brother had taken charge of her late husband’s affairs as her brother was an American lawyer and kept a rather large practice outside Boston.
He rose and walked across the room to where he kept a selection of liquor decanters. He picked up the French brandy and poured a glass. As he swirled the dark amber liquid, he pulled out his timepiece. Glancing down, he noted it was about time for him to prepare for this evening’s event, the annual concert the Dowager Duchess of Hastings was holding. She had done so since before her late husband died, and it was still one of the premier events to be invited to. It wasn’t huge and pretentious, but the duchess had a keen sense of whom to invite, including people like himself, who appreciated the musicians she hired from the Continent. Some years, there might be an operatic singer to enhance the music; others, it was simply the small ensemble she put together. Afterward, the duchess served light refreshments, and he usually used this as an excuse to leave. Not that he didn’t enjoy the food served, it just gave him an opportunity to depart. The last thing he wanted was to feel as though he was being cornered by an adoring mother in search of a well-titled peer for her daughter.
Would Mrs. Dawson be in attendance this evening? The feelings he had about her whenever she was in a room were unsettling. Gabriel caught himself thinking about her, carnal, lustful thoughts he probably shouldn’t be having. Not only was she the widow of a dear friend, love had turned out disastrously for him before. He found himself wanting to touch her, to run his tongue and lips across her smooth, silky skin. His base feelings went further. He wanted to taste her, to feel every part of her body. Her scent even made his cock harden, and he knew, despite his misgivings, he wanted to make her his.
Chapter Nine
Savannah was admiring a group of potted orange trees that had been brought in from the duchess’s conservatory. She had never seen one before. The closest she ever got was listening to Roland tell her about all the marvels to be found in the Caribbean. He enthralled her with stories of the lime, lemon, and orange trees that grew there.
“Granny has always had a fondness for oranges. Pineapples too,” a young woman said from behind.
Savannah turned to find a woman close in stature to her, with flaming red hair and piercing green eyes. Immediately, she was entranced. She’d never seen a woman with such unique beauty.
“Lady Asher is your grandmother?” Savannah asked.
“Yes. I’m Fiona MacGregor. My mother is the youngest of Granny’s children. Also the most rebellious. She married a Scot just because she knew her mother had a distaste for them.” She smiled warmly.
“My mother-in-law is much the same way.”
Fiona arched a brow. “How’s that?”
“The dowager countess isn’t fond of Americans, especially in her family, but I’m afraid she’s stuck with us.”
“Us?”
“Me and my son, Vincent, who�
�s now the earl.”
“We ought to get along famously,” Fiona declared. She looked around the room. “It’s time. Would you care to sit with me? It appears Lady Dawson is caught up in conversation with my granny and some of the other older women.”
“Thank you. I dread things like this since I don’t know anyone.”
Savannah followed Fiona to a row of chairs in the center of the room. They were divided into two sections. People were beginning to take their seats as well, and fortunately, Fiona was able to find two nearest the outside. Savannah hated feeling trapped and was grateful her newfound friend didn’t lead her inside.
The music was just starting when a tall, imposing figure sat down two rows in front of them. It took Savannah a moment to realize the well-dressed man was the duke. From her angle, the only thing she could tell was he wore a well-tailored black jacket. A young woman wearing a dark-rose gown moved three seats over in order to sit next to him. She wished she was closer so she could hear their conversation, because the duke didn’t appear very happy with this intruder.
“She certainly has some nerve, assuming the duke would want a companion,” Fiona quipped.
“Who is she?”
“Miss Augusta Statton. Her father is Viscount Hastings. The chit practically throws herself at Clevedon every time she runs into him. She’s determined he’s going to marry her.”
Savannah shook her head. “I very much doubt the duke can be made to do something he doesn’t want to do. He strikes me as that sort of man.”
“I didn’t realize you knew him.”
“He’s a neighbor of ours, and he’s also taken on the responsibility of seeing to my son’s upbringing, with some persuasion from Lady Dorset.”
“Beware of Miss Statton, then. She won’t be pleased when she learns this.”
“I don’t see how it should concern her one way or another.”
The music started. Chopin. Not one of her favorite composers, but to hear his music played by some of the finest musicians was cause for her to take notice of the complexity of his compositions.
Savannah caught herself staring in the duke’s direction, Miss Statton seated next to him with a subtly smug smile. She couldn’t imagine the duke being remotely interested in her. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, just ordinary, with mousy-brown hair swept up off her neck.
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