“Let’s send a couple of wagons for the bourbon. That is a good idea. Your father likely won’t even notice until months from now. Leave the opium to me. Let’s talk about your sister. What went wrong?”
“The chit jumped out of the carriage of all things. She somehow managed to escape and make it home. And now The Dark Duke has come sniffing around her skirts.”
“Focus, Robert. It matters not who asks for her hand for she shall not live to give it. What else did the driver say?”
“He brought me her fan. He stank even worse than this warehouse. Also, the upstart demanded money for lost fare that night, or he’d report us. I paid him. But now I’m out of ready for any play at Whites.” Robert stared at him meaningfully.
Jarvis, despite the anger welling up urging him to punch Robert at the failed mission, sighed resignedly and gave him a wad of bills. “He will need to be taken care of. Otherwise, he will bleed us dry,” he said as he slapped a few pounds into Robert’s hand.
“Yes, he does. Wait. No, I am not going to kill him. That is beneath one of my class.”
“If Boss finds out you’re a loose end, you will be killed,” Jarvis pointed out quietly.
Robert’s skin went sallow in the lamplight. “I’ll take care of it,” Robert said, his voice barely a squeak. “It’ll be worth it once I have Lillian’s money.” The thought seemed to brighten him, and Jarvis smiled at him.
“Exactly.”
“If I’d known how easy it was to forge a will, I’d have offed her years ago, the proudful chit. Always acting as she’s so much better than I am. That title should be mine. She’s just a girl.”
It always took so much restraint when he was around his nephew. He imagined that it was probably like it would have been with his own son. The silly ass could not see that if it wasn’t for his mother having the title in the first place, he’d not have it either, regardless if Lillian was born first or not. “You will get your rightful titles,” was all he said, egging him on, knowing which buttons to push to get him to do as he needed done. Nephew or not, he had to carry his weight.
“Quite right. I’ll make sure she is not so proud when I’m through with her.” He scowled. “But Father has banished me to the country. How will I get to her now?”
“You will go get the bourbon tomorrow, oversee it getting here, then you will stay low and sleep at my place. My servants won’t dare speak of it if I tell them not to. We will work out a new plan from there.”
Robert’s countenance brightened. “Thanks, Uncle. I wish you were my father. You understand me so much better than he does. Father is weak, full of ideas about honor and nobility, how we need to help those lesser than us when they should be grateful we allow them to live.”
For a moment, pride filled Jarvis, and he clamped a hand tightly on Robert’s shoulder. “Go on, then. Bring the bourbon back, then we will see you at my townhouse. Come in the back entrance and be sure that no one sees you.”
“Aye, Uncle. I shall be fast and efficient.”
“See that you are. We will talk tonight when I am back from Lady Crowder’s soiree.”
Robert frowned. “Too bad I have to miss it. There are so many willing ladies searching for a lord with a title.” He laughed lewdly. “They will still be there when I have Lillian’s money. I plan on seducing a fair lot of the chits from the lesser families, whether they want it or no. I am the next Earl of Lamberth.”
Sorry, boy, no you’re not. I am. Still, he felt a real pang of regret. Robert was growing into his own. But he couldn’t risk Robert marrying some chit and planting his seed in her.
“That’s right, son. Now, do as I bid.”
“Yes, Uncle.” Robert sauntered off.
Jarvis heard the rolling wheels of the carriage with the clomp of horseshoes. “You can come out now,” he called out. He’d had his own backup in case Boss or Robert became overly friendly on his person with a knife or their hands. He shivered as he thought of those bodyguards. They were almost enough to make one believe in specters. They were so creepy, made no noise, not even speech.
He made arrangements for the barrels to be emptied, but double checked in case some really were opium. Then he went to his own carriage and headed home, pondering his next move. At least Robert could be counted on to take the bourbon, if only to upset his father. He knew, too, that Robert would take care of the cabbie. He wouldn’t want to be bled dry of the precious money he coveted so much. He’d taught his nephew well.
Too bad he had to kill him.
Chapter Ten
He stared at Lillian from afar, as he had for so many other events. Despite his personal animosity toward her uncle, her visage, her laughter, had kept him awake many a night. Now, he finally had a chance to see her up close beyond the bounds society put on them, hold her, to claim her, and the desire for her only increased. Like a gambler unable to resist throwing in the last cards, he moved to her.
He’d married her despite her family’s dissent and despite his own vengeance on the horizon. She laughed and danced at the wedding feast, then stared into his eyes. The world melted away as he soaked in her approval and her love. He led her upstairs to his suite which had been prepared earlier. A tray of cheeses and breads and wine lay upon a wooden table he’d had brought up just for such a purpose.
With reverence, he slid his hands down her shoulders and turned her. The tiny buttons on her dress flummoxed him for a moment because his hands shook. What if she hated him after she found out about his plans for Jarvis? No, he threw that thought out of his mind and continued to undress his new wife. Once he had the dress down, she faced him once more in little but a chemise and stockings.
Moving closer, he traced down her cleavage then back up, cupping her face. Then, after a moment of staring into those green windows to her pure soul, kissed her fiercely, possessively. He held her against his dick, trying to get her used to the idea of their pairing. His control slid away as she made little noises of pleasure in the back of her throat.
Forcing himself to slow down, he stepped back and took the pins out of her hair, letting them fall to the floor on her dress which still billowed out around her like a summer cloud, beads glittering in the candlelight.
“I want you, Lillian. No matter what happens, please believe me,” he said desperately and kissed her again. He pushed the top of her chemise down and rolled the nipples between his thumb and forefinger, then held her breast in his hand while teasing the tip with his thumb.
Little mewling noises left her. He guided her back toward the bed and lay her on it, following her down after he took off his trousers, kissing her neck. He explored the flat planes of her stomach down to the bare apex of her legs. He slid a finger in and found her wet, and he groaned at this further proof she wanted him. With the moistened fingers, he circled her clit until her body went taut under her.
Clarence made love to her for the night, but when he awoke the next morning, she was gone. Frantic that she’d learned the truth and left, he searched high and low for her. No one had seen her or could tell him where she went. Then he saw Lillian, and his heart cried out in denial. He struggled to reach her, but no matter how fast he ran, she always lay too far away for him to hold on to. Bright red blood shone on her chest, but otherwise, her body lay pale and lifeless on the ground. Yet her ghost taunted him. “Your fault. Your fault,” the specter seemed to say.
It pointed to him and the faulty kegs of opium. He pushed harder to reach her. Maybe he could still save her. But something in the dark, in the shadows just beyond her, cackled. Like an omen for evil, green, putrefied mist came from its mouth, covering Lillian.
He called out to the otherworld presence. “No, you can’t have her. I love her. Have loved her from afar for a long time.” God, why hadn’t he realized it sooner? Had his quest for revenge ruined their chance? Killed her? He bowed his head, quiet sobs wrenching his body. When he finally looked up again, the inky background had thickened, and staring back at him were blue eyes—his own ey
es?—from the eyes of the family’s lion crest.
Pain lashed over him when he tried to move again, to reach her and hold her, denying the thought that he was the one who caused her such grief, the cost, her life. His stomach and side complained rigorously. He frowned and grabbed where the pain centered. Why? He peered down. Now he was covered in thick, dark red and purply blood, rivets of black crawling out from the wound. Wait, he’d been stabbed. His head hurt as his mind tried to recall it.
But why was it black? Where was he? Dizzy, he fell back into a void.
With a strong burst of sucked in air, he sat up, awake, and stared around his study. When he tried to move his hand to his side, he found he couldn’t and stared down at it, only to find a head with hair the color of honey covering it. He smiled and extended his free hand to her hair, swiping the dark golden strands off her face. Her long lashes lay on her peaches and cream skin. Tenderly, he stroked her cheek, grateful beyond reason that she was alive and that his visions had been a dream.
Dream?
Why was he laying on this couch in the first place? Then his side throbbed, and the pain took his breath away. He gingerly repositioned to a prone state and whispered her name. “Lillian.”
She stirred, murmuring in her sleep, but did not wake up. “Lillian,” he said a bit louder, wiggling his hand under her.
All at once, she sat up, her hair spilling over her face again as she groggily peered at him. “Clarence? Oh, Clarence, you’re all right!” She sat up on her knees and threw her arms around his neck and cried.
He patted her back awkwardly, not sure what to say, especially with the visions of her in a chemise and responding to her touch so vivid in his head.
“Your fever spiked so high last night, I wasn’t sure you’d…”
She blinked rapidly, but he saw the sheen of tears. Could she care for him that much? He cupped her face in his hand. “How long have I been here?”
“Three nights,” Mother briskly said from the doorway. “And your betrothed has barely left your side. Tonight is your betrothal party, so I am very glad to see that you have deigned to join the land of the living and participate.”
He grinned. Mother had a unique sense of humor. “I could hardly have her showing up to our party alone, now could I? Of course I came back from Hades just for this.”
Lillian’s shocked laughter filled the room. “Oh Clarence! I am so happy you’re okay. Your mother may have mentioned once or twice that you were too stubborn to die on her just yet.”
“She did, huh?” He met his mother’s gaze, mouthing a silent thank you over Lillian’s shoulder as she hugged him again.
“Yes, and of course, she was right. Now, you must tell us who did this. We are calling the magistrate.”
“No,” he said, steel in his voice.
She pulled back from his embrace and searched his gaze. “What happened?”
“I was hurt on the docks,” he said. “Happens when you have shipping ventures.” He tried to signal with his eyes toward his mother, and she gave a quick nod.
“I suppose it was wont to happen to someone. Promise me you won’t go there alone again,” she implored.
“I second this. I am still your mother, and I forbid you to go out to those wretched docks alone at night. Take George or your other friend from the war, at least.”
“Take George where, Aunt?”
Clarence saw his mother wince a half second before her features smoothed out into their normal, regal bearing. Not bothering to turn toward Amber, she said, “Anywhere that Clarence goes after nightfall. I am rather bored of having bounders and brigands attacking him as he does his business.”
He watched his cousin come through the library to where he lay, saw the flash of surprised knowledge on her face with eyes so close to his own, a family trait.
“Is that what happened to you?” she asked.
He’d not seen his cousin much since his father died. The carefree cousin had been one of many who had been playing in the water at the estates until they grew too old, but she seemed different to him now. He couldn’t pin down what caused the feeling. “I was simply checking on the warehouses along the dock and lost track of time. I was attacked.”
Oddly, he was more uncomfortable with telling the lie in front of Lillian than in speaking it to his cousin. He lay back on the arm of the chaise. “So, tonight is the betrothal party? It was moved?”
“Your mother hadn’t sent the invites out yet when you returned, so we moved it to give you an extra day. Father has been here a couple of times, as has Mother. You might be interested to know that he said the Marquess has bowed out.” The mischief in her eyes had him smiling at her, forgetting others were in the room.
“Is that so,” he said smugly and considered kissing those rosy lips.
“I expect he shall now be glad to entertain your suit. I, however, am still peeved at the right scare you have given me.” Her face turned serious, those expressive eyes searching his. “Do not do that again, my lord. I have found that worry and I do not get on well together.” Her voice had dropped lower, and she’d grabbed his hand.
“I shall endeavor to not put you—”
His mother cleared her throat.
“—or Mother through this again.” With any luck, the shipment was out to sea on its way to ruining Jarvis, and he’d not have to think on it again.
“Hmph. Very gracious of you, my lord.” Her lower lip extended out slightly as if in a play pout. He saw her eyes twinkling in laughter, but also, something softer dwelled there, something new he’d very much like to explore.
When her eyes darkened and she licked her lips, he had a strong urge to pull her into his arms for a resounding kiss, his health be damned.
“Quite gracious,” Mother said, her tone like that when he was a teen caught at something.
He threw a glance at her and saw her knowing look and blushed as if he were still a young man discovering women.
“Come, Lillian,” Mother said, her hand held out. “You must rest before the evening’s festivities. Three gowns have arrived. You must choose which one you will be wearing so that your maid may retrieve the appropriate accoutrements.”
It was gratifying to see the reluctance upon Lillian’s face as she rose and shook out her pink and white striped skirts. “Of course, Your Grace.” Giving a sidelong glance to the others, she then bent and surprised him with a kiss on his cheek. “I am very glad that you are still with me, my lord. It seems George’s record is intact. I look forward to this evening.”
She pivoted and then went out with the dowager, turning back at the door and giving him a shy smile. Something had happened while he lay unconscious, for that smile held something which hadn’t been there before today. Perhaps it was seeing him so near to death? Could she care for him?
“Cousin,” he said, realizing she didn’t leave with the others.
Her gaze glittered at him like icicles dropping from the eves. “It is fortunate you weren’t killed. Perhaps you should keep away from the docks at night,” she said.
“I plan to,” he said truthfully. “As you just saw, both Mother and my affianced have taken me to task already.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she put on the gloves she’d been holding. “Oh. Then. I must see to Lillian’s things. Janice is good, but I am better. I promise, your fiancé shall take your breath away tonight.”
He thought of how he’d found her upon awakening. “She quite does already,” he admitted softly. “I appreciate you helping her.”
She raised a brow. “I am a paid companion, much to Father’s disgust. This is the shortest one on record, I’ll wager.” She tilted her head, and her eyes narrowed as if assessing him. “I’d go so far as to say you will not allow the traditional six months or more for wedding planning.”
He raised his own brow. “You sound very sure of yourself,” he answered noncommittedly.
A slow, impertinent smile swept across her features. “I always am,” she rep
lied then left him alone.
Before he’d had time to ponder her odd behavior, George and Farnsworth appeared. “My lord, we shall help you up the stairs and get you into a bath.”
Clarence started to protest until he tried to swing his legs to the floor. “It seems I must allow it, George, though it is damned inconvenient. However, it is important that I appear to be fit. I do not want word to get out about my convalescence.”
“Aye, my lord. You said as much that night. Everyone in the household has been informed, as well as our guests.”
“You mean Lady Amber?”
“No, Sir. Lady Amber is staying with the Dowager Duchess at her townhouse. Lady Sarah is here with Lady Lillian, making sure that your Lillian eats.” George put one arm around his shoulders as he spoke.
“Eats? Why wasn’t she eating,” Clarence asked as he put his other arm around Farnsworth, soaking up the warmth that hearing her called his Lillian produced. When did he become such a softy?
“I am sure I don’t know if you don’t, my lord,” George said tartly.
“Easy on me, George. I had the most twisted dreams. Can you tell me or not?” Clarence winced as he put weight on his bad side, but each step became a bit easier. He continued to lean on them to save his strength, but he thought he’d be up to a show of dancing tonight, as long as no one bumped him.
George let out a huge, put-out sigh. Clarence hid his smile. George had been an honorary uncle to him growing up and liked to make a show of dramatics with him. “Isn’t it obvious, my lord? She cares about your person. Though why, is beyond me, as you were a gruesome sight. She hardly flinched.”
Clarence stopped abruptly. “She saw the wound?”
“My lord, she saw and helped to change the bandaging. I am right honored she is to be your duchess, if I may say so, my lord.”
“If I can convince her to stay.”
“I just told you she cares, my lord.”
“If I may, George is right. The servants are all talking about it, sir, how you found a wife who will be worthy of you.”
Clarence started moving again. “Damn it,” he said, but with no heat.
Darkest Valentine Page 9
