The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga) (10 page)

Once behind closed doors, Wentworth went to the sideboard and poured
amber liquid into one glass and downed it. “Please, sit.”

After William seated himself in the leather chair opposite the desk,
Wentworth sat down as well.

 “I am not a blind or stupid man.” Angry eyes, full of deadly
venom, glared across the large desk at William. “Something happened between my
sister and you in the library. I know the look of a woman seduced. God help you
if you went too far.”

William swallowed. He would not be intimidated by the duke. “I didn’t.”

“Good. I pride myself on being a good and caring brother. And Lord
knows I have given my sisters way too much freedom when it comes to many
things. But when it comes to you and Amelia, I will never agree to a friendship
between you two.” He rose.

With hands clasped behind his back the duke paced across the small
room. “I realize you have had some hard times. The death of your brother must
have been painful. And then to have his wife die such a short time later…”
Wentworth stopped pacing and looked out the window, his back to William. “I can
try to understand the pain of your loss, but the truth is I cannot really. Nor
will I insult you by telling you I do.” He paused and leaned his hands on
either side of the window. “My sister, Lady Amelia, has had her own share of
tragedy. And I’m quite sure you have heard the rumors about her. I will not
deny or confirm them to you. That is for my sister to do. But I will tell you
one thing, quite plainly.” Wentworth spun around and strolled toward him with
all the confidence due a man of his status. “Stay away from her. She needs to
marry someone with an impeccable reputation. And that someone is not you.”

William considered himself a patient man. However, after the
altercation with Sir Phillip Trenton earlier in the day, patience no longer had
a place inside him. And he would not let the duke dictate his life.

“Your Grace, mayhap you should seek out your sister and see what it is
she wants. Don’t her feelings mean anything to you?”

Wentworth cocked a brow.

Rising to his feet, William’s hands fisted down by his sides and he
fought down his demons. He would not give the duke the satisfaction of seeing
him riled. “Does your sister’s happiness mean so little to you?” William walked
toward the door, but paused with his hand on the knob. “I thought you a better
man than that.” He shook his head and drew up his chin. “Please tell Spencer I
will meet him outside.”

Several minutes later, sitting in his carriage opposite his cousin,
William finally unclenched his fists and rubbed his hands together to work out
the cramps. “I have had enough of London. I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.”

Spencer frowned at him. “You will let Wentworth drive you back into
exile. For what, coveting his sister? Don’t be a damn fool. This is your chance
to finally have happiness.” Spencer raised his hand, silencing William when he
indicated he would speak. “I know you thought you were happy once before with
Katherine, but were you really? She never belonged to you.”

The look in Spencer’s eyes made William uncomfortable as hell.

“I see how Lady Amelia looks at you,” Spencer continued. “She is in
love with you. And if you are too mule headed to recognize you feel the same,
then I pity you. Even though you sequestered yourself in the country for twelve
years, you were never a coward.”

“Bloody hell!” William yanked his hat off and raked his fingers through
his hair. “You do not understand.”

Spencer leaned back in the seat, crossed his arms, and rested them on
this chest. “Explain it to me then.”

“I can’t. I can hardly understand it myself. I have all these
conflicting feelings tugging at my insides. One minute I want to kill Trenton
for what he did. Then I want to prove he did it and let him rot in Newgate. On
other days, I want to escape and forget all the pain of my past.” William
looked up and met Spencer’s eyes, knowing his own eyes were haunted. “There
were many days I sat at my desk with my revolver in my hand. But as you said, I
have never been a coward. Taking my life would never make Trenton pay for his
sins. Stark numbness took over my world. And let me tell you, it is not any
less painful now that the numbness has faded. In its own way it’s much worse. I
feel too much.” He paused to take a breath.

“Will you help me? I want to hire the best Bow Street Runner there is.
I only wish I had come to my senses and done this years ago.”

Closing his eyes, William breathed deeply, steadying his heartbeat.
“But then again, I’d had nothing to live for. Deep down inside, I believe
Amelia needs me and wants me, as I know I need and desire her. In the meantime,
I will respect Wentworth’s wishes and stay away from her.” He rubbed his chin.
“How utterly stupid of me to think I could leave London and Amelia behind.”

“Cousin,” Spencer replied, “I will do anything I can to help. I know of
a runner who has an impressive reputation. Let’s pay Mr. Smythe a visit
tomorrow. Why we didn’t do this years ago I will never understand.” Spencer
paused then continued. “It’s different now, though you may not, understand that
difference. I believe I do. You didn’t care before. It’s damn good to have you
caring about your life now. Finally.” Spencer grinned deviously. “You should
even find your way into Parliament. Finally take your seat.”

Laughter burst
from William, causing his eyes to water. “Wouldn’t that cause a ruckus. I’ll
think on it.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When her brother, the duke, walked back into the library, Amelia’s
already frazzled nerves worsened. The expression on his face did not bode well
for her. She’d seldom seen that look. And when she had, everyone had scattered
out of his way. Somehow she did not think she had any choice but to stay put.

“I wish to speak to Amelia in private,” Wentworth said in his most
influential tone.

Emma, Bella, and Sebastian all exchanged sympathetic looks with her
before they quit the room, leaving her and her brother alone in uncomfortable
silence. Amelia waited and waited, fighting back tears. How much did he know?

“Amelia…” Wentworth sighed as he sat in the chair opposite her and
looked straight into her eyes with his stormy blue ones. “I don’t even know
where to begin.” His hand went up to silence her, as he began to speak. “I am a
man. Things happened between Emma and I before we married that would shock
Society. Shock our family.” He paused and rubbed his chin. “I know how men are.
I know what drives them. And I know the look when a woman’s been…” He blushed.
Dear God, her brother blushed.

“Don’t make me say it. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.”
Wentworth jumped up from his seat and paced in front of the fireplace. “You had
that look, so do not even deny it. You were alone with Bridgeton. Alone for
quite some time, if my perception is correct.” He took a deep breath and shook
his head, “What I want to know is why. Why would you risk getting yourself with
child again? Because even I do not think we can pull off keeping it a secret
another time.”

Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped away the tears
streaming down her cheeks. Shame. Her chest burned with shame. Her brother
should pack her bags and throw her out into the street for coming close to
shaming the family once again. 

“I truly believe Yarmouth will make the perfect husband for you,”
Wentworth began speaking again. “I can see how much you and Bridgeton care for
one another, but it will never work because of Olivia. The quickest way to your
daughter is through Yarmouth. May I send notice to him that he has my blessing
to ask for your hand? I know this is not what you want. And if I do contact
Yarmouth, may I discuss Olivia with him?” He paused and took a deep breath. “Will
you ever forgive me for this?”

“Will you consider William for me?” she ventured, knowing full well
what her brother’s answer would be.

“No.”

Amelia blinked her eyes before she rested them on her brother’s
handsome face, a face so like Sebastian’s and Bella’s and Papa’s. She was the
only one who resembled their mother. It could not be easy being Wentworth after
all the scandal surrounding their father––his gambling, his mistresses, and his
drunken death. Wentworth took over a financially doomed Seabrook family and
worked diligently to bring respectability back into the family. Even if he
hadn’t come into the Hamilton fortune by marrying Emma, Amelia knew he would
have prevailed against adversity. He had selflessly given his family everything
he had to give.

 She understood that Wentworth had her best interests at heart.
And if marrying Yarmouth would give her back her daughter, then perhaps she should
consent.

“Send word to Yarmouth that he may ask for my hand. And Wentworth,
there is nothing to forgive. You are doing what any good brother would do. I
will do my family duty and commit myself to being the best wife ever.” Amelia
forced a smile. “You could wish me to marry Lord Rockport or Lord Eastham.”

Wentworth laughed. “I would never. But I thank you for consenting to
marry the duke. I have complete faith in him—that he is worthy and will make
you happy.”

***

Later that afternoon, while lounging on a chaise in her room, Amelia
contemplated her future as the Duchess of Yarmouth. Soon after her nuptials,
she could fake her maid’s death and beg to adopt Olivia as their own. How hard
could that be? Would not the duke do anything for his new bride?

Dear God, could she let herself believe it could be that easy?

Then she thought of William. Sobs painfully escaped from deep inside
her chest as she envisioned his eyes laced with pain and sadness at the news of
her impending marriage to Yarmouth. She did not want to cause him pain. He of
all people deserved happiness and love.

***

“Welcome,” Mr. Smythe said to William and Spencer as they entered the
small, windowless, cluttered office of the Bow Street Runner. “What can I do
for you?”

“I am Lord Bridgeton, and this is my cousin, Mr. Spencer. We’ve come to
hire you to look into several murders.”

 Smythe put out his hand, indicating two wooden chairs across from
his desk. “Please sit and tell me about these murders.”

William and Spencer explained everything they knew about Katherine’s
parents’ carriage accident and Geoffrey’s and Katherine’s murders. They waited
patiently for the Runner to decide whether to take their case.

“Before you decide,” William said, “you should know that most people
believe I killed my brother and his wife. As for Katherine’s parents, it was
deemed an accident. Katherine disagreed. She suspected foul play.” William
rubbed his chin. “I realize years have gone by, but I believe Baron Trenton is
responsible, either directly or indirectly. You should also be aware, Trenton
has been blackmailing me with family secrets ever since my brother’s death.
Before that, he blackmailed Geoffrey for the same secrets only the three of us
knew. At least that’s what we thought.” He glanced at Spencer. Spencer nodded
his head. “Spencer knows as well. But that is all. No one else knows. There had
been rumors when my brother was alive, but that was all. Rumors, nothing more.”

“How did Sir Phillip Trenton come to know of this secret?” Smythe
asked.

“I don’t know,” William answered.

“If I take the case, I need to know the secret.”

“That is not an option,” William said quietly. “My brother’s secret is
his and his alone. He and I spent years and thousands of pounds keeping it
secret. I will not have it made public and ruin my dead brother’s reputation.”

“His secret will not leave this room. I will never speak of it to
another.” Smythe leaned forward in his chair and tilted his head as if waiting.
He could wait until hell froze over. William would not divulge his brother’s
secret.

“I realize, Lord Bridgeton, that you have kept this secret for many
years. But if I am to take on your case, I need to know everything down to the
smallest detail.”

William closed his eyes and groaned. “He preferred men.”

To his credit, Smythe did not blink. “Now the blackmailing makes sense.
But if what you say is the truth, how is it your sister-in-law came to be
pregnant?”

One brow rose as William stared at the Runner. If he could not
understand the gesture then he didn’t deserve to be hired.

“I understand.” Smythe pushed some papers aside. “I’ll take the case.
But I cannot guarantee that your brother’s secret will not come out. Sir
Phillip Trenton knows it, and there is nothing to stop him from announcing it
to anyone who will listen when he finds out he is under investigation.” Smythe
held up his hand as William began to interrupt. “I will do everything in my
power to keep Sir Phillip from knowing he is being investigated and followed.
But sometimes, even I cannot prevent truths from being exposed.”

William
did not like this one bit. But the time had come to have his brother’s murderer
revealed and punished. If Trenton had arranged for Katherine’s death, he had
also killed William’s own child. Pain radiated in his heart for that child and
for Katherine. Katherine’s brother Trenton needed to pay for all for he had
done. Would a scandal, if Geoffrey’s preferences toward males became known, be
worth it? He had to believe it would be. No shame could affect Geoffrey now.
The dead did not feel shame, only the living and William knew he could live
with it.

Even if they couldn’t prove Trenton murdered them, at least William
could hold his head high because he had finally tried to get justice. He would
go to his grave knowing he tried. “Will you take the case?”

“I will. I need a sizable sum up front as I will be hiring other
runners. We will keep Trenton within our sights at all times. Meanwhile, I will
personally look into the deaths you mentioned.” Smythe looked at William. “Is
there anything else I need to know?”

“No. If I think of something I’ll send a message. Meanwhile, send word
to my residence here in London if you find out anything. If I’m not in
residence there, send it to my country estate,” William replied.

Back in the carriage, William rubbed his aching temples with his index
fingers. “This has turned into a terrible day. I’ll give the Runner a week
before I head back to the country. If there’s no news, there will be nothing
here for me.”

“Nothing?” Spencer asked, his brows raised.

“You know what I mean.” He leaned back into the squabs, closed his
eyes, and sighed. “Nothing I can have, anyway.”

***

Amelia and her family were attending a small, formal gathering a week
later when she spotted Mr. Spencer and his two sisters across the large salon.
Before she knew it, her feet were moving at a quick pace, eating up the
distance between them. Tamping down her excitement at the thought that William
might have attended as well, she slowed her steps and nodded her head.

“Mr. Spencer, Mary, Elizabeth, how nice to see you again.” Her eyes
darted around, looking for him. “Is Bridgeton in attendance this evening?”
Subtle,
very subtle, Amelia.

The three Spencer’s glanced at one another before all six eyes fell on
her. Pity stared back at her. Understanding dawned. They need not say the
words. William had left. Unshed tears pooled in her eyes.

Amelia’s throat burned and her body trembled. Thank goodness Mr.
Spencer noticed when she started to sway. Grabbing her elbow tightly, he
escorted her outside into the cool night air to the nearest bench, where she
sat and filled her lungs with much needed air. Soon her head stopped spinning,
and she clasped her hands in her lap.

“Thank you,” Amelia murmured.

“For what?” Spencer asked.

“For not letting me make a fool of myself,” she replied with a hiccup.

“You could never do that.” Spencer’s low voice soothed her as much as
someone with a broken heart could be soothed.

Now she forced out the question for which she really didn’t want the
answer. “Did he leave?”

“It’s what he does best.”

“I realize I have no right to ask, but why?” she asked.

“Lady Amelia…” Spencer placed one hand over hers. “I’m sure William had
his reasons.”

“Is it because he heard of my betrothal to the Duke of Yarmouth?”

Mr. Spencer cleared his throat, squeezing her hands tightly before he
removed his hands from hers. “No. Even I did not know that. Are congratulations
in order?”

Amelia covered her face with her hands and cried. “The banns will be
posted tomorrow.” She raised her head and grasped one of Mr. Spencer’s hands.
“Tell William I’m sorry. I had no choice in the matter. Please tell him I wish
him all the happiness in the world. ”

“I will, Lady Amelia.”

With all the poise and grace she could muster, she stood up and ran her
hands down her skirts to smooth out any wrinkles. “Excuse me, Mr. Spencer. My
family must be wondering where I’ve gone.”

When Amelia stepped into the salon, dinner was announced and couples
lined up to file into the dining room.

“Amelia, there you are.” Sebastian held his arm out for her. “I was
beginning to think you had deserted me.” He leaned down and whispered, “By the
way, when you were gone, Lord Yarmouth arrived. I’m quite sure he was put out
when he could not find you.”

“Oh, Sebastian, I know I am committed to the duke, but how does a woman
marry a man she hardly knows?”

“My dear sister, after all the adversity you have faced in your young
life, marrying the duke should be easy.”

“But…”

“But nothing,” Sebastian interrupted. “You told our brother you would
wed the duke. You cannot change your mind now. The banns are being posted
tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Besides, the duke is young, wealthy, and handsome. All the debutantes
and their mothers will cry in their pillows at night once they know that he is
spoken for.”

She eyed the place cards on the table as Sebastian escorted her to her
seat. After Amelia sat down, she found herself staring across the table at the
young duke, her intended. Mr. Spencer sat to her left, and Bella to her right.
Thank God she had her sister for support and, of course, Mr. Spencer.

The first course arrived, and Amelia continually brought the spoon to
her mouth and returned it to the bowl un-sampled. The seafood stew smelled
divine, but her stomach coiled in revolt. Every time she looked across the table
the duke was staring at her intently. She could do worse, couldn’t she? She did
have another problem, aside from not loving him. He made her feel old, even
though he was six years her senior. With all she had experienced in her short
life, she felt years older. Yarmouth appeared, at times, very young and
untested in life experiences.

Occasionally he spoke to her from across the table and she nodded,
pretending to listen when she heard nothing but voices pummeling her from the
multiple conversations going on around her.

The duke appeared genial. Gentle even. Her guilty conscience plagued
her. He deserved a wife who loved him. Or at least one who wanted to marry him.

Why had she let Wentworth make her believe all would be well if she
married the duke? Because he said she would have her daughter if she did. That
was the solitary reason she agreed to this marriage. Her daughter meant more to
her than her own happiness. She would do anything to have Olivia close.