Will leaned forward as well. “That is no threat,” he said in a low, measured tone.
Hammond resumed his earlier lounging position. “I’ll be havin’ me men on the docks tomorrow.”
“We have an agreement then?” Will pressed for the other man to say the words, knowing he wouldn’t risk his own life to go back on them.
“Aye. We have an agreement.” Hammond stood and crossed to the door. “Ye can find yer own way out.” He picked up the gown Belle left behind. “I gots a woman or two to tup.” He walked into the hall.
Just as eager to leave as his adversary was to get into Belle’s bed, Will stood. He’d taken only a few steps when the other man appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, and Lazarus, I ain’t seen or talked to no dukes or their men in me life. I guess ye gave me the docks fer nuthin’.” He left the room, roaring with laughter.
Will let him go. Giving up control of part of the docks was a small price to pay for peace of mind. Knowing how much Hammond had coveted them for years, he was certain the other man would keep his word and not make a move against him or his men.
Now it was time to teach the duke a very painful lesson.
Chapter Ten
“It’s true. Sandhurst has left London.”
Will breathed in through his nose in an effort to quell his rising temper. “You’re certain?”
“Aye.” Fingers stood just inside the door.
Will stood, anger pushing him into movement. He paced between his desk and the fireplace. “He will pay for what he’s done to Mary. If it takes my very last breath, he will pay.”
“He canna run forever,” Fingers said in a quiet voice.
“Find him before the coward decides to leave the country. Bribe, threaten, do what you have to, but find that bastard and bring him to me.”
Fingers nodded and moved to leave the room.
“Find Patrick and tell him to be here in the morning.” Will took another deep breath and resumed his seat behind the desk.
“I was gonna have him help find the duke. He’s verra good at that sort o’ thing.”
“So he is.” Will picked up the ruby-encrusted dagger he always kept on his desk and tapped it against his hand. “He and I will have a discussion first.” It was time to make certain the lad knew what the consequences were if Olivia continued to feel threatened.
“He’s still young, still learnin’, ya ken?”
“I do understand, but he needs to learn there are boundaries and consequences if he crosses them.”
“But—”
Will held up his hand. “I’m going to talk to him, nothing more…this time.”
Fingers opened his mouth. Will cut him off. “Give Patrick my message and find Sandhurst. You, of all people, know how important this is to me.”
“Aye. I do. But you mustna lose your humanity in your quest for revenge.”
“I believe that was lost long ago.” Will touched the back of his neck, realized what he was doing, and clenched his hand into a fist.
“If yer not careful, ye will become just like him,” Fingers said in a low voice.
“Him?” Will questioned, though he knew exactly who Fingers was referring to.
“The man who raised you.”
“He did
not
raise me.” Will’s voice rose with each word. “He beat me, starved me, tortured me, but he did not raise me.” He stood and slammed both hands on the desk, his chest heaving with anger. “Now get the hell out and find Sandhurst.”
Fingers stood there a moment longer before leaving and closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
Will closed his eyes and forced himself to swallow the anger, the humiliation he felt at what he’d suffered as a youth. He learned long ago control was the answer to everything. Control over himself, his emotions, over his men and his empire. And he’d worked at developing the iron will that allowed him to live without losing that control and allowed him to do what he had to.
He slumped into his chair, rested his elbows on the desk, his forehead in his hands. If he could just find Mary, get her out of whatever asylum Sandhurst had her committed to. He wanted so badly to find her, to make it up to her for whatever atrocities she’d suffered, to take care of her for the remainder of her life. Perhaps then he could begin a new life for himself. But he couldn’t move on, couldn’t let go of the past until he knew she was safe, until she was with him again.
He wished…no, he didn’t wish. He’d learned a long time ago wishes were for children and fools. Distracted from his thoughts by a sound, he lifted his head, listening. A storm was coming. He sat for a moment as the import of that ominous rumble became clear. Jumping up from the chair, he snatched his coat from where it hung on a hook near the door and left the room.
****
Will eased the door open, slipped inside, and closed it behind him. He leaned against the polished oak door for a moment. A fire burned in the grate, sending shadows dancing against the walls. He took a step forward, the bed beckoning to him like a lover.
What was he doing here? She was no doubt sound asleep. Drawn to the bed, he would just look at her to ensure she was fine and then take his leave. As he moved closer, he realized what he thought was a body was actually a mound of pillows and bedclothes. He whipped back the sheets. Empty. Where was she? Was she in her lover’s bed while he risked the wrath of the storm to come here? To be certain the thunder hadn’t sent her back to her memories of the past.
Anger flared to life at the thought of her lying with another man. He tamped it down. He had no right to feel anything for her. She was too high in the instep to even consider him a friend much less anything more. The only reason she didn’t give him the cut direct was because of their bargain. He turned to go when he heard it—a whimper like that of a child. Tilting his head, he concentrated on the silence. Had he imagined the sound? Thunder crashed overhead, and rain began to beat against the windows. There it was, the same sound, only louder now.
He crossed the room and stopped in front of the only other door in the room. He set his ear against the wooden panel and listened. The strangled sob that came from within had him turning the knob and stepping inside.
Tens of candles stood in a circle on the floor in the middle of the small room, filling it with enough light that it could have passed for mid-afternoon. Pale yellow drapery hung at the windows and was repeated in the carpet. In the far corner with her legs hugged to her chest, sat Olivia, her face pressed to her knees. Another whimper escaped her as thunder rumbled and lightning flashed through the room.
A strange sense of what he could only describe as relief filled him as he slowly made his way to her. She was here, not with a lover. Here, safe with him.
He eased up beside her before crouching down. “Olivia,” he said in a gentle voice.
She jumped at the sound of his voice. “W-what are you doing here?” Her eyes were huge, her face pale.
“I wanted to ensure you were all right.” At her strange look, he gestured to the window. “The storm.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“You shouldn’t be alone.” He sat on the floor next to her.
A crack of thunder reverberated through the room, and she squeezed her legs harder, rocking back and forth. “Please let it end soon. It’s not cannon fire. I’m home, I’m safe,” she whispered the last words over and over.
Her misery tore at his heart. Wanting to offer what comfort he could, Will shifted closer and wrapped an arm around her back. She stiffened and moved away. Stung by her actions, he tried not to let it show. All that mattered right now was that he help her through the storm. Not sure how to offer comfort without touching her, he sat beside her, hoping his presence would be enough.
Lightning flashed, and she clutched at his hand. Hers felt small and helpless. He folded his fingers around it. It was as cold as ice. He needed to get her warm. He gave her hand a squeeze, released her, pushed to his feet, and lifted her into his arms. When she leaned her head against his shoulder, he knew her fear had won the battle. He skirted the candles and carried her to the bed in the adjacent room.
He laid her down, and she rolled on her side, continuing to whisper to herself about the storm. Will pulled the coverlet over her. “I will return in a moment.” He reached out to touch her but touched the edge of the bed instead before turning away.
Once back in the smaller room, he extinguished the candles save for one. As he stood, he realized it was her dressing room. An enormous chest of drawers stood on the opposite wall, shoes from dancing slippers, to walking shoes, to half boots stood in a neat row like soldiers waiting for inspection. A tub for bathing was in the near corner. He quickly turned away, but an image of her surrounded by steaming water as it lapped against the tops of her breasts floated into his mind.
He gave his head a shake to dispel the image and blew out a breath. Thoughts like that shouldn’t include the likes of her. Taking the candle with him, he left the room and closed the door. He set the beeswax taper into a holder on a small table.
Olivia’s shaky exhalation drew his attention. He removed his coat, sat on a dainty chair he wasn’t sure would hold his weight, and removed his boots, never once letting his gaze leave her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, the fingers of her fist pressed against her mouth.
The mattress listed as he climbed onto the bed behind her. He settled her back against his chest, the blankets an effective barrier between them. He wrapped his arm over her and cupped her hand in his, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of her palm. He knew she was lost to the storm when she let him comfort her without complaint.
A loud crack of thunder sounded overhead seeming to make the house shudder. Olivia shrank back against him as though seeking his warmth. Will pulled her closer, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair at her temple. As the storm eased, Olivia drifted off to sleep.
Loathe to leave her, he lay beside her for a long time after the thunder faded away. It seemed as if his heart beat in rhythm with her breathing. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt this way before. He wished he could stay until the morning but knew it would do irreparable damage to her reputation to be found in bed with a man. And to be forced to wed the likes of him, she’d become a social pariah in an instant.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair and rose from the bed with care so as to not disturb even the mattress. He pulled on his boots, slung his coat over his arm when her voice froze him in place.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Lazarus.” Her eyes were already closing as she drifted back into a peaceful slumber.
“Will,” he corrected though he doubted she heard him. With one last look at the sleeping beauty he was leaving behind, he slipped from the room and into the night.
Fingers stood waiting for him where he’d left his horse in the neighboring stable. He nodded to the young lad who was doing his best to keep Fingers away from Titan. Will flipped a shilling to the boy for watching over the horse for him. The youth caught the coin in mid-air and disappeared into the depths of the stable.
“I’ve readied the list for ye,” Fingers said. “Patrick is waitin’ around the corner with the coach.”
“You expect me to leave tonight?” Will brushed a hand down Titan’s nose.
“’Tis for the best, is it not?” Fingers asked, sending a pointed look in the direction of Olivia’s home. “You shouldna be dallying with the likes o’ her. That kind of woman expects marriage to be part of the deal.”
“I wasn’t dallying with her. I was…” Will trailed off, not wanting to divulge Olivia’s secret, her fear of thunder and the horrors the sound of it forced her to relive.
“As ye say.” Fingers didn’t bother to hide his disbelief.
Will tossed Titan’s reins to his friend. “I trust you will take care of things while I’m gone?”
“Of course.”
“Keep Harry on Olivia. Tell him to follow her, see she comes to no harm. Let it be known she is under my protection.”
Fingers opened his mouth, closed it, then gave a nod of acquiescence. “Verra well.”
“I’ll send word if I find Mary.”
“Mayhap ye should be checking the convents and nunneries, too. We canna be leaving her in a place like that either.”
“It would be a damn sight better than an asylum,” Will said, though he agreed a convent was no place for Mary. “I’ll see you in a few days.” He turned and left the stable.
“Don’na be losing ye temper. Ye tend ta do things ya shouldna when that happens,” Fingers called after him.
Will ignored the warning. He’d do whatever he had to, to gain entrance to the asylums on the list. They were his best hope of finding his sister, certain as he was that Sandhurst had hidden her away in one of them. Though it wouldn’t hurt to investigate any convents and such in the areas near the asylums.
He took one last look at the window he knew to be Olivia’s bedchamber. He hoped there would be no storms while he was gone. The thought of her having to go through them alone tore at him for a reason he couldn’t quite explain, not even to himself.
Chapter Eleven
“What are you doing here?” Olivia jolted into an upright position, the blanket held nearly to her chin, at the sight of Lazarus entering her room.
Without a word he moved to the bed, climbed on it, and pulled her to him, her back to his front.
She broke free and nearly fell off the bed in her haste to get away from him. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice shrill.
Will slowly sat up. “It’s been a difficult day. I wanted to see you.”
“You’re in my bed. I’m…I’m not dressed.” Her hand clutched the neckline of her night rail closer.”
“I’m not
in
your bed. I’m on your bed, on top of the bedclothes. You are
in
your bed, under a sheet and blanket.” He looked her up and down, taking in what little he could see of her plain cotton nightgown. “And you are dressed. Even your hair is still properly contained.” He gestured to the braid resting on her breast.
“I’m not. I’m in my…my…”
“You’re not nude, are you?”