Chapter Three
If he didn’t know any better, Drew would have thought he was nursing the hangover from hell. The fact he hadn’t had a drink told him something else had his stomach roiling and his head pounding. The headaches hit him worst in the afternoons. He’d been here two weeks, and only felt relief when he was too preoccupied with Julia to notice the pain wrapped around his skull.
Who knew time travel was such a bitch on the body?
He couldn’t put his finger on what made him accept that he’d traveled through time so easily. Sure, he’d flipped out at first. Who wouldn’t? But he’d always been a practical guy. Seeing is believing, so they say. Well, he’d seen plenty, and he sure as hell believed.
He dropped his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Julia’s face immediately came to mind. She’d been freaked at the idea of replacing her husband in such a way. Who could blame her? He’d had to assure her theirs would be a marriage in name only.
More’s the pity.
She was flat out gorgeous. If he ever gave thought to what an angel would look like, he’d picture Julia.
Her looks weren’t the only thing that had him wanting to know her more. The few hints he’d had at her personality made his interest all the deeper. Something about the way she held herself and the wry sense of humor that had peeked through the awkwardness of the situation drew him to her.
His interest certainly ran deeper than as her bookkeeper.
But it was a start.
If he could save her from financial ruin, maybe she’d take a chance on getting to know him. It might not lead to anything, but if he was going to spend the rest of his life as her husband, he had to at least try to make it work.
Speaking of books. The numbers in front of him had started swimming an hour ago. He wasn’t getting much done. He’d spent hours going through the family’s financial status with Julia’s steward, Mr. Snell, this morning. There was something wrong with the books he’d been given, but Drew couldn’t put his finger on it. He just had that niggling sense at the back of his head that told him he needed to look deeper.
The numbers were ridiculously low. How could anyone possibly live on eleven pounds a year? Yet, he’d seen the upstairs maid. She obviously got enough to eat.
Even so, once he got past the difference inflation had caused in costs over two hundred years, something still wasn’t right. Or was it Mr. Snell’s sniveling manner that had him on edge?
A knock sounded at the closed study door.
“Enter,” he called out.
Walliker, the butler, stuck his head in. “Mr. Engledown to see you, my lord. I explained that you were quite busy and not entertaining this morning, but he insists. He is not to be deterred, my lord.”
Walliker obviously didn’t approve of such tactics. His face was set in even sterner lines than usual. Drew couldn’t blame him. From what Julia told him, Mr. Engledown had not endeared himself to the servants when he laid claim to the earldom so quickly after Payne’s death.
“See him in, if you please, Walliker. Is Lady Payne about?”
“In the drawing room, my lord.”
“Please inform her of our guest’s arrival.” He would need her here as a buffer. Julia and Mellicent had coached him, but chances were good he’d screw up somehow in the little details they hadn’t covered. “I’m sure she would like to see cousin Engledown.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Walliker bowed and left, closing the door behind him. Drew almost chuckled. He imagined cousin Vincent was going to have to rest his heels for at least a few minutes.
Drew rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t ready for this. He’d lucked out that not many people were in town so early in the year. Julia said though Parliament was open, the real social whirl of the social season wouldn’t begin until after Easter. They’d managed to avoid those few who showed up at their door upon learning of Payne’s “miraculous” return. Julia or Mellicent had sent them packing, claiming he wasn’t well enough for visitors.
They’d known Vincent wouldn’t be put off. The man had too much to lose. But they had thought it would take him longer to hear the news.
Julia had sent a message the morning after Drew’s arrival, but she’d sent it to the country house though Vincent was reportedly in Cornwall visiting a friend. She’d hoped it would take time for the message to make its way to him.
Not as long as they’d hoped. Damn it.
The door creaked open. “Mr. Engledown, my lord.”
“Thank you, Walliker.” Drew stood to greet his
cousin
. “Cousin. So good of you to visit.”
He supposed Vincent could be considered good looking. Julia had said the man had a reputation that made the ladies flock to him at dinner parties. His light brown hair had a wave to it that fell forward over his forehead, giving him a boyish quality that was belied by the hard lines of a square jaw. With all Julia had said of him, Drew was more inclined to see the squinty eyes and the pursed lips.
Drew kept the expression on his face pleasant. He was a pretty good judge of character, and his instincts warned him he had a shark standing before him.
Vincent strode into the room as if he owned it. Nodded to Walliker in a dismissive manner, all but saying, “You may leave.”
At Walliker’s hesitation, Drew indicated the butler was free to go. He withheld his smirk when he noticed the annoyance in Vincent’s expression. Oh, yeah. The man was not happy at this turn of events.
“Payne! Is it really you, my dear cousin? Surely, a miracle has occurred. Why, I witnessed your demise myself.”
“What is the saying? The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that quote.”
Mistake number one. Mark Twain hadn’t been born yet. On a positive note, he wasn’t sure he’d gotten the quote correct so he didn’t have to worry about being taken to task for it.
“I saw you shot and knocked off the ship myself. How could you possibly have survived?”
“We have to accept that we may never know. I fear my memory has been affected by my accident.” Drew held a hand to his head and winced. He didn’t have to fake his aching head. “I remember nothing of what occurred that night.”
Vincent didn’t look as upset by that news as Drew would have suspected. Vincent frowned, yet the slight relaxation of his shoulders gave the impression a weight had lifted off his mind. Did he have something to hide?
Drew needed to look into the details of Payne’s death. Vincent had certainly stood to gain a great deal. Would that have been enough for him to kill his own cousin?
The door creaked, and Julia glided in. Her face was flushed, and her chest rose and fell rapidly as if she’d run down the stairs, but she smiled as if everything were perfect in her world. “Cousin Engledown. What a pleasure. I’m so pleased you received my note in such quick order.”
“I received no note.” Vincent took her offered hand, placed a perfunctory kiss on her knuckles, and dropped her hand like it was covered in slime.
No love lost on his side, either, apparently.
“I sent it immediately upon Payne’s return. You must have crossed paths with my messenger.”
“Undoubtedly, that must be how it happened. Instead of hearing the good news from your own hand, I had a message from Mr. Snell and made my way here immediately. I can hardly believe our good fortune.”
Ah, so Snell was in Vincent’s pocket, was he? More fuel for his unease with the man. Drew would have to look through the books again with an eye toward theft. That could explain the discrepancies that had festered on the edges of his mind.
“I assumed someone was toying with you and made haste to come to your aid,” Vincent said with a sneer, the implication plain that he had yet to dismiss the idea entirely.
Julia drew her shoulders back, her face the picture of haughty disdain. “You thought I would not recognize my own husband?”
“I’m sure he meant no such thing, my lady.” Drew looked toward Vincent. “Did you, Cousin?” His headache receded on a tide of anger. He didn’t like Vincent’s tone of voice toward Julia.
“My lady has a tender heart. I believed your wish for the return of your beloved husband might have made you susceptible to the trickery of less honorable men. Please, take my concern as a compliment on your sweet nature—as I intended.”
“But of course I shall see it that way. For you would never question my intelligence. Or my ability to see the truth with mine own eyes.”
“I must confess I thought I would find someone with an injury so serious as to make him unrecognizable. Hence the ability to play on that sweet nature of yours.”
“Lo, that I should ever have a nature quite that sweet. Now then. You can rest assured by the sight of your own eyes and join in my joy at welcoming your cousin back from the dead.”
“Indeed. I look forward to becoming reacquainted with my dear friend and cousin.”
Drew returned Vincent’s smile. Hopefully he was more successful at looking pleased. Vincent appeared anything but.
****
Julia breathed a sigh of relief when Vincent finally bade them farewell. “I thought we would never be rid of him.” She’d repeated that phrase often enough over the weeks following Payne’s death. She imagined she’d be forced to utter it again in the not too distant future. Vincent was determined to see Drew paraded around town. They could only hold him off for so long. Vincent was nothing if not determined to have his way in all things. He may have missed his opportunity to claim the earldom, but he wasn’t to waste time using Payne’s position to pursue his own interests, whatever they might be.
“I think we came through that amazingly well. Payne’s cousin suffered a crushing blow. He was too busy reeling from it to take too close a look at me.” Drew pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. “He’ll be back after he’s figured out a plan.”
She stepped to the door and gave quiet instructions to the footman before responding to Drew’s statement. “A plan? What must he plan?”
“How to get rid of me.”
She gasped. “You cannot mean that. A coward and scoundrel Vincent may be, but surely you do not think him capable of murder?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged. “He seemed too relieved when I said I couldn’t remember anything about the night Payne died. I’m a pretty good judge of character—comes in handy when deciding whether a company would make a sound investment—and I got the distinct impression he was hiding something. Whether it was involvement in Payne’s accident or merely disappointment at my return, I don’t know.”
Could Vincent have been involved in Payne’s death? The thought had honestly never occurred to her. “Several people saw Payne shot and knocked off the ship. Vincent among them. He couldn’t possibly have caused the incident.”
“He might not have done the actual deed. Doesn’t mean he wasn’t the reason behind it.”
She sank into the nearest chair. “Oh, my.”
Drew cornered the desk to kneel before her. “Are you all right? I didn’t mean to scare you.” He rubbed the knuckles of her hand.
She pulled back from his grasp, hiding the shaking limb by smoothing the fabric over her knees. “I shall be fine. I can’t believe I never considered Vincent in the foul play that resulted in Payne’s death.” Her hands felt cold without his warmth to cover them. The gesture had been one of comfort and support. Had she ever been offered such in the past?
Certainly not by Payne.
The closest had been before their wedding when he’d wooed her with sweet words and promises. But even then, he’d barely touched her. She’d thought him a gentleman. He’d simply been uninterested.
It shocked her how much she enjoyed the feel of Drew’s hand on hers. She gazed at his hands now resting on his knees. Longing for the return of the caress caused a pang in the vicinity of her heart.
His hand moved. She held her breath, waiting to see what he would do. Would he touch her again? Was he simply using her chair to push himself up from his crouched position?
The hand came closer. She couldn’t force her gaze away, until it came too close for her to focus, and she brought her gaze to her knee instead. Breathing was difficult with him so close. Did he have no idea how inappropriate his behavior was?
They were not, after all, married.
She started at the feel of his finger under her chin. He forced her gaze up so she stared directly into his face. Dark hairs sprinkled across his jaw. Would it be rough against her fingers?
“Hey. Everything’s going to be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Sincerity shone from his eyes.
Her own widened in surprise. He was honestly concerned. For her. She could count on one hand the number of people who cared what happened to her. Her husband had not been one of them. And she wasn’t the one in danger.
“Your concern is much appreciated, but you would be wiser to look after yourself.” What had they brought him into? “I must beg your pardon. When Mellicent asked you to assist us with our difficulties, we had no idea that we were placing you in harm’s way.”
He smiled. Smiled! “I’m not worried.”
“Whyever not?”
“I can’t believe I’d have been brought here only to be killed by a wanker—er, guy—like Vincent.” Bright color suffused his cheeks. “I’m meant to help you. I can’t do that if I’m dead.”
He had a point, but she was distracted by his obvious discomfiture. The bashful tilt to his head appealed to her in ways she most likely shouldn’t think about further. “What, pray tell, is a wanker?”