Lord Sinister (Secrets & Scandals Book 3) (22 page)

Julian nearly smiled, but he knew how critical his next words were to keeping his family together.  He leaned down so he could look his son in the eye, so his son could read his earnestness.  “Because I love her.”  Emotion rose up to clog his throat and made his nose burn.  “And I love you, too.”

Alex’s eyes went round.  “Truly?” he whispered.  “You are speaking the truth?”

With a trembling hand, he reached out and placed it on the boy’s shoulder.  “I speak the truth, Alex.  I love you both.  That is why I will find your mother and bring her back.  I want us to be a family again.”

After several long seconds, Alex reached up and placed his hand over Julian’s.  “Then go find her, sir.  Bring her back home.  I promise I won’t try to escape from Eton.”

CHAPTER 23

After spending two full days sobbing into her pillow, Amelia decided to quit feeling sorry for herself.  Besides, a baby would be a blessing, not a curse.  And the answer to her prayers.  The sweet child would staunch both her loneliness and sadness, and bring her a measure of joy she never thought to feel again.  Yes, a blessing.  Although the baby would never replace Alex in her heart, she knew she had room to love another child.

With that thought, she rose on the third day, bathed as best she could with the water left in the pitcher on the night table and dressed.  She left her sorrow behind.

“Ah, Mrs. Sinclair,” Dr. Landon rose from his seat at the dining table, “I’m so glad to see you.”  He held out the chair to his left.  “Would you care to join me?”

Glancing down at his plate of fluffy yellow eggs and toast, she decided she wasn’t going to be ill and nodded.

“Excellent.”  He assisted her in her chair then scooped up the small silver bell beside his tea cup and gave it a jingle.  “Mrs. Fletcher,” he called, “Mrs. Sinclair will be joining me for breakfast.”

The cheery round face that always wore the sunniest of smiles peeked into the doorway.  “Very good, sir.”  Her laughing blue eyes turned to Amelia.  “Good morning, Mrs. Sinclair.  Feeling better, are we?”

“Much better, thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.”

With a nod, the housekeeper scurried back into the kitchen and returned a moment later with hot buttered eggs, toast with apricot jam, and a steamy cup of tea sweetened with a generous helping of honey. 

“How is Mr. Hodges doing?” Amelia asked before taking a bite of her toast.

Dr. Landon’s expression turned sour.  “Oh, his leg is healing, but I’m having the devil of a time keeping him in bed.  He wants to get back to repairing the roof of the livery, if you can believe that.”

Shaking her head, Amelia chuckled, then delved into her breakfast.  “Mmmm, that was the best breakfast I’ve ever had,” she told Mrs. Fletcher after every crumb on her plate had been eaten.

The woman turned apple red.  “Oh, posh.” She waved a plump hand.  “It can’t possibly be better than Mrs. Templeton’s cooking.”

Mrs. Templeton owned the boarding house where Amelia had been staying since her arrival at the village, conveniently located right across the street.  She smiled sweetly at the housekeeper.  “Of course that was better than Mrs. Templeton’s cooking.  Why, her apricot jam isn’t half as tasty as yours.”

That made the housekeeper’s blush deepen and her smile widen as she stacked up the dishes and left with a skip in her step, humming a delightful tune.

Dr. Landon chuckled.  “I believe you just made Mrs. Fletcher’s day.”

Amelia shook her head.  “I was just being honest,” she stated, and no sooner were the words out of her mouth, Mrs. Fletcher broke out into full-throated song.

She and the doctor grinned at each other.

“I almost forgot, Mrs. Templeton came by yesterday.”  He paused with a wicked little twinkle in his eyes.  “She said when you didn’t show up for two whole days, she was wondering what we were up to over here.”

Amelia grimaced, knowing exactly what the old busybody thought.  That woman had been the only one in the village who frowned down at Amelia’s working with the young, unmarried doctor.  “What did you tell her?”

His brows rose.  “Simply that you had taken ill and couldn’t be moved.”

“That’s it?” she asked.

He nodded.  “That’s it.”

She blew out a sigh and felt a warm hand cover hers.

“You don’t have to worry,” he stated softly.

Her gaze rose up to his.  “Worry?  About what?”

“About what people will say once your, um, condition becomes obvious.”

That hadn’t crossed her mind.  But now that it had been brought to her attention, Amelia wondered what people would think.  Everyone thought her a widow, and she quite nicely avoided all questions about the subterfuge.  But could she avoid questions about the child she carried?  Would she get tripped up and say the wrong thing, then get caught?  Amelia knew she was a terrible liar.  What then?  If caught in a lie, would she be allowed to stay?  Or would the town-folk drive her away with torches and pitchforks just like a scene out of one of her favorite horror-gothic novels?

Dr. Landon patted her hand.  “I said you don’t have to worry.  There is a perfectly logical solution.”

“Logical solution?” she asked, still numb with the thought of having to leave, wondering if she would never find somewhere safe to raise her baby.  Removing her hand from under his, she lifted her teacup to her lips.

“Yes.  We could get married.”

****

Jack stifled a yawn as he moved through the damp cave, grateful they had made it back before the storm hit.  A real tempest, a ship-eater, according to old Lucky, and Jack agreed, working through the night alongside his crew to see them back to the hidden cove safely.  The torch he held flickered, bouncing shadows off the craggy walls as he made his way up the steep stone steps.  Reaching the top, he withdrew the heavy skeleton key from his pocket and inserted it into the thick oak door.  The snap of the lock echoed down the narrow tunnel ahead.  He swung the door open and frowned when the iron hinges gave a mild groan.  He’d have to oil them.  But not now.  No, now he was going to take a steaming bath, fill his belly with hot food, and sleep the clock around.

“Pardon, milord.”

Jack spun around so fast, his torch almost went out.  He watched Mr. Gunney limp into the light using a carved tree branch for a crutch, and relaxed.  “Gunney, you old reprobate, you gave me a start.”  He settled the torch into the wall socket and faced the elder man.

“Sorry, milord, but I have an urgent message fer ye.”  Arthritic fingers held out a piece of expensive ivory parchment.

As Jack reached for the note, a faint scent of jasmine greeted him.  His stomach clenched and he closed his eyes briefly.  Megan.

Anxious to read what she had to say, he broke the wax seal and held the note up to the flickering flame behind him.

Dearest J.,

Forgive me for not writing with news of the investigation, there is nothing new to report since my last message.  But the investigators are still diligently searching for your father’s murderer.

I am writing because of Amelia.  We know you took her off the ship, and are grateful to you for it.  Julian, upon gaining consciousness, revealed she wasn’t the one who shot him.  Although he couldn’t see the shooter clearly, he was able to identify him as a full-grown man.  Not Amelia nor Alex. Now Julian is deeply concerned and desperately wants his wife back.

Please tell Amelia it’s safe to come home.  Also, Julian isn’t the only one going out of his mind with worry.  Alex, although hides it well, is in deep misery.

Pray you act soon, before Julian sails back out to sea looking for you.  I fear he’ll alert the entire Royal Navy if he finds you.

                                                                                    Your friend,

                                                                                    Megan

Hearing the creaky hinges of the door behind him, Jack turned.  “Connor, read this.”  He handed his first mate the note.

Connor squinted down at the parchment, then held it up to the light.  His eyes widened as he read.  “I knew tha lassie didnae dae it.”  He lowered the note. “What are ye gunna dae, Capt’n?”

Jack released a weary sigh.  “I’m going to talk to Amy.”  He took the parchment and slid it into his pocket.  “And I want you to go to London and see if Julian has left yet.  If not, stall him.”

“An’ if he has?”

“Return at once.” He turned to the path that led to the hidden door within the study of his little stone house.  “But try to locate his charted course, if you can,” he said over his shoulder.

“Aye, Capt’n.”

****

Amelia choked on her tea.  “Pardon me?”

“I said we could get married,” Dr. Landon said as he tapped her between the shoulder blades with the palm of his hand.

“You know,” she said, coming quickly to her feet, “I feel the need for a brisk walk.”  And without waiting for the doctor to reply, she scurried from the house, turned left and started down the road.  Jack hadn’t returned from sea, she reminded herself, and changed direction.  She really did not feel up to speaking to anyone and decided to make her way down to the beach that would surely be deserted this time of the morning. 

Hearing the waves roll and crash onto the shore, watching the gray-green water stir up a frothy foam along the glistening brown sand, and smelling the fish and salt brine of the chilled air soothed her churning insides.  It also brought up bittersweet memories of her son, who adored the sea.  “Alex,” she whispered as the wind snatched his name from her lips, just as the cruel world had snatched him from her life. 
How will I go on without you, my son?

Tears slid one after another down her cheeks as she made her way along the shore, a foot from the waterline.  The only comfort she had was knowing Julian would take care of Alex.  He would see her son’s dreams come true, and in time, Alex would be happy.  Finding solace in that thought, Amelia retrieved the handkerchief from her pocket and scrubbed the salty wetness from her face.

She kicked a small piece of driftwood from her path and couldn’t keep her wandering thoughts from turning to Julian.  Had a fever set in?  Did the wound fester?  Was he resting like he should?  Bowing her head, she couldn’t help but miss him, too.  Her heart ached at the thought of how close they had become to being a real family.  Settling her hands over her middle, unable to stop the tears from pooling in her eyes once again, Amelia threw her head back and cried out.  Would life be forever so cruel?  She crashed down to her knees.  What had she done to deserve such misery?  The wind gusted, pitching her forward.  She caught herself before going headlong to the ground, the sticky, cold sand melting around her fingers, and she cried harder.

Deep, guttural sobs erupted from within.  For a moment in time, just briefly, she thought she could find true happiness.  She wagged her head from side to side.  What a fool she was to believe that, even for an instant.  Obviously the fates had other plans.  Destined to love with her entire soul, but not to be loved back.  Julian didn’t love her, at least she didn’t think he did.  Now, she would never know for sure.  For a tiny spot in her heart, just the size of a pinprick, had burned with hope.  When they were together at Sagemeadow, she could almost believe…

Amelia drew in a deep breath and leaned back onto her legs.  She wiped her hands together, spent emotionally and physically, and glanced around, wondering where she was.

A flash caught her attention and she looked up in time to see wicked gray-black clouds rolling inland overhead.  Darkness fell over her, as though a blanket had been thrown over the sky.  With a gasp, she staggered up to her feet.  The wind picked up, plastering her black skirt to her legs as it howled in her ears.  Thunder cracked then sent out a terrible boom to echo throughout the heavens, and the earth shook beneath her feet.  She swallowed hard.  Why hadn’t she noticed the approaching storm sooner?

Glancing around, she looked for shelter of some sort.  The endless expanse of sea lay to her right and a steep, jagged cliff rose up to her left.  She had nowhere to go.  Cold, fat raindrops darted one after another down around her, one landing on her cheek, another pelting the top of her head.  The dark, churning clouds would open up at any second.  Amelia forced her feet to move, to search for somewhere to keep her out of the storm.  She found no cave, not even an indention in the rocks.

As lightning sent jagged streaks across the charcoal sky above, she glanced to the very top of the cliff and caught sight of a small square of light.  A house.  Amelia lowered her head and pushed herself against the raging wind, praying it wouldn’t pick her up and catapult her out into the ocean.  Thunder roared and she cupped her hands against her ears as the terrible sound raged around her.  She stumbled in the marshy sand as more raindrops fell across her head and shoulders.

The heavens opened just as Amelia found the crumbly steps leading up to the house.  She slipped on the wet stones as the frigid rain pelted down on her, soaking through every layer of clothing, turning her bones to ice.  The wind tried plucking her away at every opportunity, but she gritted her teeth and continued to climb, refusing to let it have its way with her.

Her entire body quaked violently from both the cold and fatigue as Amelia neared the top, feeling as though she had been climbing for hours.  As the storm moved farther inland, the rain came down around her in sheets, roaring in her ears.  She couldn’t see a foot in front of her.  Slipping on a wet stone, already slick from green algae growing over it, the urge to collapse and simply give up grew strong.  Then she heard a voice call out to her.

Amelia raised her head and squinted through the solid gray wall of rain.  She could just make out a light.  The house had to be close.  She finally reached the top and took a step forward, stumbled, and fell to her knees with a startled cry on her lips.  Warm tears mingled with the cold wetness on her face.  Amelia shook her head.  She couldn’t go on.