Lord Sinister (Secrets & Scandals Book 3) (29 page)

She blinked at the quick change of topic.  “The ship?  The one headed to Australia?”

He nodded and readied his pen to the paper.

With the recollection of that God-awful ship’s hold, Amelia shivered.  “I-I believe I was aboard for thirteen days.”

He frowned.  “I am unclear about who had taken you from the ship, my lady.  Do you know who it was?”

Amelia hesitated, then shook her head.  “I do not, sir,” she lied, wishing to protect Jack at all costs.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “Do you not?”

“No.  I was so ill, I have little memory of boarding another ship.”  At least that part had been true.

Studying her for several more seconds, he went back to his notes.  “Your father is Royce Jamison?”

The unexpected question rattled Amelia.  She licked her dry lips.  “Yes.”

After writing another sentence, the inspector gathered up his papers, put the stopper on the ink and placed everything back in his pocket.  He came swiftly to his feet.

Amelia, seeing the determination on his face, the finality, felt panic stir low in her belly.  On weak legs, she rose as the man halted before her.

“Lady Amersleigh, I am placing you under arrest, charging you with conspiracy to murder your husband with the assistance of your old friend, Lord Jackson Townsend, now the pirate, Black Heart.”

As Amelia felt her mouth drop open, she heard a terrifying snarl from the doorway.  Then the room tilted.  Her legs buckled.  When she opened her eyes next, Megan’s face swam before her, calling her name.

“Can you hear me, Amelia?”

“Yes,” she said, though it sounded like a croak.  Why were bees buzzing around her head?

Megan turned.  “She’s awake,” she said to someone behind her.

Amelia tried to sit up, realizing she had been placed on the sofa.

“No, stay still.”

Margaret shuffled near, eyes round with worry.  “Oh, she’s so pale.”

“Julian?” Amelia managed, though she was so weak, it took great effort.

Megan tried looking stern, but didn’t succeed with the large grin on her lips.  “Knocked the inspector out.”  She glanced over her shoulder.  “The man still hasn’t come to.”

Then a third face appeared over her.  “Are you all right?” Julian asked, looking even more worried than his mother.

“Much better now.”  From just the sight of her husband, she felt strength returning to her limbs.

He scooped up her hand and pressed it to his lips.  “Are you in any pain, Pixie?”

Feeling none, she shook her head.

He blew out a breath, looking relieved.  “Good.”

“Julian,” she whispered, frightened when she recalled the inspector’s interrogation.  “Jack and I didn’t plan… wouldn’t…”  She couldn’t finish, the mere thought inconceivable.

“I know, love,” he said and leaned forward to press a kiss on her forehead.

Oh, thank God he didn’t believe such rubbish.

But how would she convince the inspector, who was so determined to arrest her?

CHAPTER 29

“I’m glad you’re taking me back to Eton instead of
him
.”

Nicholas frowned as he settled on the plush squab.  Alex folded his arms tightly over his chest and glared out of the frosty window.  The young man’s brow furrowed, his jaw jutted in ire—he looked exactly like Julian when angered.

“Your father wished to stay with your mother,” Nicholas said, signaling to the groom to keep the coach where it was for the moment.

Alex flinched.  “I wish he wasn’t my father.”

“Now, Alex, you don’t mean that.”

Whipping his head around, Alex’s expression turned murderous.  “I do mean that, Your Grace.  It was his fault my mother suffered so much.”  His eyes narrowed.  “It’s his fault she’s suffering now.”

Dumbfounded, Nicholas could only stare at Alex.  Then he shook his head.  He couldn’t allow this to go on.  “You sound as though your father had tossed your mother out on the street, knowing full well what he was doing, purely for his own satisfaction.”

Alex cocked a brow.  “Didn’t he?”

“Absolutely not.”

With a snort of disbelief, Alex turned back to the window.

Nicholas felt his face growing hot.  “I suppose you know nothing of the lie that was told to Julian before Amelia came to see him.”

Alex swiveled his head back.  “A lie he should have known better than to believe.”

It seemed Alex did know about the lie.  Not at all certain how to handle this, but unable to watch Alex’s animosity build toward Julian, he continued.  “It was your mother’s own cousin who lied.”

“And he believed Mama capable of such deceit?”

“I don’t think Julian was completely convinced until Amelia actually showed up.  And when she told him, all he heard were Diana’s words.”  Nicholas softened his voice.  “Did you know a couple of days after Amelia’s visit, Julian went to try and talk to her once again?”

Alex looked surprised.

Nicholas nodded, praying he would get through to the boy.  “Julian’s harshness toward your mother haunted him.  He also wanted to be certain of the truth.  But he found that your mother had already boarded the ship for America.”  He leaned back and sighed.  “Diana told him your mother was ashamed for having been caught in the lie and begged to be sent to her father to escape the humiliation.”

Glancing away, Alex stared out the window for several seconds, seeming to digest everything told to him.  He turned back.  “Lord Julian tried to return and talk to Mama?”

“Yes, he did.”  Nicholas rubbed his palms together.  “And I know Julian was never the same after that.  In fact, he stayed drunk for weeks, unable to deal with your mother’s leaving.”  He hesitated a moment.  “I am certain your father loved her even then, he just didn’t realize it until now.”  His voice went low, solemn.  “Think on this, Alex.  Why hasn’t your father married until now?  Why remain at sea and avoid looking for a wife?”  He leaned forward.  “And why insist so vehemently to marry your mother?  He didn’t need to, you know.  If his sole intention had been to care for you, that’s what he would have done.”  Nicholas leaned back and shook his head.  “Of course he wanted to claim you as his son, but he also wanted to marry your mother.  Now, think hard, Alex.  Why would your father marry someone when he didn’t have to?”

Alex opened and closed his mouth several times, no sound coming out.  Then he scrambled for the door and flew out of the carriage.

With a chuckle, Nicholas watched the boy race across the drive toward his parents.

Julian stood stiff, watching the immobile carriage, wishing like hell it wasn’t about to take his son back to Eton.  Something grazed his arm.  He wouldn’t have paid attention to it except the light touch sent a fiery jolt right to the core of him.  Amelia.

Swallowing hard, he turned and found her pale, ungloved hand resting on the forearm of his coat, the emerald and diamond ring he had given her for Christmas glistening on her finger.  It did strange things to his insides whenever she touched him, no matter how insignificant the touch.  And she touched him more often of late.  Damn, if he didn’t like that.

He settled his hand over hers, his gaze sliding to her face.  Tears slipped down her cheeks.  His heart lurched.  He pulled her into his arms and settled a tender kiss on top of her head.  “Don’t cry, Pixie,” he said, his voice raw.

“I’m just going to miss him so much.”

Withdrawing his snowy handkerchief, he lifted her chin with his forefinger and dried the dampness from her face.  “It won’t be forever, sweetling.”

Seeing her pink nose, misty blue eyes and quivering lips, something shifted within Julian.  He caressed her pedal soft cheek with the backs of his fingers.  Fierce protectiveness swelled up within him.  And in that instant, he knew he would die before allowing any harm to come to this woman.

Her name spilled softly from his lips as they settled over hers.  He tasted her sorrow and brought her closer to him.  The kiss, not his usual deeply wicked, sensual, tongue twisting sort, revealed something else.  Love.

Rising his head, he watched her eyes flutter apart.  “Julian.”

And before he could lower his mouth back down onto hers, he heard approaching footsteps.

Julian turned, stunned to see Alex standing there watching them.  The boy’s eyes traveled from him to his mother and back.  He watched them somberly.

“Alex?” Amelia asked, pulling away.  “Is something wrong?”

Resisting the urge to pull her back against his chest, Julian remained still, wondering what had happened.  Yet before the thought had fully formed, Alex rushed forward and embraced him.

It took several seconds for his stunned brain to start functioning once again.  Julian’s arms went around Alex as mist formed in his eyes.  He looked to Amelia, who stood nearby with her hands clamped over her mouth, tears flowing unchecked, and could not explain his son’s actions.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said into the front of his coat, his words garbled.

Julian cleared his throat.  “For what?”

His son pulled back.  “For treating you so horrid since learning you are my,” he swallowed, “my father.”

“You are forgiven, Son.” Julian blinked the moisture from his eyes.

“Thank you, Father.”  Then Alex gave him a tight hug, hugged his mother, and loped back to the coach.

Dumbfounded, Julian watched the vehicle move away.  Seeing Nicholas at the window, he gave a grateful smile.  His friend nodded in understanding, and Julian wondered just what had been said to change Alex’s mind.  It didn’t matter.  He’d never be able to repay Nick for it.  Thank God they were no longer enemies.

Amelia snuggled up to his side and he automatically put his arm around her, drawing her close.  “What just happened?” he whispered.

“You just became Alex’s father.”

He glanced down at her with raised brows.

“Alex has accepted you in his heart,” she said.  “I knew it would only be a matter of time.”

“And how were you so certain of that?” he asked, lowering his lips to her ear so he could nuzzle her softness.

She turned so that their lips almost touched and looked up at him with those powerful blue eyes.  His gut twisted.  “Because you’re irresistible.”

He smiled slowly, wolfishly.  “Is that right?”

The pulse at the base of her neck pounded faster.  His eyes met hers, noting how they glowed with passion.  “Yes,” she whispered.

And before he had the chance to scoop her up into his arms and take her upstairs for a very pleasurable couple of hours, the clop of horse hooves and squeaking carriage wheels sounded.  Wondering if it Alex had returned, he glanced up.  But the coach lumbering up the drive didn’t belong to Nick. It belonged to William Prescott.

“Bloody hell,” he said, seeing his pleasurable plans for the remainder of the day going up in smoke.

Julian opted that the meeting with his solicitor take place in the drawing room instead of his father’s study.  He wanted William to be reminded of the power his family welded, that he would use that power if necessary to keep his wife safe.  That she would not be taken away from him again, under any circumstances.

His father joined them before they had taken a seat, settling in the chair beside him.  William took one of the chairs directly across, removing some official looking papers from his worn brown case, and adjusted his spectacles.

“Would you care for some tea?” Julian asked, more so to prolong the solicitor’s news than for the man’s comfort.

“Tea?”  William glanced up and nodded.  “Yes, my lord, that would be most welcome.”

Julian turned to the footman waiting near the door and nodded.

The proficient servants supplied a tray in minutes, even before the solicitor had removed and arranged all the documents from his case.

“Now, William,” Julian began, the nape of his neck tingling a warning that the news would not be good, “what happened?”

After a careful sip of his scalding tea, William lowered his cup.  “You aren’t going to be charged with blackening Inspector Hasting’s eyes, my lord,” he stated with a satisfied nod.

Julian glared at the man.

The solicitor’s smile slid into a puzzled frown.  “Didn’t you hear me, my lord?  I just told you Hastings isn’t going to press charges against you.”

“I don’t give a damn about me,” Julian roared, half coming out of his seat.  “What about Amelia?”

“That, I’m afraid, is another matter entirely.”

His father pulled him back into his seat.  “Losing your temper will do her no good.”

Julian cut his eyes to his father.  “What if they were trying to take Mother away?”

“I’d kill the bloody bastards.”

He nodded.  “Exactly.”

“My lord, Your Grace, if you please.”  William heaved a sigh.  “Let us get on with the matter at hand.”

Julian tried to calm the edginess he felt but couldn’t.  “Just tell me if they have a case against my wife.”

Clearing his throat, William glanced down at the papers. “I’m afraid so, my lord.”

Julian squeezed the carved wooden arms of his chair.  “How good?”

“Very good, my lord.”

Unable to sit there a moment longer, Julian jerked to his feet.  The chair flew back and thudded onto the rug behind him.  “What are you saying?  That they are going to take my wife to prison?”  He shook his father’s hand away.  “She is bloody innocent, I tell you.”

William nodded once.  “Then we have a lot of work before us, my lord, and will need to keep a clear head.”

The man spoke the truth, blast it all to hell.  Julian sighed, then righted his chair and sat.  “I know they are accusing her of conspiracy to murder,” the very words left a foul taste in his mouth; “but how, exactly, are they convinced of such nonsense?”

The solicitor checked with his notes before responding.  “They have learned that your wife and Lord Townsend were neighbors and good friends for many years.  Your own testimony has them speaking together in the park last June.”

Julian nodded, but kept silent.

“Captain Elliott reported it was Lord Townsend, known as Black Heart, who took Lady Amersleigh from his ship.”

“Yes, yes.”  Julian grew impatient.  “But why the assumption that they were plotting to kill me?”

“Three reasons.”  William held up one finger.  “With your demise, your wife would gain control of a substantial fortune you have amassed as merchant captain and not entailed from your title.”  Another finger came up.  “Her good friend, who fits the description of the killer, has been convicted of killing his own father.”  The third finger snapped up.  “And finally, for revenge.”

“Revenge?” he asked.  “What do they mean?”

William plucked the glasses from his nose and rubbed his eyes.  “It seems Hastings has found someone who told him of a certain young marquess who rebuffed a certain young lady after bringing news of her pregnancy to him eleven years ago.”

“Bloody hell.” Julian leaned back in his chair.