Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series) (20 page)

He couldn’t possibly marry Isabelle. True, he was the rightful heir with the title and lands, and because of the death of his brother, the betrothal contract fell upon his shoulders. He sighed and rubbed his forehead pounding with a headache. Isabelle remained the spy who’d made a fool out of him. She was still the deceiving wench who’d tried to kill him.

Stopping in front of the full-length mirror, he stared at his reflection. Would she see Captain Hawk in him? If he stayed in those dandy clothes of his brother’s, and wore that ghastly wig, she probably wouldn’t see his secret identity. However, with her under his roof, there was a chance she might suspect within time.

He groaned and scrubbed his chin. What about the wedding night?

Legally, she’d be his wife. He could finally do what he’d wanted to when she was his prisoner, and take her to bed. She was a hard woman to resist. Even downstairs a minute ago when he noticed her tears, he wanted to take her in his arms and promise he’d take care of her. His mind definitely didn’t know how to work properly around her.

A knock sounded on the door, and he froze. “Who is it?”

“Your valet, my lord.”

Marcus opened the door, letting in Gabe. “Thank goodness you’re here. I think I made a horrific mistake.”

Gabe grinned wide. “Oh, no. I came to commend you for using your intelligent mind so quickly. If it had been me, I’d have fobbed things up, for sure.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Making Miss Stanhope your bride.” Gabe clapped his hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “How else are you going to get information from the Royal Navy? She was the spy we were after, which means she may know what’s going to happen next.”

Once again, seeing Isabelle had rendered Marcus senseless. Why he’d not thought of that first was beyond him. Thankfully, his friend could think straight.

“You’re correct, my good man.” Marcus paced in front of his bed. “She doesn’t know me as Captain Hawk, only as Lord Lockwood, her father’s friend. She’ll be more open to me than Captain Hawk.”

“Exactly. I believe you’re closer to your goal, Marcus.” Gabe rubbed his hands together. “Now, what can I do to help?”

Marcus threw back his head and laughed. “I’m now grateful I had my crew wear masks while she was with us. Miss Stanhope won’t recognize you as my first mate, or any of the other men.”

“Good fortune has been on our side, lately. Has it not?”

That subject was argumentative, but Marcus chose to nod instead. “The first thing we need to do is get the wedding taken care of quickly. I need more women servants brought into the house. Can I trust you to hire them?” After he’d said that, he realized the error. He knew Gabe’s taste in women. The man liked the buxom wenches; the kind that are easily seduced. Most certainly, Isabelle would find this type of woman offensive.

Marcus held up his hand and corrected, “I want
older
women as servants.”

“Aye, aye, Sir.” Gabe touched a finger to his forehead as if in a salute.

Marcus rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Wrong answer. Have you forgotten? We aren’t highwaymen.”

“Um… I mean, yes, my lord.”

“Much better.”

For the next few hours, Marcus gave instructions to all of the servants on what they should do to prepare for the upcoming wedding. So far, his brother’s servants seemed to accept Marcus as the true master. Good thing because Marcus didn’t like killing people unless they were evil and deserving of the fate. He’d only been playing his brother’s role for twenty-four hours, but Marcus had learned something already. His brother was lazy. He did nothing for himself and relied on servants to do his bidding. Matthew wasn’t a friend to his servants, either. Marcus could never understand that. He believed in being a friend to those beneath him to engender trust and loyalty.

He dressed in his brother’s ridiculous finery—wishing the sissy clothes fit right—and hurried downstairs. Although he didn’t want to speak to Isabelle so soon, the matter couldn’t be put off any longer. He found her in the library, curled on a couch reading a book. She looked so peaceful sitting there, and he hesitated to enter just so he wouldn’t disturb her. A deep sadness furrowed her expression as she read. Was she regretting coming here? Or was it simply the book dampening her mood?

It had surprised him to see her today. The last they talked about her betrothal, she wanted nothing to do with Viscount Lockwood. Marcus knew why she was there. Money and security. That would have been the only reason to seek Matthew Winston out.

From down the hallway came a loud thud, jerking him out of his thoughts. Isabelle jumped and turned her attention toward him. He pulled away from the doorframe, not realizing he leaned against it as he watched her. She closed her book and stood, smoothing her hand down her dress.

He stepped into the room. “Good afternoon, Miss Stanhope. I trust you and your companion are faring well thus far.”

“Oh yes, my lord. Mrs. Winters is napping in her room. I wasn’t that tired, so decided to read instead. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I enjoy a woman who isn’t afraid of expanding her mind.”

“Well, I must admit, I usually have my nose in a book during my spare time.”

“Excellent.”

She smiled as a small blush dotted her cheeks. “Um… did you need me for something, my lord?”

“Actually, yes. I thought you might need a new gown.”

“New gown? Why?”

He chuckled. “For our wedding, of course.”

“Oh, yes. Forgive me.”

“No reason to forgive.” He grinned. “You and Mrs. Winters can go shopping today in town and get what you need. Put the purchases on my credit.”

“Of course, my lord. Whatever you wish.”

He cocked his head and stepped closer, still perceiving her sadness. “What I wish is for you to be happy. I sense you’re not. Could you possibly be frightened of the upcoming nuptials?”

The blush in her cheeks deepened, spreading all over her face. “To be honest, my lord, I am a little. We have barely met. It would be different if we knew each other better.”

She was lovely when she acted so innocent. In some things she was very innocent, but he knew what a good spy she’d become, so he wondered what part of her display was just an act.

“I feel I know you well, Miss Stanhope.” He closed the space between them until his clothes brushed her gown. She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. He quickly continued, “Your father talked about you constantly. Although—” He swept his knuckles along her jaw and down her neck. “—I never really knew how lovely and charming you were until today.”

Her throat tightened and jumped in what looked to be a hard swallow. “
Th
—thank you, my lord.”

“Miss Stanhope.” He cupped her chin. Her mouth parted as her tongue slowly drew across her lips. “Are you perhaps worried about the wedding night?”

Her face heated, warming his fingers considerably. “I—I must say, I am. Very much so.”

The urge to kiss her became strong, but he fought it every step. Marrying her was right, but not because he could have her any time he wanted. This marriage was just a business arrangement. He only wanted her information. Yet, why couldn’t he stop yearning for her as a real wife?

This was torture in the worst way.

“You’re so innocent, Miss Stanhope.” He slid his hands from down her neck again. Her breaths came out ragged. Her hands shook as she clasped onto his, stopping him.

He grinned. “Indeed, you’re very innocent, which is why it’s important we have a hasty marriage. With you living under my roof, you’re a temptation for me, my dear. I’d hate to have your name ruined, and prolonging the marriage would certainly accomplish that.”

“You’re thinking logically. Thank you.” Her voice wavered.

He withdrew his hands, stepping back. “So I bid you a good afternoon, Miss Stanhope.” He bowed and turned to leave.

“Wait.”

When she touched his arm, heat spread through his limb. He whipped his head around and met her wide-eye stare. It was all he could do not to take her into his arms. Shyly, she removed her hand as her face flamed a brilliant color. Could she feel his desire? Was she experiencing it, too? As he studied her closely, she didn’t resemble that passionate woman who fell easily into Captain Hawk’s arms.

“What is it, Miss Stanhope? Do you need something else?”

“Uh, no. I was just wondering if you will be accompanying us to the shops today.”

“As much as I’d be delighted, I have other obligations. However, I plan on being home for the evening meal, as I hope you will be.”

“Oh, certainly, my lord.”

“Splendid. Now I must be off. Time is wasting.”

“Yes, it is. Thank you again. You have been most kind and generous.” She curtsied.

As he stormed outside, he tried to override the nagging thought clouding his mind. Both she and Mrs. Winters have mentioned several times how kind he’d been. Even a few of the servants acted surprised to think he took the time to talk to them. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so kind. After all, his brother had been far from it.

Since there was so much to accomplish today, he couldn’t begin his brother’s true role now. It would have to wait until tonight.

And he would most surely start it with Isabelle. Something needed to be done so his body didn’t turn to fire every time she batted her eyes or brushed against him. From now on, he couldn’t let her think he was a kind and generous man.

* * * *

Isabelle didn’t care what she wore for her wedding. A wedding she didn’t want, she reminded herself as she and Mrs. Winters stood with the dressmaker, trying to decide upon a gown. She couldn’t stop thinking about that moment with Viscount Lockwood today in the library. The heated look in his eyes let her know why he wanted to marry her, and it sickened her. When he gently stroked her throat, bile had risen in her mouth and it was all she could do not to gag.

Strange, but his touch also stirred emotions in her—those she didn’t want to think about. Visions of Captain Hawk’s magical fingers and melting kisses danced in her head all the while the viscount had caressed her. She didn’t want to think of Captain Hawk because it evoked sad memories. More importantly, she didn’t want her soon-to-be husband to touch her. Unfortunately, Hawk had branded her, and until she got rid of these insane yearnings, she couldn’t let another man become so personal.

“What do you think of this design, Miss Stanhope?”

Mrs. Winter’s question brought Isabelle alert and turning to see what they had chosen. She gave them her best smile and nodded. “Perfect, I think.”

Two hours later after the sewing girls measured her, poked and prodded, Isabelle and her companion walked out of the shop. The owner promised her gown would be ready on the morrow. All Isabelle had to do was mention Lockwood’s name and the dressmakers became eager to please, and they twittered like fools when she mentioned the wedding.

Dread clutched her stomach. Tomorrow she would wed a man she didn’t love.

Ever since she was a little girl, she’d dreamed of what her wedding would be like. The man she married would be someone she loved completely. He’d be handsome beyond compare and treat her with the utmost respect and kindness. He’d worship her night and day, and she would be blissfully happy.

Then again, she hadn’t once met a married couple that lived blissfully happy, so perhaps her dream was slightly far-fetched. Nevertheless, she wanted a man she could love. Viscount Lockwood wasn’t that man. He’d shown her a little kindness since meeting him, but she feared he’d turn back into the greedy, selfish monster she’d heard so much about.

At least she held her memories close of being with a man so tender and caring, she thought love had entered her heart. Maybe it did for a day or two, but no more. It was gone now, never to return.

“I must say,” Mrs. Winters began as they climbed into the carriage and sat, “I think Viscount Lockwood has taken a liking to you already.”

Isabelle adjusted on the seat, trying to find a comfortable spot. “Why do you say that?”

“From talking to people in the dress shop, they say the viscount is never generous. Mrs. Talbot stated how surprised she was to hear the man agreed to even marry you.” Mrs. Winters patted Isabelle’s clasped hands. “Consider yourself lucky, my dear, and use this to your advantage.”

“I shall try, Mrs. Winters.”

“There is no
trying
about it, dear. This is something you must do.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, but just think of all the things he will give you. Things your father was never able to. You will be the most sought after woman in New York.” Mrs. Winters sighed heavily. “I can see it now. Night after night you will be busy with parties, and at least twice a week you will take tea with all the higher class ladies.”

Isabelle didn’t want to think of those things. Then again, it would certainly take her mind off her unhappy marriage, and especially the man she could never have. Perhaps keeping active in the social circles was the key to her happiness.

She turned her attention to the passing couples on the street. Would she ever see Captain Hawk again? If she met him without his mask, would she know him? If he touched her, kissed her with so much passion, she would know it was the man she yearned for.