Sins of a Duke (14 page)

“All the way from London on horseback for a question about timber quality?”

Sebastian nodded.

“It must be a great quantity of timber.” The admiral regarded him for a moment, then pulled a piece of paper from a drawer and scrawled something on it. “Lieutenant Calder!”

The young man who’d shown Sebastian in to the admiral pushed open the door, stepped into the room, and clicked his heels together. “Yes, sir!”

“Take this down to the
Endeavor
and deliver it to Captain Jerrod.”

“Yes, sir!” The lieutenant took the note, saluted, and vanished again.

“He’s a good lad, very efficient,” the admiral said, indicating the door, “but can’t set foot on a deck without casting up his accounts. Have some tea, Your Grace. We should have a reply in twenty minutes or so.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

“Jerrod sails tomorrow. He may not be able to help, but it’s a shame to see you come all this way for nothing. England needs its timber.”

Sebastian smiled. Admiral Mattingly knew he frequently carried out directives for Prinny. This one might be a bit self-serving, but depending on whether he could find someone who knew the Mosquito Coast area and whether they could corroborate John Rice-Able’s stories or not, the result could have a national impact.

In just under twenty minutes Lieutenant Calder rapped on the door and entered the office again. “Admiral, Captain Jerrod sends his regrets that he cannot assist you personally, but he has put one of his lieutenants at your disposal.”

“Well, send him in, Calder.”

“Yes, sir!” Calder left again. A moment later a tall, handsome young man with black hair and merry green eyes entered the office. “Lieutenant Bradshaw Carroway at your service, Admiral,” he said, saluting.

“Carroway, this is His Grace, the Duke of Melbourne. Assist him in any way you can.”

Sebastian stood. “Might we take a walk?”

The lieutenant inclined his head. “After you, Your Grace.”

They left the office and headed along the harbor battery.
“I apologize for taking you from your duties, Lieutenant. Admiral Mattingly says that your ship leaves tomorrow.”

The young man nodded. He had to be several years younger than Zachary, barely out of his teens. “You got me out of counting sacks of oranges, Your Grace. I am extremely grateful.” With a grin, he gave Sebastian a sideways glance. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Should I?”

“We met two years ago, very briefly. My older brother brought me along to a soiree you attended.”

“Who is your brother?”

“Tristan Carroway, Viscount Dare.”

It was Sebastian’s turn to smile. “Of course. I should have remembered.”

“I danced with your sister, Lady Eleanor. Your brother Charlemagne practically demanded my entire family history before he’d let me on the dance floor.” Carroway chuckled again. “But what may I do for you today, Your Grace? Captain Jerrod said someone had a query about South America.”

“Central America, actually. The Mosquito Coast. Are you familiar with it?”

“I was on the
Triumph
last year. We chased an American frigate up and down that coast for two months before we got word of a cessation of hostilities.”

Last year
. Sebastian took a slow breath, covering his abrupt excitement. “Have you heard of a King Qental there?”

“Yes. Shifty fellow. Sold us the services of two guides to see us safely along the coast, and they nearly had us stranded on a sandbar two days later.”

“Is the area habitable?”

“In certain places. The higher the ground the more likely it is to last from one rainy season to the next. But there’s not a great deal of high ground along the coast.”

“Do you know of a place called Black Diamond Bay?”

Carroway considered for a moment. “No.”

“How about a small settlement called San Saturus?”

“No. There were a few mining and trapping encampments, and I suppose one of them could have been called that, but I don’t recall it.”

“Are you familiar with an Englishman named Stephen Embry?”

“Embry. Tall fellow, big blonde moustache?”

Good God
. “Yes, that’s him. How do you know him?”

“As a favor to the governor of Belize we ferried a group of Englishmen from there to Jamaica. Mostly soldiers hiring out to the Spanish rebels. Or leaving their service, rather, since they were headed for Jamaica.”

“Why do you remember Embry?”

“He was calling himself a colonel in the
Army Nationale
, some sort of personal friend of Bolivar. From listening to him, he was leading the rebellion himself. All of his men wore some very sharp-looking black uniforms with green crosses on the breast. I remember thinking they must have been hotter than Hades wearing black wool in the jungle. Of course every one of them looked spotless—but on the Mosquito Coast they wouldn’t have seen much action against the Spanish regulars, anyway.”

“Lieutenant, would you be willing to swear to all of this in a court of law?”

Carroway frowned. “They’re just my observations.”

“They’re good enough.”

“I would be happy to, then, but—”

“But you’re sailing tomorrow. Damn.”

“I’ll write out a statement, if you think that will help you.”

“It would help immensely. Thank you.”

“Anything to keep me from counting potatoes. They were next on the inventory list.”

It was exactly the information he wanted, and needed, but Sebastian couldn’t help wishing for a single heartbeat that Bradshaw Carroway had been a guest of the rey of Costa Habichuela and had stayed in a splendid bedchamber in the rey’s royal palace in San Saturus. “One last question. Do you know of a country in that region called Costa Habichuela?”

“The Bean Coast? No. If we’d known of any such place, we would have stopped there to resupply instead of having to sail all the way back to Belize.”

They turned back toward the admiral’s office. “Thank you, Lieutenant Carroway.”

“Please, call me Shaw. I might have married your sister if your brother hadn’t threatened to spread my innards in the garden for fertilizer if I asked her to dance with me again.”

Sebastian chuckled, grateful for even a minute’s distraction.

They returned to Admiral Mattingly’s office, and the lieutenant wrote out a statement of his recollections concerning the Mosquito Coast, Colonel Stephen Embry, and the nonexistent San Saturus and Costa Habichuela. With the paper secured in his coat pocket, Sebastian thanked Carroway, the admiral, and His Majesty’s Navy. Then he retrieved Merlin and headed back to London. He had a party to attend at Vauxhall, and some answers to wring out of a pretty young lady who was apparently not at all what she claimed to be.

T
he hordes that surrounded the small building, hastily labeled
Costa Habichuela Land Office
, actually cheered as Josefina and her parents disembarked from their coach. And she’d thought the crowd at the bank had been large.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” the rey said, waving. “Hello, friends, and welcome!”

“How did so many people know about this?” Josefina asked in a hushed voice as she took her father’s arm. “You only told me yesterday.”

“I arranged for the newspapers to place ads beginning yesterday morning,” he returned, falling in behind Captain Milton as the soldier led the way to the closed office doors. “Ah, there you are, Mr. Halloway, Mr. Orrin. Let’s open these doors, shall we?” The rey faced the crowd. “Thank you all for your support and your enthusiasm. I want to be the first to welcome you as new citizens of Costa Habichuela!”

The crowd roared. So many people, the majority of
them from the lower classes—clerks and farmers, rag and bone men, servants, street sweepers, miners, and bakers. They wanted new lives in paradise, and would spend every penny they owned to purchase one. It was an odd, miserable feeling to see their happy, hopeful faces and to know in a month or so every one of them would hate the idea of Costa Habichuela and everyone who represented it. They would hate her. And she would deserve it.

“Smile,” her mother whispered, taking the arm her father had released.

“How can I?” she returned.

“Because we have no alternative,
chica
.”

The Duke of Harek swept up to them. “Join the rey, Your Majesty,” he said to her mother, smiling. “I’ll keep our princess from being carried aloft on the grateful shoulders of the people.”

“That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?” Josefina commented, accepting a rose from a young girl.

“Nonsense. They worship you.
I
worship you.”

She eyed him, wishing he were Melbourne. “Do you now?”

“I do. I’ve spoken with His Majesty, in fact. And though nothing’s been formalized, I want you to know that I intend to ask for your hand.” Light green eyes assessed her. “You’re not surprised.”

“Should I be?”

His smile deepened. “I suppose not. My only concern actually, is whether you might decline in hopes of receiving a similar offer from Melbourne.”

Her heart wobbled. “Melbourne? I can barely tolerate the man.”

“You don’t have to pretend, Your Highness. His wealth and power are unmatched. But we all know he won’t marry when he’d be expected to leave England, even if he did ever decide to remarry at all.”

“You’re quite the Melbourne scholar,” she said, trying to keep her voice from tightening. Of course by now she knew what Sebastian would and wouldn’t do, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hear it said aloud. How could her father have miscalculated so?

“In some ways I am,” Harek returned in a lower voice. “For instance, I know you’ve shared a bed.”

The blood fled her face. “What? Why—”

“I don’t mind. Truly. Raising a child with Griffin blood, especially if it has enough of his looks to make its parentage apparent, could be very beneficial to us. Income-wise, I mean. So continue as you will.”

For a moment her mind refused to accept what she’d just heard. “I—I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir, and even if I did, I would not—”

“I’m not some monster, Your Highness. I did not say what I did to offend or threaten you. You are pleasing to me, and I think we will be a good match. Many marriages are made merely for political or monetary gain. That may be the case here as well, but at least we like one another. And as long as we’re in London, yes, please continue to encourage Melbourne. I see no downside to any such arrangement.”

“The…” She paused, clearing her throat and trying to gather her thoughts. “I admit,” she finally ventured, “that
now
you surprise me.”

He inclined his head. “You are a princess, and I am a duke. We are above most of the nonsense that concerns other people.”

“Thank you, Lord Harek.”

“Please call me Charles.”

“Charles, then.”

Lieutenant May approached, bowing with his hand across his breast. “Your Highness, His Majesty requests that you join him and the queen.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

So that was the life she should expect. Before she’d arrived in London, when she and her father had studied the registry looking for unmarried aristocrats with whom they might form an alliance, she’d been looking at wealth, and the age and elevation of the title. And then she’d set eyes on Sebastian Griffin, and even with her requirements satisfied, her expectations had heightened.

As she’d already realized, Harek was a much better match for her than Melbourne. Charles didn’t ask questions, and he kept quiet about what he knew.

Harek was the match she needed to make. But the part of her that was simply Josefina Embry, without the tangles and webs and complications, didn’t want a husband who approved of her having affairs, who would just stand by and let anything happen because it either didn’t affect him, or it happened to be to his benefit.

And yet a choice in such matters belonged to someone who hadn’t trodden the path she’d taken. Besides, her father was taking care of the problem the Duke of Melbourne posed. A shiver ran through her again.

Was she that person? Someone like Harek who allowed the wrong things to happen? She had been, before. She’d helped them along. It shouldn’t have been a difficult question now—if she did nothing, she remained wealthy and safe and free. If she acted to help Melbourne, she and her parents would probably hang.

Unless there was a third alternative. She had approximately ten hours to come up with one. And a luncheon with Sebastian’s sisters and his delightfully imaginative daughter to further complicate matters.

For the first time she wondered if she could do this. But the consequences if she failed were too horrific to contemplate. And so were the ones if she succeeded.

“Do you actually know any pirates?”

Josefina smiled as Sebastian’s daughter buttered a thick slice of bread. “Well, if they admitted to piracy they could be arrested, but I had my suspicions. There was one fellow who wore an eyepatch and always had a green parrot on his shoulder. I’m fairly certain he was a pirate.”

The little girl bounced in her seat, her eyes widening. “What was his name? I have several lists I’ve made of known pirates.”

“He called himself Dread Ned.”

“Oh,” Lady Penelope breathed. “A new one. Did he have all his arms and legs?”

“Peep,” Eleanor Lady Deverill said, grinning behind her napkin, “you must let Princess Josefina eat. You’ll starve her to death.”

“But I have to add Dread Ned to my list.”

“I don’t mind,” Josefina put in. “Truthfully, it’s fun to discuss something other than Costa Habichuela.”

The girl shifted sideways in her chair at the outdoor café where they sat, then leaned against Josefina’s right arm. “I’m glad we could have luncheon today,” she said happily, devouring her bread. “I like you very much, Princess Josefina.”

Heavens
. Such a small gesture, leaning on her arm, but it said so much. It spoke of trust, of reliance—not traits with which she had much experience. Today, it warmed her insides as few other things ever had. “I like you very much, too, Lady Penelope. Call me Josefina.”

“Josefina. And you may call me Peep. Could you describe Dread Ned in detail, so I may do a sketch of him?”

“Of course, Peep. Anything to help your research.”

From the pleased, amused expressions of Peep’s aunts, she’d said the right thing. Peep had done her share of being charming as well. The girl was delightful, and from her easy confidence was clearly her father’s darling.

For a moment she allowed herself to think that she and young Peep could easily be fast friends—until she considered tonight. If anything happened to Sebastian it would be her fault, and then Peep would hate her. And she would hate herself. Five hours. She had five hours remaining to think of something that could protect both the Duke of Melbourne and herself—and Peep—from harm.

Valentine Corbett met the coach as Eleanor stepped back onto her drive. “Hello, my love,” he drawled, kissing her in the way that still made her toes curl.

“Not in front of the servants,” she muttered, pushing at his shoulder.

“Anywhere we bloody well please,” he rumbled back, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her up the steps and into the house.

Eleanor yelped. “Valentine!”

“How was your luncheon with Her Highness?” He sat on the couch in the morning room, settling her comfortably across his lap.

“Peep adores her. She’s already making plans to steal a ship and sail to Costa Habichuela for a visit. They would have spent the day sketching pirates if we’d had enough time.”

“And what about the chit herself?”

Eleanor ran a finger along his chin. “Why so curious, Deverill?”

He took her finger into his mouth, gazing at her as he sucked.

Her heart accelerated. “I know how naughty you are, but I won’t let you distract me.”

“From what, my heart?”

“Valen—”

The morning room door opened as her husband kissed
her again, slow and soft. “Go away, Hobbes,” Valentine ordered, otherwise ignoring the intrusion.

“Get your hands off my sister, you blackguard,” Shay’s mild voice came.

“My apologies,” Valentine countered, emerald eyes twinkling as he gazed at Eleanor. “Go away,
Charlemagne
.” He kissed her again.

“Have either of you seen Sebastian?”

Valentine straightened. Her heart pounding now for another reason entirely, Eleanor stood. “What do you mean, have we seen him?” she snapped. “That’s a rather alarming question.”

“Melbourne can take care of himself,” Valentine commented, stretching out his long legs. “I think the question is, what’s happened to make you need to find him so urgently, Shay?”

It continued to amaze Eleanor the way her husband could find the exact heart of a matter. “Yes, Shay, why do you want to find him so badly?”

Her brother’s face folded into a frown. “I can’t say.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?” she pressed.

“I’ll assume all of this means you haven’t seen him.” Shay turned for the door. “As you were, then.”

“Shay, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Valentine, don’t let him leave.”

With a sigh her husband pushed to his feet. “Save both of us from a messy bout of fisticuffs and unbutton, Charlemagne,” he muttered, walking toward the doorway.

“Damnation. Look. I know we all feel justified in meddling in Melbourne’s…dealings with the princess, but there are some things we—he—have uncovered that tell me this is more serious than we thought.”

“More serious?” Eleanor repeated, closing on her brother and grabbing his arm. “You mean between them?”

“No. I mean…” He looked from one of them to the other, swearing under his breath. “I promised him.”

“So you and Melbourne know something, and as usual he makes a sweeping pronouncement that no one else is permitted to learn anything.”

“Nell, don’t make more of this than—”

“We had luncheon today with Princess Josefina, you know,” she interrupted. “Sarala, Caro, and I. And I brought Peep along, because she’s been begging to see the princess again. And I’ve invited her family to our next Griffin dinner.”

“Don’t,” he said abruptly.

“Why not?”

He blew out his breath. “Fine. I took a look at the Costa Habichuela prospectus,” he grumbled, sitting beside the fireplace. “It seemed familiar, so I did some comparisons. It’s stolen from several other works, including an old survey done of Jamaica. Seb confronted the princess about it, and apparently didn’t like the answers he got.”

“‘Apparently’?” Valentine repeated.

“He did some more research and found an explorer who’s teaching at Eton. We met with him the day before yesterday. He confirmed that there is nowhere on the Mosquito Coast that resembles a paradise, that he’s never heard of Costa Habichuela, and that the city of San Saturus is an old prospector’s camp where the last three occupants apparently died from swamp gas poisoning and had their bones picked clean by ants.”

“No.” Eleanor blanched. “He has to be mistaken. That would mean—”

“It would mean that Melbourne’s princess has been telling some untruths,” her husband took up. “How convinced is Sebastian that something nefarious is going on?”

“Fairly. I have some new information for him, but he’s not in Parliament, and he’s not at home. Merlin’s gone, as well.” Shay ground his fist into his thigh. “I had the feeling—a very strong feeling, actually—that Seb liked Princess Josefina.”

“We all did. That’s why we’ve been meddling.”
Blast
. How often had all of them heard Melbourne’s speech about proceeding with caution, about not making a decisive move without having all of the facts to hand? And Peep had already practically added Josefina to the family. Damnation. “If he had told us what his suspicions were instead of behaving in his usual high-handed manner, I…well, I certainly wouldn’t have invited her anywhere, blast it all.”

“Beg off,” Shay said. “We have four days. Who’s hosting our dinner this week?”

“Zach and Caro. All the Witfelds will be there, as well.”

Valentine snorted. “An hour with Mrs. Witfeld might drive the entire royal family back to South America.”

“If only we could rely on that happening.” Biting her lip, Eleanor faced her brother again. “We can’t beg off without arousing suspicion. What we need to do is find out what Melbourne’s plans are.”

“Hence my coming here to find him. And since you know this business now, we need to inform Zach, too.”

“I’ll do that,” she said. “You and Valentine keep looking for Sebastian.”

Her husband kissed her softly on the mouth. “Time to be heroes,” he drawled, and motioned Shay toward the door.

As soon as the men were gone, Eleanor sent word for the coach to be readied again. This was awful. She’d liked Josefina Embry. They all had. Including Sebastian. She wanted to ride to that woman’s house and demand to know exactly what was going on.