Sins of a Duke (4 page)

“That’s not pirate music,” Sebastian corrected. “It’s a sailor’s jig.” He returned his gaze to the princess, aware that he didn’t like having her in his house—which was odd, considering the number of parliamentary members whom he personally detested but had welcomed in over a brandy simply to gain their support on some matter or another. “Where did a royal princess learn a jig, if I might ask?”

She finished with a flourish. “I wasn’t always a princess. My father was only granted Costa Habichuela and proclaimed rey by its people two years ago.”

He took a step closer as she stood. She’d worn a white sprig muslin dotted with a rainbow of spring flowers, a green cross sewn onto the left sleeve. “And what were you before you became a princess?”

“The daughter of a much-decorated and well-beloved army colonel, and the granddaughter of a Venezuelan viceroy,” she returned, lifting her chin. “What were you before you became a duke?”

“A duke’s son.” And the Marquis of Halpern, but that didn’t signify at the moment. He knew the point she was attempting to make.

“Hm. So my father earned his royalty by acclaim, and you inherited your title.”

“And what did you do to gain yours, Your Highness?”

She sniffed. “And to think, I came here with the idea of asking for peace between us, and you only continue to insult me.”

“Did you insult her, Papa?” Peep asked from beside Mrs. Beacham, where both had been watching the exchange, wide-eyed.

“Not until she slapped me.”

“You hit my papa?” Peep exclaimed, her gray eyes narrowing. “He’s the Duke of Melbourne—the greatest man
in England!”

Princess Josefina’s gaze hadn’t left his face. “England is a very small country, my dear.”

“You—”

“Mrs. Beacham,” Sebastian interrupted, “please remove Lady Penelope and yourself immediately.”

The governess gave a hurried curtsy and pulled Peep to the door. “At once, Your Grace.” As the door swung to behind them, he heard her continue. “And that is why we do not invite strangers into the house, young lady.”

“But she said she was a prin—” The door clicked shut.

Sebastian took a deep, hopefully steadying breath. “Since you are unchaperoned, Your Highness, allow me to escort you outside. I will provide my coach for you if you wish, and then I will send a note to Prinny explaining that for personal reasons I must decline his offer of a position aiding your country’s government.”

Considering that as head of the Griffin family he could probably buy and sell her little country, he expected a swift apology and a hasty retreat. Instead the princess stalked up to him, hands on her hips. “Good! I’m certain your Regent could find someone more qualified than you by looking in the nearest brothel!”

“Enough,”
he snarled, striding forward. She would stop insulting him.

Sebastian grabbed her by the shoulders. He yanked her forward. And then he kissed her.

He wasn’t delicate about it, either. The princess shoved against his chest, then groaned and swept her arms up behind his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair. God, her lips were soft and warm, melting against his. Heated arousal swirled down his spine. Holding her hard against his body, he nudged her mouth open with his tongue, tasting and plundering.

With another shuddering moan from her that had his
cock straining at his trousers, Princess Josefina abruptly pushed him away so hard that he stumbled.
“Maldita sea!”
she exclaimed, her gaze focused on his mouth. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

Christ, what was wrong with him?
“It seemed the most effective way to shut you up,” he panted, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

“You—for my father’s sake, I will say nothing of this,” she managed, straightening the front of her gown and belatedly backing away from him. “You had best do the same.”

“Don’t fret about that,” he returned feelingly.

“But you now owe me a good turn,” she stated.

“How is that?”

“You assaulted me!”

“I did no such thing.”

“Bah! My father has set an appointment to see Sir Henry Sparks today, and he asks that you join him at the Bank of England at three o’clock. I do not wish to have to tell him why you chose to decline, so I will expect you to be there, Duke.” She retrieved her reticule from the seat of the pianoforte. “Is that clear?”

Ruthlessly he squelched his flaring desire. If he grabbed her again, he wouldn’t stop at a kiss. “Abundantly clear. I can only hope, however, that you will be elsewhere.”

She stopped halfway to the music room door. “I go where I please. And no mere duke or one…amateurish kiss can convince me otherwise.”

“‘Amateurish’?” he echoed, moving up behind her. “You knew it would happen. That’s why you came here in person instead of sending a note.” Reaching past her, intentionally brushing her bare arm with his hand, he pulled open the door. “You’ve been attempting to seduce me since the moment we met.”

“Mentiroso,”
she snapped. “Liar.”

“Mm-hm. You wanted me to kiss you,” he murmured into her ear, blocking her way with his shoulder. “You want me to do so again.”

“I cannot be responsible for your flights of imagination, Melbourne. Now move aside.”

He stepped sideways, letting her pass. Sebastian watched her hips sway as she descended the stairs. “Stanton, hire Her Highness a hack,” he instructed. Whatever she was up to, it seemed to have something to do with connecting herself to him. He would therefore take steps to minimize that.

“Right away, Your Grace.”

For a second she turned to stare back up at him, her brown eyes glinting. “Bah,” she finally muttered, and stomped out the door behind the butler.

As he turned around he caught sight of another of the footmen, taking firewood into the drawing room. “John, when Stanton returns to his post, please inform him that I am not to be disturbed,” he grunted, and clomped down the stairs to his office without waiting for an answer.

He’d thought that—well, he hadn’t thought at all, in the music room—once he kissed Josefina he would understand her nature, seductive and demure one moment, and a direct, confrontational force of nature the next, and be able to set her aside. After kissing her, though, the foremost thought in his mind was that he wanted to do so again. Badly.

J
osefina lowered the magnifier and looked up at her father. “Are you certain Mr. Halloway hasn’t done this all his life?” she asked with a smile in the clerk’s direction. “Father always said you were a fine army clerk, but I believe legal documents are your forté.”

The clerk blushed. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’ve been studying English property law.”

“It shows.”

“We’ll have nearly a hundred of the bonds for our meeting this afternoon.”

The clerk made a quick calculation on a piece of scrap paper. “One hundred thirty-seven, by three o’clock, Your Majesty.”

“Splendid.”

Josefina took her father’s arm as they left the back rooms of Colonel Branbury’s house. “Who would have thought that making a country would require so much ink?”

He chuckled. “I never would have, if I hadn’t watched so
many other movements rise and fall. It’s all well and good to declare independence from Spain and set up a government based on strong principles. But Spain has principles, as well, and even more importantly, they have an army.”

“An army you’ve fought on numerous occasions.”

“Under Diego Rivera and Simon Bolivar—who both have failed with nothing but principles and conviction to back them up. This is now
my
great project. And at the moment I have a personal guard and some poorly armed volunteers. It’s logical that we raise capital. I think the Bank of England will see that. Once Sir Henry Sparks accepts our proposal, his own people can take over the printing of the bonds, and
our
people can concentrate on stirring interest in buying them.”

“What if Spain steps in before you have your capital? Or what if England refuses to invest?”

“You worry too much. King Qental gave me the land, and Spain is presently much more concerned with Bonaparte than with the Rey of Costa Habichuela. And I did a great deal of research before I requested that we be introduced to the Duke of Melbourne. He knows if we aren’t successful here we’ll have to go to Prussia or to France. England wants another toehold in Central America, and even more than that it doesn’t want France to have one. We are a very low-risk proposition, Josefina, with a very great opportunity for reward and profit.”

“You are brilliant, Father, if I haven’t told you so recently,” she returned. It made a great deal of sense. Her father was a master strategist, and even without his abundance of wit and charm, Sir Henry, the Bank of England, Melbourne, and anyone with a few extra pounds to invest would be foolish to pass the opportunity by.

“Thank you. And of course if the daughter of the rey were to marry the head of one of the oldest, most respected, and wealthiest families in England, that would help the
cause of Costa Habichuela more than any words possibly could. As I said, I did my research.”

And that very person had kissed her only an hour ago. Melbourne kissed like the devil himself—all heat and no quarter given. He’d practically devoured her. Her pulse sped at just the thought of it. “A good fit for our needs or not, Melbourne isn’t a fool. He will know the two of us are being thrown together, if he hasn’t realized it already.”

“And what’s wrong with that? He’s a duke, and you’re a princess.”

“Two years ago I wasn’t a princess. A Griffin has been a duke practically since before Caesar.”

“And yet he is a man, and you, my dear, are a very attractive young lady of two-and-twenty.”

“Five-and-twenty.”

“Previously married dukes, I’ve found, prefer their brides to be young and virginal. For Costa Habichuela you can lose three years.” He smiled at her again, his blond moustache curving. “Even when I was Captain Embry in George the Third’s army, even when I was Colonel Embry under General Bolivar, you were a princess. Wherever we went, do you think your mother and I provided you with the best education, the best tutors, so you could marry a farmer or a shopkeeper? I’ve always said that everything happens—”

“—for a reason,” she finished, smiling back at him. “So you were meant to be the Rey of Costa Habichuela.”

“Yes, I was. It’s the second greatest achievement of my life, after you.” He kissed her forehead again. “And you were meant to marry a man so great that in my youth I wouldn’t have dared look him in the eye.”

A shiver ran through her, though she wasn’t certain whether it was one of anticipation or of dread. Melbourne kissed well, but if he ever blinked and realized that he’d been led somewhere he didn’t want to go, the conse
quences could be disastrous. “Before his wife died she gave him a daughter, you know.”

“I know. And you’ll give him a son. And a country to rule.” He pulled out his pocket watch as Captain Milton appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Ah, it’s time. Let’s go meet a banker, shall we?”

The impression they made this afternoon with Sir Henry Sparks would be the most important of their trip to England. Josefina knew her father had rehearsed his arguments for weeks, though he hoped they wouldn’t be necessary. As for her, she was ready to be regal and confident, whatever insults Melbourne might throw at her. She had a good head for figures, and she’d done her own research, as well.

As the coach stopped at the foot of the wide steps leading up to the Bank of England building, she leaned past Mr. Orrin, her father’s business advisor, to look through the window. A short, portly man with a sparse peppering of gray hair stood there. Beside him and wearing dark blue and gray, stood the much taller and leaner figure of Melbourne.

“Right on time,” her father muttered, stepping to the ground and offering his hand. “A very good sign.”

She hoped so. As Melbourne faced their approach, she could practically feel his dark gray gaze on her skin, even through the elegant emerald-colored gown she’d worn for the occasion. Josefina resisted the urge to touch the small silver tiara woven into her hair—she’d only worn it once before and considered it a bit much, but as her father had said, this was the meeting that would dictate the course of their future.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness,” the duke said, inclining his head, “may I present Sir Henry Sparks, director of the Bank of England? Sir Henry, Stephen, Rey of Costa Habichuela and his daughter, Princess Josefina.”

The bank director bowed low, much more respectfully than Melbourne had. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Your Majesty, Your Highness. His Grace tells me that you have some business you wish to discuss.”

“Indeed we do,” her father said with an easy smile.

“Then let’s go inside to my office.”

As they followed Sir Henry into the large building, employees and clients alike stopped to watched them pass. They probably recognized Melbourne, but she and her father and their advisor and two bodyguards must have made an impression, as well.

They sat in front of a large mahogany desk set in the middle of the small but well-appointed office. Sir Henry offered the seat behind the desk to Melbourne, but the duke declined, instead leaning a haunch against a low credenza. Orrin stood directly behind her father.

“Now, Your Majesty,” the banker began, “what may I—and the Bank of England—do for you?”

“Before I answer that,” her father returned, “perhaps I might give you a little information about myself and Costa Habichuela.”

“Of course.”

“I was born in Cornwall, and thanks to my family’s influence, bought a lieutenant’s commission in the army when I turned seventeen. After ten years I found myself growing restless, sold what had become a captaincy, and decided to travel.”

“That’s very admirable,” Sir Henry commented. Josefina didn’t think he meant it as a compliment. He would.

“Thank you. It was when I reached the northeast coast of South America, however, that my true adventure began. I hadn’t been there long when I began hearing of the oppressive Spanish rule, and of a growing move to force Spain to give up her American territories. At this same time I gained an introduction to General Simon Bolivar, a
champion of the people. Apparently he was as impressed with me as I was with him, because he offered me a position as a major under his command.

“For years we fought together, driving the Spanish out of town after town, valley after valley. I gained a promotion to colonel under my own command, in the meantime meeting and marrying my wife, Maria Costanza-y-Veneza, and having a daughter, Josefina.”

“This is all fascinating, Your Majesty, but—”

“Please allow me to finish, Sir Henry,” her father broke in. “I assure you, this all has relevance.”

“Go on,” Melbourne said quietly. Much more than Sir Henry, Josefina guessed, he was assessing her father’s words. After all, if the bank decided to issue bonds to aid the development of Costa Habichuela, it would be in part because of him. Even in Jamaica, everyone knew of the Griffin family and their impeccable reputation and unmatched power and influence. Yes, the investment was a sound, low-risk one, but Melbourne as much as Sir Henry needed to be convinced of that.

“My men and I were on a sweep of the eastern coast of Central America, on our way south to rendezvous with the main army. We came across a group of Spanish soldiers attacking a small, beautiful city located between a low range of mountains and a deep, secluded harbor. We drove them off, and the people thanked us with a three-day-long feast. As we were preparing to leave and meet up with the main forces, Qental, King of the Mosquito Coast, arrived. Seeing that I was English, he told me that without outside help even isolated parts of the Mosquito Coast such as this one would be lost to Spain. And then he gave it to me.”

She’d heard the story a hundred times, but Josefina still enjoyed listening to it. Her gaze caught Melbourne, to find that he was looking straight back at her. She didn’t
know what he might be hoping to see, but to herself she could admit that she liked having him look.

“That same night the people of San Saturus—that’s the name of the city we saved—declared me to be their ruler, their rey, as they call it. And their well-being and safety became my primary concern. There is so much potential for growth and expansion there—which is why I need your help.”

“An English foothold other than Belize in Central and South America could be very beneficial,” Sir Henry said absently, almost to himself. “Are the citizens Spanish? Once their gratitude at being saved from marauders wears thin, they may want to return to Spanish rule.”

The rey sat forward. “That’s the beauty of Costa Habichuela. The citizens never were Spanish. They are mostly natives, coupled with a great many English and Scots who’ve migrated there from other, Spanish-dominated territories. They are extremely happy to have even more distance between themselves and Spain. And to be honest, with the mountains at our back and an easily defensible bay at our front, we are in a perfect location to ensure a long and stable rule.”

“How much land did the Mosquito King give you?” Sir Henry asked, practically rubbing his hands together.

“A million acres. I have a map,” the rey returned. “Orrin? I can show you precisely.”

As the former sergeant dug into his satchel and produced a large map of Costa Habichuela showing its position on the eastern coast of Central America, Melbourne straightened and moved closer.

“What happened to the men?” he asked.

The rey furrowed his brow. “Beg pardon?”

“You said that you and your men were supposed to rendezvous with the main part of the rebel army. What happened to them, and to the army?”

“Oh. I sent them on under my second-in-command. I tendered my resignation, as did several of my most loyal men—the ones who’d served with me through the years, like Orrin here. They now make up most of my personal guard and cabinet ministers.”

“So you have a stable government, a stable population, and a beautiful capital city in an ideal location,” Melbourne said, looking over the map.

“Precisely.”

“What do you need a loan for, then?”

Josefina’s father actually sent
her
a quick, annoyed glance. Was she supposed to have swayed Melbourne already? She’d only seen him four times, now. And kissed him once. She drew a breath. “Not even Eden could stand still in the midst of progress and hope to survive,” she said. “Costa Habichuela needs to be able to thrive into the future. We must be able to govern effectively, and to protect ourselves. If England is unable to assist us,” she continued for good measure, “we will have to find someone who can. We have no choice in this.”

“What amount did you have in mind?” Sir Henry asked, running a finger along the generous borders of Costa Habichuela. “A loan to a newly formed country is a risky proposition at best.”

“Actually,” the rey returned, “this loan won’t be much of a risk at all. I would like the opportunity to secure a permanent friendship between our two countries. I’ve taken the liberty of having several bonds drawn up. That way any loan you made to my government would immediately become an investment opportunity for every progress-minded Englishman.”

“Hm,” Sir Henry mused, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I have to say, given the background of Costa Habichuela, purchasing bonds from you—or me, rather—certainly seems far more sound than a European
investment right now. And as you said, a great portion of South America is fighting over who governs it.” He looked up at Melbourne. “What’s your opinion on this, Your Grace?”

Melbourne looked at the map for a long moment while Josefina held her breath. She and her father might both outrank the duke, but here in England he definitely had more power and influence.

“Costa Habichuela might very well be a safer investment than any other foreign one I can think of at the moment,” he finally said, “but it’s also very new and very far away. I think if you intend to garner sufficient interest to support a loan of any large amount, you’ll have to offer some sort of incentive.”

“A discounted bond perhaps?” Sir Henry continued. “That worked quite well for bolstering monetary support of Chile a few years ago.”

The rey sat back, stroking his moustache with his fingers. “You know, gentlemen, that is a very fine idea. By offering to sell hundred-pound bonds for ninety pounds, say, we are both stating our confidence in the future and insuring a level of profit for investors.”