What A Gentleman Wants (38 page)

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Authors: Caroline Linden

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Regency

BOOK: What A Gentleman Wants
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Marcus steered her toward his study with a low laugh. “Never mind her, darling,” he said, as if he knew what she was thinking. “Come with me.” Hannah let herself be guided. Inside the study, the heavy oak door closed behind them, he pulled her gently into his arms and just held her. Hannah went limp against him, unable to speak. He had almost died. To save her daughter he had put himself in great peril, and then to save his brother he had done it again. A man incapable of love, people had called him, but they were wrong; he had proved himself capable of the greatest possible love. And he loved
her
. Her throat felt tight.

“You saved me,” he whispered. Hannah gave a sniffling laugh.

“Barely. Mr. Timms must think I’m quite a shrew, after the way I railed at him.”

“Timms, of all people, will appreciate what you did. He’s been trying to stop the counterfeiting ring for months.” He smoothed the tangled hair back from her face. “Are you sure you’re unhurt?”

She nodded, her heart turning over at the concern in his face. A tapping at the door interrupted before either could speak, but when she made to step away from him, Marcus didn’t let her go. “Come,” he called.

A servant brought in the tea tray. “You may go,” Marcus said, and the footman bowed out again. “Sit down.” Marcus finally released her. Hannah thankfully sank into a nearby chair. He crossed the room to the walnut cabinet and came back with a bottle of brandy. Pulling another chair close, he poured a cup of tea, then added some liquor. “Drink,” he commanded, wrapping her hands around the teacup and waiting until she obeyed.

“Now.” He sat forward, his eyes intent. “I intend to question Lily. She’s more likely to tell us much more than Bentley ever will, and is therefore my main hope of answering my questions. I know you must have some questions as well for her, but will you allow me to proceed first?”

Hannah nodded, taking another sip of the brandy-spiked tea. He was Lily’s employer, after all, and had the right to do with her as he saw fit

“Even if you disagree with my methods?” he pressed. Hannah opened her mouth to protest, rather indig-nandy, then remembered the Redleys, and closed it. He grinned at her. “If you have anything to add, I shall yield to you,” he said. “Rest assured, I want to know everything she has to tell us.”

Hannah nodded again. After urging her to finish the tea, Marcus went behind his desk, taking something out of the cabinet behind it. He flipped open a file and sat down at
the
desk just as a knock sounded.

He looked up; his eyes met hers. Hannah put down her empty cup and nodded once. Marcus smiled encouragingly, then called, “Come.”

Lily edged into the room, as fearful as a woman climbing the guillotine steps. Her eyes flicked from Hannah to Marcus. “Your Grace.” She curtseyed.

“Sit,” he said, the imposing duke once more. Head down, Lily scurried across the room and took the chair he indicated. For a long moment Marcus just studied her as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing. The silence stretched to an unnerving length. Hannah barely kept herself from leaping up and screeching at Lily, but she had promised him she wouldn’t. And to be honest, she didn’t particularly mind that he was scaring the girl.

“So,” he said suddenly, making Lily jump. “I have a spy in my household.”

The maid cast a fleeting, agonized glance at Hannah, but said nothing.

“A spy who not only sneaks into my private office in the dead of night to commit who knows what mis-chief, but who kidnaps innocent children and conspires with murderers and thieves,” he went on in the same deadly soft voice. “I doubt Bentley told you the penalty for murder, particularly that of a duke, is to be hanged. The rest would no doubt land you in prison for a great many years, assuming you would survive that long.” He clasped his hands before him on the desk. “The only reason the Runners have not arrived yet is that I want answers. What made you betray me and my family?”

Lily looked frightened enough to faint. “Please, Your Grace,” she whimpered. “I didn’t steal the baby, I didn’t, I kept her safe…”

“Answer me!” he snapped. “Why did you betray me?”

The maid flinched, giving a small squeak of terror. “Mr. Reece, sir,” she said, her voice trembling. “He— he told me—”

Marcus didn’t say a word, but he leaned forward with a black look on his face. Lily went even paler, and started speaking much more quickly. “He told me th-that his f-father was really the firstborn, before your father, Your Grace, sir, and that there were documents here in your office that would prove he, I mean Mr. Reece, sir, had been cheated. He’s-said he should be the duke, and that you and your father had hidden the evidence, and if I just helped him find it he would…” She swallowed hard. “He would take care of me,” she finished. “Because he said he knew we shared the same f-father.”

If Marcus were as surprised as Hannah was by this, he didn’t show it. “Rubbish,” he said disdainfully. “Think of a better story.”

“Oh, no, it’s true!” the girl exclaimed. “I mean, that’s what he told me. And I said I couldn’t do it at first, but then… he knew about my mother, and he said he was so sorry for the way his father treated her, that he knew I was his sister, and he wanted to do right by me.” She flushed. “And I never knew my father. My mum told me he died when I was a baby, but she never talked about him. And now I got no one but myself, and… and…” She huddled on the chair, her voice small and unhappy. “I didn’t know about no murder, and if there really was proof he should be the duke, it was rightfully his, weren’t it? I never thought he meant to hurt anyone, just make things right. It was so easy, what he asked me to do, until he wanted the baby. That I couldn’t do, no matter what.” She swung around to Hannah. “I swear I wouldn’t have let him hurt your little girl, madam,” she pleaded.

Marcus made a quiet growl of disapproval. “What did he ask you to do?”

Lily wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “All I was to do was unlock the window there,” she said, pointing to the French windows across from the desk. “That, and answer his questions every now and then. Mostly about you, madam,” she added to Hannah. “He was terribly interested in you.”

“What did he want to know?”

The maid thought for a second. “What Her Grace was like,” she said. “What sort of woman was she, were the rumors of a love match true.” She flushed pink again. “I said I thought not,” she whispered. “Or else that there had been a quarrel, because of how I never saw—well—in your room, madam—”

“Yes, I understand,” Hannah cut her off, trying not to turn pink herself. Lily had never seen Marcus in her room until that morning, when he’d been naked in her bed. No wonder Lily had dropped the breakfast tray. Hannah ignored the subtle flicker of amusement in Marcus’s eyes when he glanced at her.

“And you told him about Molly,” he said, switching his attention back to Lily.

The maid nodded miserably. “To my everlasting shame, madam. That’s how he knew you loved your baby so much.”

“Hmph.” Marcus leaned back, not willing to let the girl off the hook yet. He believed her, though. It fit with everything he’d overheard between David and Bentley, and what he’d pieced together on his own. He’d forgotten his father and Bentley’s father had also been twins; unlike Marcus and David, they’d been as different as the sun and moon. So Bentley thought—or had persuaded himself—that he was the rightful duke, and didn’t care how he made it reality. He wondered if Bentley truly suspected there were documents suggesting it in the study, or if he’d just wanted a chance to dig through Marcus’s affairs.

And playing on a young woman’s desire to know her true father was something Bentley would do without qualm, manipulating her and using her for his own purposes. Marcus wasn’t sure his cousin wouldn’t have ended up trying to frame Lily for murder, if his plan had succeeded. A bastard daughter nursing a grudge against the family that kept her a lowly maid by murdering the head of that family? Yes, Bentley was capable of that, probably even handing her over to the authorities himself and claiming to have discovered her plot.

“He said his father was also your father,” he repeated. “What proof did he offer?”

She blinked at him. “Why, he…” She faltered. “He admitted it. He said he’d found his father’s journal, and read the whole story there, how his father had seduced my mother when she was a maid at Ainsley Park. He… he said he was appalled,” she mumbled, looking disillusioned. “He told me he couldn’t do anything to publicly name me his sister, but that he considered me such, and would provide for me as a brother should. And as a sister, I should help him.”

“Did he show you the journal?”

“No, Your Grace,” she whispered.

“Did he offer anything but his word?”

She shook her head. Marcus took a deep breath and let it out.

“My uncle has been dead for several years,” he told her. “From what I remember of Bernard, he was not the sort to leave anything of the kind in a journal. Bernard was a dreamer, an artist who had no head for anything but painting and drawing. And if he had trifled with one of the maids at Ainsley Park, my father would have held him accountable for it.” He paused. “I expect Bentley knew this.”

Lily nodded. “Yes, Your Grace,” she mumbled. “I was a bloody fool to listen.”

He couldn’t help a pinprick of sympathy. That was Hannah’s fault, he thought to himself, although without malice. Before her, he’d not have spared a thought for Lily. “How old are you?” he asked in a clipped voice. Even though Bendey’s story was highly unlikely, he probably couldn’t prove it false, but he would try. If nothing else, it would drive home to Lily that she had betrayed her employer for a string of lies.

Lily swallowed. “Near three-and-twenty, Your Grace.”

He thought back for a moment. “Twenty-two years ago my father married Rosalind. Bernard would have been at Exeter then. But the year before…” He shook his head, remembering. “No, he was not at Exeter. He was on the Continent for almost two years previous. I remember listening to his stories of Italy and Greece the following summer, during the wedding festivities.”

Lily bowed her head, her clenched hands trembling in her lap. Hannah saw her blink several times before a single tear splashed onto her skirt. Almost unwillingly, she felt her anger ebbing. Lily had done something terribly wrong, but she had had a compelling reason. And in the end, not even wanting to discover her father had let her give Molly to Bentley.

She glanced at Marcus, and knew from his expression that he didn’t care what had made Lily do it. He only cared that she had betrayed him, spied on him, and cooperated with the man who had wanted to kill him. He would probably send her to prison, Hannah realized, a girl not even twenty-three years old. It seemed terrible, and yet, Lily had no one to blame but herself.

But then Marcus met her eyes, and the grim look faded a little. “What will you do with her?” he asked evenly. Lily gave a muffled gasp. Hannah’s lips parted in surprise.

“I?”

He inclined his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “You.”

For a moment she didn’t know what to do. How could she decide Lily’s punishment, when she was sitting here feeling sorry for the girl? Didn’t he want to send her to Newgate? It was perfectly within his right… But then, he knew that. He was letting her decide because of Molly. Hannah got to her feet, thinking. “Do you remember what you offered me, when I first arrived?” A quick frown touched his brow, then vanished. He nodded. “May I have it now?”

He gave her a piercing look, but finally nodded again. Pulling out a small book, he wrote for a moment, then handed a paper to her. Hannah took it and turned to Lily.

The maid looked up at her fearfully. “It was a wicked thing you did,” Hannah began. “And not even Mr. Reece’s story should have made you spy on His Grace and on me. You know you cannot remain in this house.” Another tear slipped down Lily’s cheek, but she said nothing. “But you didn’t give my daughter to Mr. Reece, and for that I must forgive you the rest. You may go.” She handed Lily the bank draft. “This is for you to make a fresh, honest, start somewhere else.”

Lily took the paper as if afraid it might bite her. “You—you won’t send me to prison?” she asked in a quavering voice.

“No. But you should know it was a close call. You would do best not to tempt fate again.”

“No, madam.” Lily fingered me draft gingerly, her eyes widening at me amount, then carefully tucked it into the pocket of her apron. She got to her feet “Thank you, madam. Thank you, ”tbur Grace. I shan’t—“

“Go,” said Marcus. Lily closed her mouth at once, bobbed a quick curtsey, and fled. Hannah watched her go, hoping she had done the right thing. Marcus would have been completely justified to send for the Runners and have Lily dragged away, and perhaps she had been too lenient But after her pose as the duchess of Exeter, Hannah didn’t feel she was in a position to cast stones at others for lying. If Lily hadn’t cooperated with Bent-ley by spying on Marcus, Bentley wouldn’t have asked her to help kidnap Molly; he would have sent someone else who wouldn’t have hesitated a second. Hannah didn’t have it in her to repay that by sending the maid to prison.

Impulsively, she turned to Marcus. “Thank you.”

He raised one brow. “For what?”

She put her head to one side and smiled. “You know what.”

Now his eyes glittered with mirth. “Ah, for last night. You are most welcome.”

“Wretch!” she exclaimed, laughing. “I meant for not sending Lily to prison.”

He got to his feet with a shrug. “Bentley fooled many more astute people. I myself never would have believed he’d have the intelligence to plan such a scheme, let alone execute it. Bentley’s the one I want rotting in prison, not a girl who fell for a story she wanted to believe.”

“I know. But thank you all the same.”

He regarded her for a moment, one corner of his mouth tugging upward. “You’ve too kind a heart Redley, David, Lily… everyone wins your forgiveness.”

“Stop,” she said, shaking her head.

“Even I.” The laughter had faded from his tone, and when she looked up at him, his expression was serious once more. “I really was abominable to you at the beginning,” he added softly. “I am sorry for it.”

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