To Defy a Duke. A. Mervyn SmithЧитать онлайн книгу.
young suitor, he was trying to force the young Miss Whiteshead into a waiting carriage. Her mother flew at him, trying desperately to extricate her daughter from his clutches. The horses spooked. Marilyn managed to shove her daughter clear of the carriage, but her own gown was caught, and it drug her alongside the fleeing carriage, finally dragging her underneath its grinding wheels.” Drinking the last from her glass, she said bluntly, “She was killed instantly.”
Clara paused, staring into her now empty glass. “Her death devastated the family. They went into mourning, and, within the month, Alice was shipped off to her aunt in America and was not seen or heard from again for seven years.” She looked up at Colton. “Until this year.”
Colton took a few moments to digest the plethora of information that Clara had just divulged. It was quite overwhelming to his fuzzy mind. Maybe he should lighten up on the scotch.
“And whatever happened to this ambitious suitor? Was he held accountable for his crimes?”
“Strange, that. He was never identified. No one admitted any knowledge of the man, how he was admitted to the ball, or whom made the introduction to Miss Whiteshead. It was quite the mystery. But Marilyn was dead, Alice ruined, and a family destroyed, all in the course of a few minutes.”
Clara leveled a look at him. “Alice deserves a chance at redemption. She is no longer a romantic child looking for her knight in shining armor or a happily ever after. She is a grown woman of five and twenty who is sensible and has endured tragedy that would have crippled a lesser person. She is positively stunning but not vain. She would be an asset to any man but will not suffer fools.”
Her voice softened as she leaned forward. “She is loyal to a fault. She will need a strong man to stand beside her and stare down those who still falsely judge her and a strong hand to tame that spirit and use it to his own advantage.”
As if realizing she was sounding almost sentimental, Clara straightened. “Besides, it will be nothing short of a miracle if you get her to the altar. She may appear to capitulate, for now. But make no mistake, Miss Alice Marie Whiteshead has no intention of being leg shackled to you or any other man.”
And just as he was starting to soften his opinion of the chit, Clara stood up and placed her glass on his desk. “Well, I have another appointment to keep and have no further time for idle chitchat.” She walked around the desk and placed her hand on Colton’s shoulder. “I wish you the best of luck, love. You are going to need it!” Giggling, she walked to the mantle and pushed a hidden button. With a click, a secret entrance opened, and she stepped through. Peeking back out, Clara whispered, “Toodles, dear! Take care!” Pulling the door closed behind her.
Damn. He should have strangled her while he had the chance. Now he was actually contemplating his future bride and their impending marriage.
Double damn.
He rose unsteadily to his feet, using his desk as leverage. There was somewhere he was supposed to be. Given a minute or two, he may remember where that was.
Fumbling in his waistcoat, he retrieved his pocket watch. He could not seem to make out the time clearly. He must have something in his eyes. Maybe Clara had stirred up some dust when she was pretending to clean.
He was sure that there was someone he was to see shortly. Or later. The watch clearly did not know the time, nor did he.
Flopping back down in his chair, he closed his eyes. Maybe if he rested them for a few moments they would clear, as well as his head.
Maybe.
Chapter Three
Someone must be using a hammer to do repair work very close by. As in right next to his head. Or on it.
Colton was going to enjoy relieving them of their duties and having them tossed out on their backside. Without references!
He attempted to open one of his eyes to spot the culprit, but a bright light forced it closed. Who had had the bollocks to drag his bed outside directly under the midday sun?
The pounding continued, increasing the pain in his head. There was nothing for it. When he could get his body to cooperate, he was going to have to run someone through. Firing was too small of a punishment for this transgression.
He tried again to find the source of his misery and slightly turned his head. Fresh pain shot down his neck and into his shoulder which caused both eyes to fly open. Which, in turn, caused him to emit a cry of pain.
Lords Charleton and Hampshire charged through the door, their ceremonial swords drawn. Searching for the source of Colton’s distress and finding no others in the room, they slowly sheathed their weapons.
“Good Lord, man! You gave us quite a scare!” Lord Charles Charleton, the Earl of Arendon, walked back to Colton’s desk and took in his appearance. Colton sat sideways, a hand on his pained neck, his eyes mere slits, failing to filter out the light shining through the open windows. But the near empty bottle at his elbow was the most telling.
Charles smiled and looked over his shoulder at his friend, Lord Thomas Hampshire. “It seems our friend here chose to imbibe copious amounts of spirits prior to our meeting.” He looked back at Colton. “Which was scheduled to take place at the club nearly four hours ago.”
Leaning across the desk, trying to catch Colton’s eye, he asked, “What, old man, could possibly have possessed you to consume alcohol to such an excess so early in the day? Perhaps, a woman?” He smirked.
“Clara.” Although it sounded in his head like he was yelling, his voice barely came out as a whisper.
“Ah, hell.” Lord Thomas dropped into a chair across from Colton. “That woman could drive a saint to drink.”
Colton attempted to nod his agreement, but the movement created too much pain. He grunted his assent instead.
Thomas gestured toward the door. “Call to Burns, Charles. Order coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. We need our compatriot sober so he can follow our discussion.” He smiled. “And possibly contribute to it. I am anxious to hear his explanation for his abrupt engagement.”
Colton groaned. This was going to be a very long evening.
*****
“So, let me make sure I completely understand.” Charles was, unsuccessfully, trying to hold back his laughter. “Clara managed to concoct this ridiculous story on the spot and spin it, convincing every woman in the room of its veracity.” He lost his battle and started laughing, heartily. “Why, that is positively genius!”
Thomas was not faring any better although he at least tried to disguise it by looking down into his empty cup.
“It is not that amusing, Charles!” Okay, upon further reflection, it could possibly be considered somewhat humorous. But Colton had no intention of sharing that tidbit of information with these two buffoons.
Charles wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “Maybe it is time we shared some good news with our friend here, Thomas. My sides cannot take any more of Colton’s narration. Please.” Charles flipped his hand between the two. “Proceed to update him with events currently unfolding as we speak.”
“Well,” Thomas placed his cup and saucer on the desk, “it seems Clara’s information was indeed accurate. The Crown has seized the Tiger’s Eye after a thorough search, and the discovery of several hidden compartments.” He winked at Colton. “Her methods may be unconventional, but they are certainly effective!”
“So, has the captain divulged any more useful information? Has the crew been questioned?” After three hours and several cups of coffee, Colton’s mind was clear enough that he could ask the obvious questions. Any obscure inquiry would have to wait.
Charles and Thomas shared a look that Colton’s mind could not decipher.
“Er,” Charles began and abruptly stopped.
“What Charles is trying to convey is…”