An Inconvenient Mistress, page 34
Bella smirked at him, feeling suddenly weightless. The sun felt so good on her chilled skin as she floated calmly, and she was warming nicely with Phillip at her back. She took a moment to savor being alive.
“Poor Turner,” she said. “He never had a chance.”
“Poor Turner?” Phillip scoffed. “What about me?”
“What about you?” she teased.
He looked monumentally affronted. “I haven’t had a proper kiss in days, not to mention my—”
“Phillip,” she scolded.
“—are as blue as your lips,” he finished. In spite of herself, Bella actually giggled. “Now, Miss North, do you think we might start swimming toward the ship again? I see they’re sending a launch after us, but I’m freezing.”
Bella nodded and started to turn over to swim, but Phillip stopped her. “Wait,” he said. “Bella, I...” he cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Yes?” she prodded, her heart pounding in anticipation. She could read his thoughts, and what she saw left her breathless.
“You look like a mermaid,” he said with a lopsided grin. At her eye roll, he groused, “Indulge me, sweetheart. Saying this isn’t easy for me.”
She raised her chin fractionally. “I’m going to swim now, unless you have something important to tell me.”
Phillip took exhaled heavily and took the plunge. “You make me realize that I’m not entirely lost.”
“And?” she said.
“And...” he gritted his teeth. “And I need you. I need you to argue with me during the day and to make love to me at night. You, Isabella North, are the best part of me.” He looked at her, almost shyly, and said, “I love you, Bella.”
Bella curled into him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. “I love you,” she said kissing him playfully. “I might even marry you.”
He narrowed his eyes at her and pulled her tight, “You already said yes.”
“Under duress,” she protested. “I thought you were dying. It would be cruel of me to refuse a dying man his final wish.”
“You’re marrying me,” he told her, kissing her possessively.
“Ahoy,” a familiar voice called. The Frenchman said lightly, “I was going to offer some assistance, but you seem to have things well in hand.”
“Jean,” Phillip said, not tearing his eyes away from Bella. “As much as I’m enjoying my swim, a boat ride would not be unwelcome.”
Several pairs of hands helped Bella into the gig. She wondered at the sailors’ obvious discomfort—none of them would look in her direction. It wasn’t until Jean handed her a blanket with a broad grin that she realized her soaking chemise was all but transparent. Bella wrapped the fabric tightly around her, teeth chattering, while they hauled Phillip into the launch beside her.
Reynard talked and laughed all the way back to the Intrepid, assuring Phillip that his men would round up any survivors from the Gypsy and see to it that they were tried for their crimes. Captain Blair, Reynard further explained, held no animosity toward the crew of the Intrepid, as the naval captain was insisting that a rogue band of Salé Rovers had attacked the Sea Witch in an attempt to frighten them out of port. Jean, of course, had pledged his full support in tracking down those responsible.
Phillip roared in laughter at the notion of the hidebound captain fabricating such a whopper. “He’s feeling guilty for helping that worm, Witt,” he mused. “Perhaps I’ll let Blair notify the vice admiral about Witt’s demise. It might be enough to earn him a medal.”
Reynard looked at Bella then cocked his head. He said to Phillip, “So,” he said abruptly. “Have you considered my offer? I need to know what to tell Wallace and Peavey.”
“Tell them to go home,” Phillip said slowly. “I’m agreeing to your terms. I’ll see to it that the papers are drawn up as soon as I get to London.”
“Excellent,” Jean said, clapping his hands. “I look forward to doing business with you, Phillip.”
Bella watched the exchange with growing interest, but knew it would do no good to ask Phillip about it. Yet. She was going to interrogate him when she got him alone.
Sure enough the Intrepid’s crew greeted them with a cheer. Phillip bid Reynard adieu—with his gratitude and a promise to visit Salé again in half a year—then he helped Bella onboard. Even before he’d set foot on the ship he was grilling the crew.
“Charles?” he asked.
“Safe and sound,” Kolton said. “He’s with Sully in sickbay.”
“Casualties?” Phillip asked.
Kolton shook his head. “The pirates surrendered quickly, once they realized we had them outgunned. They’re locked in the brig.”
“And the Gypsy’s powder monkey?” he inquired, looking about for the boy.
“Sharp little scrap,” Kolton replied. “Once he got dried off, we gave him a bit of food and sent him below deck to help Sully.”
“Good,” Phillip nodded. “The mizzenmast?”
The quartermaster gestured to the carpenter, who was hard at work with a small crew. “Reynolds thinks we’ll have it replaced by nightfall.”
“Well done,” Phillip commended. Then he scooped Bella up and started toward his cabin. “Mister Kolton,” he threw over his shoulder, “the ship is yours. See to it that I’m not interrupted until morning.”
Ignoring the hoots and catcalls of the crew, Phillip strode down to his cabin and locked the door behind him. He deposited Bella at the foot of his bunk and began stripping off his soggy clothing. Bella stood there with her teeth chattering, watching him expectantly. Once he was completely bare, he looked up and frowned.
“You’re going to catch a chill,” he said, reaching for her. “We need to get you warm.”
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” she asked.
Phillip gave her a black look. “I’ve already declared myself. What more do you want?” he groused. When she pulled away and wrapped her blanket more tightly around her, he threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. You’ll find out eventually. Reynard has decided to expand his shipping operation into England. I’ve agreed to be his business partner.”
Bella grinned. “Phillip, that’s wonderful,” she said excitedly. “But are you certain you want to risk Society’s poor opinion of you?”
He shrugged. “There are few people whose good opinion matter to me.”
“Your family,” Bella murmured. “Will this be acceptable to them?”
“Considering they haven’t disowned me already, I doubt being an honest businessman will be too much of a burden for them,” he said wryly. “Since my older brother has his own business ventures, I’m sure he won’t frown upon mine.”
“I’d be very interested to meet your family,” Bella said absently.
“I’m sure they’ll come to our wedding,” he told her, pulling at the blanket. “They’ll want to meet the woman who finally tricked me into matrimony.”
“Tricked—?” Bella demurred. “I haven’t even agreed to your proposal.”
“You will,” he said conceitedly. “Especially since I plan on courting you daily.”
“You do?” she said softly. It was enough to make her loosen her grip on the blanket.
Phillip looked aggrieved, though he somehow managed to take advantage of her momentary lapse of judgment. “You have shockingly little faith in me, sweetheart,” he said, tossing the blanket to the floor. “Of course I plan to court you, you little baggage,” he scolded. “I’ve decided I need to woo you every day of my life to distract you from the fact that I’m a bad bargain.”
“Hmm,” she said, giving only a cursory attempt at stopping him from lifting her soaking chemise. “Now that you mention it, I suppose I am settling for shoddy goods. After all, you’re only shockingly handsome and incredibly charming,” she teased. “Not to mention you have a kind heart and a surprisingly brilliant mind,” she shook her head in mock disgust. “You really do come up lacking.”
Phillip picked her up and tossed her onto the bed, pulling the covers over them both. “I’m no hero, sweetheart,” he said seriously. “I can’t change that.”
“That’s good, because I don’t want a hero,” she reassured him. “I want a pirate.”
“Privateer,” he said stubbornly, nuzzling her neck.
Bella smiled at him. “I want you, Phillip,” she told him. “Though I still expect you to propose properly once we get to London.”
“If I promise to propose properly in London, can I be improper now?” he asked wickedly as his hands wandered over her. “I think we need to warm you up, and I have some idea of how to do that.”
Bella got very warm indeed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Five Days Later
Phillip watched Bella fidget with Charles’s hair, trying to get an errant lock to stay in place. They’d been waiting in the duke’s study for nearly half an hour, as they’d arrived unfashionably early to avoid any complications, and the boy was beginning to get restless. Bella frowned at her nephew as he tried to duck her ministrations, and her cheeks were the most delectable pink.
Phillip smiled, not bothering to hide the fact that he was entirely captivated.
Upon their arrival in London three days ago, they’d been caught up in a whirlwind of preparation for this meeting with the Duke of Pembroke. Phillip had immediately turned Bella over to his sisters’ care, with a promise to wait with their personal business until Charles was situated. Now that the moment was almost upon them, he was getting impatient.
It hadn’t helped that Annabelle and Patricia had interrogated him about his mystery lady every chance they got.
The result had been worth the headache, however. Bella looked stunning in a pale green day gown with a white ribbon tied just under her bosom and running down the front to just above her knee. Her hair was piled in a high chignon, a few tendrils escaping in loose waves at her ears and forehead.
Pembroke’s butler entered and announced the duke’s arrival. Phillip had to shake his head to force himself to concentrate. He rose to his feet and bowed when the duke entered the room.
The Duke of Pembroke was a man of about sixty, though he looked much younger. He was still handsome and regal in his bearing, and Bella’s brow knit in confusion as she studied the man who’d summoned her. His gaze immediately found Charles, and his eyes softened.
Phillip waited until the door had closed and they were all seated before making introductions. “Your Grace,” he said, bowing politely.
The duke glanced at him with clear blue eyes. “Captain Ashford,” he said, nodding his head. His eyes returned to the boy.
“Allow me to introduce Miss Isabella North and her nephew, Charles,” Phillip said quietly.
Bella curtsied deeply, just as Phillip’s sisters had shown her, and Charles made a grand bow. The duke looked at Bella and shook his head. “Forgive me, Miss North,” he said in a gravelly voice. “I mistook you for your sister for a moment.”
“I will take that as a compliment, Your Grace,” she said regally. “My sister is no longer with us, I’m afraid.”
The old man seemed surprised by this revelation. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What happened?”
Bella’s lip quivered only slightly. She cleared her throat and explained, “She died in a fire, Your Grace. In Jamaica.”
“Jamaica?” he asked, confused. “I thought you were living in America. Baltimore or New York.”
“We were,” she answered. “But when my father died...”
The duke’s eyes narrowed. “Your father is also deceased?” he asked.
“He was killed in a robbery,” Bella said. “We left for Jamaica shortly after that.”
“I’m deeply sorry for your losses,” he said sincerely. “I understand how much it hurts to lose loved ones.”
Pembroke was looking at Charles again. “You look so much like your father,” he murmured to the boy, his eyes getting misty. “He had the same lock of hair that always managed to stick up.”
They sat in uncomfortable silence for a long moment. Finally Bella cleared her throat and offered, “I hope your health has improved, Your Grace.”
The old man looked a bit sheepish. “My health is quite well, thank you.”
“I don’t mean to be forward, sir,” Bella said. “But from your letters I was under the impression that you were gravely ill.”
The duke nodded, blushing slightly. “I—” he took a deep breath. “Forgive me, Miss North. I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you. You see, when Michael...”
He drew himself up and said hoarsely. “After my son died, I realized what a fool I’d been in dismissing your sister. She was a lovely young lady, and I should have welcomed her as my daughter-in-law rather than foolishly rebuff her for a simple lack of connections.”
“My pride has caused me greater heartache than I could ever imagine. I—I am ashamed of my actions.” The pain in his blue eyes was almost palpable. Gesturing toward Charles, the old man said, “I wanted to bring you home, my darling boy, to atone for my behavior. Your mother and father loved each other very much, and I’m afraid I didn’t understand that at the time.”
Charles considered his grandfather. Then the boy stood unexpectedly and crossed to the duke. “Auntie Bella told me that my papa loved you too much to leave you,” he said. “And that sometimes we make decisions that accidentally hurt the people we love.”
The duke’s composure broke at that. He dropped to his knees at his grandson’s feet and sobbed. “Will you forgive me?”
Charles looked at the man and patted his back kindly. “We’re family,” he said. “That’s what we do.”
The older man took Charles in a large embrace and murmured promises to him—promises to keep him safe, promises to let him choose his life, promises to raise him the way his parents would have wanted.
“I don’t know if I want to be a duke. Could I maybe be a pirate like Captain Ashford?” Charles asked in true five-year old fashion.
“Privateer,” Phillip said under his breath.
His grandfather grinned at him through his tears. “Yes,” he promised. “Though I do hope you’ll consider dukedom someday.”
“I might,” the boy agreed.
He turned to Bella. “Miss North, I realize my offer comes too late to help Miss Lorelei and Michael, but I would like to recognize Charles as my grandson and heir. Is that acceptable to you?”
Bella inclined her head. “I must warn you, sir, he’s been through so much this last year. I don’t know if he’s ready to meet the demands expected of a duke’s heir.”
The Duke of Pembroke capitulated without brokering an argument. “He will have all the time in the world. I wouldn’t risk hurting him for anything,” he said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
“May I still live with Auntie Bella?” Charles asked warily.
“Of course,” the old man said. “But I’d like to see you often. Every day, if your Aunt will allow it.”
“Charles should know his grandfather,” Bella acknowledged.
“Not to be overly familiar, Your Grace,” Phillip interrupted slowly, “but does Lady Astley know of your desire to recognize Charles?”
The duke bristled slightly. “She does,” he agreed. “It has been a source of contention between us of late.” He narrowed his eyes at Phillip. “Why do you ask, Captain?”
Phillip chose his words very carefully. “I believe that she may know something about the deaths of Charles’s grandfather and mother.”
“What are you suggesting?” he asked sternly.
“The man responsible for Lorelei and Doctor North’s deaths—Mr. Witt—suggested that your daughter-in-law may have, well, paid him in order to keep the boy from becoming your heir.”
The old man looked ready to explode. “Lady Astley and I have had our differences, but I can’t believe she’d be involved in such atrocities. Do you have any idea what such...blasphemy could do to the Pembroke reputation?”
Phillip cleared his throat. “I do, actually. Perhaps we could ask Lady Charlotte?” he suggested. When the duke seemed to waver, Phillip added, “Mr. Witt also admitted that he was hired to kill Miss Isabella. And Charles.”
The duke looked at Charles and paled. He bellowed for a footman and a moment later had dispatched a man to fetch Lady Charlotte Astley. Phillip said grimly, “Your Grace, I have a rather unusual request, but it will rather quickly settle the matter of Lady Charlotte’s innocence. Or guilt. Either way, we can put the matter to rest before the rumors even start.”
Phillip quickly sketched out his idea, while the duke listened carefully. He nodded slowly and said, “I see why you’ve earned a reputation as a gifted strategist, Captain.”
Pembroke marched from his study and down the hall, calling for a footman. They arrived in a small salon with a door that opened to the garden, where the duke ushered Bella and Charles onto a nearby bench, out of sight of the windows. He instructed the footman to open the windows wide and then dismissed the man. Without a word, he strode into the garden and closed the door behind him, leaving Phillip to wait all alone in the salon.
A good time later, Phillip heard the footman call out to someone. “He’s in here, ma’am.”
The door swung open and Lady Charlotte Astley, nee St. Giles, appeared looking as though she had stepped from the pages of La Belle Assemblee. She appeared taken aback by Phillip’s presence, though not unhappily so.
“Mr. Ashford,” she gushed, eyeing him from head to toe. “Or rather, Captain Ashford.”
Phillip grinned his most charming grin and bowed deeply. “Lady Charlotte,” he purred. “You’re even lovelier than I remember.”
