If Not for the Duke, page 3
“A great aunt of ours died a spinster,” Lady Bernice continued. “Little did the family know that was because her heart belonged to a privateer.” She sighed, her expression making it clear how romantic she thought the story.
“The letters mention Oak Island?” Lena wanted her to get on with the story. If she’d discovered any details that revealed the exact location of the pit or specific instructions about how to excavate the treasure, that would be remarkable.
“Yes. They’re a delight to read.”
“What do they say?” Lena knew her tone was short, but she was beyond anxious to know what the lady had found.
“Well, nothing specific. Not yet anyway. After all, they’re love letters. I have more of them to read. Just a few at Christmas, and I’ve started reading them again since my return a few weeks ago.”
Lena released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. For a moment, she’d thought Lady Bernice had stumbled upon the secret her father had looked so hard for—the location of the Money Pit.
“Bernie, you’re not going on about those letters again, are you?” The deep, masculine tone had Lena rising to her feet as the Duke of Renwick entered the room.
Her body flushed at the sight of his tall, imposing form, especially when those cool brown eyes that seemed to see everything caught on her. What was it about this man that caused her to feel so unsettled?
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” She curtsied, willing away the uncomfortable feeling. He was only a man. Yet her heartbeat quickened along with her breath. If only she could determine the cause.
*
“Good afternoon.” Sterling dipped his head, still uncertain why he’d felt compelled to join Bernie and her guest. He told himself it was because he was protective of his sister.
But that wasn’t the only reason.
Lena Wright intrigued him. He had the distinct impression she wasn’t awed by his title, not that he cared if anyone was. Perhaps it was because she was the granddaughter of a duke or hadn’t been raised in England where nobility seemed to carry more weight.
Miss Wright’s lavender silk gown was simple but elegant, allowing her natural beauty and grace to shine. So many of the ladies in the ton used every possible weapon in their arsenal to make themselves stand out. Miss Wright didn’t seem to be trying to do any of that.
He wondered why, when most women considered the need to marry well their singular purpose in life and used every arrow in their quiver to take aim at their quarry.
That didn’t mean Sterling enjoyed being their target as he so often was.
“Are you regaling Miss Wright about your discoveries?” he asked. He gestured for her to sit, but he remained standing, undecided whether to stay.
“She asked what I had found,” Bernie began, her cheeks coloring slightly at his teasing.
“Do not feel you have to feign interest,” he told their guest with an indulgent smile at Bernie.
“I am truly curious, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.” The chilly look Miss Wright gave him suggested she didn’t appreciate his remark.
Then she looked at Bernie with concern as if worried whether her feelings had been hurt. The realization had him further reconsidering his opinion of Lena Wright.
He tended to assume that anyone who spent time with his somewhat awkward sister had an ulterior motive. He’d experienced it far too often in the past, from mothers who’d wanted their daughters to befriend Bernie when she was younger to ladies attempting to catch his notice in the past few years. Luckily, he’d become adept at seeing through their ruses.
Miss Wright looked back at him, then lifted a brow as if to suggest he should reconsider before further teasing Bernie.
Bernie smiled, seemingly unaware of the silent communication he and Miss Wright were having. “I do believe some of the letters were written to hide the true meaning of what was being said.”
“They’re in code?” Miss Wright asked with astonishment.
“Not exactly.” Bernie tapped a finger on her chin, her eyes narrowing. “However, I can’t help but think a hidden message is included in some of the passages.”
“How interesting. Are you familiar with the story of Captain Kidd possibly burying treasure on the island prior to his death?” Miss Wright posed the question in a gentle tone.
“Only what I learned during my visit to the museum when I viewed your father’s exhibit. I hope to find a book on the topic to explain more but have yet to locate one.”
“I’d be happy to share some of what my father thought. Though of course, there are other theories as to who might have buried treasure on the island.”
Bernie bit her lip then sent her brother a worried look, suggesting she didn’t think he’d like what she was about to say. That look was practically a guarantee he wouldn’t. He held back the urge to shake his head to keep her from saying more. He wouldn’t always be there to guide her, and she needed to become more adept at sensing what she should and shouldn’t say to others.
“Such as treasure from the Knights Templar?” Bernie asked.
He nearly groaned. How could she speak of that theory when it seemed so unlikely?
Lena smiled, causing Sterling to catch his breath. It lit her blue eyes and made her look even more beautiful. “Yes. Among others.”
Bernie’s eyes rounded with excitement. “Others?”
Sterling decided they had forgotten his presence for the moment. Rather bemused, he sank into the chair he had stood behind, interested in whatever Miss Wright shared.
“One story suggests the French hid gold there. Another insists it was the Spanish.”
“I had no idea there were so many.” Bernie leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Miss Wright.
Sterling smothered a smile. Her enthusiasm knew no bounds when it came to the supposed treasure on Oak Island. Would she tell their guest that they had begun a search of their own?
“What did your father believe?” Bernie asked.
A shadow passed over Miss Wright’s face, a vivid reminder that he had died searching for the treasure. It had only been a few years ago, and she and her sisters surely still grieved his loss. Especially when it was clear she’d loved him.
The thought had Sterling shifting in his chair. Love was not a word he associated with his own father. Duty. Respect, if begrudging. But not love. Such emotions made one weak, or so their father often told them. And Renwicks were never weak.
Sterling wondered if their father had felt any sort of tenderness toward them. He had certainly never shown it.
“My father,” Miss Wright finally began, “thought Captain Kidd was the most likely one to have buried treasure there.” She told them how the privateer had taken a ship loaded with riches only to be accused of piracy. He’d hidden the treasure in case he needed to use it to barter his freedom.
“That didn’t work well,” Sterling remarked.
Those blue eyes shifted to his in surprise as if she had forgotten he was sitting nearby. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
“No, it didn’t,” Miss Wright agreed. “He was found guilty and hanged soon after. But what he said before his death has people dreaming about finding riches to this day. He insisted there was another, larger treasure. If the authorities would allow him, he would show them where he’d hidden it.”
“And?” Bernie asked.
“They chose not to believe him. However, my father said that if one considered the various amounts Kidd took while acting as a privateer, which is documented, a massive amount remains unaccounted for.”
“Fascinating.” Bernie shared a look with Sterling, making him wonder at her thoughts. Did the information make her even more hopeful there was treasure to be found on the island?
“There is also the story of strange lights said to appear on the island.” Miss Wright smiled, seeming to dare them to question the story.
“Oh, yes. That is supposedly what drew the original searcher to the island, wasn’t it?” Bernie asked.
Miss Wright nodded. “In 1795, a young man of sixteen years, who lived on a nearby island with his parents, swore he saw lights on Oak Island one night. He convinced two friends to join him to row across to the island to see what caused them. They found a strange depression in the ground and carvings on a nearby tree. Some accounts state they also discovered a block and tackle hanging on one of its branches. Would that have been enough to convince you to dig?”
Bernie considered the question as if she thought Miss Wright expected her to follow through on her answer. “I would certainly be curious. Curious enough to investigate.”
Suddenly, Miss Wright’s focus shifted to Sterling, causing his pulse to leap. “What of you, Your Grace? Would you have dug?”
To Sterling’s surprise, he found himself nodding. “What young lad doesn’t dream of finding buried treasure?”
“Truly, Sterling?” Bernie asked, obviously surprised.
“Of course.” Not that he would’ve been allowed to pursue such a nonsensical dream. “Those few clues would be enough to make one wonder.”
“My father would’ve agreed.” Miss Wright’s smile faded. “Though there were days when he swore he wouldn’t dig come the spring, he always did.”
“From the details in the museum exhibit, he only found a few items,” Bernie said.
“Enough to convince him something happened on the island. Wooden timbers aren’t found ninety feet below ground unless someone put them there.”
“And no one would put them so deep without a reason,” Sterling added.
“Exactly. But the work is difficult and dangerous.”
“As is most treasure hunting.” Sterling had heard enough lectures at the Royal Geological Society meetings to know that.
“Not all digs include traps to prevent searchers from finding what they seek.”
“That certainly adds another layer of difficulty.” Sterling had considered the risks before buying the land, and he had set a limit to how much he was willing to spend. After all, the treasure hunt was more of a lark to please Bernie than an investment. She’d had few pleasures in her life and asked for nothing. It seemed the least he could do.
He hadn’t announced that he was the one who owned the newly formed Oak Island Company. Not even his fellow members of the Society knew. Soon, perhaps.
First, he wanted the dig to be well underway.
The man he’d hired to manage the search, Walter Clarke, was a seasoned treasure hunter with several successful missions to his credit. Whether he’d manage to find anything when David Wright hadn’t remained to be seen. However, Sterling was convinced that new technology would yield results of some sort. He also had more funds at his disposal than Wright had.
How would the lovely Miss Wright react when she learned the news? Would she sever her budding friendship with Bernie?
“Could I see the letters?” Miss Wright asked.
“Of course.” Bernie popped up as if on a spring. “I’ll return with them directly.”
Sterling watched her hurry from the room. “Forgive my sister’s enthusiasm. You are the first person other than me to express interest in the topic.”
He watched Miss Wright’s gaze shift toward where Aunt Edith had sat, but she had left soon after he arrived. “My aunt doesn’t approve of Bernie’s interest in Oak Island. She doesn’t think it’s ladylike.”
He rose and joined Miss Wright on the settee, noting the slight widening of her eyes at his nearness. But he didn’t want Bernie to hear when he made it clear that neither he nor his sister were to be toyed with. “Are you truly interested in seeing the letters, or was that a ploy to have a moment alone with me?”
Her mouth gaped at his question, her shock clear. “You cannot be serious.” She jerked to her feet, so he stood as well. “Why on earth would I want to be alone with you?”
He took a step closer, though her reaction seemed to confirm she wasn’t trying to catch his attention. Or if she was, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. There had been no blatant flattery. No fluttering of lashes or attempt at shyness.
In place of any of that was outrage. The emotion lit her eyes and tinted her cheeks a lovely pink. Her chest heaved with pent-up anger. All of that was incredibly appealing.
“Thus far,” he began, watching Miss Wright intently, “the ladies who profess to like Bernie have one thing on their mind.”
“Marrying a duke?” Miss Wright’s chin lifted. “You have no cause to believe that of me.”
“Perhaps not. But past experiences suggest that is the reason you’re here.” He drew closer still, noting the quickening of his own senses at their proximity with surprise. He dismissed the reaction. Surely it was only a result of the game he played.
“I can assure you that is not my purpose.” She took a step nearer and glared at him with defiance shining in her eyes.
Damn if he didn’t find that incredibly appealing. He dropped his gaze to her mouth, only to realize his mistake. Her rosy, full lips begged to be kissed. Desire sprang forth, much like a fountain gurgling to life.
Unable to resist, he leaned close to test them both. The gurgle became a gusher, surprising him with its strength.
“Here they are,” Bernie declared from the doorway.
Sterling stepped back and blew out a breath, whether in relief or disappointment, he couldn’t say. But one thing he did know—he intended to kiss Miss Wright if given the chance. She was too tempting to resist.
Chapter Three
Lena scowled as she marched into Norah’s drawing room the following morning. The close encounter with His Grumpiness had made her prone to muttering to herself about the impossible man ever since.
What had he been thinking? Had he been taunting her? Pushing to see what she’d do? Was he attempting to convince her to abandon her acquaintance with Lady Bernice?
“What has you in such a stir?” Norah asked from where she sat at her desk.
Sunlight streamed in from the nearby window, creating a warm golden glow in the room. Norah had added a few feminine touches to the townhouse where she and Vanbridge lived, subtle accents that made it a welcoming, restful place. It was one more reason the two were perfect for one another, each complementing the other, much like Ella and Marbury. Norah brought Vanbridge out of his lair on occasion, and he gave her a reason to enjoy the quiet of home.
“His Grumpiness.” Lena knew she’d feel better as soon as she could express her upset. The one disadvantage to living with her grandfather was that she couldn’t talk to him about things like this. Only one of her sisters would do.
Since Norah already knew part of the story, Lena had chosen her to share her woes.
“Renwick? Do tell.” Norah set aside her pen and paper and stood, gesturing toward the settee, her eyes glittering with interest.
Lena joined her. “Where’s your handsome husband this morning?”
“In his study. A new stone carving arrived that he’s anxious to examine.”
“How exciting.” Lena admired her brother-in-law’s interest in carvings and his ability to decipher them. But she knew he put Norah ahead of both his interest in history and his museum. That was something she admired even more.
“Yes, it is.” Norah smiled with affection. “I can’t wait to hear what he discovers. Now tell me what happened with Renwick.”
“I had tea with his sister yesterday.”
“And His Grace was there?”
“For part of it.”
Norah lifted a brow, clearly eager to hear the part that had upset her.
“First of all, Lady Bernice found some old letters from a privateer who visited Oak Island.”
“How did she come upon those?”
“It seems the man was romantically involved with her great-aunt and wrote to her on several occasions. Lady Bernice found them in an old trunk in the attic.”
“Interesting. What are the chances of that?”
“I thought the same.”
“What do the letters say?” Norah asked.
“Nothing specific, according to Lady Bernice, though I intend to read them closely.”
“You have them?”
“Yes.”
Norah’s eyes widened with excitement. “Tell me you brought them.”
“Well, no.” Lena blinked, realizing her error. “I didn’t think to.” That showed just how upset she was about the moment with Renwick.
Norah scowled. “I assume you will rectify that as quickly as possible.”
“Certainly. But back to the issue I came to discuss.”
“Right. His Grumpiness.” Norah stilled. “You weren’t alone with him, were you?” She looked appalled at the thought, which was ironic when Lena knew for a fact that Norah had been alone with Vanbridge numerous times prior to their betrothal.
“Lady Bernice and their aunt were there. But both stepped out of the room for a moment. During which Renwick practically accused me of befriending his sister to get close to him.”
“The nerve.” Her sister’s indignation on her behalf was quite satisfying.
“Can you believe it? The arrogance of the man.” Fresh outrage filled Lena as the memory played through her mind again.
For one breathless moment, she’d thought he intended to kiss her. That moment had filled her with longing, much to her dismay.
Was her outrage because he hadn’t kissed her? Surely not.
She couldn’t bring herself to share the full details with Norah. Not when her sister might realize just how affected she’d been. He’d stood so close that she could see the various shades of brown in his wonderful eyes.
Then there was his cologne, an appealing scent that brought to mind walking in the forest on a rainy day. The thought of it was enough to make her knees weak.
When his gaze had dropped to her lips, it had taken all her will to avoid licking them in preparation for a kiss. How ridiculous was that? She wasn’t even sure if she liked Renwick.
Not that she would be opposed to kissing him.
