If Not for the Duke, page 7
No purpose would be served in arguing with Marbury or claiming he knew more than previous searchers did. Their results should prove that soon enough. “Hopefully, ours will work better.”
“Good afternoon,” Viscount Dyke, another member of the Society, greeted them before turning to Sterling. “I understand you have a new endeavor, Your Grace.”
“Yes, our efforts are now underway.” Sterling waited, certain the man had something to say about it, or he wouldn’t have raised the topic. As always, his appearance was tidy, with his brown hair neatly combed to one side and his attire simple but impeccable.
“Wagers are being placed by members as to the outcome.” Dyke’s brown eyes twinkled with mirth. “Unfortunately, the odds are not in your favor.”
Wagers? Sterling nearly groaned. “Surely the members have something more important to keep their attention than another dig in Nova Scotia.”
Dyke chuckled as he shared a look with Marbury. “Everyone is following your project closely. When will you have more news?”
“Difficult to say.” Sterling didn’t intend to share anything about Clarke’s possible reply. Not when doing so would stir interest even more.
The viscount stepped closer. “Care to share your thoughts on the dig? I wouldn’t want to place the wrong wager. Do you expect results before year’s end?”
“I have no intention of sharing any details with you or anyone else, and I don’t appreciate you asking.” Sterling kept his tone haughty, anger filling him once again that Clarke had placed him in this position. To learn the members were betting on the outcome annoyed him even more. “Surely you have something better with which to fill your time.”
“My apologies, Your Grace.” Dyke dipped his head and then moved on to speak with someone else, leaving Sterling alone with Marbury again.
Sterling was relieved when Marbury didn’t remark on his retort. Perhaps Lena’s name for him was more correct than he realized.
“I hope Miss Wright’s upset with my sister and me has eased,” Sterling said, wondering if the earl would share how Lena was feeling about the situation. He’d sent flowers, signing the card with both his and Bernie’s names, not wanting Lena to get the wrong impression. After all, he wanted her forgiveness, but he wasn’t courting her.
He didn’t want Lena to remain upset with his sister. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. Whether she was still angry with him didn’t—shouldn’t—matter. Yet it surprised him that it did, an unusual occurrence since he never cared what others thought. Certainly not women, other than Bernie.
Lena was on his mind far too often. Surely once he resolved the situation and she and Bernie were on good terms again, he could put her from his thoughts.
“I’m not sure I would say that.” Marbury shook his head. “She seems to be under the impression that your sister only pretended to befriend her to learn more about Oak Island.”
“Nothing of the sort. Bernie is beside herself with that worry. Do you have any suggestions as to how I could convince Miss Wright that isn’t the case?”
“Lena is slow to trust others and not easily swayed. You’ll have to prove it to her. Not so different than you, actually.” Marbury grinned. “All I can say is good luck, Your Grumpiness.”
Sterling scowled. He was beginning to detest the nickname. Being known as stern had never bothered him before, but having Lena think of him as such was upsetting. The temptation to try to change surprised him. Convincing her to change her poor opinion of him was a challenge he couldn’t ignore.
*
Lena tapped her toe in time to the music at the Bancroft ball the next evening, having already danced several times. Her mood was slowly improving after the unsettling news about Renwick’s treasure hunt, though hurt lingered, causing her to briefly press her gloved fingers against her chest. The beautiful bouquet from the duke and his sister had been a surprise, though she still had to decide if she was willing to truly forgive or trust them.
Norah was not. Even now, she stood nearby, visiting with Lady Havenby, a family friend. From the bits of conversation Lena could overhear, the topic was the treasure hunt and how displeased Norah was about it.
Ella and Marbury had remained home this evening so Ella could rest. Per her message, the baby was interrupting her sleep schedule before it had even arrived.
Lena glanced at Norah, certain her sister wouldn’t be happy until Clarke and Renwick admitted defeat and quit the island. Norah seemed adamant about it.
Lena had mixed feelings. She rather liked the idea of someone continuing to search for treasure. It meant their father’s work hadn’t been in vain. That he had been right to dig for so many years since others suspected what he had—that a significant treasure was buried on the island.
She just didn’t want them to find it too quickly.
As for Lady Bernice, Lena supposed she had mostly forgiven her, though she would guard what she said from now on. It wasn’t as if the lady had acted with malicious intent. Instead, the issue was trust. That was something Lena understood since she was slow to trust others as well. Her gift demanded she keep people at a distance. She never knew when it would surface or how others would react if they discovered it. Her life might be lonely, but it was safer this way.
The other complication was that Lena wanted a look at the rest of the letters the lady had. She’d been through the first set several times and found a few passages that might have a hidden meaning. With more information, she might be able to determine if that was true, and if so, what the letters truly said.
Vanbridge had offered to have a look since he was considered an expert at finding patterns and deciphering the meaning of carvings. But Lena still wanted to try on her own first. The quest had become personal. Her father’s reputation was at stake.
Lena wrinkled her nose at the worry that she could be using Lady Bernice just as much as the lady had been using her. She brushed aside the concern, reminding herself that she had several things in common with Lady Beatrice and had been beginning to like her before the news story had appeared.
Marbury had mentioned a Professor Lindquist whom he’d come across while searching for their father’s stolen journal. The professor had letters from sailors similar to the ones Lady Beatrice had found that he’d compiled, along with a ship’s log.
Lena was intrigued and asked if Marbury could arrange a visit with the man soon to see if he knew anything that might help provide additional information on the possible location of buried treasure on Oak Island.
She was relieved to see Vanbridge approaching. Norah sorely needed a distraction. Though her brother-in-law didn’t care for balls or people in general, he frequently made exceptions for Norah’s sake. A dance with her husband was just what her sister needed to take her mind off the renewed treasure hunt.
Norah halted mid-sentence, and her expression immediately softened at the sight of her handsome husband with his slim build, dark, wavy hair, and green eyes. He greeted Lady Havenby warmly, smiled at Lena, and after a brief conversation, escorted his wife to the dance floor. The love and admiration they felt for each other was palpable.
Lena sighed, unable to suppress the longing that filled her as she watched them. She adored both of her sisters’ husbands, but the couples’ closeness made her feel a little lonely at times.
“Good evening, Miss Wright.”
The deep voice had her turning even as a shiver ran along her skin. She dipped into a curtsy at the sight of Renwick standing before her, attractive in his formal evening attire. The waves of his honey-colored blond hair were smoothed down, making him look even more austere than usual. And of course, no smile eased his somber expression. “Your Grace.”
To her surprise, a trace of amusement curved his lips. The sight had her catching her breath. If only he’d smile. Then again, perhaps it was a good thing he didn’t since even the suggestion of one made her heartbeat speed.
“Don’t you mean, Your Grumpiness?”
She gasped, uncertain what to say even as heat filled her cheeks. Should she apologize? Pretend she didn’t know what he meant? She didn’t believe he was truly offended but didn’t want him to think she was being disrespectful. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry I heard it?” His brown eyes warmed as they held on her.
“Definitely,” she muttered, fairly certain Marbury was to blame.
Renwick chuckled, and she could only stare in wonder at the sight of his face transformed. The stern lines eased into something approachable and oh, so handsome. Breathtakingly so. My goodness. If he did that on a regular basis, he’d have an even longer line of ladies following him. Even now, several women edged closer, as if hoping to catch his notice.
“Apology accepted. That is, if you’ll honor me with a dance.” He offered his hand.
With a glance at a thrilled Lady Havenby, who positively beamed with delight, Lena placed her hand in his, all too aware of the attention they were receiving.
Renwick rarely attended balls and never danced when he did. Which brought to mind the question of why he was there. And why he’d chosen to dance with her.
“Thank you.” Her stomach fluttered as he escorted her to the dance floor. It was only because of the people watching them, she told herself. Somehow, that didn’t ring true. “Is Lady Bernice here?”
“She is coming with our Aunt Edith shortly. I have no doubt she hopes to speak with you.” He glanced at her as they waited for the other couples to clear the floor from the dance that had just ended. “Have you decided?”
“Decided what?”
“Whether you’re willing to forgive us?”
She knew she should say yes to be polite. But she didn’t know if she had. She couldn’t lie when that was the very reason she wasn’t happy with them. “For the most part.”
His gaze narrowed as he continued to watch her.
“What is it?” she asked at length, aware of the warmth of him where her hand was tucked against his side.
“I suppose I find your honesty refreshing.”
She had to laugh. “Ella wouldn’t agree.” How many times had her eldest sister told her that decorum was more important than honesty in social situations? “You don’t sound certain.”
“I am.” He nodded. “Few people speak their minds these days. Especially to me.”
“No doubt they prefer to agree with whatever you say to stay in your good graces. That is a safer way to converse with you.”
“Safe can be tiring.” He drew her onto the dance floor, ignoring the looks sent their way, his focus solely on her.
The realization only made the flutters in her stomach stronger. She felt breathless and off balance and struggled for something to say before he noticed how oddly she was acting.
“Do you speak from experience? Do you always live life safely?” she asked. She had tended to think of dukes as men near her grandfather’s age until the past few days. Curiosity took hold when she considered what it must have been like to grow up under the scrutiny a duke must receive.
“I suppose you could say that. My father didn’t appreciate any opinions different from his own. Rebellion wasn’t an option.”
Her sympathy tugged, for she thought there was more to the story than he was saying. “He sounds like a difficult man.”
“A demanding one, for certain. He focused on duty and responsibility above all else.”
“That must’ve made for a challenging childhood.” One look at Renwick’s expression suggested the topic—or perhaps it was the memories—wasn’t welcome. She couldn’t help but add, “My father had a singular focus as well. I rarely appreciated it.”
Renwick didn’t respond, and she wondered if he’d even been listening.
The dance began, making conversation difficult. Rather than trying to talk, Lena focused on the dance. Renwick was an excellent partner, if somewhat stiff. Was that because he didn’t enjoy dancing or because he was uncomfortable for some other reason?
He was tall, and though she was as well, the top of her head just reached his chin. As they turned, she caught his scent. The subtle cologne swirled around her, tugging at her senses.
Heat filled her, and not only because of the movements of the dance. The colors of the ladies’ gowns swirled around her as they turned. Was it her imagination or was he holding her closer? So close that their bodies brushed against each other.
As she met his gaze, all else fell away. She didn’t pretend to understand her attraction to this man when she wasn’t even sure if she liked him. He was interesting and a bit of a puzzle. Perhaps that was part of the reason he intrigued her. She’d always enjoyed puzzles.
At last, the music swelled, then ended. How she wished it had lasted a little bit longer. A ridiculous thought when she had no intention of allowing her interest in Renwick to grow. She curtsied while he bowed, which gave her a moment to collect her thoughts.
“Have you received word from Clarke?” she asked, though it seemed unlikely he would tell her if he had.
“Not as of yet.” His brow furrowed, making her think he might be concerned about it. He offered his arm, and they slowly made their way toward Lady Havenby. “I find it interesting that our fathers were more than likely very different men but had such a singular focus in common.”
Lena looked at him in surprise. She hadn’t even been sure he’d heard her earlier. “While the trait helps to make strides toward a goal, its narrowness often keeps others out.”
“I like to think I have a broader outlook.” His gaze settled on something in the distance.
Lena followed his gaze to see Lady Bernice across the room. His regard for his sister was commendable. The problem was that it wasn’t the only thing she admired about the duke.
“Would you accompany me to greet my sister?”
“Of course.” Lena wanted the chance to ask if she could see the other letters, despite the guilt that once again threatened.
They made their way across the room until they’d nearly reached Lady Bernice and Mrs. Easton.
“I do wish you wouldn’t insist on wearing those,” Mrs. Easton whispered with a glare at her charge’s spectacles, seemingly unaware of their arrival.
“I don’t care if I appear unattractive.” Lady Bernice responded with a defiant lift of her chin. “I would rather see.”
“I’m pleased you wore them,” Renwick said as they joined them.
“I think you look nice in them,” Lena added as she studied her. The small spectacles with their gold rims weren’t that noticeable and lent her an intelligent air.
Lady Bernice adjusted them, clearly self-conscious. “Thank you. I find it terribly disconcerting not to be able to see what everyone else does.”
“Social events are awkward enough without being at a disadvantage,” Lena said, ignoring the displeased look Mrs. Easton gave her.
After the near miss with the fountain when she’d first met Lady Bernice, she was surprised Mrs. Easton still disapproved of the spectacles.
“If a potential suitor turns away because of them, I am not to be blamed,” the older woman said with a disapproving sniff.
“Duly noted.” Renwick shared an approving look with Lena, the moment of connection causing her to draw a slow breath.
Her world tilted as she held his warm gaze. The light of interest in his brown eyes made her stomach dance. The urge to turn away nearly overwhelmed her. There was no need for such an extreme reaction. Renwick wasn’t interested in her in a romantic way. Nor was she interested in him.
The connection had lasted only a moment. Much like the flash of a falling star in the night sky. Over and done before one was even certain what had been seen.
Even if she became close friends with Lady Bernice, that didn’t mean she’d have further interactions with Renwick. His suspicious nature and lack of trust in others made him far too prickly as far as she was concerned.
Lena could imagine too well his reaction if he ever discovered her secret. All secrets had a cost. The thought was enough to cause her to shiver.
She forced herself to smile at Lady Bernice. “Thank you for allowing me to read the letters. They were certainly interesting.”
The lady’s eyes lit with pleasure. “I’m pleased you thought so. Why don’t I send the remaining letters over so you can read those as well? Then perhaps we can discuss them and compare ideas.”
Lena’s pulse jumped. “I’d like that.” Whether it was her sense of knowing or simply hope, she was certain the other letters contained helpful information about the possible treasure.
“Who knows what the two of you might find?” Renwick asked.
She didn’t know what she’d do if they did. She couldn’t imagine handing any discoveries over to Renwick so Clarke could take the credit. While she didn’t know why she was so determined to find out more, she couldn’t let this rest until she did.
Chapter Seven
Two days later, Lena settled in the drawing room at her desk to read the additional letters Lady Bernice had sent over. Then she read them again, only to sit back in the chair with a sigh of impatience. Why was nothing ever as easy as she wished it to be?
Her gaze shifted to the beautiful bouquet sitting on a nearby table as she pondered the additional odd lines the privateer had written. The flowers were still lovely despite the days that had passed since their arrival. Yet looking at them frustrated her as the bright blooms brought Renwick to the forefront of her thoughts. As if she needed a reminder of the man. He was already in her mind far too often.
The dance they’d shared at the ball had stolen into her dreams. They’d been waltzing alone in a ballroom, spinning as they danced, only a breath apart. The lilting music filled her entire being—until passion grew and took its place. Sterling had held her so close. So gently.
Then he’d smiled.
Ha! As if that would ever happen. She dismissed the image with a sweep of her hand through the air. If only she could so easily dispel it from her thoughts. She didn’t understand why she’d dreamed of him when she’d danced often without that ever happening.
