Heart's Debt (Lost Lords Book 5) Page 13

  But he was so fond of Michael and owed him so much—his very life it seemed. He couldn’t bear to disappoint him.

  “I will be the one who comes back,” he vowed. “I swear it.”

  “You know how to find me when you do.”

  “Yes.”

  “If it takes ten years, if it takes twenty, I’ll be watching for you.”

  “It will be my motivation for staying alive.”

  Michael stepped nearer and leaned in to whisper in Damian’s ear. “This will help you to pay your way.”

  Michael slipped a bag of coins into Damian’s shirt. He’d already provided a satchel with a coat, blankets, and other supplies. Yet in a place where bribery was common, hard coins were the best protection in any situation.

  “Thank you,” Damian said. “For everything.”

  “Be careful with it,” Michael warned. “If anyone noticed me giving it to you, there’s no telling what could happen. You’re surrounded by criminals.”

  Damian smiled. “And I’m the worst of the lot.”

  “Ha! You were trained by the master.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  They stared then, and the moment became awkward. Damian actually wondered if he might burst into tears, but Michael saved him by patting him on the shoulder.

  “I’ll see you again,” Michael said. “In London. Someday I’ll turn around, and you’ll be standing there with that stupid grin on your face.”

  “I will, Michael. Just for you.”

  “I’m counting on it, Damian.”

  With that, he spun and walked to the rail. He gave a jaunty salute, then clambered over and climbed down the rope ladder to the longboat that had brought him out to the ship.

  Damian had been pretending to be very brave. The passengers were a mix of boys and men. While most of the boys had been swept up for penury, some of the men were truly dangerous. He didn’t want to be left alone with them, didn’t want to sail off to the other side of the Earth where he’d constantly be afraid to fall asleep for fear his throat would be slit while he slumbered.

  Michael had been a father figure to Damian or perhaps like a cherished older brother. He yearned to run to the rail, to weep and call to him not to leave, to take Damian with him.

  But he would never act like such a child, and he didn’t dare show such juvenile weakness. He sauntered over, and Michael nodded and waved once. Damian did the same, then Michael whipped away, and the sailors in the longboat began to row. Damian stood like a statue, quiet and perceptive and deadly, watching Michael grow smaller and smaller until he was a dot on the bank.

  Then he yanked away and went to find Kit.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  You won’t believe what just happened to me.”

  “It can’t be worse than what just happened to me.”

  Sophia gazed at Georgina across the scratched dining room table in the estate agent’s cottage. Augusta was upstairs in bed with a sick headache. Miles had slithered off to parts unknown, and she and Georgina were alone.

  Initially, when they’d moved in, a few maids had come by to sweep and dust the main parlor and the bedrooms, but that was the extent of their orders, and they’d left once they were finished. Georgina had gotten the wild idea that she could clean up a bit to make the place more habitable.

  She’d yanked down the tattered drapes, and when Sophia had entered, she’d been washing the windows. She’d invited Sophia to help, but Sophia never would.

  Georgina was thrifty and diligent, and Sophia couldn’t figure out how her cousin mustered such energy and drive. She couldn’t bear to be idle and liked to work, especially at menial chores, but in Sophia’s opinion, there was a reason servants were invented. The fact that she currently had no servants was irrelevant. She wouldn’t lower herself like Georgina.

  “You first,” Georgina said. “How did it go with Harold and his mother?”

  “They were…concerned.”

  Before she’d arrived, gossip had already filtered over to their house so they’d been aware that trouble had occurred at Kirkwood. They’d stoically sat through Sophia’s horror story, but when she’d invited his mother to call on hers, to commiserate and offer advice, the woman had suddenly remembered she had an appointment.

  “Concerned?” Georgina asked. “Is that the best they could do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Had they any suggestions for us?”

  “No, but Harold will write some letters.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  Georgina sighed. “It’s something I guess.”

  “But that’s not what I want to talk about.” She leaned forward and murmured, “Have you met Mr. Drummond’s friend, Mr. Roxbury?”

  “Yes, I’ve met him.”

  “He accosted me in the woods.”

  Georgina gasped. “Are you all right? He didn’t…press his attentions on you.”

  “No. He was merely waiting to speak to me.”

  She wasn’t about to mention the kiss Mr. Roxbury had bestowed. She was still stunned by it, but she’d been intrigued too. Intrigued that he’d dared. Intrigued that he’d forged ahead without dithering. Intrigued that he hadn’t asked her permission. For a girl who’d been betrothed to dull, boring Harold for years, it had been astonishing male behavior.

  Mr. Roxbury had brazenly taken what he desired, and she secretly hoped he’d try it again at the earliest opportunity. But when she was bound to Harold, she could hardly admit it.

  “You’re blushing to high heaven,” Georgina said. “It must have been more than his waiting for you to pass by.”

  Sophia whispered, “He asked me to be his…his… mistress!”

  “His mistress!”

  “Yes.”

  “The gall of the man.”

  “I was very shocked.”

  “You slapped him?”

  “No, but I certainly gave him a dressing down.”

  “What was his reply?”

  “He laughed at me.”

  “Vain beast,” Georgina grumbled.

  “He insists Harold will break our engagement.”

  “Does he read tea leaves? Does he imagine himself a clairvoyant?”

  “No, he simply said he’s an excellent judge of character.”

  “What about Harold? Were there any indications he might cry off?”

  “No. If he was upset at all, it was over Mr. Drummond’s conduct. We have his undying support.”

  “Well then…good.”

  “Mr. Roxbury claims he’ll jilt me, and as soon as I’m free, I should ally myself with him.”

  “What was the basis of his salacious proposal?”

  “I’m about out of options, and when Mr. Drummond evicts me, I’ll be so desperate that I’ll do anything to remain here.”

  “Even disgrace yourself with Mr. Roxbury?”

  “That’s what he thinks.”

  “You told him to stuff it, right?”

  “Yes, definitely,” Sophia huffed, but deep inside, she was wondering what it would be like to act so outrageously. What if she consented?

  “Will he heed you and cease his pestering?”

  “I’m sure he will. I was very firm.”

  Except she was astounded to find herself tantalized by the notion that he looked at her and assumed she could provide illicit succor that would please him. How could that be? When she had no idea what was required, how could he predict that she’d be adept at it?

  She bit down a smile, not eager to have Georgina realize how much she’d enjoyed her little flirtation. Mr. Roxbury might be annoyingly forward and proud, but at least he noticed her. At least he went out of his way to put himself in her path. He’d ignited her feminine sensibilities, and she wouldn’t discount such a marvelous gift.

  “What about you?” she asked Georgina. “You said I wouldn’t believe what happened to you either.”

  “I had much the same experience.”

  Her heart sank. Could it be? And she’d t
hought she was so special! “Mr. Roxbury propositioned you too?”

  “No, Mr. Drummond.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “He and Mr. Roxbury must have rehearsed their lines together. I can remain at Kirkwood if I become his paramour.”

  “What a pair of despicable scoundrels.”

  “I’m embarrassed to the core of my being.”

  Sophia hadn’t been embarrassed by Mr. Roxbury’s advance, but she’d never say so aloud. “What did you tell him?”

  “That I couldn’t. Not even to save my family, and anyway I don’t expect it would help. He’s so angry with Miles, and I don’t trust him to keep his word. Even if I ruined myself—which I would never do—he would very likely renege on any bargain. Then where would I be?”

  “I agree. We shouldn’t trust him.”

  “No, we don’t dare.”

  Just then, Miles blustered in. He was shouting for Augusta, but she was upstairs in her moldy, grimy bedchamber struggling to recover from the humiliation of her conversation with Portia.

  Sophia called down the hall, “Miles! We’re in the dining room.”

  Shortly he entered, and his cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright, as if he’d been running. “I have great news.”

  “What is it?” Sophia asked as they seated themselves at the table with Georgina.

  “Mr. Drummond and I will play cards again.”

  Georgina scowled. “Play…cards? What do you mean?”

  “I told him he had to provide me with a chance to retrieve Kirkwood from him, and he said I could try.”

  “You’ll gamble with him?”

  “Yes. Later tonight.”

  “Over the estate?”

  “Yes. At first, he was reluctant to face me, but I wore him down.”

  “But to gamble, Miles,” Georgina protested. “Should you?”

  “Of course I should.” He patted Georgina’s hand. “Don’t look so glum, Georgie. I’m excited, and you should be too.”

  Georgina gazed at Sophia, her expression tense, as if Sophia should offer a pertinent comment. Sophia couldn’t guess what it would be, but felt she should get to the bottom of his reasoning.

  “If you win,” she said, “what would happen? Kirkwood would be returned to you?”

  “Yes. It would be as if the entire foreclosure never occurred.”

  “We wouldn’t have to leave?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, Miles, that is great news,” Sophia gushed.

  Georgina scowled even harder. “What if you lose, Miles?”

  “How could I? I’ve been on a winning streak for weeks. I’ll have this mess fixed in a few hours.”

  “Fine, Miles, you’re on a winning streak, but humor me for a moment.” Georgina was always a spoilsport. “What if you lose?”

  “How can it matter?” he airily retorted. “It’s not as if he can take anything else from me. He already owns it all so I don’t have a single item to relinquish. There’s only benefit and no detriment.”

  Georgina couldn’t let it go. “Mr. Drummond seems rather obsessed with harming you. Surely he wouldn’t gamble when there are no stakes on your end.”

  “Then he’ll likely demand I give him one of you ladies to serve as his paramour.”

  Sophia and Georgina stiffened with affront.

  “You’re not serious, Miles,” Sophia scolded. “You wouldn’t wager over us. Swear that you won’t.”

  “No, I won’t.” He laughed as if it was all a big joke.

  “Besides,” Sophia said, “Mr. Drummond already proposed that very arrangement to Georgina.”

  Sophia omitted her encounter with Mr. Roxbury. Miles wasn’t the most affectionate brother, but she couldn’t risk that he’d grow protective and warn Mr. Roxbury to stay away in the future.

  “Drummond did what?” Miles asked Georgina.

  “It was nothing, Miles,” Georgina claimed.

  “Tell me what he said,” he pressed.

  “I begged him to have mercy on us, and he said he’d consider it—but I would have to be his mistress in order for him to show us any compassion.”

  “Were you dickering over terms? What would any mercy entail?”

  “Miles!” Sophia scolded again. “Let’s not discuss it. It’s mortifying.”

  “I’m truly curious,” he insisted. “What would Drummond be willing to surrender so he could have you, Georgie?”

  “We didn’t get that far in the conversation, Miles, and even if we had, it’s pointless to talk about it. I wouldn’t do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t like me, and I don’t trust him. Despite how I might obligate myself, I could never garner the assistance we require.”

  “You’re wrong, Georgie. A woman can obtain many advantages from a man if she manipulates him in the right way.”

  “If you think for one second that I’d be amenable, you need to think again. It would be a waste of time. I’d simply wind up dishonored and disgraced, and he’d never follow through on any promise.”

  Miles studied her, then quietly said, “I could command you.”

  It was a shocking remark, and Georgina was very hurt by it.

  “Miles,” Sophia chided, “you don’t mean that.”

  He had that angry glower, the one that appeared when he was denied a boon he wanted very much. “We’ve let you live here, Georgina. We’ve been kind to you, and we’ve given you clothes and shelter and food. We’ve never asked anything in return. Have we ever asked you for anything?”

  “No.” Georgina’s lips barely moved.

  “It sounds as if you could save us. Why won’t you? Aren’t you grateful to me?”

  “I’ve always been grateful, Miles. You know that.”

  “I thought I knew it,” he spat, “but now I’m not certain. Are you a member of this family or aren’t you? Are you loyal to us or not?”

  “Miles,” Sophia said, “stop it.”

  Georgina had tears in her eyes, and if she started to cry, Sophia wouldn’t be able to bear it. Why, oh, why was Miles so difficult?

  A muscle ticked in his cheek, his temper on a slow boil, and Sophia braced, wondering if he was about to fly into a rage. Ultimately he pushed back his chair and stood.

  “It’s nice to learn where I actually stand with you, Georgina,” he told her.

  “I’m sorry, Miles,” she miserably replied.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for tonight’s card game. Obviously it’s all on my shoulders. It doesn’t look as if anyone will help me.”

  He stormed out, and they slumped in their seats, the silence oppressive and exhausting.

  “That was horrid,” Sophia murmured once she could breathe again.

  “Do you blame me for refusing Mr. Drummond too?” Georgina inquired. “Should I have agreed?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Sophia rose and came around the table to give Georgina a tight hug. “And don’t listen to Miles. He’s a beast, and we shouldn’t ever be surprised by any of his crazed comments.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  They smiled tremulously when behind them, a man cleared his throat. They glanced over to see a footman from the manor.

  “What is it?” Sophia asked.

  “Miss Sophia, you received a note from Mr. Bean. It was delivered to the main house, but the butler thought you should have it immediately.”

  She went over and took it from him, and he hovered, his curiosity overt and annoying and she waved him away. “That will be all. Thank you for bringing it. Thank the butler too.”

  “I will, Miss Sophia.”

  He departed, and she plopped down in her chair. In all the years she’d known Harold, he’d never written her a single time.

  “What do you imagine he wants?” Georgina asked.

  “I have no idea.” Sophia gaped at the wax seal.

  “Open it, Sophia. Get it over with. And maybe it’s good news.”

  “We could use a dose of that.�
�� With shaking hands, she flicked her thumb under the seal, but she was too distressed to peek inside. She tossed it to Georgina. “Read it for me, would you? I can’t.”

  Georgina perused the words, then sighed. “He’s crying off.”

  “In a letter?” Sophia was offended and aggrieved. “Does he give a reason?”

  “Not really. He simply says ‘in light of your situation’ he needs to rethink his future.”

  “His future!” Sophia fumed. “What about mine?”

  “You never liked him anyway so it’s not much of a loss, is it?”

  Sophia chuckled, but dejectedly. “No, it’s definitely not much of a loss.”

  “Portia! Wait!”

  Portia spun around, seeing Miles hurrying toward her. She’d just finished chatting with Augusta and was headed to her carriage so she could rush home and confer with her father. Rumors had been circulating about the trouble at Kirkwood, and she couldn’t coast along on gossip. Heaven forbid one of the Marshalls—her fiancé perhaps?—would stop by and provide an explanation.

  Portia had had a full hour with Augusta, and she’d learned more than enough about the property and Miles and Mr. Drummond. She’d agreed to their betrothal because Miles was the biggest, richest landowner in the area, because she’d have been wealthy and prominent and esteemed by being his wife.

  What was he now? Nothing at all as far as she could discern.

  “What is it, Miles?” she curtly said as he hustled up.

  “I didn’t realize you were here. When did you arrive?”

  “A while ago. I’ve been talking to your mother.”

  “Is she up? She was napping when I left.”

  She frowned, expecting him to mention the crisis or clarify how it was that he and his mother were living in a hovel in the woods that had been boarded up for two decades. Yet no clarification was forthcoming.

  “When did you arrive?” she asked him.

  “This morning. I rode all night. I’d promised Georgina I’d be home for the party, but I had the date wrong so I missed it.” He guffawed as if his mistaking the date was funny.

  “It would have been nice to know you were back. Were you planning to visit me?”