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Twelve

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Jasper gave an exaggerated bow, and Daphne gave a more perfunctory one, obviously not quite sure she believed the ruffian in her soon-to-be foyer was actually a gentleman. He certainly looked more highwayman than marquess’s son, but then Colin was dressed as a sailor, so who was he to judge? For her part, Daphne wore a gray cloak he’d not seen before. He wondered what she wore underneath.

And then he caught a glimpse of her maid, her face pale and her eyes large, and pulled a chair away from the wall and set it behind the woman. “You had better sit down, miss.”

The maid sank into the chair without a word.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Daphne asked a moment later, when she’d had time to notice his clothing. “And you might have warned me your friend would be here.”

“I’ll just take a look in the parlor,” Jasper said, sliding through the door and out of sight.

“I went to the butler’s pantry to find lamp oil. I didn’t know you’d come as I’d just stepped away.” He took her arm and shuttled her into the dining room. “And it’s not as though you gave me any time to warn you of anything. You informed me you’d come here and demanded I join you.”

“I included Battersea’s letter. What else was I supposed to do?”

He looked down at her and had to stop himself from throttling her. “I can think of a hundred better options than for you to go out into London alone at night to come to an empty house. What if Battersea had been waiting for you?”

Daphne swallowed, her expression filled with fear. “I knew that was a possibility, but I am supposed to attend the Forsythe ball, and I think he will look for me there. Besides, I am not alone. I have Brown with me.”

“The maid who is sitting in that chair looking as though she might faint at any moment?”

“And the house isn’t empty. You were here waiting for me.”

He gave her a mocking bow. “As you can see, my lady, I am your servant, as always.”

She snorted.

“I can see why you would be concerned after that letter from Battersea.” It had taken Neil Wraxall, Stratford Fortescue, and Draven himself to persuade Colin not to go and kill the earl on the spot when he’d received her note at the Draven Club. Colin couldn’t remember ever reacting the way he had. He’d been so furious that he would have murdered Battersea with his bare hands if he’d had the opportunity. Colin hadn’t even realized he had such strong emotions.

He’d managed to contain them again before finding Jasper and changing their plans to first meet Daphne here. Of course, the part he hadn’t worked out was what to do with her while he and Jasper searched Battersea’s shipping offices.

“My parents had to attend the Forsythe ball tonight. I didn’t want to be home when Battersea realizes I’m not at the ball. I’m...” He could see the admissions was difficult, but she closed her eyes and said it. “I’m afraid he will come to the town house and try to abduct me. Colin, I’m truly scared now.”

Colin took her in his arms and held her for a long moment. She was shaking, and he rubbed her back until she stilled. The truth was, he admired her for taking action rather than being passive and waiting for Battersea to come for her. After he’d seen that note, he didn’t like the idea of her alone at home any more than he liked her here. Some of the staff would be home, of course, but no one would be paying attention to Lady Daphne or her maid.

If he were Battersea, he would have taken the opportunity.

Colin opened his mouth to tell her what she should do now, then closed it again and reconsidered. He’d grown up with three sisters. He should apply what he’d learned. He stepped back to look at her face. “What is your plan?” he asked.

“You said you’d know more about Battersea tomorrow. I thought I could help with your research. Or have you finished?”

Colin shook his head. “All I found out last night was which bawdy house he frequents.”

Her eyes widened and her lips thinned. “Are you saying while I was home, pretending to be ill, you were enjoying yourself at a bawdy house?” She took a menacing step toward him, and Colin was relieved there were no sharp objects nearby.

“I didn’t go in. Lord Jasper and I stood outside. We were following him.”

She looked at him for a long moment, assessing his words. “Why is Lord Jasper following him?”

“I asked him to help. He tracks people and stolen items for a living. He was the best tracker we had in the war.”

She glanced over her shoulder at where the parlor would be. Colin could see he was winning her over.

“He also knows people you and I don’t have access to—people in the underworld.”

“Criminals?”

“Men of dubious character, like your Battersea.”

“He’s not my Battersea. Where are we searching tonight? Back to the bawdy house or in a rookery?” Her tone was clearly one of suppressed excitement. Colin would wager all he owned she’d never seen a bawdy house or set foot anywhere near a rookery.

“You aren’t—” Colin stopped himself. “Don’t you think it’s best if you and your maid wait here until we return? Battersea won’t know where you’re moving or think to search for you here if he does.”

Daphne gave him a look she might give a lunatic. “I’m not staying here. I’m coming with you. After all, this is my problem to solve. I cannot leave it all to you. I can stand outside a bawdy house as well as you.”

“We’re not returning to the bawdy house. Jasper heard Battersea has investments in shipping. We plan to search his shipping offices.”

Daphne frowned. “How will you do that?”

The woman did not have a devious bone in her body.

“Break in. That’s why I’m dressed as a sailor. We don’t want to look suspicious. You will draw attention to us, and I’d rather not have to explain all of this to the magistrate.”

“But I won’t draw attention to you.” She unfastened her cloak and laid it over one of the dining chairs. “I’m wearing all black, and I brought this cap to hide my hair.” She pulled an old hunting cap onto her head.

Colin stared at her. She looked...he didn’t know how she looked. Adorable? Yes. Kissable? Yes. Inconspicuous? No.

“Daphne, the black was a good choice, but you still look like what you are—a well-bred lady.”

“Then Brown and I will switch clothing. I’ll look like a servant with the night off or on the way to visit friends.”

She would never look like a servant, but it wasn’t a wholly ridiculous idea. And he knew he would have to waste half the night arguing with her if he didn’t give in.

“Fine. You and Brown change. I’ll tell Jasper.”

She blinked at him, her blue eyes speculative. “That’s it? No more arguing?”

“Would it make any difference if I did? I can see you are determined to go.” And truth be told, he understood her reasoning. This was her doing. Why should he step in and fix all the broken pieces as though she were a child? All her life she’d been catered to and told not to do this and not to do that. He knew because he’d lived much the same sort of existence before the war. But she was a woman, not a child, and he didn’t intend to treat her as one.

“I am determined, and I can help.”

“That remains to be seen. But you’ll get your chance.” He opened the door. “Brown?” The servant looked up from the floor.

“Yes, sir?”

“I believe Lady Daphne requires your services.”

Then he crossed to the parlor and closed the door. Jasper was looking through a crack in the curtains. He didn’t bother to glance at Colin. “This is a bad idea.”

“You haven’t even heard the idea yet.”

“She wants to come with us, and you agreed.”

Colin scowled. How the devil did he know that?

Jasper looked at him. “It didn’t take me but thirty seconds to realize you’ve been lying to us all these years.”

Colin stiffened. “I beg your pardon.”

“I should beg yours. You’ve always made it seem as though you were forced to marry Warcliffe’s youngest and that you didn’t care a whit for her. That’s not true—at least not the part about not caring for her.”

“I don’t want her raped or abducted by a known abuser. I should think no gentleman would accept that.”

Jasper shook his head. “It’s more than that.” He moved closer to Colin, circled him. Colin watched him warily. “But maybe you’re not ready to accept that you care for her.” Jasper was behind him and leaned in close, whispering, “Maybe you really think you don’t have feelings.”

Colin turned to look at him. “Don’t tell me you want to talk about feelings.”

“Not particularly, but I can acknowledge I have them. I love my wife and my son.”

Colin felt his collar was too tight, even though he wore a shirt open at the neck. “Moving on.”

Jasper strolled around the room, ignoring him. “And I suppose I feel something akin to love for the Survivors. I was close to Rafe, but he’s gone now. Neil and Ewan and I had a few close calls. Draven’s always been something of a father to me, and you—”

“Stop.” Colin’s throat was so tight he had to push the word out. “This is unnecessary.”

“Is it? What if we die tonight? What if the devil comes looking for us, wearing his dancing shoes?” It was a phrase the men of Draven’s troop had used before a mission. “I want you to know how I feel.”

Colin might have stared at him in stupefaction if he hadn’t seen the ghost of a smile on Jasper’s lips.

“You think you’re amusing, don’t you?”

Jasper doubled over laughing, while Colin crossed his arms in annoyance. “I don’t see what’s so entertaining.”

“You should have seen your face,” Jasper said between chortles of laughter. “You looked like you’d just had cold water thrown over your head.”

“I’ll throw cold water over your head,” Colin muttered.

Jasper straightened and wiped his eyes. “But in all seriousness, FitzRoy, what are you frightened of? She’s your wife. It’s perfectly fine to be in love with her.”

“I’m not in love with her.” He realized he’d said it too quickly because Jasper gave him a look of warning. But then Colin frowned—Jasper wasn’t looking at him. Moreover, he would have joked that Colin protested too stridently, not given him an expression designed to shut him up.

Slowly, Colin followed Jasper’s gaze. There was Daphne in the parlor doorway, dressed in the maid’s uniform, which was too tight over her breasts and too short, showing her ankles. She looked nothing like a servant, especially not with the angry look on her face.

“Daphne, I—”

“Yes, I heard,” she said curtly. “You don’t love me. Well, that suits as I don’t love you either.” Her voice was cold, but he thought he saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. “So perhaps we should finish this night’s work so we can go back to ignoring each other.”

“Lady Daphne,” Jasper began. “Colin and I were discussing...when he said...you see I goaded him...”

“Lord Jasper, do you plan to stand here all night tripping over your tongue or shall we go?”

Jasper closed him mouth. “I suppose I prefer to go.”

“Then let’s be off.” And she turned her back and strode toward the door as though she were a queen.

Jasper looked at Colin. “She looked so pretty and sweet.”

Colin gave a bark of laughter. “At least you can admit you don’t know everything.”

***

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SHE KNEW COLIN DIDN’T love her. She didn’t need to be told that. She hadn’t needed to be told when they were betrothed. She hadn’t needed to be told when he did his duty on their wedding night, his attitude perfunctory and resigned. She hadn’t needed to be told these last seven years when he all but pretended she didn’t exist.

Colin FitzRoy did not love Daphne Caraway.

But she did not need it rubbed in her face, especially when the last few days she had begun to hope that maybe he would love her some day. Or maybe he at least liked her. Gone were the dutiful pecks on the hand or cheek. He kissed her as though he liked her. He touched her as though he liked her.

He touched her with an emotion much stronger than mere like.

But what if she’d misunderstood all of it? What if she had mistaken lust for something more? Women did it all the time, and men too. She had seen enough scandals in her time in London that she should have been immune to making such amateur mistakes. She wasn’t an ingenue who threw herself at the first man who whispered pretty words in her ear.

Or perhaps she was, because she had never been able to resist Colin, and he had done much more than give her pretty words.

But he’d said it loud and clear tonight. I’m not in love with her. She could stop hoping and pretending and wishing it were different or might someday be different. Yesterday, in this very house, he had asked her to give him a chance. Not to give up on him. She’d thought he had shown genuine emotion, but what if it was just a way to convince her to move in here or stay out of his way for a few days? What if all he cared about was that the duchess stopped badgering him to act like a husband?

And what if she was poised to act a complete fool all over again and have her heart broken to pieces?

“Daphne,” Colin said behind her.

She didn’t look around.

“Daphne, allow Lord Jasper to lead.”

“I’m perfectly capable.” They were out of the house now. She’d sent Brown back to the Warcliffe town house as soon as they had exchanged clothing. She supposed at least she’d been spared the indignity of her maid hearing her husband’s declaration. So it was only the three of them now, walking along the dark street.

“I am certain you are capable, my lady,” Lord Jasper said from behind her. “But you are walking in the wrong direction.”

She turned and followed him, aware this was yet another instance when she looked like a fool. Lord Jasper led and Colin walked behind her as they wound through dark streets and rank alleys. Brown’s feet were smaller than hers, so they had not traded footwear, and Daphne was glad she wore her sturdiest half-boots. She’d learned her lesson from the slippers the other night.

But even with the half-boots, her legs were beginning to hurt, and she was slightly out of breath.

“We’re almost there,” Colin said, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her elbow.

She snatched her elbow away, not wanting him to touch her. “I’m fine. I don’t need any help.” She increased her pace. “Especially not from you,” she muttered.

She knew they were nearing the docks by the smell. There were places on the Thames that were pretty and smelled fresh and lovely. And then there were the docks, which smelled like rotting fruit, dead fish, and fouled water. In the distance, she could see the tall masts of the ships crowding the sky. Lord Jasper led them toward the warehouse and customs buildings, which was away from the taverns and inns the sailors and dock workers frequented.

They seemed to pass building after building after building until Daphne was hopelessly lost and certain she would never find her way home again if separated from her companions. Finally, Lord Jasper stopped before a building and said in a low voice, “This is the one.”

“How can you tell?” Daphne asked, looking up at the structure. It looked just like all the other buildings.

“Because I can,” he said. She wanted to roll her eyes.

“We should go in the back,” Colin said, looking around them. They were actually about to break in. Daphne could not believe she would be a criminal after tonight. What if they ended up finding incriminating papers or documents and taking them? She would be a thief, not merely a...whatever the name was for someone who broke into buildings.

She followed Lord Jasper around the back and stood to the side while he bent to the lock. She saw no lights and heard nothing but the sounds of men’s voices, but those were distant and not a worry at the moment. Still, her heart pounded in her chest so loudly she thought Colin could surely hear.

Finally, the door swung open and Jasper stepped out of the way. “Ladies first.” But she did not want to go into the dark building first. Colin seemed to sense this and moved past her. Once inside, Jasper closed and locked the door again then lit the lantern he had with him. He pointed to the office on the first floor. “Anything worth anything will be up there. You two start there. I’ll search down here.”

Colin climbed the steps, but they were stymied at the closed door by yet another lock. “Give me a hairpin,” Colin said.

She reached up and took one out then handed it to him. “You know how to pick locks?”

“I know a little.” But after a few minutes of fumbling and two more of her hair pins, he called for Lord Jasper. She held the lamp while Lord Jasper used his own tools to pick the lock. He swore several times, but as it was nothing she hadn’t heard from her brothers, she ignored it.

Finally, the door clicked open. “You’re bound to find something here,” Lord Jasper said, indicating the office. “That was a well-made lock and not cheap. He’s protecting something.”

He stayed until Colin lit the lamp in the office with the lantern Jasper held, then went back to the ground floor to “look around and keep watch.”

Daphne entered the office and shivered. She couldn’t remember ever having smelled Lord Battersea, but this place carried his scent. It was something dark and heavy. It made her stomach turn.

“Do you want the desk or those file drawers?” Colin asked.

“I’ll take the file drawers.”

He nodded, lit a lamp for her, then brought his to the desk. He sat behind it and opened the first drawer.

Daphne stared at all of the drawers, finally deciding to begin with the first one. That was the most logical method of proceeding, but it was probably not the quickest. She opened it and lifted out the file on top.

She and Colin worked in silence for some time, he leafing through papers from the drawers and she opening file after file and seeing nothing that looked in the least interesting or suspicious. If only she knew what she were looking for.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that.” Colin spoke, breaking the silence. His voice startled her, and she whipped around to look at him. As soon as she realized what he’d said, she wished she had left her back to him.

She turned back to her file. “I don’t know why it should matter. It’s not as though you said anything I don’t already know.”

“Daphne, I spoke out of frustration. Jasper can be an arse, and he’d annoyed me.”

She set the folder she held on the floor and looked at him. “Then you do love me?”

It would have been comical to watch him squirm and his mouth open and shut like a fish if the question hadn’t meant so much to her.

Why had she even asked? Did she want him to hurt her? “Never mind. I think your silence says everything.”

“It’s not that I don’t...” He swallowed. “Care for you.”

“Oh, you care for me? Like you care for Pugsly?”

“Daphne.” He rose and crouched beside her on the floor. “I can honestly say that I would never, ever kiss Pugsly.”

She smiled despite herself. “And we are back to lust.”

“It’s not lust.” He ran a hand through his hair and when he looked at her again, she arched a brow. He sighed. “There’s some lust. I’m a man and you’re...well, look at you.”

She looked down at her drab, ill-fitting livery. Her hair had come loose from its pins—the ones still in place—and she was seated on the floor.

“I look a mess.”

He shook his head slowly, and the look he gave her sent heat straight to her lower belly. Why was it so hard to resist him?

“You have no idea what I’d like to do to you right now.”

She looked about. “Here?” The idea sent a little thrill through her.

“I didn’t say it was logical. I’ve been wondering for the past hour if the stitches in that bodice will hold.”

She looked down at the taut fabric straining to contain her breasts.

“I’ve been hoping it wouldn’t.”

He lifted a hand and traced one finger over the exposed tops of her breasts. She inhaled sharply and their eyes met. She couldn’t seem to stop herself. Just as she couldn’t seem to stop acting like a ninny. And here she went again. Daphne grasped his coat and kissed him hard. He fell against her, toppling them both to the floor. She didn’t care. She needed his mouth on her. She needed the feel of his body against hers.

He kissed her with all the passion she felt, leaving her breathless and wanting more. And when he pulled back and traced a line of kisses down her throat and to her collarbone, she arched her head back. After tonight they could do this every night, in a bed. She would undress him, touch him everywhere, wake up beside him...

Or would she? Maybe he would just take his pleasure and leave as he had on their wedding night. Because maybe all there was for him was lust. But couldn’t lust turn into more? Perhaps it already had, and he just didn’t know how to admit it. She hadn’t asked him to apologize—not that he had apologized, not really—for what she’d heard. He must care something for her feelings to try and appease her.

Colin looked up at her. “What’s wrong?”

She blinked at him.

“You’re somewhere else.”

“We should get back to the search. I’d rather Lord Jasper didn’t walk in on me with my skirts tossed up around my waist.”

He looked at her for a long moment, and she almost told him she didn’t care. She almost told him not to stop and pulled him back for a kiss. She had waited so long for him to hold her like this, touch her like this, want her like this. But she didn’t speak, and she saw as he clenched his jaw that he was summoning his resolve.

“You have a point,” he said. He pulled back and helped her to her feet. She tried to right Brown’s livery, but it seemed hopeless. When she adjusted the bodice, trying to put it back in place, she glanced at Colin, who quickly looked away. “I’ll just go back to my desk.”

“I’ll go back to my drawers.” She bent to lift the pile of papers she’d been reading and then remembered something her father had mentioned one night at a dinner party. She hadn’t really been paying attention until she heard Battersea’s name. It was something about insurance. He had collected a large settlement from his insurance agent. Something about lost goods on the Ranger. She had not realized at the time, but now she wondered if the Ranger might not be a ship. Leaving her piles of documents where they were, she rose and went to the drawer with the files for R. She sorted through them, but there was no file for Ranger where it should have been.

Perhaps she had not heard correctly. Idly, she continued thumbing through the files, trying to remember the conversation. She was almost to the bottom of the drawer when she saw RA.

Daphne held her breath. RA should not be filed so far away from the top of the pile. She lifted the other files out and stared down at a filed labeled RANGER.

Perhaps she’d been paying more attention than she thought.

Daphne sank to the floor, not caring if she didn’t look ladylike, and opened the file. She perused the cargo log. It detailed crates of spices, wines, silks, and other fabrics bound for Canada. There were other goods as well—muskets, gun powder, books—but the majority of the cargo appeared to be luxury items. There was nothing unusual about that. Canada was a vast unchartered land situated across an entire ocean. They would have to import spices and silks and probably exported furs and timber.

Feeling a bit disheartened, she paged listlessly through course charts and names and salaries of the various captain and crew.

“Find anything?” Colin asked.

She looked up to find him watching her. “I don’t think so. I remembered my father discussing lost goods on a ship called Ranger. I thought Battersea owned it, and I’ve found the file here. But everything looks in order.”

Colin’s green eyes narrowed. “That does sound familiar. Something about an insurance settlement. It must have been substantial if it was in the papers.”

She looked back at the documents she’d set aside. “Did the ship sink? Why would he receive an insurance settlement?”

“Shall I take a look?”

“Yes.” She patted the floor beside her. “It will take me at least another quarter hour to go through this. If you take part, we can do it in half the time.”

He crossed the room and sat beside her. She handed him a stack of loose papers and took the captain’s log for herself. She’d already begun it and found it rather tedious, but she could finish it if Colin looked at the other materials.

The captain wrote daily of the wind and the weather and the course corrections. There was apparently an issue with one sailor on board, and he had been confined to the brig for drunkenness. That was the extent of the excitement. She turned the page and found the log had skipped several days.

“This is odd.”

Colin glanced up at her. “What is?”

“These pages are missing from the log. It’s”—she looked at the dates and flipped back and forth—“about a week’s worth of annotations.”

“I will look through these, but the papers I have pertain to the insurance settlement.”

Daphne leaned close and studied the papers Colin held between them. “Five thousand pounds for silks?”

“And another three thousand for the other fabrics. I haven’t read all the documents, but it appears the Ranger was set upon by privateers who boarded and took the silks, muslins and laces, and gunpowder.”

She met Colin’s gaze. “Not the muskets?”

His brows lifted. “That was my thought as well. Even if a pirate had plenty of weapons, they could always use more. And muskets are more valuable than gunpowder.”

“Is there an explanation?”

He turned the pages and pointed to a section about a quarter of the way down one piece of parchment. “It says that the crew were alerted to the presence of the other ship and fought the pirates before they could load the muskets on their ship. Apparently, the pirates boarded under cover of darkness and when the crew was short one man on watch.”

Daphne nodded. “There was a crew member in the brig for drunkenness.”

Colin looked up at her, his gaze meeting hers. Daphne was uncomfortably aware of how close they were. She could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers. “So the story is plausible,” Colin said.

Daphne watched his lips move. She couldn’t help thinking what nice lips he had. They were always so soft and teasing when he kissed her.

“Daphne?”

“Hmm?” She looked back at his eyes.

“I said the story is plausible. At least the insurance company thought so.”

“Right.” She had to avoid looking at his lips. Instead she looked back at the documents he held. “But I’m still curious about those missing pages of the log.” Perhaps looking at his hands was not better than his lips. He had long, straight fingers with rounded tips and blunt nails. He’d touched her in the most private of places with those fingers. He seemed to know how to work magic with them.

“Is there anything in the log about the attack?”

“I’ll see.” Daphne blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, glad for something to do besides look at Colin. Being close to him was distracting. But even when she didn’t look at him, when she kept her focus on the pages of the log as she leafed through it, she inhaled his scent with every breath she took. It was a mixture of soap and something musky he must have used to shave. Or perhaps it was in his soap. It smelled clean and woodsy, and she wanted to bury her nose in his neck and inhale more deeply. And then she was imagining burying her face against his neck, brushing her lips against the skin there, darting her tongue out to taste his flesh.

“Are you even reading those pages?” he asked.

She stopped, realizing she had just been turning pages without reading a word. “No, I...I’m distracted.” She chanced a look at his face, which wore an expression of amusement.

“By what?”

She looked away. “Nothing. I’ll look again.” She turned back to the last page of the log she remembered reading.

“Daphne.”

She jumped at the quiet way he said her name.

“What?”

“Am I distracting you?”

She cleared her throat which seemed rather tight with him so close. “It might have been better when you were over there.” She pointed to the desk.

“Why?” Oh, he was enjoying this. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Because then I couldn’t smell you.”

“What?”

They both froze as Lord Jasper’s footfalls sounded rapidly on the stairs. He paused at the doorway. “Lights out. Someone is coming.”