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“What do you mean, someone is coming?” Daphne asked, fear clutching her chest and squeezing tightly.
“I think it might be the Watch. There’s two of them.”
Colin rose and shuttered the lamp on the desk and then Daphne did the same to the one beside her. The room was thrust into darkness, and she could just discern Lord Jasper’s shape in the door frame.
“Stay in here,” he said. “I’ll close the door. You lock it and keep quiet and still.”
“Where will you be?” Colin asked.
“There are a dozen places to hide on the ground floor. If they suspect someone is here, I don’t think they’ll come upstairs, but I’ll stop them before they reach you.” He closed the door. Daphne didn’t hear him walk away, but Colin made his way carefully to the door and locked it.
“How will he stop them?” Daphne asked.
“It’s better not to ask him too many questions,” Colin murmured. “He won’t answer, and if he does, you might not like what he says.”
“That sounds ominous.” And then she ceased whispering and listened because she heard the sound of a man’s voice coming closer. Lord Jasper had been correct. There were men approaching. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they were definitely nearing the shipping offices.
What if they were Battersea’s employees or Battersea himself? She shivered and Colin, who had returned to sitting beside her, put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “There,” he said, whispering in her ear. “Now you can smell me better.”
She elbowed him in the ribs, and he groaned. “Watch my ribs.”
She’d forgotten he’d bruised them. “Sorry, but you are incorrigible.”
“True enough. And now that you’re close, I can smell your perfume. What is it? It smells pink.”
“What does pink smell like?” she whispered.
“Sweet and a little tart”—he sniffed again—“and pretty.”
She laughed quietly. “I am hardly sweet.”
“And you’re much more than pretty.” His lips grazed her neck, nuzzling the sensitive flesh there. She let out a shaky breath as the lips she’d been admiring earlier made her entire body come alive. It felt as though tiny little fires licked their way up her skin from the tips of her toes to her weak knees to her inner thighs and higher.
But she also couldn’t quite get the image she’d had of her own lips on his skin out of her mind. She turned toward him, careful to make no sound, as it seemed the Watch had paused outside the building and were smoking and talking. She could hear their low voices as she ran her hands up Colin’s shirt.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
“I want to kiss you.” She pushed the papers off his lap, not caring if she made a mess of the Ranger file, and climbed over his legs to straddle his thighs. It was an extremely unladylike position, but it was too dark for him to see much more than her shadow. Colin didn’t seem to mind her unladylike behavior, though. He pulled her closer to him, so their bodies were flush.
“That’s better,” he said.
“Much.” She found his collar with her hand and pushed it open. His clothing was coarse as would befit a sailor, and he wore a loose neck cloth she easily pushed out of the way. She unfastened two buttons, parting his shirt at the throat. She could hear that his breath had sped up, but he hadn’t stopped or questioned her.
Daphne leaned forward to press her lips against the bare skin of his neck just where his collarbone met his shoulder. She inhaled, and there was that clean, masculine scent again. She pressed her lips against the flesh there then moved them slightly higher until she could feel his rapidly beating pulse. She licked it and he made a quiet groan.
“You taste as good as you smell,” she whispered. His hands came up to rest on her waist as she bent to nuzzle his neck again. She traced a path to his earlobe and nipped at it lightly. His hands tightened. It seemed that particular action had the same effect on him as it did on her.
She explored further, finally reaching his jaw and tracing the rough stubble to his mouth. He was waiting for her, his mouth warm and ready as he opened for her, kissing her back. She could feel the desire in the way he held her, kissed her. It made her dizzy. Their tongues met, and she rocked against him, suddenly aware of the hard bulge between them.
“Is that?” she asked then stopped because she didn’t know what to call it.
“My cock?” he whispered against her lips. “I’m hard for you.”
“That’s what happened on our wedding night when you...” She didn’t want to remember the pain, though she knew he had tried to be gentle.
“It happens to me every time I touch you.” His hands ran up and down her back. “Every time I kiss you. You don’t seem to understand how much I want you.”
“I want you too,” she said. She wanted him desperately. Her body was on fire for him, and she didn’t care that they were in Battersea’s office or that there were men standing below or that he didn’t love her. She was a woman who wanted a man, who wanted her husband.
Her hand came between them, tracing the length and hardness of him, but when she started to loose the fall of his trousers, he stopped her. “Not here and now,” he said. “I made a poor job of it the first time. I’m not following that by taking you on the hard floor of this bastard’s office.”
She licked his neck again. “But I want you, Colin. I’ve hardly been able to read a word since you sat beside me. I want your hands on me.”
“I think that can be arranged.” And she felt his hands slide under her skirts to the skin of her thigh just above her garters. Oh, yes. She knew what he would do to her now. She leaned back, giving him access, as he traced a slow path to where her body throbbed.
“You’re becoming a wanton,” he murmured.
“I can’t help it.” She inhaled sharply as his hand grazed her core. “The things you do to me.”
His fingers teased and enticed. “Do you know what I plan to do to you tomorrow night? In our bed?”
“No—Oh.” She moaned.
“Shh.”
She nodded, clamping her lips shut but allowing her hips to move against his talented fingers.
“Do you want me to tell you?”
“Please.”
“I’ll undress you. Slowly and in the lamplight. I want to see every inch of you.” He dipped a finger inside her, and her body clamped tight to it as she rocked against his palm, which pressed hard to the place she most needed his touch.
“I want to kiss every inch of you,” he whispered. “Especially here.” His thumb moved in a circle and she made a small whimper.
“Colin, please,” she begged. She was so close to the pleasure she knew he could bring her, but it seemed when she came close, he pulled back, teasing her, making her wait.
“And when I have you naked and sated, your body flush with pleasure, that’s when I’ll take you.”
“How?” she asked, his voice, his words making her heart pound in time to the throbbing of her body.
“I’ll part your legs and slide my cock inside you. Like this.” His finger slid in and out of her. “So slowly. Filling you. Making you cry out in pleasure. You won’t have to be quiet like you do tonight.”
She almost sobbed with need. “I want you now,” she murmured.
“You want pleasure. Then take it.” He pressed his thumb against her, and she moved against it until the pleasure crescendoed and crashed over her. Colin put a hand over her mouth, but she bit her lip to stay quiet. When the swirling ecstasy subsided, she collapsed against him, limp and used, and smiling.
He kissed her cheek, and in that moment, she wanted to believe he cared for her. At least a little.
***
COLIN HELD DAPHNE CLOSE, liking the feel of her soft, warm body pressed to his. He worried he was becoming too used to having her close, to touching her body, to holding her. But then again, he was an adult male. He had needs he had put aside for years, and once he’d had her, he wouldn’t think of her so much. He wouldn’t have to worry he was beginning to feel too much for her.
He hadn’t expected to feel anything more than attraction and affection for her. She’d always been beautiful and vivacious. He’d liked her. He just hadn’t wanted to marry her. But then he hadn’t wanted to marry anyone at twenty-two years of age. He’d wanted freedom and adventure and to see the world.
Now he’d had all of that and more, and even before the Duchess of Warcliffe had come to him, demanding he intervene with her daughter, he had been thinking it was time to mend the relationship with his wife.
His wife. Daphne—who was smart and resourceful, brave and passionate, independent and loyal. And yes, a bit reckless. But she’d taken responsibility for her mistakes with Battersea. She didn’t expect anyone else to fix her problems, and she wasn’t too proud to accept help either.
He liked her.
He remembered her as being pouty and needy in her pink with dozens of bows. But now he saw that she had been as unsure of things between them as he had been. She had probably been scared and hopeful.
He’d let her down. He had not been what she needed. Colin pulled her closer and vowed not to let her down again. And didn’t that strike fear into his heart? He doubted he could be what she needed, but he wanted to try. Maybe she wouldn’t demand he crack open his chest and expose his heart as he feared. Maybe she was willing to take pleasure and affection and leave it there.
And who the hell was he fooling?
Daphne gave a sated sigh and pulled back from him. “I don’t hear the voices any longer. Do you think they’ve moved on?”
He didn’t hear them either, which meant they probably had. Jasper would be back in a moment to give the all-clear. As though he’d summoned the bounty hunter, he heard Jasper’s quiet footsteps on the stairs. The fact that he heard Jasper at all meant the man was giving him notice of his approach. Colin helped Daphne to her feet and rose himself. His cock protested being ignored yet once more, but Colin managed to cool his ardor by imagining Pugsly’s ugly little face.
“Colin?” Jasper tapped on the door.
“Are they gone?” Colin asked, voice low. He crossed the room to open the door. Jasper hadn’t lit his lantern again.
“I think so. I didn’t want to take any chances. You can light the lantern in here. There are no windows.”
Colin moved to the place he’d left the lamp, and fumbled about until he managed to light it again. He turned to look at Jasper and Daphne, who stood on opposite sides of the room. Jasper looked as he always did in his dark cloak and mask, but it was difficult to get used to seeing Daphne in servants’ livery. Her hair was disheveled and her cheeks pink, but she looked less debauched than he’d feared.
“Made any progress?” Jasper asked.
“We have, actually,” Colin said, and told Jasper what they’d found and what they had not found—the missing pages of the log book.
“Is Battersea the sort of man who might try and cheat the insurance firm?” Jasper asked.
“Most definitely,” Daphne answered. “You don’t believe his account of pirates?”
Jasper shrugged. “I find it questionable. The British Navy has made piracy all but obsolete. There are still small bands of smugglers operating on the coasts, but it’s rare in this day and age to see an attack like the one described.”
“And an attack that claimed only gunpowder and silks,” Colin added. “I don’t believe that, even pressed for time, the pirates wouldn’t have taken the muskets. Those missing log pages are the key.”
“Then we find them. Why don’t I read the rest of the log? Surely the captain will mention the attack. You two search for the missing pages.” Jasper held out a gloved hand and Daphne gave him the log.
“If Battersea were smart, he would have burned those log pages,” she said.
“He very likely did,” Colin agreed. “But we have to be as certain as possible they’re not here. I’ll start on this side and you start on that.”
It was an impossible task, he thought as he opened one drawer after another and looked through folders and stacks of documents. He could put his hands on the pages and not realize they were the ones he sought. He didn’t have enough time to search thoroughly. That would have taken days, and they had only a few more hours.
The lamp burned on and the three of them worked in silence until finally Jasper closed the log and set it on the desk with a thud. “That was interesting.”
“Why is that?” Daphne asked, sliding a drawer open and poking her head in to peer in the back.
“There’s no mention of the pirate attack until the end of the log. The account is on loose parchment stuck into the back. It’s the same writing and purports to be the missing pages, but there’s no evidence the pages were ripped out.”
Colin strolled over to take a look. “You think the captain was told to fabricate an account later?”
“It’s a possibility. Battersea might have paid him to lie.”
“But why?” Daphne asked. “What really happened to the silk and gunpowder if pirates didn’t steal it?”
“We need to find the missing pages to know that.”
She straightened and leaned back against the file drawers. “I don’t think we’ll ever find them. We’ve been searching for hours. They’re probably ashes.”
“I don’t think so,” Colin said, going to back to where he’d left off earlier. “If the captain was bribed to give a false account, Battersea would have kept the evidence of the captain’s lie in case the man ever had a change of heart. Battersea could see him sent to prison for falsifying an insurance claim.”
Daphne gave him a weary look. “So we keep searching.”
“Wishing you had stayed behind now?” Colin asked, sliding a drawer open.
“Then you wouldn’t have thought to look for the Ranger,” she said. “You needed me.” She turned and opened her own drawer.
“True,” Colin admitted. “Though it’s likely the Ranger is not the first time he’s been part of a swindle. I think we would have found something sooner or later.”
Daphne scowled at him before huffing and going back to her search. Jasper gave Colin a bewildered look and Colin just shook his head. Jasper had a point that she had overreacted, but Colin knew he still had a few things to learn about women.
Jasper joined the search and the three worked in silence for what felt like hours. Colin’s back hurt and his eyes stung when he closed them for a moment with exhaustion and strain. He opened one more drawer, determined that if he found nothing in it, they would have to admit defeat and leave the docks before too many people were about. Just then Daphne sank to her knees.
Colin abandoned his drawer and went to her. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I feel...perfect,” she said, lifting several papers aloft. “I found them.”
“Are you sure?” Jasper asked. Daphne cut a look at him, and Jasper held up his hands in defense. “Let me rephrase. What do they say?”
She spread the papers on the floor and Colin brought the lantern close so they could all read. She rearranged them to the order she wanted then pointed to the one to the farthest left, near Jasper. “It’s the same handwriting and you can see it’s been torn from a binding.”
Jasper opened the captain’s log and compared the last entry before the missing pages to the first one on the floor. “The dates coincide.”
The three of them leaned close, reading the first page, with Daphne turning it when all three indicated they had finished the front. The proceeded to read all five or six pages that way and then Colin sat back.
“He’s bloody well crafty. Even if his insurers suspected something was amiss in his tale, they wouldn’t have come to this conclusion,” Colin said.
“I don’t understand,” Daphne said. “The captain wrote that the silks and gunpowder were damaged by a water leak. Couldn’t Battersea collect damaged goods insurance, or whatever it might be called?”
“It’s possible, but he wouldn’t receive the full amount of the value of the goods,” Jasper said. “Only a fraction. And he couldn’t sell the goods, although there might still be some who would buy the silk at an extensive mark down. But if he claims the good were taken, a total loss—”
“He is paid their full value,” Daphne said.
“And if the crew sells what can be salvaged then that’s an extra profit.” Colin rose and paced away. “The captain must be in on it. Initially, he gave a truthful account, but when he returned, Battersea somehow persuaded him to lie.”
“It’s possible the captain was paid off, but I’ll be damned if we have time to go through and find a bank draft,” Jasper said.
“We don’t need the draft to damn Battersea,” Daphne said. “We need the captain.”
Colin and Jasper exchanged a look then both looked at Daphne.
“What did I say?” she asked.
“You just gave us our next step.” He hated to admit it, but she had been invaluable tonight. She was clever and so much more than the Society miss he’d thought her to be for all those years.
Jasper held up a hand. “Not I. My wife will wonder where I’ve been, and I have card swindlers to deal with. You’ll have to find the captain on your own.”
Colin was the one who scowled now. “I can’t take her to search for a ship’s captain alone. I’ll have my throat slit.”
“Why?” Daphne asked. Colin didn’t bother to point out that she would be a prize for any number of criminal men.
“Take Duncan,” Jasper said. “He’s big enough and has nothing to do but squire prospective brides about. As for that, he usually scares them away within a quarter hour.”
“No,” Daphne said at the same time Colin said, “Good idea.”
“No! I’ll owe him a favor, and my friends will never forgive me if I introduce their daughters to a man like him.”
“I think you have bigger problems than Society’s opinion of Duncan Murray,” Colin said.
“Oh, very well! When do we go?”
Colin smiled. She did not even hesitate, though she must have understood the danger. He understood it all too well, and a part of him was already panicking at the thought of anything happening to her. But then the woman was practically fearless. It was difficult not to find himself feeling more than he liked to admit for this woman and wondering how he would ever go back to life without her. Daphne was still waiting for an answer, so Colin considered. “I’ll see what I can find out about the man—Captain Gladwell—whether he’s in London or on a ship right now.”
Daphne’s face fell. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“If he’s in London, we pay him a visit tomorrow evening. I can call for you after four.”
She shook her head. “You won’t need to call for me. We’re moving into our house tomorrow or have you forgotten?”
He had forgotten. And that meant he couldn’t spend all day gathering information on a merchant captain. Colin had to move in with his wife.
And he thought he’d been panicking before.