Page 13

Chapter Thirteen

An unlikely coincidence…

M arina was breathless. Shamefully, it was less from the fall than from the sensation of having Caleb’s arms wrapped around her. The firmness of his chest beneath her and the hard length of his thighs which were pressed between hers was both foreign and enticing. She had never touched another person so intimately. It was as shocking to her as the moment of terror when she’d seen the carriage coming at them.

She was vaguely aware of Stephens standing nearby, wringing her hands and muttering pleas to the Lord Almighty. In any other circumstances, seeing that particular woman so overset by any event would have been a rare treat. Since the event in question had very nearly left them injured at best and potentially killed at worst, her amusement was tempered.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No. No, I don’t think so. Were you injured?” she asked, her voice tremulous and breathy.

“No. I’m quite well. Let’s get you off this cold pavement, shall we?”

Marina blushed hotly. “Oh, yes. Of course. Forgive me. I was simply so startled that I—” She didn’t finish. Thankfully she didn’t have to because one of the bystanders came forward to help her up. “Thank you, sir. You are most kind.”

“You’re very welcome, miss. Though I must say that strapping gentleman of yours is the hero. That carriage would have run you both down for certain. Mad drivers. No business on the roads at all.”

Caleb had gotten up by then and took her by the elbow. “We’ll take a hansom cab the rest of the way. That was a nasty spill you took.”

“You bore the brunt of it,” she said. “But yes, I agree. We should take a hansom cab. This all feels very, very wrong. There was no traffic at all. Where did it come from?”

His expression firmed, his jaw clenching tightly. “I cannot answer that. But I mean to find out… First and foremost, let’s get you home and handle the necessary business matters with your uncle.”

Marina heard his words, and yet the meaning of them was unclear to her—because her attention was focused on a point across the street. In a shadowy doorway, Stanford Williams stood watching them. When their gazes locked, he tipped his hat to her, then he turned and was gone.

“Marina, let’s get you home,” he said again, his tone incredibly gentle and obviously concerned.

“What?”

“Home. I’ll speak with your uncle while you recuperate from this… incident,” he offered.

In the upheaval of the last moments, their reasons for returning to her home had almost escaped her. As he hailed a cab for them and then helped her inside, it all came rushing back. With Stephens occupying the position opposite her, there would be no chance to discuss it with him in any depth. Everything they said would be reported back to her aunt and uncle. While she loved them both dearly, they did have a tendency toward wrapping her in woolen cloth as if she were some sort of fragile doll.

The situation with Lady Crowden, Mr. Nutter’s unreasonable anger, Elizabeth’s machinations. And the appearance of Stanford just as they were nearly run down by a carriage. Those were not facts that could be easily ignored. While she was not one given to paranoia or flights of fancy, one still had to wonder if perhaps the runaway carriage that nearly hit them hadn’t been an accident at all. Was someone out for revenge? Did someone intend to sabotage the potential marriage for their own petty reasons? After all, it wasn’t the first time in her life that someone had plotted her death.

Even acknowledging that fact, it sounded outlandish to her own ears. Perhaps if she hadn’t kept Stanford’s previous scheme a secret, uttering it now would not seem so desperate. But she hadn’t shared her reasons for breaking the engagement, and to do so now would be suspect at best. Others might well call her a liar outright. She had no proof of anything. Her only knowledge of his plot had come from eavesdropping on a whispered conversation between him and whoever his unknown paramour had been. It sounded completely implausible. So much so that she dared not utter it aloud.

Part of her hoped it had been an accident. An accident and a coincidence. After all, they were in a very busy shopping district. It was quite possible that he’d been there for an entirely different reason that had naught to do with her. Anyone nearby would have been drawn by the commotion. But she’d lived in London all her life and never come so close to a nearly catastrophic incident. She remained quiet, contemplating the matter on the ride home. Caleb was also silent. A new fear emerged then. What if he was having second thoughts? What if, upon reflection, he found her an unsuitable choice after all? Scandal was one thing to tolerate, but for an association with her to make him a target? That was something else altogether.

*

Caleb’s thoughts were scattered, bouncing all around in a chaotic fashion. There was one thing he was certain of, however. What they had just experienced could not, with any degree of plausibility, have been an accident. He had no wish to frighten Marina by voicing such suspicions, but with all his heart he believed that someone had just tried to kill them. But then he had to consider, perhaps the attempt hadn’t been meant for both of them. He had stopped her and she had turned to him. So had the driver meant to kill him… or her? Without ascertaining which of them was the true target, there was little he could do to identify the actual source of the threat.

He would have to tell Lord Deveril, he decided. The man needed to know that someone was conspiring to harm Marina. But the question was why? Had she been targeted in any way prior to their current predicament? If not, then could it be that their impending marriage was the motivation for someone to harm her?

When the cab slowed to a stop before the palatial Park Lane home, he climbed down first, helping the dour-faced maid down, and then offered Marina his hand which she accepted. Somewhere in the chaos of the day her glove had torn and she had removed it. For the first time, he touched her bare skin, felt the jolt of that connection in its full force. It nearly rocked him back on his heels. He also recognized one very important fact. She felt it too. Her sharply indrawn breath and the way her stunned gaze lifted to his face told the truth of that.

With no small degree of reluctance, he let her go. “Let’s get you inside.”

Escorting her up the steps, the door was opened before they ever reached it. The butler took one look at the pair of them, raised his eyebrows, and then simply stepped aside. They were, Caleb admitted, quite noticeably disheveled from their ordeal.

“You look like you’ve been run over by a carriage!”

Caleb looked up to see a boy on the stairs, no more than fifteen or so. He bore some resemblance to Marina, but he had the fair hair of Lady Deveril who he assumed was the boy’s mother. “We very nearly were,” Caleb replied to him. “It’s been an eventful day.”

“It certainly has.” That droll quip had come from Lord Deveril who had emerged from his study. “I take it there is some reasonable explanation for your current dishabille?”

“We’ll discuss it in your study if you do not mind, my lord. I’m certain that Ma—Miss Ashton wishes to refresh herself after the tumble we took.”

If Lord Deveril caught the slip of her name, he chose to ignore it. Perhaps in favor of getting to the bottom of why they both looked as though they’d rolled in the street. In some ways, he supposed they had. With a deep breath, he followed the man into his study with a backward glance at his nearly betrothed as she made her way up the stairs.

“What the deuce is going, St. Aiden? And I’ll thank you to be straight with me on the matter. I’ve no patience for prevarication.”

Caleb nodded. “I believe, my lord, that someone just tried to murder either Miss Ashton or myself. Possibly they could have wished to see us both eliminated, but I think it unlikely. From the way the incident occurred, I cannot actually say who was the intended target. I can only say that a carriage came out of nowhere. There was no traffic, the street was not busy. There had been nothing. And as we stood at the edge of the sidewalk, it came barreling out of nowhere and nearly swept us both down with it.”

Lord Deveril slammed his fist down on the top of his desk. “Why? I want to know why?”

“I wish I could offer a conclusive answer. Perhaps it is jealousy—Until last night, I had no enemies. Now, there is Lady Crowden whose pride was wounded by my perceived rejection of her. There is Mr. Nutter who seems not at all pleased by this turn of events. And then of course there is Miss Whitmore who seems to hold Miss Ashton in no small amount of dislike. For the life of me, I cannot imagine any one of them choosing to commit murder over that and certainly not to have carried it out so efficiently that the first attempt would happen barely more than twelve hours from the events that have brought me here to your home today.”

“No. I can’t see that either. You may not have enemies, St. Aiden, but I do. And Marina’s life has not been an easy one. Her father—and she does not know this—was a traitor. A man with many enemies. He may be long dead, but many of those he wronged remain and they are quite embittered. This is no simple thing. There could be any number of culprits but that is best left for another day… There is also her former betrothed.”

“Her former betrothed?”

“Yes,” Lord Deveril said. “She cried off the day of the wedding—well, in truth, she fainted dead away at the altar and I carried her out. When she came to, I offered to take her back to the church, to speak with the man and try to smooth things over, but she declined. She stated, very calmly and with perfect composure, that she’d learned something about her intended which indicated that he had not been honest about his feelings for her. It was something she’d wrestled with for several days and had only been willing to see it through to avoid scandal. With her collapse, scandal was a surety and thus no longer a reason to persevere.”

Caleb frowned at that. “She’d told me that all of society thought her a jilt… and fickle. I assume he had something to do with that?”

“Indeed. He had no concern for her, didn’t fear that she was unwell or think to ask after her welfare. Instead, he turned on her like a jackal and incited all the gossips to do the same.”

He was quiet for a moment, considering all that. Finally, Caleb asked the pertinent question, “Did she tell you why she wished to cry off? Specifically, that is.”

“No. She simply said she had no wish to marry a man whose affections were merely feigned and would provide no further details on the matter. I must say that she was quite firm… and he did not take it well. He ranted and raved to anyone who would listen about how she had wronged him—ruined him, even. It was the first indication he’d given that perhaps Marina’s fortune was what had attracted him rather than Marina herself.”

Caleb tucked that information away, knowing that it would be something he would need to tread very carefully around. “Do you think he would be out for revenge?”

“Possibly. If I’d understood the nature of his character, I’d have never given my consent to start. So it’s anyone’s guess,” Lord Deveril said with a shrug. Then he leaned in, his expression taking on a shrewd quality. “Presently, I’m less concerned about his character than about yours.”

Caleb didn’t take offense. Under the circumstances, if the man wasn’t concerned about what manner of gentleman he was, he would have been a fool. “I can assure you that, while marriage is a necessity for me to secure my own fortune, I’ve no interest in hers.”

Lord Deveril tapped his fingertip on the documents spread out on his desk. “Indeed, your proposed terms for the marriage contract have illustrated that quite well. In fact, those very generous terms are the primary reason I am inclined to accept the match. I wanted her to marry for love, but barring that, I would like her to marry someone whom I can trust to provide and care for her.”

“I have every intention of doing so. And for the record, I had a brief exchange with Miss Ashton in the ballroom and was set on approaching Viscount Seaburn to make a formal introduction. I had already set my mind to pay court to her. I would have pursued her as my bride regardless of the circumstances of her birth… These circumstances have simply hastened the pace at which this particular course is being run.”

*

Devil leaned back in the heavily upholstered leather chair at his desk and stared at the man before him with no small amount of concern. But there was also a bit of hope. Marina had not seriously entertained even one suitor since her broken engagement to Stanford Williams. In truth, he’d thought perhaps she’d sworn off the notion of marriage altogether. Whatever had prompted her sudden willingness to walk down the aisle again, he didn’t know. But if it were simply the scandal, pigs would fly. It had to be something about the man in front of him.

Objectively, he was handsome enough if a bit rough around the edges. And perhaps that was his appeal, Devil thought. Perhaps Marina was attempting to marry a man as different from her former betrothed as possible. Stanford Williams was the antithesis of rough around the edges. The man had been as smooth as any charlatan peddling tonics and magic elixirs. To his mind, St. Aiden was by far the better choice. But it was all so very fast. The idea that she might marry in haste and then live a life filled with regret ate away at him. She’d suffered too much unhappiness and difficulty in her young life already. And from the moment she had come into his care, her happiness had always been his priority.

Thinking about Williams, he frowned. He didn’t know the specifics of her reasons for crying off, but he knew that they’d hurt her terribly. Some of the light had gone out of her eyes since then. Her insistence on remaining unattached had caused a stir, to say the least, and gossip had been very unkind. It, along with the many scandals already shadowing her, had marked her in the eyes of society and she had suffered since. But this man before him seemed not to care at all about society. It was yet another point in his favor, and those were beginning to stack up rather nicely.

Devil retrieved the sheaf of papers St. Aiden had given him earlier. The settlement offer that had been drafted was a generous one. More generous than he could have imagined. The man was clearly very wealthy. “What are you getting out of this? Other than my niece, of course.”

The earl was quiet for a moment. “My uncle’s will left specific stipulations for me. The title is mine, of course, as are the estates. But to claim the bulk of his wealth, which is necessary to support those estates, I have to marry—a society miss from London with at least some tenuous connection to the aristocracy—criteria which Miss Ashton fits to the very last. While I am far from a pauper, the obligations of being a significant landowner… well, the taxes alone would beggar me.”

Devil was not surprised by his answer. It had long been a way to bring young men to heel—contingencies upon their inheritance. In truth, he was relieved to know that this man would be honest with him about such things. But was he honest with Marina?

As if he’d read Devil’s thoughts, the earl said, “Miss Ashton is aware of these stipulations. I felt it was for the best to be entirely forthcoming about such matters.”

Devil couldn’t disagree. While nothing about the earl seemed questionable, the man was still largely unknown to them. “The settlement then is contingent upon meeting the terms of the will, but this offer is made without contingency. So where does your wealth come from?”

“It isn’t attached to the title,” the earl responded. “It comes from the dirty coal fields that so many in the upper classes look down upon. It may be hard, filthy work, but it can be quite lucrative.”

“I’ve invested in a few mines myself,” Devil said. “Not to the same degree that you are involved with them, apparently. But I can attest to their lucrativeness. I am quite pleased with what you’ve offered here. It’s generous. Incredibly so. But unnecessary. I’ve provided a generous settlement for Marina. It has always been my intent that she be well taken care of regardless of the wealth and station of whomever she married.”

“Then we are of like mind. If you are amenable to the terms presented, you may have the marriage contract drawn up. You can, of course, include a clause disavowing any financial ramifications should Marina elect not to go through with the wedding. I would also ask that you include stipulations that any funds she brings into the marriage are hers alone.”

Lord Deveril tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I account myself, barring that one failure with Mr. Williams, to be a very good judge of character, St. Aiden. And however this all occurred, your actions have offered me some peace of mind. It is that, and not your generosity with this settlement, which sways me. I will have the contract sent round to you tomorrow… Eaton Square?”

“Yes, Lord Deveril… You may account yourself to be a good judge of character, but it never hurts to get all the information.”

Devil shrugged, quite unapologetic for having snooped. “I spoke with friends about you. That none of us have heard your name bandied about was certainly a mark in your favor. You’ve been in town for a month. That would have been enough time to make yourself known in disreputable company if you were inclined to indulge in drinking, gaming and… other activities. Your frequent companion, Mr. Danvers, is another matter. He’s been making quite the reputation for himself.”

St. Aiden sighed heavily and there was a flash of something—annoyance, perhaps disappointment—in his eyes. “Jacob is his own man. We have been friends since childhood, but I confess that he seems like a stranger to me now. As for my only misstep—to date, at least—has been the misunderstanding with Lady Crowden. But depending on how this all sorts itself out, it remains to be seen whether it was a misstep at all… If it’s amenable to you, and Miss Ashton consents, I’d like to take her to the theater tonight.”

“Willa and I shall escort her, but you are certainly welcome to join us in our carriage… I think, after today’s events, it would be best if the pair of you did not travel alone together,” Deveril explained. “There is safety in numbers, after all. Another pair of eyes to help discern where any threat is coming from might be an added benefit. After all, you cannot watch everyone, and we must determine which of the pair of you is the intended target.”

Caleb saw the wisdom of his words. In truth, he even agreed with them, but he didn’t like them. Not at all. The degree to which it perturbed him to have his time with her so curtailed was astonishing. But some time with her, even in the company of others, was better than nothing. He nodded, offered his thanks, and took his leave.