Silent Revenge (9 page)

Jessica shook her head. “I’m afraid even His Grace’s powerful connections cannot save me. Here,” she said, seeing the disbelief on their faces. She reached into her reticule and handed Collingsworth the paper Ira had given her—the same paper the Earl of Northcote had crumpled and thrown to the floor. “This is what I will be worth on my twenty-fifth birthday. My father left all of this to me.”

Collingsworth smoothed the sheet, then scanned the figures, halting at the bottom of the page. “Bloody hell,” he whispered.

He lifted his gaze from the paper to her face, then back again. The look in his eyes was an open book. There was no misunderstanding his thoughts. He knew the danger she faced as well as she did.

She sat back, pale and exhausted. “My birthday is Friday.”

The duke stood. “Oh, Jessica…” The frown on his forehead deepened as he looked back at the figure at the bottom of the page.

“There’s nothing anyone can do,” Jessica said, trying to calm the fears screaming deep inside her. “Colin will never give up until he has control of the money. He intends to put me in an asylum. Ira found out he’s already started the proceedings.”

Melinda’s grip tightened on her fingers, and Jessica turned her head, unable to look at either of them. “I must leave,” she repeated. “It’s the only way. Even you cannot guarantee that the courts will not grant my stepbrother control over me. He is family, after all, the obvious choice to control Father’s wealth.”

No one spoke. Finally, the Duke of Collingsworth touched her arm again.

“Perhaps there is another way,” His Grace said. “Perhaps if you were to marry—”

Jessica emitted a small, choked laugh. “No. I have already exhausted that possibility.” She saw the question in their eyes, but could not admit to them that even a man who was desperate for a dowry and about to lose all had refused her.

Melinda squeezed Jessica’s fingers as she often did to indicate she needed Jessica to look at her.

“But—” she started, then stopped.

Her rounded mouth opened in surprise, and Collingsworth rose to his feet. He assumed a warrior’s stance as he faced the door, as if he thought he might need to protect them.

Melinda’s expression of concern deepened. Whatever disturbed them was cause for alarm. Times like this made her hate her deafness even more.

“What is it?” Jessica clutched Mel’s hands. “Has something happened?”

Jessica’s heart pounded in her throat. Something was wrong, she could see it on both of their faces. Feel the danger surround her.

“Someone is here,” Melinda said as her husband took one step toward the door.

The Earl of Northcote burst through the doorway with a very flustered doorman on his heels. Jessica couldn’t catch all the servant’s words, but she knew he was apologizing profusely for allowing the uninvited guest to invade their portals.

“What the hell have you done, Collingsworth?” Northcote bellowed as he entered the room. He came to an abrupt halt when he spied Jessica.

She couldn’t breathe. Her heart slammed against her ribs and then raced with the speed of a runaway horse and carriage.

The hooded scowl on his face deepened, and his piercing glare shot angry daggers meant to do harm.

From his look, Jessica could tell he’d spent as restless a night as she. In fact, she wasn’t quite sure it had not been worse. His disheveled appearance made him look more like a pirate on the open seas than a member of London’s elite. From the scorching look in his bloodshot eyes, Jessica was thankful there wasn’t a sword hanging at his side. She did not doubt he was angry enough to use it. Nor did she question on whom.

The two-day growth on his face and the errant lock of dark hair that curled on his forehead gave him a foreboding look. His white lawn shirt gaped open at the neck, showing that same triangle of golden-brown skin that had drawn her attention last night. It still exposed the same curling wisps of black hair. There was no gleaming white cravat at his neck, nor was there a waistcoat beneath the unbuttoned tailcoat. He was most improperly dressed for making a call.

High boots stretched to his knees, covering tight black breeches that hugged thick, muscular thighs. He looked ready to attack, but it was the knotted muscle in his jaw and the predatory expression on his face that caused her the most alarm. She could not tear her eyes from him.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised to find you here, Miss Stanton,” he said, taking a step closer. “But of course, we both know I am not.”

Collingsworth reached out his hand to grasp Northcote’s arm. “What is the meaning of this, Simon?” The earl twisted away and continued across the room until he stood in front of her.

“How easily the lies tripped off your tongue last night. Did you think me such a fool that I would believe even one word that spilled from your deceiving mouth?”

“Simon!” Collingsworth yelled. “Bloody hell, man. What is wrong with you?”

“There is nothing wrong with me, James. It’s the plan you and this pretty little liar concocted that has gone wrong.”

Jessica’s gaze darted from one face to the other, frantic to catch all that was being said. Heaven help her. They were talking too fast. And the Duke of Collingsworth didn’t look at her when he spoke.

“Melinda, take Jessica to my study. Simon and I have—”

“No!” Simon interrupted. “She will stay here.” He spun around to level His Grace a harsh look. “Why? Why did you send her to me last night when you knew I would not take your money?”

“Last night? Where did you see Jessica last night?”

Simon shook his head. His lips curled upward to form a bitter smile. “Don’t, James. Don’t play me for an ignorant fool. I’m wise to your scheme.”

“You’re not making sense, Simon. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Simon leaned down, his face just inches from hers. “You haven’t told him yet, my dear? He doesn’t know you’ve failed?”

Jessica looked into his eyes filled with anger and opened her mouth to speak. “Please, my lord,” she whispered. She was so tired and confused, she couldn’t think.

He reached out to her. He lifted his muscular hand from his side and touched her cheek. Dear God, she’d dreamt of that touch all night. She’d prayed to feel that strength again.

But she did not want to see the disgust and revulsion she saw in his eyes.

“Would you like me to tell His Grace that his plan went for naught? Would you like me to explain that even though I found you physically attractive and I truly enjoyed our passionate, yet all too brief, exchange, I would not play the beggar just to provide you with a husband?”

The room suddenly turned terribly warm. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t force the air into her body. The roar in her head and the bright lights that darted behind her eyes made her dizzy. She pushed his hand away and wiped the dampness from her forehead. She needed to get away from him.

From the corner of her eye, she knew Collingsworth was yelling. He grabbed Simon’s arm and tried to pull him away from her, but the earl twisted out of the duke’s grasp and continued to level his accusations.

“Or perhaps His Grace doesn’t know that you offered to sell yourself to me. Perhaps he doesn’t realize how desperate you are to trap a husband. Could it be he still thinks you came only to offer the money and not your body?”

Everything around her spun in dizzying circles. She felt strange—disoriented. She sprang from the sofa and rushed across the room, heedless of the obstacles in her path or the small table she knocked over in her escape. She had to get out.

But before she could reach the door, a strong arm reached out for her, bringing her to a halt. The viselike grip twisted her about and pulled her up against him. It was the same hard chest she’d struggled against last night. The same unyielding arms from which she had not been able to free herself.

Dear God. She could not let him humiliate her again.

She had no idea if her deafening cry was successful in escaping her body. She clamped her hands over her ears as her scream echoed inside her head. Then Jessica welcomed the blessed darkness that consumed her.

And she knew no more.

Simon caught her slender body just before she hit the floor and picked her up in his arms and held her. She weighed almost nothing. Her face was as white as the lace collar around her neck, and even the rosy lips he’d kissed last night had lost their color.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed.

She seemed so small and fragile. So helpless. Nothing like the proud woman who’d stormed from his house last night.

Simon laid her gently on the sofa against the wall and then raked his hand over his two-day stubble. “I didn’t mean to scare her,” he said to no one in particular.

Melinda gave Simon an angry glare as she raced past him toward Jessica.

Hell! Bloody hell!

Simon squeezed his eyes shut and ground the palms of his hands against his aching sockets.

“What did you mean when you referred to the lies Jessica had told you last night?” his friend said quietly from behind him. The tone of his voice was as deadly as a double-edged sword. Simon chose to ignore the danger.

“You should know. You’re the one who sent her.”

Simon heard the air hiss through James’s clenched teeth.

“Humor me, Simon. What happened between you two last night? Where could you have seen Jessica? She never leaves her home.”

“Well, she did last night. She came to see me at my town house. Where you sent her.”

Simon looked over at her. The color had not returned to her cheeks, but her breathing seemed a little more normal.

“What did she want with you?” James asked.

“She came to offer me the money you had given her. She showed me a piece of paper with an astronomical amount on it and told me it was all mine if I would only marry her.”

Simon lifted his head and faced his friend. The angry frown on James’s face punched him in the gut, but Simon refused to let it deter him. “When you told me you were as rich as Croesus you were not exaggerating, James. Did you honestly think it would take that much money to get me out of debt?”

“I had no idea how much it would take. I still do not. Did Jessica happen to tell you why it was so important that she have your name?”

“She claimed my name would protect her. A highly unlikely story about her stepbrother coming to claim the money.”

Melinda sent him a withering look. “I need to get another blanket,” she said, stomping past him.

James stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “My wife is very protective of her friends,” he said. The glare in his eyes leveled Simon with a dangerous look. “Do you know she’s deaf?”

“Yes. She was at least honest about that.”

A long moment of silence stretched between them as Simon turned back to the sofa and the girl who’d caused him such a restless night. “Why did you choose her, James? Could you find no one else?” Simon turned to face his friend. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out that you had sent her?” He braced his shoulders and filled his lungs with air. “Did you have to pay her much to sell her body and offer to become my wife?”

Before Simon knew what had happened, James’s fist careened into his jaw. The impact of the blow sent him flying through the air, coming to a stop only when his large frame crashed against the sturdy wall on the opposite side of the room.

Simon slid to the floor, his legs sprawled out before him. He rubbed his hand over his jaw, then moved it from side to side to make sure it still worked. Before he was steady enough to rise to his feet, the Duchess of Collingsworth walked through the door, carrying a blanket. She stepped over his feet without even a glance, then paused when she reached her husband and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, James,” she whispered, lowering a sideways glance to Simon’s prone body.

James shook his head as he looked at Simon, then held out his hand to help him up.

Simon reluctantly took his proffered help and crawled to his feet. He shook his head and walked over to the couch, still rubbing his sore jaw. “Which part of this story have I gotten wrong?”

“The whole bloody thing, Simon,” James answered, taking a cup of tea one of the servants had brought in and handing it to him.

“You mean you didn’t send her to me?”

“No. I did not send her.”

Simon stared at the tea swirling in his cup. “And her inheritance?”

James nodded. “She will receive every pound of it on Friday.”

Simon raked his fingers through his hair. “Bloody hell, James. What made her ask a complete stranger to marry her? Once word reached society’s ears, there would be no end to the line of suitors vying for her hand. Why did she come to me?”

“I think she had this misplaced idea you could protect her.”

“Protect her from…?” A fist of painful reality punched Simon in the gut. “Tanhill is really her stepbrother?”

James nodded once, then breathed a heavy sigh.

A reaction as severe as any Simon had ever experienced slammed through his body. He looked at the pale girl just beginning to stir. “Heaven help her.”

“No, Simon. I think heaven intends for you to help her. Perhaps heaven even intends for her to help you.”