The Truth About Lord Stoneville (27 page)

But he could tell she was merely trying to distract him. She was in trouble. That was unacceptable. And a husband’s first duty was to get his wife out of trouble. “It damned well isn’t nothing if Pinter is itching to talk to you about it. Tell me what has happened.”

“I’d rather not.”

He pinned her beneath him with a warning glance. “I told you what you wanted to know about me. Now it’s your turn.”

She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “You must promise not to do anything about it.”

“I’m not promising that, angel. You know better.”

“Then I’m not telling you,” she said with a familiar set of her jaw.

“Then I’ll have to ask Pinter to tell me, won’t I?” He pushed himself off her and threw his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Wait!”

He turned to stare at her, one eyebrow lifted.

“You are such a curst arrogant—”

“Yes. What happened with Hyatt?”

Muttering an oath, she threw her head back against the pillow and dragged the sheet over her naked body.

As she related a tale of remarkable deception, he could scarcely contain his anger. But when she got to the part about Hyatt threatening a breach of promise suit, his blood roared in his ears. Rising from the bed, he said, “I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

“No, you will not!” she cried as she pulled him back down. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. If you get involved, it will only make it worse. I am
not
going to let Nathan steal my half of New Bedford Ships, and I’m
not
going to let you blunder in there in a rage at him, giving him an excuse to do so!”

“So how do
you
propose to handle this?” he clipped out.

“Mr. Pinter is going to hire an attorney, and I propose to let them handle it.”

Oliver scowled. “As your husband, I should have a say in it.”

“You’re not my husband yet,” she countered. “And you will not
be
my husband until this matter is resolved. I don’t want to see you or your family dragged into it.”

“That’s our choice, is it not?”

“It’s my choice,” she said, stubborn as ever. “You’ve all been very kind to me—I don’t wish to embroil you in a potential scandal. You have quite enough attached to your names as it is.”

Casting her a searching glance, he said, “Very well.” He had no intention of staying out of it. But clearly she would do everything in her power to keep him from confronting Hyatt, and she could be quite persistent when she had the bit between her teeth. So he’d have to change strategies—get her sufficiently relaxed so he could slip out and take care of the bastard on his own.

He bent to kiss her, but she pushed against him, eyeing him with suspicion. “Do you promise to leave it to me and the lawyers?”

With a noncommittal grunt, he began to suck at her breast.

“Oliver—” she began in a warning tone.

“I promise not to throttle him until you give me permission to do so.” That he could promise. No more.

As he tugged at her nipple with his teeth, he rubbed his swiftly hardening cock against her soft flesh, and her eyes heated instantly. At the moment, he was grateful for his hard-won prowess with women. It might buy him the time he needed for doing what he must, without having to lie to her and tromp on her delicate sense of morality.

“And do you . . . promise not to interfere in any other way?” she asked, though her body was responding quite eagerly to his attentions.

“All these promises you wish to exact from me,” he drawled as he reached down to fondle her, reveling when she gasped. “I will be much more amenable to making them, angel, if you . . . soften me up.”

A reluctant smile touched her lips. “Will you, now?”

“Oh, yes.” Pulling her knees up, he entered her swift and sure, his hard thrust angled perfectly to rouse her. He was rewarded when she arched her back with a moan, then squirmed beneath him.

Oliver used every sensual technique he knew to satisfy her, and when they both lay spent, he pretended to fall asleep. Before long she dozed. Slipping from the bed, he watched her carefully for any signs of waking as he drew on his clothes. Fortunately, she’d probably had little rest the night before, so by the time he was dressed, she was soundly out.

Fighting a breach of promise case in the courts might take years, not to mention involve Maria and her family in all sorts of nastiness. It was time he proved to her that he could take care of her. That he could be the man she wanted him to be, the man who could be worthy of her love.

He knew how to handle men like Hyatt. Not for nothing had he been raised the grandson of Hetty Plumtree.

Unfortunately, there was only one way to be sure the man stayed out of her life for good. Patting his coat pocket to make sure it still contained the velvet jewel box, he headed off to find Nathan Hyatt.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Maria was dreaming about her bedchamber in Halstead Hall when something awakened her. She lay there in a half doze, a smile curving her lips. Oliver loved her. He truly loved her. It had been there in every kiss, every caress, every sweet word he’d whispered as they’d made love. Twice. With great enthusiasm, not to mention creative technique.

Heat rose in her cheeks. Apparently there were quite a number of things she didn’t know yet about lovemaking. But she was very willing to learn. Oh yes. Now that Oliver had put his past behind him and they were to be married, she was blissfully content.

She turned over to tell him so, but he was gone. Bolting upright, she gazed about the room. Where was Oliver?

A pounding began on the door, and she realized what had awakened her—a knock at the door. “Mopsy! You have to let us in!”

Great heavens, Freddy was outside and Mr. Pinter was probably with him. And she was naked as the day she was born!

“Wait a minute—I’m coming!” Swiftly she threw on her shift and her wrap, then dashed about gathering up her clothes. There was no sign of Oliver’s. She tossed her garments behind the dressing screen in the corner and hurried to open the door.

Though Freddy stormed into the room without a thought, Mr. Pinter turned beet red when he saw her state of undress.

“Forgive me, I was napping,” Maria darted behind the screen to dress. “Have you seen Lord Stoneville?” She had a sneaking suspicion where he might have gone, which concerned her more than her reputation.

“Stoneville’s in Southampton?” Mr. Pinter asked, his voice disapproving.

She glanced at him over the top of the screen. “Yes. He came looking for me. You didn’t meet up with him anywhere?”

“I didn’t see him,” Mr. Pinter said. “Did you, Freddy?”

Freddy shook his head.

He’d undoubtedly gone off to fight with Nathan. “We have to find him. He was not happy about my coming here to see Nathan, and I fear he might try to confront him himself.”

“So you decided to take a nap while he did?” Freddy asked.

Leave it to Freddy to pay attention the
one
time that she least needed him to notice. “No, silly. He told me he would wait downstairs for you to return, and I should rest until then. I was so tired that I let him persuade me to do so.”

That was nearly the truth, except that his persuasion had taken the form of wearing her out in bed, then waiting until her two days of little sleep overtook her before he snuck out, the devious devil.

Her only solace was that he didn’t know where Nathan was. But it wouldn’t take him long to find out; he’d found
her
well enough.

“Freddy,” she called over the screen, “could you fetch me a maid to help me finish dressing?”

Freddy exchanged a glance with Mr. Pinter. “Actually, Mopsy, there’s a lady here I’d like you to meet. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind helping you dress.”

Stepping into the hall, he ushered in a pretty young woman with strikingly beautiful gold ringlets that she wore in a fringe about her face. Maria couldn’t help noticing that Freddy seemed oddly solicitous of her.

“Now, Mopsy,” he began, “before I introduce you, I think you should know that the lady had no idea of what was going on, and she was just as much in the dark as you, only—”

“Freddy, get to the point,” she snapped, more frantic to find Oliver by the moment.

“This is Miss Jane Kinsley.”

Who the dickens . . . ohhh, Miss
Kinsley. Nathan’s
Miss Kinsley.

“Miss Kinsley,” Freddy said to the woman with the pinkening cheeks, “this is my cousin, Miss Maria Butterfield.”

“Nice to meet you,” the woman said, bobbing a curtsy. “We don’t get many Americans hereabouts. I only know three now. You, Mr. Dunse, and Mr. Hyatt.” She didn’t seem terribly perturbed to be in the same room with her apparent rival, though perhaps the men hadn’t explained that fully to her.

“Miss Kinsley and I met in the pie shop,” Freddy offered. “She likes pie as much as I do.”

“Especially kidney pie,” she offered, “though I do fancy leek pie once in a while.”

She and Freddy looked at each other and burst into laughter.

“Leek pie,” Freddy said, still chuckling. “That’s rich.”

Maria cast Mr. Pinter a bewildered glance.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Mr. Pinter said with a roll of his eyes. “Apparently your cousin and Miss Kinsley struck up quite the conversation in the pie shop after she overheard him asking about Mr. Hyatt.”

“It was very fortui- . . . fortui- . . . ” Miss Kinsley paused, a tiny frown knitting her brow as she glanced at Mr. Pinter. “What was that word you used?”

“Fortuitous.”

Heavens alive. Freddy had stumbled upon a woman as thick-headed as he was. With a love of pie, too. What were the chances?

Maria
almost
felt sorry for Nathan, if Miss Kinsley was his new choice for a wife. Though she could see why he’d chosen the woman. She was young, pretty, oblivious, and had a rich father.

Nathan clearly had a talent for finding that sort of female to prey on. It mortified her that she had been one of them.

Still, much as she’d like to stab Nathan through the heart, she had to deal with him, which meant she had to stop Oliver from dealing with him before he made a mess of things. “Miss Kinsley, if you would be so kind, might you help me dress?” she asked.

Miss Kinsley blinked. “Oh! Yes, of course.”

As the young woman helped her, Freddy and Mr. Pinter began to talk. Freddy had apparently been busy during her time with Oliver. Not only had he met Miss Kinsley, but he’d become quite chummy with her. She’d been shocked to learn that her suitor had a fiancée. She’d been even more shocked to learn that he’d lied to her papa about his business.

Freddy had brought her back to the inn, but finding Maria and Mr. Pinter gone, had left the pies there. He’d suggested that they talk to her parents about the dastardly Mr. Hyatt, but neither was home. Mr. Kinsley was at a board meeting out of town, and Mrs. Kinsley was shopping.

She and Freddy had gone off looking for her mother, and that’s how Mr. Pinter had found them, wandering the streets, thoroughly engrossed in each other’s company. Since time was of the essence, Mr. Pinter had hurried them back to the inn while telling them everything that had transpired so far. Clearly Mr. Pinter realized that Miss Kinsley’s parents might not be quite so eager to help them as the young woman seemed to be.

Uncomfortable with how Freddy and Mr. Pinter had commandeered the lady, Maria took Miss Kinsley’s hands. “I know this is probably very upsetting, and I’m sorry you had to hear about Mr. Hyatt’s character in such a frightful manner.”

“It’s all right,” Miss Kinsley said blithely. “I was already wondering about him, to be honest.”

“So you’re not in love with Mr. Hyatt?” Maria pressed her, wanting to be very sure about that.

“Lord, no. I hardly know him.” She screwed up her face in thought. “Besides, he likes to say things I don’t understand. He’s too clever for me. And when I ask him to explain, he treats me like a child. I’m
not
a child. Sometimes I just need things explained to me.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Freddy put in. “Everybody needs things explained from time to time.”

Mr. Pinter looked as if he were struggling to keep a straight face.

“But you haven’t heard the best part, Mopsy,” Freddy exclaimed, practically dancing. “Tell her, Miss Kinsley. Tell her the best part!”

As the young woman laid out “the best part,” Maria gaped at her. Clearly Miss Kinsley wasn’t as brainless as Maria had assumed. Her news changed everything.

“If you had to,” Maria asked, “would you be willing to repeat that in a court of law?”

“I don’t think we need wait for that,” Mr. Pinter said. “I daresay we can use the information right now.”

Maria met the runner’s gaze. “You mean—”

“Yes. It’s time we pay Mr. Hyatt another visit.”

“Do you mind coming with us, Miss Kinsley?” she asked. “I know it’s a great imposition.”

“It’s no imposition at all.” With a fetching blush, Miss Kinsley cut her eyes at Freddy and said, “It’s the right thing to do.”

“And I’ll be there to protect you both,” Freddy said, laying his hand on the sword at his side.

“You can only go if you leave the sword here,” Maria chided as she swept out from behind the screen. Then she thought a moment. If Oliver had found Nathan . . . “On second thought, we might need it.”

She headed for the door, then paused to hug Miss Kinsley. “Thank you.”

The young woman beamed. “You’re welcome.”

Maria glanced to Freddy. “And thank you, too, cousin.”

He took a typical male posture, though his ears grew red. “Think nothing of it, Mopsy. A man does what he must to protect his family.”

But sometimes a little intervention from Fate didn’t hurt either. Now if only Fate would keep Oliver from Nathan. The last thing she wanted was to watch the love of her life be hanged for murder.

Unfortunately, when they arrived at Nathan’s lodging house, they learned that Oliver had already arrived. The owner appeared disgruntled by all the attention his American man of business was garnering. He directed them back to the parlor, where the men had repaired only minutes before.

Her heart in her throat, Maria hurried ahead. Before she even reached the open door, she heard Oliver say, “It’s the best offer you will get, Mr. Hyatt. I advise you to take it.”

She paused to listen, motioning the others to do the same. Peeking around the edge of the doorway, she saw Oliver faced off against Nathan. Nathan’s gaze was fixed on the contents of a familiar velvet box held open in his hand.

“And how do I know I can trust you concerning the value of the pearls, sir?” Nathan asked Oliver.

Oliver was going to give up his mother’s necklace to that scoundrel? Not if she had anything to say about it!

She started to march in, but Mr. Pinter laid a restraining hand on her arm.

“Any man with an eye for quality can tell their value.” Oliver’s voice dripped condescension.

A rueful smile touched her lips. Oliver could be very good at that when he wanted to be.

“But if you insist upon it,” he continued in that bored tone, “we can go to a jeweler and have him second the appraisal.”

“It’s worth five thousand pounds, you say? That is quite a nice consideration.”

Maria sucked in a breath. Five thousand pounds? Her half of the company was only worth about forty thousand pounds. As a bribe, five thousand pounds was quite a ‘nice consideration’ indeed.

“It’s better than you deserve,” Oliver drawled. When Nathan bristled, Oliver added, “I assure you that if you pursue a breach of promise suit against Miss Butterfield, you’ll regret it. Lawyers are costly, even in America. They can effectively eat up whatever settlement you might receive.”

Then menace filled his voice. “And courts are fickle, too. You might not win your suit, and even if you do, the publicity surrounding it could do irreparable harm to your present deal with Mr. Kinsley. Meanwhile, the pearls should prove enough surety to get you whatever loan you need to purchase Miss Butterfield’s half of the company. With the profits you make from your arrangement with Mr. Kinsley, you should be well settled.”

His gaze sharpened. “But there are two conditions. One, Miss Butterfield must never know of the financial part of the arrangement between us. You will tell her that while it breaks your heart to let her go, you don’t wish to marry a woman who clearly isn’t eager for the match.”

Nathan thrust out his chin. “Maybe it does break my heart.”

“Yes,” Oliver said in a tight voice. “I can see how much you suffer.” When a flush rose in Nathan’s cheeks, he added, “Two, if you choose to purchase her half of the company, you’ll offer her a fair price. Is that understood?”

“I wouldn’t cheat her,” Nathan said resentfully, clearly intimidated. Nathan’s family might have status and connections in America, but they were nothing to the connections of a British peer, and he undoubtedly knew it.

But he appeared to have guessed something else, too, for his eyes narrowed. “I think I have the right to ask, my lord, why you show such interest in Maria’s situation.”

“When she and her cousin were in difficult straits in London, my family took her in. I fell in love with her. I intend to marry her.
If
she will have me.”

The words, so quietly and eloquently spoken, caught at her heart.

Unfortunately, they also caught at Nathan’s greed. “Ah, now I understand. You want to get your hands on her fortune yourself. And if that happens, it seems to me this little arrangement could be . . . improved a bit.”

Though a muscle ticked in Oliver’s jaw, he in no other way showed his anger. “First of all, Miss Butterfield has not agreed to marry me, since she was still betrothed to you when I made my proposal. I do this for her because she doesn’t deserve to be plagued by your lawsuit or suffer whatever slings you mean to throw at her publicly.” Oliver flicked a piece of lint from his well-tailored coat. “And secondly, do I
look
as if I need money?”