Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series) (17 page)

Ludlow laughed heartily.

Marcus continued, “But today’s visit is about something else entirely.”

“Ah,” Benjamin said, adjusting his glasses, “then what is it I can help you with? Are you in some kind of legal trouble?”

“Nothing of the sort. Today’s visit is to see what you know about Commodore Stanhope. He’d been living in New York for several years, and then was preparing to sail home to be with his family when the dreaded Captain Hawk captured his ship and killed him.”

Benjamin grinned. “You don’t say.”

“Recently, I met his daughter who came to New York to settle her father’s affairs. Knowing the Commodore like I do, I fear his daughter will find nothing when she looks into her father’s business adventures. Do you think I’m correct?”

“You are a very good judge of character, Marcus. Commodore Stanhope was a greedy bugger, to be sure, but unfortunately his solicitor was even greedier. Word on the street is that when the Commodore prepared to sail back to London, he only took a few things of value. I suppose he was prepared to tell his daughter he’d been robbed or some ungodly story to make him look like the victim. Stanhope’s solicitor was put in charge of Stanhope’s estates, which the Commodore didn’t want his daughter to know about, but when report came of his death, the solicitor took everything and skipped town.” Benjamin shrugged. “That man has disappeared off the face of the earth, I tell you. I fear not even Miss Stanhope will be able to locate him.”

Marcus relaxed back in his chair, rubbing his forehead. “I suspected as much.”

“So tell me, is Stanhope’s daughter anything like her father?”

Chuckling, Marcus shook his head. “When I first met her, I didn’t believe she was anything like her old man. She had a kind heart. A passionate soul. I wanted to help her, in fact, so I gave her your name.”

Benjamin’s eyes widened. “My name, you say?”

“Yes, so you may help her with her father’s estates.” Marcus tilted his head. “Has she not been in to see you?”

“No, she has not, but I’ll certainly watch for her.”

“Thank you, my good friend, but it sounds like you may not be much help to her even if she seeks you out.” He stood and placed his hat on his head. “Will you inform me if she does come? I’ll be curious to know.”

“Of course.” Benjamin stood and moved around his desk, walking Marcus to the door. “It has made my heart glad to see you again.”

“As mine.” Marcus opened the door and stepped out, only to nearly run into someone marching up the walkway, all fluffed lace skirts and petticoats and acting like she owned the place. He jumped back and politely removed his hat. “Pardon me—” His breath caught in his throat as recognition hit.

Chapter Eleven

Marcus blinked, not believing his eyes. The older woman standing just in front of another, glared at him.

“Will you please excuse us, Sir,” Mrs. Winters snapped. “You’d think me and my lady were spirits the way you almost walked right through us.”

He bit his lip so he wouldn’t say anything too rude. His character didn’t talk like Captain Hawk did when expressing his thoughts. Captain Hawk wouldn’t have tolerated the older companion’s rude behavior. When he looked past Mrs. Winters to Miss Stanhope, all thoughts vanished. Meek and reserved, she stood behind her companion, her eyes downcast as a frown pulled at her mouth. His heart wrenched, knowing he’d contributed to her pain. Nonetheless, it had to be done.

In the silence, Isabelle’s gaze slowly rose to meet his before she moved her attention to the office and walked inside. When she passed by, he closed his eyes and inhaled her sweet scent of roses. He recalled this fragrance the first day they met, but after that her scent had disappeared.

She looked lovely, as always. Her hair swept into ringlets that framed her face while the bulk of it curled into a bun at the top of her head. Along her neck, two large ringlets rested, making him want to stroke her hair to see if it was as silky as he remembered.

How he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and protect her. Luckily, his mind was alert and reminded himself how the deceitful woman had played him for a fool.

Taking slower breaths, he steadied his heartbeat, realizing she didn’t recognize him as being Captain Hawk. Thank goodness for small favors. In a way he’d hope to see some spark of interest in her eyes, but she literally looked right past him as if
he
were the ghost.

“Once again, excuse me ladies.” He bowed and let them proceed inside. When he raised his head, Benjamin met his stare. Silently, Marcus tried to communicate who these ladies were and hoped his old friend would understand. Finally, the older man gave Marcus a nod.

As he made his way out to the street to locate a driver, his heart hammered in a quick rhythm. How could that woman still affect him this way? He’d seen lovelier woman in his lifetime. Or had he?

A coach stopped in front of him and he climbed inside. After instructing the driver where to take him, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. Confusion flowed thick through him, and he wanted it to stop. He couldn’t appease his interest with Isabelle any longer. Plain and simple, if he couldn’t trust her, he couldn’t have her.

But there wasn’t anything simple about the way his memory wouldn’t stop thinking about all those times with her. When would this torture end? If he couldn’t control it soon, it would take over him body and soul, and render him utterly useless. Being in that condition wasn’t a good thing when he led a double life. If he wanted to protect his identity, he must guard his heart.

Marcus returned to work, but couldn’t concentrate. Worries about his upcoming meeting with Viscount Lockwood clouded his mind. Silent warnings raced through his ears that their meeting might be a fateful situation. Trying his best to ignore the way his stomach clenched and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, he continued to read through his missives and then the company’s books.

Later that evening, a note came from a delivery boy. Marcus quickly paid the lad, then read. In Gabe’s own handwriting, the note said he hadn’t discovered much information about Viscount Lockwood, except the man was underhanded and deceitful. The bloke had a way with women and seemed to know how to charm widows into giving him money or land. Apparently, the viscount was quite a frequent patron of the gaming tables, too.

Although Gabe didn’t know this, what he’d discovered about the viscount was extremely helpful. Now Marcus knew the man was nearly exactly like Commodore Stanhope and not to be trusted. This would make things easier in Marcus’ dealings.

The night passed quickly, and soon he was dressed in his best clothes, and driving a rented buggy to Viscount Lockwood’s estate the next afternoon. He gripped the reins harder, hoping he wasn’t presented the chance to throttle the man. Marcus despised deceitful men. Too high and mighty for his tastes, and most of them hid behind their wealth and title. Like his own father. Low-life cowards, all of them.

It didn’t take long for him to pull up along side the estate, and Marcus received his first look at what Isabelle might marry into. The two-story, red-bricked home held two separate wings. Palladian windows with shutters were arranged symmetrically around a center doorway while narrow side windows flanked the frame. If the inside of the house was as grand as the front, Marcus was certain a duke could live here.

For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted a house like this. At first, he couldn’t even dream of living in such luxury. As a grown man, he was able to afford such lavishness, but could not afford to draw suspicion to his double life. Showing off his wealth wasn’t worth being hanged.

He climbed down from the carriage, walked to the front door and rapped. A butler greeted him with a slight bow, but when the older man’s eyes met his, they widened in obvious bewilderment.

“I am Marcus Thorne and have an appointment to see Viscount Lockwood at one o’clock,” Marcus explained, not knowing why the servant would act in such a manner.

“Uh…” His Adam’s apple jumped. “Indeed you do, Sir. Please follow me.”

As the butler led him to what looked to be the viscount’s study, Marcus noticed the old man repeatedly peeked over his shoulder at him. The servant didn’t say what he found so interesting about Marcus, and this wasn’t the right time to ask.

“Viscount Lockwood will be with you momentarily, Sir.”

The servant gazed upon Marcus with a critical eye before turning and walking out of the room. Very strange behavior. Marcus, however, had more important things to worry about than a servant’s reaction.

He moved a curious gaze over every stitch of furniture and painting in the room. Traveling around the world, Marcus had seen his share of expensive luxuries, and Viscount Lockwood was certainly a collector of fine pieces. A knot twisted in Marcus’ stomach. How many people did Lockwood swindle to get these lovely works of art?

At least if Isabelle married the viscount, she wouldn’t have to worry about being penniless ever again.

Dread churned in his stomach with the thought. Deep in his heart, he didn’t want Isabelle to marry the lord. The viscount wouldn’t take care of her or give her the love she needed.

Shaking his head, Marcus threaded his fingers through his hair and walked to the window to peer outside. Why did he even care? She was the spy who’d tried to kill him. Perhaps she and the viscount made a perfect match after all.

“I must say, seeing you in person has answered all my questions.”

What an odd thing to say
, Marcus mused as he swung toward the man’s voice. Lord Lockwood was dressed like a colorful butterfly with an array of different silks and satins. He wore a traditional white wig hiding the true color of his hair, but when Marcus met the man’s stare head-on, the breath caught in Marcus’ throat as all blood drained from his body.

The face looking back at him was his own.

The business satchel Marcus had carried fell from his hands and clunked to the wooden floor as he stared at his twin. It seemed bad fortune clouded Marcus’ life once again.

Chuckling, his brother shook his head and closed the door before ambling to the liquor tray. He splashed brandy into a glass before gulping it back.

“For several years I’d wondered what happened to you.” Matthew Winston arched his eyebrow. “I remember having a brother as a lad, but when you disappeared without any explanation, I convinced myself it had all been a dream.”

Marcus bunched his hands at his side, holding in his temper. “Didn’t Father tell you?”

Matthew shrugged. “He eventually told me my sickly brother had died. I believed it up until two years ago when I took up residence in New York. Reports came in from friends who said they saw a man who looked just like me working down by the docks.”

“I wish I’d received the same reports, dear brother.” Then again, Marcus had never stayed on land for very long until becoming a highwayman.

Matthew poured more liquor into his glass. “But we don’t move in the same circle of friends, am I correct?” He sipped, meeting Marcus’ gaze over the rim of the glass. “Although I’ve heard you’re doing quite well for yourself as you own a large shipping company. I see you have taken on our maternal grandmother’s last name, too.”

“You heard correctly for once.”

Matthew cocked his head. “For once? When I have been misinformed?”

“Father makes it a habit of misinforming people when it suits him.” Marcus took a deep, cleansing breath. “When he told you I had died as a lad, he knew the truth. He’d sent the sickly son with our mother to the country to live with our grandmother. Father carted you off to London with him, forgetting about his other family. We were an embarrassment to him, apparently.” Marcus wouldn’t tell him how their father tried to kill him as a young man. At least not yet.

“And you have known the truth all this time?”

“Indeed, I have. Unlike our Father, Mother never once lied to me, rest her soul.”

Matthew frowned as a glare that had nothing to do with alcohol turned his eyes dark. Strange to think they were identical twins, yet at the moment, Marcus didn’t think he looked anything like his brother.

“Have you tried to talk with Father since he left?” Matthew asked. “Perhaps he had a reason for what he did.”

Marcus shook his head as he walked toward his twin. “Indeed, Father always has a reason for what he does. To answer your question, yes, I’ve tried to talk to the man, only to be turned away like some common pauper.” He stopped in front of his brother and folded his arms. “Father could only make room in his life for one son. Not two. Since I was dead in Father’s eyes, I took on my grandmother’s last name, knowing she wouldn’t disapprove of my decision.”

Nodding, Matthew turned and walked toward his desk, picking up the liquor bottle on the way.

“May I ask where you got the Lockwood title?” Marcus asked. “The last I’d heard you were Viscount
Brimberry
.”

“One of Father’s distant relatives died. I was the only male heir to pass the title to. I use Lockwood more than
Brimberry
. Besides that, the Lockwood title came with more money and lands. Suits me, don’t you think?”

Marcus couldn’t answer that politely, so he didn’t reply at all.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked for this meeting.”