Falling In Love Again (Heroic Rogues Series) (36 page)

* * * *

Marcus stumbled through the front door several hours into the night. The many cups of rum he’d consumed made his vision unfocused. Unfortunately, it didn’t take away the pain in his chest. He couldn’t accept he’d lost the one—the only woman—he’d ever loved. He had no idea how to win her back. Was it even possible since he’d hurt her so much?

Quietly as he possibly could, he walked toward the stairs. Before reaching his destination, the light from his study pulled him out of his thoughts. Somebody was there. Anger surged through him, and he marched down the hallway, pushed open the door and growled.

His father sat at the desk sorting through papers. The urge to grasp the old man and throw him to the floor became tempting, so Marcus fisted his hands behind his back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Lord Blackstone’s gaze lifted, a scowl marring his face. “I’m trying to find evidence.”

“Evidence for what, may I ask?”

The old man huffed and struggled to his feet. “I was told some shocking information earlier this evening. I don’t want to believe it, so I’m going through your papers to try and prove the informant wrong.”

Panic surged through Marcus, but the alcohol affect tried to push it aside. “What bit of information were you given?”

His father’s gaze narrowed as fire practically shot from his eyes. Marcus knew. He’d seen this look on his father before. Lord Blackstone only looked at the
sickly son
this way.

“I was told that you’re not my son, Matthew.” He hobbled toward him, his gaze darkening. “Are you?”

Marcus chuckled drunkenly. “Do you mean to tell me you cannot tell the difference between your wonderful, obedient Matthew, and the son you loathed?”

“
Augh
!” Lord Blackstone grasped Marcus’ shirt and shook him. “Curse you! Tell me now.”

“What difference would it make?” Marcus sneered. “Either way, I’m Lord Lockwood. Either way, I now hold all the wealth from the title. Either way, I have accomplished making a fool out of my father—the very thing I’ve sought to do for all these years.”

The old man gasped and released Marcus as if he were a roaring fire. Eyes wide, he stepped back. “Where is my son?”

Marcus threw back his head and released an evil laugh. “Oh, my poor father. Your son is where you will end up eventually.” He stepped closer and glared. “In hell!” He took another step, causing the old man to retreat slowly. “Your wonderful son couldn’t stand having his twin brother in the same city, so he decided to do the
gentlemanly
thing and kill me. Fortunately, I have friends who watch my back, and so dearest Matthew was shot and killed instead.”

Tears gathered in Blackstone’s eyes as he stumbled to the chair. He shook his head, clutching his cravat. “No. You’re lying.”

Marcus chuckled and walked to his desk, glancing at the papers his father had been looking at. “Tell me, dear Father, who informed you of my identity? Matthew’ staff didn’t even know the difference after I had stepped in my new role. If they did, they didn’t say anything because they liked their new lord better.”

“The person who told me doesn’t work for Matthew.”

Looking toward his father, he arched an eyebrow. “Indeed? So who is this trusted informant?”

“Someone who was just as shocked as I.” He stood again, his cane helping him. “Now the next question is, are you going to make me proud by following through with the plans for the
Sons Of Liberty
?”

“What plans?”

The old man titled his head. “You don’t know, do you?” He laughed. “Well, that makes this even better. Perhaps you’ll fall into the trap, as well.”
      

Chapter Twenty-Four

In three steps Marcus stood in front of his father, grabbed his shirt and shook him. “Tell me. What trap have you planned?”

Slowly, a grin stretched across the old man’s face until a full-blown laugh shook his chest. The eerie sound grated on Marcus’ nerves.

“You don’t deserve Lord Lockwood’s title,” his father spat.

Marcus pushed his father away, roughly. “You never deserved the title of Father.” He shook his head. “You’ll never know everything you put me through as a child, making me feel worthless in your eyes just because I was sick. However, because of your treatment, I was determined to grow into a strapping man who’d make you eat your words. Thanks to your treatment, I have become a great man. I vowed revenge against my uncaring father and others like him, and my revenge has made me a wealthy man.”

The older man’s face paled, all signs of humor disappeared. “It’s true then. You
are
the loathsome pirate and highwayman, Captain Hawk.”

Once more, panic settled in Marcus’ chest as blood rushed to his throbbing head. Who could have told his father? He swallowed a gasp. Surely not Isabelle. No, she wouldn’t have been that careless no matter how upset she had been by his lies. So then who? What imbecile had informed his father about his secret life? That person would die tonight, if possible.

“Loathsome? Aye, that I am.” Marcus closed the space between them and wrapped his fingers around the other man’s neck. “And I kill people who know about me whether they are family or not.”

His father gulped. “You cannot kill me.”

Marcus tightened his hold. “Watch me. As much hatred as you’ve instilled inside me these many years, I could break your neck in a second.”

The old man clawed at Marcus’ fingers, but he wouldn’t let go. The man deserved to die. Captain Hawk had been waiting for this opportunity for many years, and he squeezed a little harder. All his childhood memories rushed back, crippling his heart again. His father’s look of disdain, the irritation in his voice whenever he spoke to him, which wasn’t often, and the rude way he treated Marcus’ mother. All of this heartache could have been stopped a long time ago.

His father’s face turned purple as he struggled to breathe. The old man’s body becoming limper by the second. Marcus didn’t care. He wanted to watch his sire dire a slow death.

The soft pitter-patter of feet moved across the floor mere seconds before a soft hand touched his shoulder. “No, Marcus.”

He glanced at Isabelle standing beside him. Worry etched in her eyes as she shook her head. “Please don’t kill him.”

“You don’t understand. He doesn’t deserve to live. Captain Hawk cannot abide men like him.”

She stroked his arm in a calming motion. “I know, but Captain Hawk doesn’t kill in cold blood. Remember?”

Marcus stilled as he stared into her caring eyes. She was correct. She knew Hawk well. Isabelle slid her palm to his hand and pulled. He obeyed her silent command and released his father.

Disgust ran through him as he dropped his hands and stepped back. His father gasped for air and stumbled toward the couch. Once he was seated, he chuckled and shook his head.

“I’m surprised at you, Marcus.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “Indeed, you could have killed me with your bare hands, but you didn’t.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “I must have had an attack of scruples, because you deserve to die, old man.”

“Perhaps.” His father’s gaze bounced to Isabelle. “Thank you, my dear. You saved my life.”

Finally, Marcus realized what she wore. Standing next to him in her
nightrail
and wrapper, with her chestnut hair flowing freely over her shoulders and down her back, made an alluring silhouette. Had she heard the argument between him and his father? Was that why she came to help?

Her features hardened as she glared at Lord Blackstone. “I’m certain your life wasn’t worth saving. However, I couldn’t allow my husband to kill you.”

Marcus’ heart softened. She turned and met his gaze. Confusion still marked her expression through her troubled eyes.

“No, I couldn’t have killed him,” he whispered. He looked back at his father. “Although, I’m not going to let you leave knowing such vital information.”

Isabelle gasped. “Whatever are you talking about? I don’t want this man in our house.”

“He knows too much.” Marcus shook his head. “My father is itching to tell the King about Captain Hawk, and I’m
not
going to die at my father’s hand.”

She folded her arms and threw his father a glare. Taking slow steps, she moved toward Blackstone still on the couch. “Is this so? Will you take this information to the King?”

The older man lifted his chin, challenging her with his stare. “Of course I will. I’m dedicated to my country, and work only for King George.”

She
tsked
and shook her head. “Lord Blackstone, we cannot have that. By admitting this, you have surely secured your imprisonment, don’t you see?”

Blackstone narrowed his gaze. “What are you saying?”

Isabelle looked at Marcus. “I suppose you’ll have to take him to the hideout and lock him in the cellar with the rats until we can decide what to do with him.” She tapped her finger on her chin as if trying to think about the situation. “Perhaps we should see what the crew wants to do with him.”

Marcus’ mouth twitched as he held back from grinning. Could he love this woman more? If only they were alone, he’d take her in his arms and show her what she means to him. “You’re correct, my love.” Folding his arms across his chest, he looked at his father, now wide-eyed and mouth agape. “When one threatens the captain, he threatens the whole crew. It’s not only my life at stake, but theirs.”

“Exactly.” She nodded, a twinkle finally coming to her eyes.

He took calculated steps toward his father, narrowing his gaze, just like Captain Hawk would to any prisoner. “I suppose we’ll have to take him tonight where nobody will see.”

“Aye.” Isabelle walked closer to him. “My vote is to hang him on a tree by his toes and just let the wild animals have at him.”

Once again, Marcus tried not to grin, but this time he couldn’t help it, especially when more color disappeared from his father’s face. “Excellent idea. I’m quite certain the rest of the crew will want to do that, as well.”

Lord Blackstone shook his head. “You cannot take me prisoner. People know where I’m at. They will worry when they cannot find me.”

Marcus shrugged. “Then when they come looking for you, I’ll have to take them prisoner.” He grinned. “The more, the merrier, to be sure.”

The older man glared. “You will not get away with this. Mark my words.”

“Consider them marked, although they won’t do a bit of good.” As Marcus reached for him, his sire surprised him by bounding off the couch with more energy than expected. He shoved an elbow into Marcus’ chest and pushed past Isabelle in a rush to get to the door. She fell to the floor, crying out when she hit the ground then quickly cradled her wrist. Instead of going after his father, Marcus bent to help is wife.

“I’m fine. Stop your father. Now!”

Marcus rushed out the door, determined to keep his father from blabbing about his secret. Once in the hall, he stopped short. Gabe stood a few feet away, grasping Blackstone’s arms. The fierce expression on his friend’s face could kill any sane man.

His father gasped and clutched his chest. “I—I can’t—breathe.”

“I think you’re lying,” Gabe said with a deep growl.

Although Marcus wouldn’t put it past his father to use his illness as an excuse to be released, he didn’t think this was that time. The old man’s face turned gray, his lips growing bluer by the second.

Marcus ran to his sire, and yanked him out of his friend’s clutches. Blackstone fell, cradling his left arm. His gaze met his son’s, eyes wide with fright. Slowly, the man’s breaths weakened and he sagged against the floor. Marcus lifted him, studying him closely. Death filled his eyes, just as had happened when Matthew’ life slipped away.

Finally, the old man closed his eyes for the last time and took his final breath. Marcus couldn’t help the relief flowing through his body. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about his father any longer. Yet there was still that unknown person who knew Marcus’ secret and who had informed his father.

A soft hand touched his shoulders and her flowery scent filled his head. She knelt beside him.

“Is he dead?”

“Yes. He’s had a bad heart for years. It was only a matter of time.”

She blew out a heavy sigh. “It’s for the best, I suppose.”

Gabe bent to their level. “Do you want me to take care of him?”

Marcus shook his head. “Take him to his room, but I want to treat this as if he died in his sleep. We’ll announce his death in tomorrow’s newspaper and prepare for his funeral. I’ll contact my solicitor tomorrow, also.”

Gabe nodded, lifted the old man and carried him away. Marcus stood, pulling Isabelle with him. Tenderly, he took her hand and studied her delicate wrist. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “It’s just a sprain.”

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and led them back to the study, closing the door behind them. “Will you tell me the real reason you came to my aid tonight?”

A blush lit her face and she glanced at her hand. “I couldn’t sleep. I heard angry voices in this room and feared the worst.” She met his gaze again. “I’m happy you didn’t kill your father.”