A Kiss of Lies (8 page)

She pulled her fingers gently from his grasp and smiled. “I suspect I shall be busy settling Lily in. It will be strange and a bit scary, but exciting, for her on her first night on the ship. I’m unlikely to get her to sleep easily.” She turned and made her way to the door. She hesitated before leaving the room, and looked back at him over her shoulder. “But I thank you for the offer. Perhaps another night would be more suitable.” She gave him a look that sent his blood racing and his groin hardening. “For I do look forward to being completely satisfied …” She paused again. “By your stories, of course.”

With that she closed the door on his startled face.

As he sank back into his chair, a genuine smile of amusement broke upon his lips. What a prize Mrs. Sarah Cooper was going to be when he finally got her into his bed.

But not before he learned all her secrets. He did wonder, for a fleeting second, whether
the Duke or Simon had sent her to spy on him. But he couldn’t fathom why they’d bother. Stuck in Canada, he was no longer a threat to them, or Harriet.

No, he sensed that Sarah’s secrets were more personal in nature. He recognized a kindred wounded soul. The rush of protectiveness invading his empty soul surprised him. He didn’t like to think of anyone causing her pain.

She was too beautiful and compassionate to let anyone, or anything, destroy her. If she became his mistress, he vowed to protect her always. She would be his.

He rose to pour a brandy to take up to his room, for once not scared of sleep. He’d have no nightmares tonight. Tonight he’d dream of a fair-haired seductress, and relish the chase of making her his.

As he made his way up the stairs, he was pleasantly shocked to discover that for the first time in a long while he was genuinely happy.

The following morning it was a mad rush to get everything to the dock and loaded on the
Doreen
, a cargo schooner. Sarah was thankful for the glaring sun. It meant her large bonnet, pulled low over her face, protected her from any eyes that might be searching for her. She was determined to get on board and go below, remaining hidden from prying eyes until they sailed.

At this early hour, people on the docks were striding around purposefully, all the crew keen to get under sail, needing to make the mouth of the river to catch the evening tide.

She tried to keep her gaze from darting over the crowd. A shrewd observer might detect her nervousness, and their party didn’t need any more attention. Lord Markham, leaving York to return to England, was a drawing card for every man and woman on the docks. She neither wanted nor needed all this attention.

Christian pretended not to notice the stares. He gripped Lily’s hand as he strode along the dock with his head held high. Sarah followed behind, watching his legs encased in tight breeches tucked into shiny black Hessians, quite unable to take her eyes off the flap of his coat, knowing what lay underneath. Mentally she stroked the hard contours of his buttocks. She could recall—could re-create—the strong sensations she’d experienced when she’d touched his bare skin. That night in his bedroom, something buried deep inside her had surged to the surface and consumed her.

She wanted him.

As if sensing her wicked thoughts, Christian glanced over his shoulder. Their eyes fixed on each other, and his darkened to a deep forest green before Lily’s excited chatter stole his attention away from her.

This journey was going to be either hell or heaven. Probably a mixture of both if she was going to be stupid enough to give in to her growing desire.

Christian halted at the base of the gangplank. Lily was already hurrying up it. He stepped aside and allowed Sarah to precede him. As she moved past him, the heat of his large body and his sandalwood scent made walking up the rocking gangplank difficult, and she gripped the ropes for support. She could feel his eyes burning into her back and was ashamed at the way she swayed her hips provocatively for his benefit. A rush of irritation made her miss a step. It appeared she had no power over her body. Not as far as Christian was concerned, for sure.

Once everyone was on board, shouts rang out, ropes were cast off, and at last they were under way.

The schooner backed slowly away, and Sarah craved to go below deck to ensure she was out of sight, but a hitch in her plan was that Lily wanted to wave goodbye, and Sarah couldn’t think of any justification for leaving Lily on her own on deck. Christian, meanwhile, was busy with Captain Weatherspoon.

Lily was tearful at leaving Mrs. Hobson behind. The housekeeper was a born and bred Canadian and would not leave the country of her birth. Her husband was buried there, and she wanted to stay close to his grave. Christian had ensured that Mrs. Hobson had enough money to live out the rest of her life in comfort. The few remaining Pearson staff had been found other positions.

“Goodbye, York,” Lily cried into the humid air as she waved frantically from the railing. “I wonder if I’ll ever see Canada again.”

Sarah put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “You might come back one day when you’re older.”

Lily looked up at her. “Will I like England?”

“Well, the summers aren’t quite so hot.”

“That’s good,” Lily said, nodding.

“The winters are not as harsh. It very rarely snows in Dorset, but it’s a great deal wetter.”

She looked down and saw that Lily was no longer listening to her. Instead the girl was
pointing at something on the dock. “Look at that man. He’s running along the dock alongside the ship. Is he trying to chase us?” She laughed out loud and called over her shoulder, “He’ll never catch us, will he, Lord Markham?”

Sarah swung away from the railing at Lily’s words, worried that her bonnet did not offer enough of a disguise. She’d ensured her fair hair was safely coiled on top of her head, as her coloring was an easily recognizable trait.

This was ridiculous. There was no way they would have discovered that she’d come north to Canada. Zachary had covered her tracks well. Who would have guessed that the wife of a plantation owner would use the Underground Railroad and escape with runaway slaves? The only difference between her and the runaways was that even though she’d made it to Canada, she was still not free.

Nor would she ever be free.

Sarah’s panic grew and she stepped backward, determined to go below. However, she slammed up against a wall of solid muscle. Strong arms reached out to steady her.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Cooper?” Christian did not release her, and for a moment she grew dizzy from the heat and feel of his hands. She looked up at his face, but it was in the shadow of the upper cabin.

She pushed herself out of his hold and stepped back against the railing, her face hidden from those on the dock. “I’m fine, my lord. I was heading below deck to unpack. I’d like to get both my cabin and Lily’s sorted out before we reach the open ocean.” She nodded toward Lily. “Just in case.”

“In case what?” piped up Lily.

Christian caught on immediately. In case Lily got seasick. He winked at Sarah and held out his hand to Lily. “Let me escort you around the ship while Mrs. Cooper unpacks. I’ll show you where it is safe to play and the areas that are out of bounds.”

Feeling as if all the eyes on the dock were upon her, Sarah slipped down the hatchway and into the shady bowels of the ship. For once darkness was her friend.

“Was it her?”

The tall, bearded man known throughout the Lake Erie territory as “Find Them Jack” was one of the best slave trackers alive. He slowly turned his eyes away from the deck of the
departing
Doreen
and focused on the man behind him.

“I didn’t get a good look, but my instincts tell me it’s her.”

The other man cursed and swung away from the sight of the
Doreen
sailing up the river. “I have to be sure.”

Jack shrugged and spat. “I’m sure she’s on that schooner. She’s gone. The
Doreen
’s bound for England.”

The other man’s arm shot out to stop him from leaving. “How do I know you’re not lying? I’ve been tasked with bringing her back alive. What if she’s actually still in York?”

“She’s not. But you’re welcome to stay and look.” Jack stared hard at the man’s hand until he removed it from Jack’s arm. “Anyway, it’s not my problem anymore. My job was to find her in York. I’ve done that. My contract is complete.”

“A little late, though. I’m sure my boss will be none too pleased.”

Jack was a big man. Stretching to his full impressive height and flexing his wide shoulders, he uttered, in a tone that would scare the bravest of men, “If your boss has a problem with my services, tell him to come and see me.” Then he spun on his heel and walked away, calling over his shoulder, “You’d best check with the harbormaster as to what route they plan to take. The
Doreen
’s a cargo ship. They’ll likely be stopping along the way.”

The other man was pleased at how quickly Jack had found the woman. He’d made the right decision to employ Jack.

His anticipatory smile deepened upon hearing the ship would likely stop en route to England. He desperately wanted to catch her. Perhaps he hadn’t lost her yet. The monetary reward for her capture was immense.

With blood racing and heart pounding, he swung around and headed toward the harbormaster’s office. At the entrance, he turned and watched the
Doreen
disappear around the bend in the river before ambling in through the open door and speaking to the nearest clerk. “I’m wondering if you can help me. I’ve just missed the
Doreen
’s sailing and I wanted to pass the captain a message.” He gave a polite smile. “What’s the
Doreen
’s next destination?”

The young clerk chuckled. “Then your message will get to the ship when she docks at Plymouth. The
Doreen
’s sailing directly to England. Lord Markham’s in a hurry to return home.”

“Is the
Doreen
Lord Markham’s ship?”

The clerk nodded assent. “Aye, she is.”

With a polite thank-you, he stepped out into the sunshine, a thrill coursing through his veins. He now knew where to start looking for her.

What on earth was she doing with the Earl? Had Lady Serena Castleton known Lord Markham prior to her marriage? His lip curled in disgust. He knew who Lord Markham was, a burned war hero shunned by polite society. Why would that man want to protect her?

Had Serena Castleton used her body in exchange for protection? A woman on the run would need protection and couldn’t be too fussy about whom she bedded in exchange for it, even a hideously disfigured man like Markham. She was certainly beautiful enough for any man to offer protection in exchange for her body.

Whore!

There was only one way to find out: follow the
Doreen
to England.

He would find her. Once clear of the docks, he strode purposefully to where a young boy held his horse. As he swung himself up into the saddle, he inwardly swore that no slip of a woman would evade him. He
would
catch her.

Lily, it turned out, was a magnificent sailor, although it was fair to note that the sea had been relatively calm ever since they left Canada.

The first night on board ship had passed smoothly. They’d all dined in the main cabin, adjacent to Christian’s stateroom, before Sarah retired early to see to Lily. She’d wanted to ensure that the little girl wasn’t nervous or scared. At night, in the dark, the creaks and groans of the schooner’s wood and rigging could be frightening for a young girl who’d just lost both her parents and was being taken away from the only home she’d ever known.

Sarah read to her until Lily fell asleep. Then she’d crept to her own cabin and fallen into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. She’d managed to flee Canada without being caught. She prayed she’d be safe in Dorset.

Christian must have slept soundly too, because Sarah didn’t wake until dawn, having had the best night’s rest she’d had in weeks. No nightmares of Sean, her husband’s vile overseer, chasing her, pinning her down, ripping at her clothes … Unless Sean was a fish, he’d not catch her at sea. She gave a strangled sigh. He was as slimy as a fish. And stank like one too.

Once she was dressed, the lure of fresh air saw her climbing through the hatch. Arriving on deck, Sarah gloried in the dawn breaking in vibrant oranges and reds, spreading its light like a newly lit fire across the waves. No longer was the joy of being alive a forgotten sentiment.

She raised her arms and gulped in the fresh sea air, then slowly exhaled. She was going to enjoy this crossing. The pleasure of standing on English soil was one she thought she’d never experience again. A tear slipped from her eye and she wiped it away. She wished she could wipe the last two years from her memory just as easily. She might be returning to the home of her birth, but she could never return home.

Seeing the captain leaning on the railing, Sarah moved to his side. “Good morning, Captain Weatherspoon. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

“Aye, lass. The winds are filling the sails. It’ll be a quick trip down the coast to Jamaica.”

“Jamaica?” Sarah tried to keep her tone steady.

“Lord Markham got an urgent missive as we were boarding. He asked me to change our
route to sail via Jamaica.” The captain smiled. “You’ll enjoy the stop. Jamaica’s a bit wild, but the scenery and sparkling waters are among the most glorious anywhere in the world.”

With that, he touched his cap and strolled up onto the bridge. She turned back to lean on the railing, her pulse beating frantically.

She didn’t want to go to Jamaica. Her husband owned a slave auction house on the island, the image of which she would never be able to wash out of her mind. They had made frequent trips to the island when each slave ship arrived with its desperate cargo.

Most of the gentry on the island knew who she was, because when they were first married, Peter had stopped there on their way home from England. He’d shown her off like a prize mare.

This was not what she needed to hear. Her snug feeling of safety evaporated like seawater on a sun-drenched deck.

She heard a footfall and knew who it belonged to: Christian. She tried to keep from turning to watch his approach, but it was as if an irresistible force made her pivot about until she was leaning back on the railing, her heart beginning to beat rapidly as she soaked in his dark yet scarred beauty.