An Unlikely Lady (32 page)

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Authors: Rachelle Morgan

BOOK: An Unlikely Lady
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“She stands before us, Alexander. Do you not recognize her mother's glorious curls?”

“You . . . are my father?” Honesty asked.

“Uncle, she is but an imposter, come to capitalize on our tragedy for whatever gain. Extortion . . .”

Jesse took a threatening step forward. “One more word out of you against her, and they
will
be fishing you out of the bay.”

“Alexander means no ill-will,” the distinguished gentleman said. “He means only to protect me. This would not be the first time someone has appeared on our doorstep, claiming to be one of my daughters. But if my nephew will only look closely, he will see that this is indeed our beloved Aniste.” He lifted a frail hand in her direction. “Look into her eyes, Alexander, and tell me who you see.”

With obvious reluctance, Alex approached Honesty, and as his uncle bade, stared deeply into her eyes. Slowly he turned to look at the portrait, then back at her, his mouth going slack.

“My God, it
is
you!”

“That's what I've been trying to tell you.”

He sank to an ottoman. “But . . . how? I was there the day they took you. I'd turned my back for only an instant . . . and I was there the day your dress . . .” His voice cracked. “A beautiful blue dimity with black sash and tiny collar . . . washed up on the shore . . . All these years I have carried the burden of my guilt.”

Honesty's throat clamped shut. She closed the distance between herself and the broken
man, and knelt at his feet. “Alex?” she softly called. And a memory surged to the surface of her mind. “Lex, it's all right. I'm here now.”

He lifted eyes filled with despair and cupped his big hand around her cheek. “I turned my back only for an instant. I was charged with watching you that day, and I failed in my duty. Even worse, I gave up hope. Can you ever forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

“Child, come let me look at you.”

With a guilty start, Honesty realized she'd forgotten all about her father, the man who'd sired her. She'd thought she would feel an instant bolt of recognition, but the man who sat before her was as complete a stranger as Jesse had been when she'd first seen him. Shyly, awkwardly, she approached her father.

“You have grown into a beautiful young woman, just as I always knew you would.”

She shot a glance at Jesse and blushed. She hoped her father couldn't see just how much a woman she'd become . . .

“Your mother said that one day you girls would be returned to me.”

“Is she here?” Honesty asked with barely restrained eagerness. “May I see her?”

His face fell. “I'm afraid that is not possible. You see, your mother died the day you were stolen from us.”

The history of her abduction unfolded as they sat around a dining table set with gold-rimmed plates. Honesty had never seen such expensive china, much less eaten off it.

Anton Jervais sat at the head of the table, his manservant hovering close behind him, while Alex occupied the seat directly across from her. Jesse had opted to sit at the far end of the table. Honesty wished for his closeness.

She heard the story of how her mother had died of a wasting disease, and how the very day of her funeral, Honesty and Faith had disappeared. The next day, the family received a demand of one million dollars in ransom. Frantic to have the girls returned, the family produced the money through the quick sale of two of his finest ships, then dropped the money at the designated spot on a nearby wharf.

But they never saw either girl again—until a few short hours ago.

“We know that he wasn't the one who manufactured the whole plot, though.”

Alex flushed.

“It was my brother, Alex's father, who conceived of the idea to steal my children.”

All the while, Jesse sat in stony silence at the end of the table, his face expressionless, arms crossed over his chest.

Honesty absorbed the story as if she were
not the one they spoke of. She told them of her life and her search after Deuce's death, leaving out many of the details. What she had shared with Jesse was too private to share with anyone, especially two men who were little more than strangers.

“He was a good man. I know it's hard to believe that considering what he did, but he was.” She showed them the letter. “And I have something else for you, too.” She dragged her carpetbag close to her, opened it, and pulled out a stack of bills. Their eyes widened. “You can count it. Every penny of it is here—well, except for the train fare to get Jesse and me here.”

Anton Jervais cleared his throat, then addressed Jesse. “We owe you a debt we can never repay. Please, take the money.”

Jesse glared at the men, then, to their collective astonishment, pushed back his chair and stormed out of the room.

Jesse watched the waves crash against the jagged rocks that lined the beach below the Jervais home, feeling as if each one were battering away at his heart. He'd thought he could do this: bring Honesty home, reunite her with her family, then walk away without a backward glance.

He owed her that, for the way he'd doubted her story.

But the instant Jervais tried pushing off the ransom money on him as reward for finding his daughter, it all became too clear: he'd have paid twice as much to keep Honesty with him.

“Jesse?”

He felt her approach, but couldn't bring himself to look at her. What for? To remind him what he'd be missing for the rest of his life?

“You're leaving, aren't you?”

He gave a single stiff nod, and wondered if she'd come to say goodbye before taking up her duties as heiress to Jervais Shipping.

“My father wants you to find my sister.”

“If he's looking for a detective, he'll have to look elsewhere. I'm not for hire.”

“You mean you're not going back to Denver?”

“I
don't know what I'm going to do, Honesty. I loved working for the agency, but . . .” Hell. What
was
he going to do with himself now? She was right; he'd never be happy tending a bunch of cows. He wanted passion in his life. Unpredictability. Adventure. He wanted all the things Honesty had brought back into his world—the challenges, the excitement. He wanted the rush of the chase, the thrill of the escape, the risk of the unknown.

And he wanted her at his side.

The thought of spending another single,
solitary night under the stars without her made his chest hurt. An intense sadness came over Jesse as he realized what he should have known months ago. “I just don't think I'm cut out for this line of work anymore.”

“But why? You're a wonderful agent!”

“Once, maybe, but that was before I lost the edge.” It was the first time Jesse had admitted the truth aloud, even to himself.

“Oh, Jesse.” She slipped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Jesse closed his eyes in agony.

“You didn't lose your edge,” she said. “It just got dulled a bit.”

“I lost it. If I doubted that before, you became a sharp reminder.”

“Why, because you didn't know of my connection to Deuce? Jesse, give me some credit; I didn't spend a lifetime with the greatest con man in the West without learning a few tricks.”

He knew she was trying to lessen his sense of failure, but the attempt fell flat. “I should have known who you were.”

“How could you have known, when I didn't even know myself? Deuce was very good at what he did, or he wouldn't have gotten away with it for sixteen years. And you are very good at what you do, or I would have picked up on your identity a long time ago.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But it doesn't change anything. A man gets tired of always watching his back.”

“I'll watch your back.”

Jesse didn't know if he was more surprised or touched by the offer. Honesty might be impulsive to a fault, but she didn't make commitments lightly. He turned in her arms and studied her face. “What are you saying?”

She laid her palms on his chest and stared at the tiny pearl button at his throat. “I'm saying that I don't know how you expect me to carry on as if we never met. As if I never fell in love with you.”

Tenderly, he brushed her cheek, savoring the softness of her skin. “Honesty . . . do you even know who I am?”

“You're my strength. My music. My safe harbor. Everything's off-balance when I'm not with you.”

He crushed her to him, and felt her soul clinging to his with greedy, grasping fingers.

“Without each other, who are we?”

There was a wealth of meaning behind the simple question. Like him, Honesty seemed to be looking for an identity. And a certainty filled him then that they had found it.

“We're the same people we were yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Our
names might be different, but our hearts haven't changed.”

“Do you really believe that?” she asked, her eyes alive with hope.

“It's the only thing in life I believe without question.”

“Then why can't you believe that I feel the same for you now as I did the day I met you?”

“Because if I believed it, I'd never be able to walk away from you.”

“Then don't. Stay here with me.”

“I can't stay here. I left this kind of life years ago.”

“Then take me with you.”

He spun around and gazed at her in shock. “This is where you belong, Honesty.”

“No, this is where Aniste Jervais belongs. I'm not an heiress, Jesse, I'm the daughter of the greatest confidence man in the West. Imagine the damage I could do to a shipping company.”

A sad smile touched his lips at her attempt to make light of her own talents.

She stroked the lapels of his jacket and in that velvety voice that had captivated him from the first, said, “I don't blame you if you aren't willing to take a chance on me after I've been so dishonest with you, but I've spent too many years wandering the land to spend the rest of my days trapped in a glass cage. I'd much rather
spend them sleuthing with my husband—if he'll have me.”

Astounded and humbled that she would give up a future most women only dreamed of for him, Jesse realized that it wasn't the truth he prized above all things, but Honesty. “Promise me one thing: that you will never lie to me or keep secrets from me. You're the one person I need to trust.”

“Does this mean you'll take me with you?”

His heart soared, and his arms tightened around her. “Someone's got to put those skills of yours to good use.” She threw her arms around him with an elated shriek, and Jesse couldn't resist taunting, “You've got a few other skills that need putting to good use, too.”

The wicked smile she gave him was easily worth a million dollars.

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