The Duke Can Go to the Devil (26 page)

A boulder settled low in his gut as he realized what was about to happen. Even as he turned to May, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. He should have said something sooner. He should have explained his role. It was too late now, and damn it all, he was going to lose her before he ever even had a chance to pursue her.

M
ay's brows rose in surprise. What the devil was going on? She had seen the delight in her father's eyes when he'd approached them. She'd heard the amusement in his voice as he had addressed the duke. He'd been pleased to find her showing interest in a man. But all of that was gone in a flash, replaced by a stony fury so unfamiliar to her, she took an unconscious step back. “You . . . know him, Papa?”

How could that be? Her father was as far removed from English society as she was.

Or she had thought. Given the way he glowered at the duke, with his lip curled in disgust and his chin pushed forward, it was obvious he not only knew of him, but he held a very poor opinion of him. “Aye, I know him. A man should always know his enemy.”

Enemy?
Her fingers went cold as she gaped at him. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Why don't you ask him? I imagine he knows exactly what I'm referring to if he was so kindly comforting you about your ‘circumstances.'”

Alarm raced through her as she turned to face the man who had moments before been tempting her to believe there might be something here in this country for her after all. That perhaps there could be something
more between them. Where once her heart had pounded with the possibility, now it thundered with the dread of what he would say. “What does he mean?”

William didn't flinch. He didn't look away or even avoid her gaze. But there was regret in his eyes. “Your father is referring to my role in spearheading the legislation to break the East India Company's exclusive trade rights. It was originally my father's project, and I picked up the reins after his death.”

The words were like daggers, flaying her where she stood. How could he have not told her? The bitter taste of betrayal lay heavy on her tongue. She thought of their discussions, of all the times he could have said something. Of just minutes earlier, when he had pretended to sympathize with her over her devastation. God, but she had believed him. Believed that she mattered to him, and that they could somehow find enough common ground to stand on.

She shook her head, over and over, staring at him in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me?” It was the question that reverberated within her, increasingly crowding out all other thought. How could he have let such an important detail go unsaid? He was actively going about dismantling her life, and never saw fit to let her know.

His eyes were shuttered, opaque to whatever he was feeling or thinking. It made her even angrier, after feeling that she had begun to really know him.
Love him.
She pushed away the thought almost as soon as it surfaced. Obviously she knew nothing of such a foolish notion if she could have thought to possess it for him, the treacherous bastard.

When he spoke, it was with careful control. “You were leaving soon. It didn't seem relevant. You already knew
of my position on the Company, and on trade in general.”

Anger simmered hotly just below her skin, and she wished her father wasn't here so she could say all the things she wanted to. “Knowing your position and knowing you actively worked to bring my family to this point are two very, very different things. I believe you had to have known that. You owed it to me to be honest with me.” That he would kiss her, knowing that it was under false pretenses, felt like a violation.

Some of his control slipped as he put his hand to his chest. “I was never dishonest with you.”

She crossed her arms tightly over her stomach. “If that's what you think, then you know nothing of honesty. Or honor, for that matter.” She said the words to hurt him, just as she was hurting. All this time he had pretended to hold the moral high ground, and in truth he hadn't a leg to stand on. Lying by omission was just as egregious as telling a falsehood.

His jaw worked as he met her gaze. “I regret that I wasn't more forthcoming. I cannot and will not apologize for my parliamentary actions, for I believe they resulted in fairness in trade and more opportunities in the industry at large. That being said, the collateral damage to your family is terrible, and for that I am truly and deeply sorry.”

Collateral damage? Is that what one calls the destruction of one's whole life? She drew herself up, regarding him with her chin lifted and her spine rigidly straight. “You'll forgive me if I am unmoved by your sentiment.”

He stepped closer, the first bit of real emotion flickering in his amber eyes. “I never intended to deceive you. I know this is all rather shocking and surely painful for you, and I wish that I could undo that. But please know
that my feelings toward you remain unchanged. Whatever differences we may have, I care deeply for you and wish for you to be happy.”

As if she could believe a word he said now. Her heart constricted, aching with a fierceness that she knew couldn't be assuaged. With hollowness swallowing her from the inside out, she turned to her father. “Take me home, please.”

Home.
As though there was such a thing. Thanks to the duke, she was little more than a rudderless ship, adrift in an unknown sea. Whatever brief hope she had had that her future might be salvageable dissolved into nothingness.

Her heart and her life would never be the same again.

*   *   *

Dering took one look at William and went straight to the liquor bottles lining his sideboard. He selected a bottle, poured generous portions of the clear liquid into two tumblers, and came to join William by the fireplace.

Handing over a cup, he said, “Pretend it's water and drink up.”

William accepted the drink and sank into the nearest chair, not giving a damn about his posture. Or his brooding silence. Or the fact that he wanted to shout and curse at the top of his lungs. Nothing had ever gone so terribly wrong in his entire life. He could still see the look of betrayal on May's lovely face, hear the aching hurt in her voice.

Dering tapped his fingers on his own glass, watching him pensively. “Perhaps this will be easier if I tell you that I heard Captain Bradford is back in town. I also
heard that it is unlikely Captain Bradford—or his daughter—will be leaving town.”

Rolling his tongue over his teeth, William regarded his friend with a shake of his head. “I swear you have spies in every household in England.”

Dering chuckled, though the humor didn't quite reach his eyes. It was clear he was concerned for William. “Only the ones that matter. Now, are you here to talk to me about something, or shall we sit here and hold our drinks pensively.”

“I may have ruined everything.”

Dering's mild expression never changed. “Can you be more specific?”

Swirling the drink around in the glass, William said, “What do you know about why her father isn't returning to the sea?”

Dering shrugged. “That I don't know for sure. Could be retirement, given his age. Could be unrest in the textile market. I hear tell the Company is cutting back their routes to all but China, which is apparently the only country for which they still hold exclusive rights.”

William pointed a finger directly at him. “Bull's-eye. Care to put the pieces together, or do I have to spell it out?” All the pride he had once felt at that accomplishment tasted like ash in his mouth.

Leaning back in his oversize leather chair, Dering pursed his lips a moment. Realization quickly dawned. “Ah, I see. No good deed for the country goes unpunished, no?”

“Precisely.” William clenched his teeth against the frustration and gnawing sense of wrongdoing. He had meant it when he told May he hadn't intended to deceive her, but that didn't change the end result. “It shouldn't have mattered. Nothing was supposed to become of my
time with her. It was intended to be an enjoyable diversion for us both.”

Dering took a long drink, then settled his dark gaze back on William. “So what happened?”

Wasn't that just the question? “I fell in love.”

Dering's mouth literally dropped open. It was the first time in William's life that he'd ever successfully shocked the man. He wasn't surprised by his friend's reaction—William could hardly believe the words had left his own mouth. But they had, and more to the point, they were true.

God help him.

He dragged a hand through his hair, completely at a loss of what to do about it. When Dering finally picked his jaw up from the floor, he shook his head slowly and said, “Holy hell, my friend.”

William raised his glass. “Cheers to that.”

“So what now? I imagine she is aware of your role and more likely than not displeased, given the way you are draped across my furniture like a wet sack of flour.”

Any other time, William might have reacted to such an undignified description. At that moment, however, all he could do was nod. “She is furious. Rightly so, I suppose. If I had anticipated where things between us might lead, I might have discussed it with her. Unfortunately, it was always a given that she would leave and, frankly, I never saw any of this coming.”

Dering slowly nodded, his gaze still pensive. “Well, it is safe to say her leaving is no longer an option. The way I see it, you have two options.”

“Those being?” Two options were already two more than he had come up with.

Setting down his glass on the side table, Dering leaned forward and extended his index finger. “One, you can
realize that the situation is hopeless, and go home to your estate to live without her.”

“That is not an option. Try again.”

That old expression crossed Dering's wide features, the one he always got when he thought of the past. “Sometimes that is the only option, as I well know. Luckily for you, that's not the case here. You, sir, need to fight for her. Show her how much you love her, and that you want nothing more than to give her what she wants in life.”

“I'd love to do just that. Unfortunately, I
can't
give her what she wants.”

“You don't think she wants you? Love, babies, jewelry for Christmas?”

William rolled his eyes at Dering's flippant response. “It's possible she could want those things, but I don't know if she'll ever admit it. For her, the thing she wants most in the world is the ability to go home.” The exact thing he had stolen from her. The one thing that was impossible for him to return.

“Then give her that.”

William blinked at his friend, wondering if that drink had already gone to the man's head. “How exactly am I supposed to do that? Switch allegiances? Campaign for the reversion of the Company's monopoly?”

Crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, Dering lifted an eyebrow. “Who said anything about the Company?”

“You're not making any sense,” William explained, throwing up a hand in frustration. “Would you have me buy her father a ship and send them on their merry way?”

Dering smiled and raised both eyebrows this time. He
didn't say anything, instead just sat there with an expectant look on his face.

Groaning, William came to his feet. “You have clearly gone mad. I should go.”

“Your choice. But answer me this: How were you planning to export your goods once the mill is at full production?”

That stopped William in his tracks. He turned to face Dering fully, his understanding dawning. “You're speaking of investing in shipping,” he said, his mind racing as he considered the implications. “Owning the vessel that transports the goods, charging others to ship, making use of a captain's decades of experience in both the routes and the trade contacts.”

He sank down into the chair, working over the logistics. “It would be a fortune for the initial investment.” After promising Vivian a house and funds, it would be an uncomfortable stretch to come up with the available capital.

Dering picked up his glass and held it in salute. “Lucky for you, you have a friend who is looking to invest in a new venture. Don't want to look as though I'm sitting around waiting for the old man to stick his spoon in the wall.”

It could work. With the Company cutting their routes, they would have to be looking to sell some of their fleet as well. Not to mention cutbacks in decommissioned naval ships after the war.

If he did this, he could truly make right all the setbacks that had befallen May and her father. He could give her what she wanted most: the ability to return to the place she called home.

But where did that leave him? Exactly where it left him now: wanting her to choose him over her old life.
The difference was, her happiness would be assured. Whether that happiness meant going away or staying with him, it would be her choice.

Drawing a long, bolstering breath, he smiled to Dering. “It appears we have much to discuss. I do hope your week is clear.”

Dering gave him a wide, knowing grin. “For you, my friend, I have all the time in the world.”

William smiled for the first time that evening. God willing, it wouldn't take that long.

T
he sun had not yet crested the horizon when May arrived at the park. It was cool this morning, hinting strongly toward the coming autumn. She had never thought to be here for the changing leaves and waning days. It was lovely in its own way, though she never could bring herself to enjoy it. Just gilding to her cage, as far as she was concerned.

She wasn't angry anymore. She wasn't really anything. The only word that came to mind was
lost
. They hadn't even decided where to live yet. It had been weeks and they were still living with Aunt Victoria, waiting to see if any of Papa's inquiries would come through. She, at least, was finally showing a bit of compassion. After what she had said of her past, May imagined she understood something of what it was like to lose one's expected future.

Shedding her coat, May chafed her hands together to get the blood flowing. Soon she would have to find warmer clothes for her morning routines. She rolled her head back and forth and made her way to her normal spot. Closing her eyes, she breathed in and out several times, attempting to clear her mind and ground her body in the moment.

“You never did finish our lesson.”

May's heart leapt to her throat at the sound of his voice.
William.
She spun in his direction, so eager to see his face she didn't even attempt to temper her reaction. He was so incredibly handsome, standing there in the murky morning light, his hair slightly mussed and his lips curled in a small, cautious grin. His eyes . . . She shivered, feeling his gaze like a physical caress. They seemed so warm and earnest, it was all she could do not to go to him.

She worked to get her breathing under control. To get herself under control, really. He had lied to her. Hurt her. Left her here to rot with nary a word for weeks. Weeks! She crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

He walked closer to her, moving slowly but purposefully. “I wanted to see you. I was hoping enough time had passed that you wouldn't throw me over your shoulder the moment you saw me.”

Lifting her chin, she said, “Let's just say I wouldn't suggest coming much closer.”

He paused a few feet away, but it was close enough for her to feel the old connection between them. It was like a single strand of silk thread, gossamer thin but with an unseen strength that made it quite difficult to break. She steeled herself against her body's traitorous reaction, forcing herself to remember the pain of their last meeting.

He looked her straight in the eye. “May,” he breathed, her name like velvet. “I've missed you. I never stopped thinking about you, never stopped regretting how I hurt you.”

God, but she had missed him too. Or at least, she had missed the man she thought he was. The one who
wouldn't have deceived her. “I'm surprised to hear you have wasted any time thinking of me.”

It surely couldn't have been as much time as she had wasted thinking of him. Remembering his kisses, his touch, his beautiful golden eyes. The problem was, she always remembered the betrayal, the pain, and the hurt as well. How could she forget? Her whole life here was a constant reminder.

“I know you think I purposely misled you, but I swear to you I didn't. I also know that you hate the effect my actions had on you, and there is nothing I can do about it.”

She shook her head. “No, there's not. Which is why you shouldn't have come.”

He stepped closer, only an arm's length away now. “But the problem is, there is much more to us than that. When you came to the estate, it may have only been for a few short days, but you changed everything for me.” Another step. Her heart raced faster still, and she had to force herself not to reach out.

Giving a helpless little shake of his head, he said, “I fell in love with you, Mei-li Bradford, without ever intending to. I had a vision for my life, and it did not include a tall, exotic blonde with the mouth of a sailor and the heart of a lion. It's just another thing I was completely wrong about.”

Time seemed to have stopped at the words
I fell in love with you
. May stared back at him in utter shock. She shook her head, unable to believe what he was saying. “You can't love me. We're polar opposites. We would drive each other mad.” Even discounting the matter of his deception, there were too many things working against them to even consider it. Still, her heart raced with the possibility.

He grinned. “You already drive me mad, and you aren't even near me.” He took another step forward, bringing his body entirely too close for her to maintain reason. “But there is one very important thing.”

She swallowed, unable to take her eyes from his beautiful lips. “What?”

“Someone once told me that home is where the heart resides. I want you to find home, May, wherever that may be.”

She was so overwhelmed by his closeness, she couldn't even make sense of what he was saying. “I don't know what you mean,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. The scent of sandalwood was like a sip of water in the desert, filling a need she didn't even know she had.

He lifted a hand and slid a single, featherlight finger along her jaw, making her shiver. “You will.” He leaned forward, and she held her breath, waiting for the moment his lips would touch hers. But at the last second, he tilted his head and pressed a single kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Good-bye, Mei-li. When you have everything you want, I hope you'll discover what you really need. And more important, where your heart truly lies.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her utterly bewildered and struggling to draw a proper breath.

*   *   *

Today was the day. The first shipment from Spencer Mill would have left England's shores on the newly christened
Anna Britannia
, a two hundred and eighty ton brig that Dering had found less than two weeks after setting out on his search.

William had named it in honor of the two most
important women in his life: his mother and the woman he hoped would be his wife. The decision was in her hands. Which, of course, made him a nervous wreck.

He wasn't used to releasing control of things, and this was by far the biggest gamble he had ever taken.

“William, please, you're wearing a hole through the carpet.” Vivian shook her head, clearly amused with his agitation. “Come over here and help Julian with his drawing. He can't remember what the sails should look like.” She was living with them part-time now, and had made a noticeable change since William had purchased the home she had chosen, less than ten miles away.

Blowing out a breath, he pulled himself away from the windows he had been pacing between and lowered himself to the floor next to his brother. “How could you have forgotten already?” he asked, ruffling his brother's hair. “We were only there two weeks ago. And you say you want to be a sailor.” He tsked teasingly.

It had been the most excited he had ever seen the children. They had run along the newly refinished deck, holding their arms out like soaring seagulls and laughing with abandon. They had toured the quarters and the various decks, continually getting in the workers' way as they put the finishing touches on the refurbishments.

Julian scowled up at him, obviously displeased with William's ribbing. “They couldn't let them out, remember? You can't put sails up at the dock.”

True enough. As he leaned over and helped Julian draw them in, William couldn't help the fresh swell of anticipation that assailed him. He still hadn't heard a word from May. He had hoped she would come to him weeks ago when she'd learned of her father's new position. When she hadn't, he had waited, hoping she would
show up when her father left for Portsmouth several days ago in preparation for the voyage. But even then, she hadn't.

It was impossible to know if that meant she was choosing to return with her father after all. The ship would have set sail today before the sun even came up, so one way or another, and with Portsmouth less than fifty miles away, he would have his answer by the end of the day.

Which was nearly at hand.

Even now, the sun was already slipping below the horizon, and he knew that the children needed to go to bed soon. He looked at Clarisse, who was attempting to place her elephant comb in Orangey's long fur. William hadn't said a word to either of his siblings, but they both knew he was acting strangely.

Vivian cleared her throat and looked at the clock resting on the mantel. It was after seven, and he couldn't pretend the day wasn't over. Doing his best to ignore the growing stone that had settled over his chest, he came to his feet. “Time to get ready for bed.”

Clarisse looked up, confusion wrinkling her forehead. “But she's not here yet. I wanted to say hello.”

William hadn't said a word to either of them. He narrowed his eyes at Vivian, who quickly held up her hands and shook her head. Turning back to Clarisse, he said, “Who isn't here?”

“Mei-li. You've been watching and watching, and since we are here, who else would it be?”

Who indeed. He forced a smile. “I'm just restless. Now, to bed with the both of you.”

Nurse Plimpton rose and tended to the children as he and Vivian said good night and headed downstairs. They
walked in silence all the way. His heart was heavy as he offered a shallow nod and started for his study.

“Radcliffe,” Vivian said, making him turn. “I'm sorry for your disappointment. I think perhaps a walk in the garden will help clear your mind.”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, trying to maintain even an ounce of stoicism. “Perhaps I will. Good night.”

She nodded and headed off toward the east wing, leaving him alone in front of the huge, empty drawing room. He looked around aimlessly, not even sure what to do with himself. Despite the enormous space, he suddenly felt closed in. Vivian was right. He needed air.

Stalking to the back doors, he let himself out into the garden, not bothering to bring a lamp despite the falling darkness. No matter how wretched it felt, he took solace in the knowledge that she had found her happiness. He had hoped, desperately so, that her happiness would have been with him. As much as he thought of her, dreamed of her even, it was difficult to swallow that she didn't do the same of him.

He had taken a gamble, and though he had lost, he took solace in the fact that she had won. She would have the life she wanted, and despite the almost overwhelming sense of loss on his part, he was happy for her. It wasn't what he had hoped for, but it would have to be enough.

As he walked along the stone path, his eyes on his feet, he realized that there was light out here after all. Faint, but definitely visible. He glanced up, confused,
only to see the conservatory glowing with lamplight the way it used to when his father was still alive.

What on earth? Then, in a flash, hope flared to life, almost painful in its intensity. Could it be? It seemed far-fetched, bordering on ridiculous, but with even a slim possibility that she would be here, waiting for him in the warmth of the conservatory, he wasn't going to ignore it. He hurried to the fogged glass doors, his heart thundering against his ribs.

He was nearly jogging by the time he reached the entrance, and quickly turned the knob to let himself in. The warm, humid air immediately washed over him, dispelling the chill from outside. He breathed deeply of the floral, earthy scent, his eyes darting around for any signs of May. Nothing. No flash of jeweled silks, no hint of her smile, no sound of her voice. Only the flutter of birds' wings and his own pulse in the huge, forested room.

The light came from evenly spaced torches lighting the path that meandered through the overgrown space. Drawing a calming breath, he headed down the path, following the lights, hoping,
wanting
May to be there. To put him out of his misery, and let him know once and for all that she chose him. That right here, with him, was where her heart resided.

But as much as he searched for her sun-kissed hair and shimmering blue eyes, there was nothing there. He made it to the center of the conservatory, where the path ended at a small fountain surrounded by several half-moon benches. Still, he was alone. Was it possible that one of the servants had decided to light the space?

With his hope falling away, he blew out a long breath and turned to retrace his steps. And there she was. Like a figment of his dreams, she stood there on the path not
ten feet away, swathed in shimmering jade silk embroidered with colorful birds that fit perfectly with the forest around her. She was perfection. More than beautiful.

Beloved.

*   *   *

Warmth that had nothing to do with the conservatory filled every corner of May's heart as she drank in the sight of the man she loved, staring back at her as though she were a mirage that might disappear at any moment.

She'd said good-bye to her father that morning. All the way up until yesterday, she had herself so convinced that her happiness resided halfway around the world, she had intended to set sail with him. Even after the missive from Lady Radcliffe had arrived earlier in the week, explaining what William had done for her and imploring May to reconsider his suit, May still couldn't shake her stubbornness. But as she'd packed the last of her possessions with Suyin last night, she'd suddenly realized that her happiness had nothing to do with a place. It was with a person.

William
.

Just as her mother had always said.

Her sudden announcement of her intention to stay had surprised no one but herself, it seemed. Papa had smiled and hugged her tight. Suyin had nodded knowingly. And when she'd arrived at Clifton House this afternoon and asked for Lady Radcliffe at the servants' entrance, the older woman had merely grinned and readily invited her inside.

May had wanted the moment she saw William to be perfect. The man who had made the grandest gesture she had ever heard of—buying a ship and hiring her father
to captain it—deserved more than a simple knock at the door. He deserved something special just for him.