The Unforgettable Hero (11 page)

“You haven’t been at the house much,” Derek continued. “Lucy’s been worried about you. I received a letter this morning from Collin, by the by, he’s on his way back.”

“I’ve been … busy,” Adam grunted, completely ignoring the news about Collin.

“Busy or distracted?” Derek asked.

Adam allowed a half smile to touch his lips. “Does it matter?”

“Seems to me that you’ve been different ever since Lady Magnolia left.”

Adam clenched his fist around the handle of his mug. “That’s
not
her name.”

Derek inclined his head. “Miss Harcourt, then. Have you spoken to her since then? Visited her?”

Adam snapped up his head, giving his brother a thunderous look. “Why would I visit her?”

Derek shrugged. “I don’t know. Lucy thought perhaps you might be interested in seeing how she was faring.”

“Lucy said she’d sent a note and indicated she was well.”

“You’re not more curious than that?” Derek asked.

Adam narrowed his eyes on Derek. “Why should I be?” He didn’t tell his brother that he’d arranged with Dr. Archibald to send an indecent amount of the medicine Mary Harcourt needed to their town house. Something her future husband, Percy, had apparently failed to do.

Derek took another quaff from his mug and sighed loud and long. “For God’s sake, man. Must I come out and say it? Lucy seems to think you’ve grown attached to the girl. Is there any truth to that?”

Adam rubbed his forehead. “Lucy sent you, did she?”

“Believe me, if she thought she could sneak in here to speak with you herself, I’ve no doubt she’d be here.”

Adam had to smile at that, too. He shook his head. “You may tell my sister-in-law that I’m doing quite well without Miss Harcourt.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed on him. “Are you?”

Adam arched a brow. “You doubt it?”

Derek pushed his tankard aside and braced his forearms on the scratched wooden table. “I’ll be blunt. I’ve been concerned about you, Adam. You haven’t seemed yourself since you returned from France.”

Adam rested his chin on his fist. “I’m not myself because I no longer have an occupation. I’m completely useless. Good for nothing more than drinking and going from one useless party to the next. I’m—Damn it, Derek. You couldn’t understand.”

Derek pulled his chair closer. “Try me.”

“You have your duties as the duke and in Parliament. You don’t know what it’s like to no longer be who you always were.”

Derek let out a sharp bark of laughter. “I don’t? That’s rich. No. I spent the last twenty years in the army, sleeping on wet earth, giving orders, fighting for my life and the lives of my men, and now I’m posted up in a fine Mayfair town house having to discuss politics with a bunch of men who never saw the first drop of blood in a war. Don’t tell me about no longer being who you are.”

Adam rubbed his knuckles against the back of his forehead. His brother had a point. In fact, he’d never really considered how different Derek’s life was now. “It’s still not the same. At least you have a purpose.”

“And you shall have a purpose, too. You must find it.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not. I envy you.”

Adam nearly spit out his drink. He searched his brother’s face. Derek looked quite serious. “
You
envy
me?
”

“When I was granted the dukedom by the prince, I didn’t have a choice. It’s not exactly something you say no to. But you,
you
can do whatever you like. You can decide your future for yourself. You’re able to decide your fate. If you don’t want the position at the Home Office, don’t take it. You’re completely in control of your own future.”

Adam pushed back in his chair and contemplated this news for a moment. He’d never guessed that Derek, the golden boy of the family, the famous war hero duke, would for a moment be envious of
him.
But his brother’s explanation made sense. It stood to reason that he might feel trapped by his obligations. Derek, of course, was far too noble and responsible to complain, but it was true that Adam had a choice.

“And might I suggest that given the freedom you have, you go after
exactly
what you want,” Derek added.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “If only I knew what that was.”

Derek took another hefty drink. “Oh, I think you know.”

Adam drew a ring on the side of his mug with his finger. “Really? I wish you’d tell me then.”

“I don’t need to tell you. Lucy told me. Something about a printing press? And Miss Harcourt?”

Adam’s eyes went wide. “How the devil—” Lucy, that busybody, seemed to know everything.

“Lucy has been telling all her friends about Miss Harcourt’s novel. They’re eager to purchase their own copies. Lucy says it’ll be a sensation based on word of mouth alone.”

Adam couldn’t stop his smile. “Now,
that
I believe, if Lucy’s involved, but—”

“Look,” Derek continued. “I know you don’t want to accept the money I settled on you.”

“I don’t—” Adam began.

Derek put up a hand to stop him. “Wait. Hear me out. I know it wounds your pride to think of accepting it. But consider this. The money would just be sitting in a bank doing nothing. You might as well take it and do something worthwhile with it. Besides, you could save three lives in the process.”

Adam’s gut churned. He could use the money, but there was no way in hell he was going to accept charity from his brother.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Derek continued, “you can pay me back the initial investment when you’re ready.”

Adam’s head snapped up. “Pay you back?”

“It’s only a suggestion. Don’t get your back up.”

“No, no.” Adam lifted his mug and set it down again with a thud. “I like that idea. I like it quite a lot.” He silently contemplated the matter for a moment. “I would insist upon paying you interest, however.”

Derek snorted. “Damn it, you stubborn ass. I’m not taking interest from you.”

“Yes, you are, or I won’t accept it.”

Derek shook his head. “I know Lucy will have my hide if I refuse you, but we’ll discuss it more later.” Derek finished his ale, stood, and pushed his chair aside. “I’ll see you back at the house?”

Adam nodded. The possibilities of using the money and paying it back raced through his mind. He could barely think straight. Damn it. The last three weeks had been hell. As hard as he’d tried, he’d been unable to get Cecelia out of his thoughts. One thing she’d said in the coach that last day haunted him. “I wanted to be with someone I cared about,” she’d said. Could that possibly mean that she didn’t care about this Percy, whoever he was? Adam had to at least try to find out.

His brother hadn’t been gone more than five minutes before he, too, stood and hurried to the door, where he collected his hat. First, he needed an appointment … with Mr. Cornwall.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The carriage jostled to a halt in front of the Harcourt town house on Downing Square. Adam barely allowed it to make a complete stop. Not waiting for the footman, he threw down the stairs and jumped to the dirt road, then sprinted up to the front door, his breath coming in rapid pants. After yesterday’s revelation at the Curious Goat, this morning he’d signed a contract with Mr. Cornwall to be his partner in a new printing venture. Adam would put up the money for riskier stories, stories like Cece’s, and his sister-in-law was going to be the head of sales, though she might not know it yet. Now it was time to tell Cecelia.

His insistent knock was answered not by a butler or any servant but by Mary Harcourt. “Mary, it’s good to see you. Where is your sister?” he asked in a rush.

Mary’s face was pale, and she looked as if she’d been crying. “Oh, Mr. Hunt. She’s at the church getting married to Cousin Percy.”

“
Cousin
Percy?” Adam felt the blood drain from his face.

Mary nodded. “Yes.”

“Today?”

“Yes. They only want her dowry of course, but after she couldn’t sell her book she had little choice. She’s doing it for me, Mr. Hunt. She’s never said so, but I know she is. I needed medicine and—” The little girl broke off into another round of sobs and a coughing fit.

“Didn’t you receive the medicine I sent?”

Mary looked abashed. “Aunt Selene refused it. She said we weren’t about to accept charity from the likes of a … haughty duke and his brother.”

Adam wanted to wring Aunt Selene’s neck but instead he reached out and patted the girl’s shoulder. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. He’d deal with Aunt Selene later. “What church is it? And when?”

“St. George’s. At ten o’clock.” Mary dabbed at her eyes, eyes that were suddenly filled with hope.

Adam fumbled in his pocket for his watch and glared at the thing.

“What time is it?” Mary sniffed.

“Nearly ten.” He turned back and sprinted down the steps.

“Are you going to stop the wedding, Mr. Hunt?” Mary called after him, her voice bright.

“If I can!” he called back.

Mary picked up her skirts. “Wait for me!”

*   *   *

Cecelia bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She stood at the altar with Cousin Percy at her side, the vicar having just begun their wedding ceremony. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she refused to either cry or make a scene. Many people had much worse lots in life. She was no different. She would have to just do her best and take solace in the fact that she would ensure that her sister made a proper come-out one day and married for love, just like Lady Magnolia.

She pressed her lips together. Lady Magnolia and the duke. She would never know what it was like to actually be a beloved bride marrying a beloved husband, but thanks to Adam Hunt, she’d at least had a taste of what it was like to be truly desired. Truly wanted. The worst part was that try as she might to get the entire debacle out of her mind, she couldn’t. She couldn’t forget the way he’d made her feel, if only for a few short days. He’d made her feel like a lady. He’d made her feel passion. He’d made her feel … love? Dare she think it? She had fallen in love with Adam, despite having just met him. But she didn’t blame him for being angry with her for lying to him. She hadn’t told him she was engaged and she hadn’t told him she loved him. What else was he left to think? It was better this way. She could never explain to him why she’d done what she’d done. How did you tell someone you’d wanted to pretend you were a heroine in a novel for just one more night? It was silly. It was stupid. It was unforgivable. But for one night, just that one night, she had been Lady Magnolia and he’d been her duke. He’d told her once he was no hero, but he’d been wrong. He was a hero. He was
her
hero. And she would never forget him.

“Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife?” the vicar droned. Cecelia kept her chin up and faced forward. She’d promised herself not to so much as glance over at Cousin Percy; the saliva on his bottom lip always made her feel ill.

A large crack echoed through the church as the doors at the back of the building were slammed open. Cecelia spun around, but the sun obscured her view. She raised the measly clump of half-dead flowers that Aunt Selene had pressed into her hand a moment before the ceremony began in front of her eyes to block the sun. Was that … Mary? Her sister had stayed home because of her cough and because Uncle Herbert was tired of hearing her cry all morning.

“Cecelia!” Mary cried, confirming the girl’s identity. But who was with her?

Cece’s gaze darted to the other, much taller figure racing down the center aisle. It was … Adam Hunt? No. It couldn’t be. Her eyes were playing a trick on her. Her imagination was running amok.

“Cecelia,” he called, and Cecelia’s flowers dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers.

“Stop the wedding!” Mary called. “Mr. Hunt has something he wants to say to you.”

Cecelia didn’t need to hear any more. She picked up her skirts and nearly ran down the few steps from the altar, then down the aisle. Adam met her in the middle and grabbed her and spun her into his arms. He kissed her fiercely.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, breathlessly. “I hope it’s what I think you’re doing here.”

Mary beamed at her side.

“What is the meaning of this?” Uncle Herbert’s voice thundered through the church. He pushed himself to his feet from his spot in the first row. The vicar glanced around, looking both embarrassed and confused. Percy dabbed at his bulbous lower lip but remained silent, and Aunt Selene stood up from her own spot in the front row and turned to glare menacingly at Cece.

Adam ignored all of them. He set Cecelia down and took both her hands. “I’m here to ask you if you’ll allow me to publish your novel,” he explained. “I came to an agreement with Mr. Cornwall. I’m going to be his partner and yours is the first story I intend to publish.”

Cece’s face fell slightly but she nodded. “Yes, of course. Well, we’ll have to agree to the terms, but yes, yes, I’d love for you to publish my novel, Adam.”

Mary’s smile widened. She elbowed Adam. “And…?” she prodded. “The much better part, I might add.”

Adam cleared his throat. He looked almost boyish, one dark curl falling over his forehead. “And on the ride over here, your sister explained to me that your marriage isn’t exactly one you wanted. Forgive me for not asking you more questions, Cecelia. I didn’t know.”

“No, Adam, no. I should have explained it to you. Only I felt as if you’d done so much for me already and I had no right to ask more of you by hearing about my troubles.”

“It doesn’t matter. Now that I know, and now that that we’ve got the business part out of the way, there’s something else I want to ask you.”

Cece held her breath. “Yes?”

Adam fell to one knee. “Will you marry me, Miss Cecelia Harcourt?”

Cece fell to her knees, too, and kissed him. “Yes, Mr. Adam Hunt. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Aunt Selene stomped over and wrenched Cece up by the arm. “Have you lost your mind? You’re in the middle of a wedding to your cousin.”

“Yes, and thank goodness it didn’t finish,” Mary said, giving her aunt a spirited nod.