A Woman Made for Sin (41 page)

November 20, 1816

Clive lifted the glass up so that he could see it better in the light. With a scowl,
he took one of his cleaner towels and wiped it down to remove the dirt. “Even now
that damn woman is making me do things I don’t want to,” he muttered and lifted the
next glass.

He had almost three dozen more to go through before he opened up the place. Something
he was still dithering on doing. Ellie had sent the cases with a note.

Pride had almost caused Clive to bellow at the man who delivered the cases to take
his damn glasses
and
Ellie’s money
and
get the hell out of his place. And if he were ten years younger, he would have, but
Clive had learned too many painful lessons from being hasty. Denying Ellie’s offer
would not have been hard, but one hundred pounds was a lot of money. It was enough
to enable him to make some changes that he had always longed to do.

“She said I had to do
two
things,” Clive had snorted at the polished, unfazed man standing in front of him.
“Tell her that I’ll take the glasses
and
I’ll use ’em. But I’m not shutting down my place on some woman’s whim.”

The man had merely nodded and said, “I will convey your message. I am sure that her
ladyship will be saddened by your decision, but she will understand.”

And then the man had left.

“Why would she care if I open my place or not?” he asked himself aloud.

The answer suddenly came to him. Was Ellie thinking of coming here? A marchioness?
She had been here for weeks, but not as herself. That would be different. Clive had
no doubt that her husband—a
marquess—
would be at her side. Both of them would be in all their finery and he had no way
to stop them. If he was open, he would never live it down. The men would chide him
for years for rubbing elbows with the titled. It would ruin him.

He put the glass down and headed out the doors. Several boys were across the street
playing a game with rocks. He called out to them and gave them each a penny for spreading
the word that Six Belles was closed for the night. If they made sure not a single
man came up to the door the whole night, they would get an additional sixpence. Seeing
their faces go from skepticism to belief reminded Clive once again why he was so glad
he always kept his word.

Then he turned to go back inside and waited.

Just after eight o’clock, he heard the sound he had known was coming. A few seconds
later, the carriage stopped just outside his doors. Clive held his breath. He wanted
to reprimand Ellie for being so shortsighted, but with her husband there, that would
be an impossibility. Clive doubted he could have done it anyway. He had a hard enough
time dealing with her when she had been just a simple, infuriating lass.

The door opened and Clive felt his mouth go completely slack. And for the first time
since Ellie forced her way into his life, he felt absolutely and completely grateful
that she had.

“I cannot believe you are not right there watching the whole thing.”

Millie smiled. “How I want to be there, but a piece of me knows that even if I want
to, I’ll never see Six Belles again. While I would love to see everyone again, it
would cause problems.”

Jennelle nodded in understanding. “Not to mention that Charles would never let you
go.”

Millie smiled, wondering if she could get him to compromise on the topic. Perhaps,
if she would agree to let him go with her. Either way, it did not matter. For a few
brief weeks she had crossed over and lived in another social class. Miraculously,
her reputation had not suffered. But if she were to even visit that world again, it
would not just risk her and Chase’s reputations, it could seriously debilitate Clive’s—and
therefore Bessie’s—livelihood. No, it was better she sent her thank-you in the form
that she had.

“Bessie sounds like she can be difficult. Do you think that she went?”

“Oh, she went,” Millie declared. “Bessie is many things, but she is no fool. She would
be unable to refuse the opportunity to live out a secret dream.”

Lying in bed every day had been torturous. Chase had been there most of the time,
and it was during her detailed stories about the people she had met and worked with
that the idea of how to thank Clive and Bessie occurred to her. Millie had been uncertain
how Chase would react, as it was another unorthodox plan that in no way resembled
the actions of a marchioness. But he had surprised her and readily agreed—just as
long as it was his man-of-affairs and neither of them doing the actual delivery.

And so the next day a large selection of materials was sent to Evette along with payment
for a cloak, a new working dress, and one evening gown. Once complete, she was to
deliver them to Bessie along with a note.

Millie sighed. “I only wish I could have seen her in Evette’s creation.”

“Not me,” Jennelle said, shaking her head. “I’ve never met either of them, but based
on all that you have told me, it is
Clive
that I would like to have seen. I bet his eyes popped out of his head when Bessie
arrived.”

Millie laughed. “If they did not, then I am sure they did when all the food and the
waiters came in wanting to set up a table for them on the roof of Six Belles.”

Jennelle joined her. “Oh, it is too sad that you cannot communicate and find out what
happened.”

Millie winked at her. “We’ll find out. I am thinking that I might be in desperate
need of some new clothes before we leave Town. While we are at Madame Sasha’s, we
will find a way to corner Evette and learn all the details.”

“After Madame Sasha grills you.”

Millie grimaced. “Unfortunately, you are right. She is not going to be happy learning
what happened. I just hope she will be somewhat mollified when I tell her that I was
truly unaware of the danger regarding Chase and the thief.”

“Well, you have another week to think of what to say, for I expect it will be at least
that long before Charles is willing to let you leave this room.”

Millie scoffed and threw off the covers to let her legs swing over the bed’s side.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Jennelle watched as Millie stuck her feet into some slippers and then put on a dressing
gown and tied it around her waist. “What will Charles say if he finds you out of bed?”

“Not a thing. I’ve agreed to all the security he deems necessary, and he ignores my
need to sneak downstairs several times a day, just as long as I don’t try to leave
the house. This way I can be myself and break some rules, while he is no longer worried
that I’ll break the ones that truly bother him. This way we are both happy,” Millie
finished with a shrug of her shoulders.

No longer tongue-tied, Jennelle murmured, “I’m never getting married.”

“I remember saying that once,” Millie said, chuckling. “Meanwhile, there is something
you need to see.”

Chase entered his study and paused when he saw his wife and Jennelle hovering over
his desk. Millie being out of bed when she should be in it, resting, was almost expected.
That she was in his study was also not surprising, but seeing her studying the maps
that were supposed to be cleverly hidden was not what he expected to find when he
came home.

“I did not show you where those items were hidden for you to remove them at your leisure.”

Millie rounded his desk and went over to give him a light kiss on the mouth. “Do not
worry. I did not stress myself by getting them down. It was Jennelle who put forth
the effort, and we have only now just begun to study them.”

“I told you before—”

“And I heard you. But truly, Charlie, is there any harm in Jennelle and I looking
at the very thing that is making us live with all this additional protection you have
hired?”

Wanting to throttle and kiss her at the same time, Chase gave in to his second inclination
and pulled Millie in close. With Jennelle in the room, it was a far less passionate
embrace than he would have preferred, but every day Millie grew stronger. It would
not be long now before he could truly show Millie just how much she was loved.

“Then look at them if you must, but when you realize you can understand it no better
than I, will you agree to keep them concealed until Reece arrives?”

Millie nodded happily.

Jennelle sat down in the chair that Chase normally occupied, quite engrossed in what
she was looking at. “Charles, just what do you think this is a map of?”

Chase went over and said, “I do not know, and outside of Reece, I do not trust any
man who has enough knowledge of the sea and its charts to decipher it.”

Jennelle shook her head and looked up, her eyes bright with excitement. “Charles,
these are not islands, and no sea captain is going to be able to tell you what these
are.”

Millie went over to stand next to Chase. “Jennelle, what do you mean?”

Standing up, Jennelle fingered the large mark at the top of the map. “This symbol,”
she said, “is one that I have studied a great deal. I have written and debated with
experts in recent years on whether these maps even existed. And now, standing here,
I find it hard to believe that I am actually looking at something that is almost eight
hundred years old.”

Millie sucked in her breath. “How old?”

Ignoring the rhetorical question, Jennelle looked up and stared intently at Chase.
“And if I am right and these are what I believe they are, then I know what Sir Edward
is looking for . . . and it isn’t on an island. And it most certainly is not treasure—at
least not in the way most people define the word.”

Chase held her gaze. “Then just what is he after?”

“Something that should not be in any man’s hands. Something so powerful, it could
potentially give Edward the power over, well . . . everything.”

November 21, 1816

Reece watched Captain Shay from the corner of his eye pretend to amble along the deck
acting as if his intentions were to quietly check on the work of his crew. Reece had
no doubt that in just a few moments the balding old man would just “happen” to spy
him leaning on the rail, when in reality it had been Shay’s primary purpose of stepping
onto this part of the main deck. Worse, the aging captain probably suspected that
Reece knew of this and was enjoying making Reece wait by prolonging his stroll.

At long last, the sound of a satisfied sigh joined the wind on Reece’s right.

“You took your time,” Reece drawled.

“I did, didn’t I?”

Though Reece refused to look and verify his suspicions, he knew the old man was grinning.
Reece recognized the pure delight that rang in Shay’s voice. Such happy sounds usually
came from Aimee or another of the Daring Three, but nonetheless, it meant the same
thing. The man was scheming.

“Glad our weather’s being cooperative this trip.” Shay patted his protruding stomach
and inhaled deeply. “Outside in the afternoons is the best. Don’t you agree?”

The weather?
Reece huffed to himself. Shay was obviously eager to talk to him about something
and it certainly was not about climate conditions during the day. “Mornings are a
little chilly,” Reece carefully agreed, “but if the seas remain calm, we should make
London a day or two ahead of schedule.”

“Aye. The
Sea Rebel
’s a mighty fine vessel. You have five ships now, if memory serves. Your company must
be doing well to afford expanding like it has.”

Reece searched for the hidden meaning in Shay’s words. Unable to come up with one,
he remained silent.

Undisturbed by Reece’s lack of willingness to participate in conversation, Shay pulled
out a small telescope from the inside pocket of his outer coat and scanned the blue
horizon. “Your reputation as a sea captain during the war was akin to dictatorial.
I wondered if you could accept being on a ship you owned but did not command. It seems
the rumors were overblown or untrue.”

Reece risked a brief glance over to his right. Captain Shay had a reputation during
the war as well and it always involved three words—cunning, brilliant and thorough.
It did not take long to know his reputation was accurate, if incomplete. Cunning should
have been in there twice. The elder captain was steadfast to those he served and always
spoke the truth but one could count on there being more than one meaning to whatever
he said. “Do not overly concern yourself, Shay. I fully intend to be off the
Sea Rebel
and back on the
Emerald
as soon as I am able.”

Shay waved his hand dismissively. “I never was worried in the least about that.”

Reece drew in a deep breath and exhaled. He was battling between the urge to leave
and his gut feeling that he should just yield and ask the infuriating man what he
wanted. Normally, any prospect of being manipulated would have been enough motivation
to walk away, but it would be another week before they were back in London. If Reece
did not take the opportunity Shay was providing him now, then whatever topic the old
man wanted to discuss would almost certainly come up tonight at dinner—and not to
Reece’s favor. Though vexatious, the creative control Shay had of the situation was
to be admired.

Turning to face the man directly, Reece gave in and said candidly, “Speak your mind,
Shay, for behind that nonchalant smile of yours, you have concerns and questions.
And since they are not about W & H shipping, my reputation as a captain, me being
on this ship, or the fair weather we have been having, that leaves only one more topic.
Lady Aimee Wentworth.”

Shay shrugged his shoulders and clasped his hands together. “Annabelle and I just
want to know what your intentions are.”

Reece quirked an eyebrow. “Same as they were when I came aboard. I had planned for
Lady Wentworth and me to marry prior to our journey back to London, but her stubbornness
delayed such wiser notions. So we are now forced to wait. However, the sleeping arrangements
regarding myself and Lady Wentworth, which I suspect is contributing to some of the
anxiety and the motivation behind your line of questions, are
not
going to change. All I can do is assure you that at the first opportunity, we
will
be wed.”

Shay chuckled and clapped Reece on the back. “Ah Hamilton, any changes to
your
sleeping arrangements on this ship would undoubtedly create changes in
my
sleeping arrangements. Annabelle has grown quite found of Lady Wentworth and angry
women tend to stick together. But that is something that you will learn in time.”

Reece was about to remind Shay that he had known Aimee and her two best friends since
childhood and was well aware of the close bonds that female camaraderie created when
he stopped himself. If Shay’s purpose was not to convince Reece of spending the next
several days apart from Aimee, then what was it? “Then, damn it, man, what is it that
you and I need to discuss? What has you filled with mirth and me uneasy to find out
the reason?”

“Why, Hamilton, I have no idea,” Shay professed less than innocently. “I’m fully content.
At least I am now.” He threw one of his arms around Reece’s wide shoulders and despite
only being of average height, maneuvered Reece so that he looked out toward the deck
versus the sea. Letting go, Shay pointed at the upper deck. “I think right there will
be the best spot. That way all the men could see the ceremony since Lady Wentworth’s
friends will not be able to attend. And while I know you said the
first
opportunity, our women will be wanting several hours to get ready and you agreed
that the afternoon was preferable when being out on deck.”

The knot in Reece’s stomach became a lead weight as he digested just what Shay was
saying. “Tomorrow?” was all that he could manage to get out.

“I’m quite looking forward to it,” Shay said with a large, unapologetic grin. “Everyone
is, with the exception of Haskin. I haven’t exactly approached him about it. Maybe
you and I should do that together this evening over dinner. Though I doubt he holds
the same view as Annabelle and I. We were hoping that you and Lady Wentworth would
continue your antics for at least another week. Quite entertaining, you two. Never
knew what to expect and it made the voyage go by so much faster.” Shay paused and
lightly elbowed Reece in the side. “We were hoping that Haskin would get involved
and help delay things, but the lad is just too reserved. Anyway, now that you and
Lady Wentworth are blissfully happy and the crew knows one of the owners of W & H
Shipping is aboard, everyone is acting and behaving their best. Things have become
dull I tell you, even the weather has been cooperative.”

Reece held up his hand. “I’m not getting married tomorrow.”

“I thought you and I were of the same mind on certain matters. . .”

Reece shook his head and tried again. “We are of the same mind, Shay, but as a captain,
you can only command a ship. It takes an ordained priest to marry two people. You
lack the qualifications.”

“Indeed I do. But I know someone who does not,” Shay said with a playful smile.

Miles Haskin’s fork hung in mid-air as he mentally translated just what had happened.
The wiliness of Captain Shay was known to anyone with whom he came into contact for
more than a few moments. He was famous for his double entendre and as a result, Miles
had taken great care to successfully sidestep and avoid being caught in any of the
man’s traps. Unfortunately, tonight Miles had let his thoughts meander elsewhere instead
of remaining focused on the seemingly inconsequential path of conversation.

His thoughts had been on Lady Wentworth.

Not actually on the lady herself, but on the
idea
that a woman like her actually existed, for until now, Miles had not believed it
possible. In his experience, noblewomen or daughters of gentlemen of any stature resembled
more like the grating creature Aimee had pretended to be the night her true identity
had been revealed. It had been bad enough listening to her ask senseless questions
about sails and masts, but when Hamilton barged in, indecent, and lacking proper clothes,
it had taken everything Miles had to follow Shay’s advice and walk away. Even today,
Miles somewhat wished he hadn’t. He would have enjoyed punching Reece Hamilton in
the jaw a few times and blackening those blue eyes of his Lady Wentworth so enjoyed.
Not that Miles thought such an action would win him her affections, but mostly just
to ensure Hamilton knew there was a cost to treating another man as a fool. The only
thing that
had
kept Miles from decking him then, and since, was knowing a true fool was ruled by
his emotions—something he would never be. On the other hand, when it came to Lady
Aimee Wentworth, Captain Reece Hamilton was definitely ruled by his. And that knowledge
pacified Miles, but it also left him wondering . . . were there other women like Lady
Wentworth out there?

Miles knew the luxuries of wealth having grown up not as a nobleman, but as the third
son to one of the wealthiest gentlemen in England. His father was one of the most
prosperous men in England in the textile industry—a true rags-to-riches story. As
a result, he spoiled his wife and seven children quite abominably. They wanted for
nothing and always went to the most fashionable balls and eateries and had the latest
in fashions and transportation. As a result, women constantly swarmed his older brothers,
Alastor and Leland. It did not take long for them to pass on their knowledge to Miles—enjoy
a woman’s beauty but do not become enamored by it. By the time he came of age, he
quickly realized his brothers were right. Women simpered, plotted, flittered, blushed,
and some even fainted. Those who were intelligent incomprehensively pretended they
were not. Those who were not, men wanted to avoid altogether. Simply put, Miles, like
his brothers before him, had decided that women brought up in the upper class of Society
were not worth his time and effort.

Then he met Lady Aimee Wentworth, daughter of a marquess. Similarly spoiled in her
upbringing, she understood how Society worked to control all those in its domain.
And yet just as his father had mysteriously been able to instill in Miles and his
siblings a sense of independence, Aimee had a streak of unconventionality about her
that appealed to Miles’s oftentimes too reserved soul. He had not realized how much
he longed for someone like her in his life. Someone who could play the part of a Society
duchess if required, but also was full of passion, enthusiasm, and ironically—someone
he could not control. But until meeting Aimee, he truly had not thought a woman like
her existed.

As a young man embarking into the world, he had resolved to keep his wealthy lineage
a secret, thinking anonymity would enable those he encountered to focus on him and
not on his family name and wealth. When it came to men, Miles had been correct. Unfortunately,
God had given him highly-valued physical traits. So even without his inheritance known,
he attracted a train of insincere females with the same boring personalities as their
wealthier counterparts—they just dressed and smelled less appealing. So again, Miles
followed the footsteps of his older brothers and focused on his career.

Knowing eventually his eldest brother would inherit the family business, Miles knew
the textile industry would not be where he would invest his energies. His second eldest
brother Leland had chosen law, a field Miles eventually tried as well. The law suited
him in a way. He liked the idea of executing justice; however, sitting behind a desk
for days leading up to a nearly-just-as-boring session at court was more tedious than
his first chosen path—the church. But studying law had caused Miles to cross paths
with Sir Robert Peel once again.

Robert Peel was an old family friend as both of their fathers had made their fortune
in the textile industry. Robert was the same age as Alastor and was just leaving Harrow
School and Oxford as Miles entered, but Alastor had made sure Miles was included in
some of their more venturous antics. As they grew older, Peel and Miles realized they
had much in common, including execution of the law. During the next few years, Peel
held a series of positions in the government, one in which he established the Royal
Irish Constabulary, Ireland’s first major police force. He hoped to establish a similar
police force in London and wanted Miles to be a part of it, but Miles first needed
to broaden his understanding of the world in which he lived. This included the London
Docks.

With Peel’s encouragement, Miles had gone to work on a smaller ship that belonged
to a friend of his father’s. He had quickly moved to a larger vessel and then after
learning all he could, Miles knew he needed to expand his knowledge even more by working
for someone who had years of experience commanding numerous ships in various conditions—both
war and commercial. After several discreet inquiries, Miles had chosen Captain Shay.
Peel had agreed and used his influence and connections to get Miles on board the
Sea Rebel
.

What never occurred to Miles was that before ever being hired, Captain Shay had done
his own research on him.

“So what do you say, Haskin? Will you agree to officiate the wedding of Lady Aimee
Wentworth and Mr. Reece Hamilton tomorrow afternoon?” Shay posed the question again,
this time far more directly than he did the first time.

Miles ignored Aimee’s big green eyes and pretty mouth, both of which were open in
honest surprise. The tall, lanky man she intended to marry, however, was sitting back
with his arms crossed. And he was smiling. Reece Hamilton was far from shocked to
learn of Miles’s first choice of career.