Pirate Hunter's Mistress (The Virginia Brides) (3 page)

But Richard Arden had destroyed his plans, his hopes, his mission. Damn Richard for spending Lark’s own inheritance to boot! Damn Hollins Carpenter for letting him!

Lark folded his arms across his chest and addressed the fair-haired Simon, a man who was as different from Lark in both temperament and looks. In all of the years Lark had known Simon, he’d never seen Simon lose his temper. “I wish now I had claimed my money years ago, after Grandfather died. I’m sorry my father couldn’t make peace with him, that I listened to him when he ordered me not to use the money. At the time, I didn’t need it; Arden’s Grove didn’t need it.”

He thought with longing of the large plantation along the banks of the James River, not far from Williamsburg. He wondered how his mother fared in running it without him. But she’d run it when he was off to sea, hunting down pirates, and she’d taken charge after his return when he was so ill and near death. During his recovery, he learned the overseer had planted only tobacco, depleting the once rich and fertile soil, making a quick profit and absconding with the money. Lark had put all of his available cash into recouping his losses. Nothing was left to outfit a ship and crew. He didn’t blame his mother for the plantation’s calamity; she’d been under duress because of his father’s death. But Lark did blame someone else, a conniving and despicable human being—the pirate Manuel Silva—a man whom Lark intended to hunt down and kill.

“I wish I could lend you the money,” Lark heard Simon say, “but my father keeps a tight rein on my funds until I turn twenty-five in six months’ time. If you could wait until then…”

“I appreciate the offer, friend, but time is a luxury I can ill afford these days.”

“Yes, I know.”

“If only Richard wouldn’t have taken out the wildest stallion in the stables and been thrown by the blasted animal on the day of our arrival. God! Do you realize the odds of such a thing happening? I think I’m cursed, I truly believe I am. So many terrible things have happened-over the last few months—” Lark broke off, unable to think about the horrible things he’d endured, unable to dwell upon the unthinkable which must have befallen the helpless young woman who’d been entrusted to his care. “Somehow I have to get the money I need to outfit a proper ship and crew,” he spoke determinedly but grew quiet when the housekeeper and only servant, Mrs. Mort, appeared in the doorway.

“I’ve brought you tea, my lord,” she said and entered the room with a silver tray and tea service atop it. She was a plump woman with gray hair and the largest pair of green eyes Lark had ever seen. Her dark brown dress was made of sturdy gingham and the white cap she wore was immaculately clean. Though she bobbed a curtsy to Lark after she poured the tea, her demeanor was stiff and frozen, a clear indication to Lark that she didn’t like him or care to address him in the same manner as Richard Arden. And why should she like him? To her, he was a usurper, a stranger who had inherited Richard’s title and home upon Richard’s untimely demise. Lark recalled how diligently she’d nursed Richard after the accident, how she’d stayed by his bedside and called him her “lamb.” She’d taken care of Richard when he was a child, and no matter his faults, Mrs. Mort remembered him as a sweet-faced little boy and not the reckless man he had become. Even now, two days after Richard’s death, the woman’s eyes were still red-rimmed.

Lark, too, was aggrieved by Richard’s death but not because he’d cared about him. The two men had never met until the day Lark arrived in Cornwall, the day Richard suffered his fatal fall. To Lark’s consternation, Carpenter had taken off for God knew where and left a delusional Richard. Richard lingered in agony for five days with a back injury and mumbled some gibberish about a wealthy bride. Lark and Simon, with the help of Mrs. Mort, had done all they could for Richard, who refused a doctor. But Lark doubted a physician could have helped Richard. His injuries were too extensive.

Shortly after Carpenter returned, Richard took a turn for the worse.

Wanting to leave Cornwall as soon as possible, Lark requested his inheritance from Hollins Carpenter who was forced to admit the truth. There was no money—no money at all. Richard had spent his own fortune and pilfered Lark’s. Carpenter admitted he didn’t know that Richard’s gaming debts were so great. Lark’s grandfather, the old baron, had entrusted Lark’s inheritance to Richard upon his death. Carpenter had no control over the money, but if it was any consolation, the manor and the title were now Lark’s. Perhaps he could sell the estate?

Even now to think about selling this moldy, decaying crypt of a house offered Lark little hope of raising enough money for his mission. With the house and grounds in such deplorable shape, little chance existed in attracting a buyer. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Simon,” Lark solemnly intoned. “The fates have conspired against me.”

A knock discreetly sounded on the library door and Lark gruffly ordered the person inside. Hollins Carpenter entered with a frown that caused his spectacles to dangle on the tip of his long, thin nose. He carried a piece of parchment. “Forgive me, my lord, but I wish a word with you alone.”

Lark couldn’t get used to being addressed in such a way by Hollins or Mrs. Mort. He gestured the solicitor to a chair. “You may speak freely in front of Mr. Oliver.”

“If that is your wish, my lord.”

The man, whom Lark appraised as about forty, appeared uneasy as he sat down. His face was flushed and he raked a hand through his graying hair. “There’s a matter I must speak of, my lord, something I’ve neglected.”

Lark flexed his broad shoulders. “Good God, man, don’t tell me any more bad news about my inheritance.”

Mr. Carpenter swallowed hard, seemingly cowed by Lark’s superior build and strength. “Uh, no, but perhaps my news might affect you indirectly.”

“How is that?” Lark toyed with a letter opener, not taking his gaze from the solicitor.

“I failed to mention to you that your cousin had married,” Carpenter hurriedly spoke. “The day after Richard’s accident I journeyed to the young lady’s home at his request. He was very ill but still he wished to marry the woman who had accepted his suit. The ceremony was performed by proxy and was somewhat of a surprise to her. You see, she and her family didn’t expect me to arrive, but Lord Arden. Well, of course, I couldn’t tell them he was injured and might not survive. In fact, I believed he would be all right, as did he. Otherwise, a marriage wouldn’t have been necessary.”

“Yes,” Lark noted sourly. “A dead man couldn’t be a bridegroom.”

“Exactly.”

“Go on.”

“Well, Miss Stafford, or rather Lady Arden now, expressed her desire to come here, but I thought it was best to make a hasty retreat before answering her. I had to see how things were with Lord Arden first, to learn what he wished to do. Now there is little reason for her to come here at all, except I received this missive today.” Carpenter held out the letter to Lark. “Your cousin’s bride informs me she will soon be arriving. I’m amiss as to what I should do. Her husband isn’t here to greet her.”

Quickly scanning the very feminine penmanship, Lark raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Why tell me about any of this, Carpenter? You’re Richard’s solicitor.”

“Yes, yes, but you must realize, my lord, Marlee Stafford, er, Lady Arden, believes herself to be married to a healthy young man who is still living. Her aunt and uncle wanted her to marry for the title and estate. They’re rather common people, but Lady Arden inherited a large fortune from her father. She may not be an aristocrat by birth but by marriage, she is your cousin’s widow. And now you’re the Baron of Arden, while she believes herself to be the baroness. This unfortunate situation places both of us in uncomfortable positions.”

“You’re in an uncomfortable position, not I,” was Lark’s blunt comment to Carpenter. “Tell me about Marlee Stafford.”

“Lady Arden,” Hollins reminded Lark, “is an heiress, the daughter of a common laborer who managed to own a tin mine and made a fortune. She has lived with her aunt and uncle for eight years, but from what I’ve seen of the girl, she’s never fit in very well with them. Different, I suppose you’d say, much too pretty and bright.”

“Why did Richard choose to marry a common wench or need I ask?”

Hollins sighed. “Her fortune, my lord, is too great to be overlooked. I admit I informed Lord Arden about Lady Marlee. I knew he was having a terrible time financially, and she was unable to find a husband because of the gossip about her—reputation.”

“Ah, I take it Lady Arden was too free with her favors.”

“I can’t say, but no decent young men offered for her. I suppose her wealth was too strong for Richard to resist. And I doubt her lack of reputation meant anything to him while his title and lands overpowered the McBride family. Thus, the aunt and uncle accepted his suit. I will say her father must have anticipated some problems with her fortune for he made a stipulation that after his daughter’s marriage the money would pass to her husband only upon her signature on the necessary paperwork.”

Lark tapped his fingers on the parchment. “Has she signed yet?”

“No, my lord.”

“I see, Mr. Carpenter.”

“Do you, my lord? I trust you do. I hope when Lady Arden arrives she won’t be too upset over her husband’s death. But she shouldn’t be since she never met him in the flesh.”

“A most unfortunate and distressing situation for the young woman,” Lark proclaimed and rose from his chair. He walked across the room to the window and gazed down at the rocks and pounding surf on the beach below him.

“Yes, my lord,” Carpenter hastily agreed. “Your cousin was many things, and not all of them pleasant, but he didn’t deserve such a cruel and painful end. Lady Arden doesn’t deserve never to have a beginning.”

“Quite right, Carpenter.”

“Then I trust I have your permission to explain to the young woman about your cousin’s death.” Carpenter looked expectantly at Lark but a minute passed without an answer. Even Simon raised a quizzical eyebrow at the lengthy silence. “My lord?” Carpenter queried with a furrowed brow to Lark’s back. “Did you hear me?”

Lark was quiet for a few more seconds. Then he turned to face Carpenter and Simon with a serious but detached demeanor. “My hearing is unimpaired, I assure you. Gentlemen, I believe my money problem is solved, but only if I have your fullest cooperation.” His gaze encompassed Simon and Hollins Carpenter.

“You have mine, my lord,” Hollins readily assured Lark but Simon remained silent.

Taking his place behind the large desk which had once belonged to his grandfather, Lark took a deep controlling breath. He didn’t like what he planned to do, in fact he hated it, but there was only one way to reclaim what Richard had stolen from him, only one path opened to get the money he needed to fulfill his mission. He said confidently, “When Lady Arden arrives at Arden Manor, she shall meet her husband and be more than willing to sign away her fortune.”

Hollins slowly stood up, a puzzled expression on his plain face. “I don’t understand, my lord. Richard Arden is dead.”

“Ah, Carpenter, must I explain it to you? Am I not Lord Arden, Baron of Arden Manor?”

“Yes, my lord, since you have inherited the title and estate from your unfortunate cousin.”

“And didn’t Miss Stafford marry Lord Arden, Baron of Arden Manor?”

Before Hollins could respond, Simon jumped to his feet and interrupted. “Yes, Lark, but she didn’t marry you! I don’t like where this plan of yours is headed.”

Lark laughed but it wasn’t a merry sound that echoed in the library. “You know me too well, Simon, and you know how desperate I am.”

“You can’t mean to deceive this young woman, tell me I’m wrong.”

“You aren’t wrong.”

The deadly earnestness in Lark’s voice caused Simon to wince. “I won’t support you in this sordid deception, nor will I help you. You can’t trample on the young lady’s feelings and get away with it.”

“With your assistance, I can. Believe me, I detest what I plan to do but I haven’t any other choice. Don’t desert me, Simon. I’ve always counted upon our friendship. I must have your help and Carpenter’s support if this plan is to work.”

Lark suddenly looked very tired to Simon, not resembling the robust young man of minutes ago. He’d recovered from his illness, or at least Simon had believed the recovery to be complete, but now Simon worried that his friend might suffer a relapse if he didn’t help him. The pain, worry, and anxiety which Lark had suffered the last few months had nearly killed him, and Simon didn’t wish to be the cause of further distress to Lark, not if he could prevent it. But what Lark planned was monstrous and totally out of character for him. Yet Simon hadn’t been with him when he’d been hunting down pirates, blowing ships and men to pieces. Somehow the experiences had changed Lark from a concerned and well-intentioned individual to a cold and calculating man. Perhaps if he no longer had to worry about finances, then things would set themselves aright and the Lark of old would return.

“I’ll help you in any way you wish,” Simon reluctantly assured Lark before he left the room, “but I don’t condone the method.”

“I should like to know what is happening here,” Hollins peevishly put in when he and Lark were alone.

“Then I shall explain it to you,” was Lark’s chilly retort, his dark eyes moving away from the door which had just closed behind Simon to Hollins. “Mr. Carpenter, my ne’er-do-well cousin spent my inheritance. Even if you didn’t control the purse strings, you should have stopped him. I hold you responsible for what happened, and I will reclaim what is rightfully mine through Richard’s widow.”

Carpenter grimaced, not seeming to care for Lark’s critical remark. “How shall you accomplish that, my lord?”

“Quite simply. When Richard’s wife arrives, she shall not be informed of his death. I shall pose as Richard until she signs over her fortune. Then I’ll take what is due me. I’ll find a ship and outfit it with a crew. After I am gone, I’ll leave you to the duty of telling her the truth as you’re so adept at breaking bad news.”

Carpenter’s face paled and his mouth trembled. “My lord, I can’t allow you to do this. Lady Arden is an innocent, totally blameless for Arden’s mistakes and you mustn’t use her—”