Silent Revenge (10 page)

Chapter 6

B
loody hell. The girl had told him the truth. She
was
Tanhill’s stepsister.

Simon ignored the knot twisting in his gut and stared out the window of the study while he waited for James to return. Tanhill’s stepsister was still in the drawing room. The duchess thought it best if he weren’t there when she revived.

He stared out the window overlooking the garden and watched a pair of nightingales that sat on a thick branch of the budding alder tree.
Tanhill’s stepsister.
The implication of what that meant registered in his mind with startling reality.

The pale color of her cheeks when she faced him last night, the desperate look in her eyes. He couldn’t forget the brave front she’d exhibited. He couldn’t forget the way he’d talked to her, accused her of being little more than a common whore. He closed his eyes to block out the memory.

Outside, the male nightingale’s melodious tune soared above the normal sounds of the morning as if the tiny thrush had something significant to celebrate. He looked at the smaller bird nestled on the branch beside him. Perhaps he did.

Perhaps they both did.

The door opened behind him. “Is she all right?” he asked without turning. He kept his voice deliberately bland.

“Yes. She and Melinda will join us in a few minutes.” Collingsworth walked across the room and poured two cups of tea. He handed one to Simon. “Would you like something stronger?” he asked, nodding to the brandy decanter sitting on a table next to his mammoth oak desk.

“Poison?” Simon said, his lips twisting cynically.

His friend’s laughter echoed in the silence. “Excuse me for saying so, but you look like hell.”

Simon raked his fingers though his disheveled hair. “I hope I never have the opportunity to return the compliment.”

James sat in one of the two cushioned chairs flanking the fireplace. “Sit down, Simon. Let’s look at this rationally.”

“Bloody hell. There is no rational way to look at this. I have before me the opportunity to save Ravenscroft. The manor, the fields, the forests and ponds. I have the chance of a lifetime to care for and repair the homes of every Northcote tenant who has gone without since my father and his extravagant wife squandered the money. And repair the church and…” Simon breathed a sigh.

“…then begin to care for the other five Northcote estates. All I have to do is marry Tanhill’s stepsister, and pray she won’t run off with the gardener and humiliate me worse than my previous fiancée. Is that a rational view of the situation?”

James did not answer him. When he spoke, his voice was soft, tinged with a hint of concern. “Perhaps there is another solution.”

Simon set his empty cup on the corner of the desk and sat to face his friend.

“The reason she came this morning was to enlist my help in arranging passage out of England. Perhaps she would be safe in the colonies.”

Simon leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees. “You know that will not assure her safety.”

“She cannot stay here without protection, Simon,” the Duke of Collingsworth said in a harsh tone. “She’s worth a bloody fortune. Her stepbrother will move heaven and earth to take it away from her. You know him, Simon. He will not hesitate to get rid of her. He will either put her up before the courts to prove she’s mentally incompetent and have her locked away, or…”

Simon breathed a heavy sigh. “Or he will simply kill her,” he said. “As you and I know, torturing the helpless is second nature to him.”

“It was never proved that he killed that barmaid, Simon. Perhaps—”

“I know.” Simon sat back in his chair and touched the scar that angled from one side of his chest to the other. He tried to control the simmering rage building within him, but the torment on the faces of the people Tanhill had massacred in India refused to go away. He’d lost track of the times he’d wished Tanhill had been successful in his attempt to add his soul to the countless others who’d lost their lives in that faraway country.

James leaned forward. “Tell me what you intend to do, Simon.”

A wave of indecision swelled within his chest. Every promise he’d made after his father had eloped with his fiancée paraded before him like a taunting curse, mocking and ridiculing him with its shrill laughter. He swore he would watch Ravenscroft fall to ruin rather than marry to save it. He swore he’d be content without a wife, home, and family rather than turn to another deceiving woman again.

But he’d also sworn to exact vengeance on Baron Tanhill.

Simon unconsciously fingered the scar on his chest. “I’ll marry her, of course.” A cold chill raced through his body when he said the words.

The look on James’s face exposed a multitude of questions. “What do you think Tanhill will do when he finds out you’ve married his stepsister? When he finds out that you possess the wealth he thought to gain?”

“I do not doubt what he will do. He’ll try to kill me. He must eliminate me before he can go after her.”

“You’ll be in danger, Simon.”

“I’m counting on it.” Simon closed his eyes and breathed in a harsh breath. He was being given the chance of a lifetime. And Tanhill would pay for everything he’d done. “I don’t expect you to understand this, James, but I must have one more chance to conquer my ghosts.”

“Destroying Tanhill is that important to you?”

“You have no idea. I would barter with the devil himself to see the bastard rot in hell.”

“If you marry her, that is exactly what you will be doing.”

“Perhaps.”

James didn’t move for several minutes. Simon could see his watchful gaze studying him. There was a look of genuine concern written on his face.

“What about Jessica, Simon? How will you handle her deafness?”

Simon stood and walked to the window. His vivid refection stared back at him in the glass. “Her deafness will not affect me one way or the other,” he answered. “Just as she will never affect me. Marriage to her will mean nothing to me. We will endure the union because it mutually benefits us both. Nothing more.”

Simon braced one arm against the window frame. “I will provide her the protection she needs. In return, she will provide me the wealth I need to save Ravenscroft and make my estates profitable—”

“Simon,” James interrupted. There was a warning in his voice.

Simon had not heard the door open, nor had he realized she’d entered the room.

Ignoring the unease he felt, he lifted his head. His gaze met Jessica Stanton’s refection in the window. She stood in the doorway with Melinda at her side. Her eyes focused on his refection in the glass. He thought he saw a flash of pain in her eyes before she lifted her chin and raised her shoulders almost in defiance.

Bloody hell. How long had she been there? How much of what he’d said had she seen?

Simon looked at her eyes, her pale cheeks, and her lips. The lips he’d kissed last night.

Uncomfortable with the memories, he glowered, then turned his gaze from her face.

He stared at her hands fisted at her side. Hands that had touched him with a gentleness he’d never experienced before, then clung to him with a ferociousness he couldn’t comprehend.

He pushed away the possibility that he cared what happened to her, one way or another. He did not. The last thing he wanted was emotional involvement with another deceiving woman.

James started across the room to escort both the women to a seat, but stopped short when Miss Stanton raised her hand in warning. “I cannot stay, Your Grace. I have only come to offer my apology and beg you will find a moment to visit with me when you are no longer occupied.”

Collingsworth shook his head. “No, Jessica. Please, stay. Together we will work out a solution to your problem.” He glanced at Simon for help.

Simon said nothing.

“No,” she answered, the glare in her eyes lethal. The tone of her voice deadly. “There is nothing more to be said. Everything I had to say to the earl was said last night.”

Simon took a step toward her. “I think there is a great deal left, Miss Stanton.” He noticed the slight lift to her shoulders and the determined gleam in her eyes. “You came to me last night with an offer of marriage. I have reconsidered your offer.”

“I, too, have reconsidered my offer,” she said. There was a pleasing expression on her face, but when she spoke, her words hissed through her teeth and spilled into the room like venom. “It will be a cold day in hell, my lord, before I will marry you.”

He held her icy glare for a long moment, and then he smiled. “Then you’d best ring for another wrap, my lady. Because the temperature is dropping even as we speak.”

For a long time, no one moved. Not even to breathe. Jessica stood in a haze of confusion, trying to assimilate what he’d said.

“I have changed my mind, sir,” she said firmly, her voice stiff and cold. “I no longer wish to marry you.”

He kept his gaze leveled at her. He looked every inch the ruffian—a pirate on the high seas—a man more dangerous than any she had ever seen. He was in need of a good night’s sleep, a shave, and a clean set of clothing. Yet, for some unfathomable reason, Jessica thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen.

“James,” he said to the Duke of Collingsworth, yet keeping his gaze locked with hers.

She refused to look away.

He met her challenge. “Leave us alone for a while and send someone after my solicitor.”

Jessica panicked at the thought of being alone with him. “No. I don’t want—” He was not listening, but talking through her words. She stomped her foot.

“And James,” he continued, “stand ready. The marriage must be binding. We cannot make one mistake or overlook even the smallest detail, or our lives could be forfeit in the end.”

Jessica could feel the blood rush to her head and thunder against her ears. She stared at his mouth to make sense of the words and commands he issued. He intended to make her his bride.

Heaven help her.

Even though a husband was exactly what she’d been desperate to find last night, it was something she was just as desperate to avoid today. Last night her actions had been impulsive, borne from desperation. She’d realized it during the sleepless hours after she’d left him. It had been a blessing he’d turned her down. She would not chance making the same mistake twice.

She stared at his lips. He instructed James as if he were his commander, and James hung on his every word. Even Melinda listened with wide-eyed attentiveness as they discussed the plans for her future. They acted as if she weren’t there.

Twice his gaze left her and then returned, and each time her heart few to her throat. She was torn between anger and relief.

She wanted to turn on her heel and race across the room, but she didn’t. She held her ground. The man issuing orders and taking control of her life was a power to be reckoned with. As much as she feared him, he was all that stood between her and an asylum.

She stared at the overwhelming mastery he exhibited and dispelled a shudder. Although he seemed cruel and uncaring, she needed him. He towered before her as an unconquerable force, equal to the task of protecting her from Colin.

Her chest tightened as she struggled to take her next breath. He closed the distance between them and drilled her with a gaze so penetrating her heart leaped in her breast.

He turned her so she could see each of them and then touched a finger to her chin and tilted her face upward to make sure she could see his lips. His touch was so opposite the harsh look he leveled at her. Almost gentle.

“Could you give us a moment alone?” he said to the Duke and Duchess of Collingsworth. “Miss Stanton and I have some important details to discuss.” He looked over at Melinda and then back to her. “I promise she will be safe.”

Jessica’s world stopped.

I promise she will be safe.

A warmth wrapped around her heart, and the heat it caused seeped ever so slowly through her chest and down to the very pit of her stomach where it swirled as a boiling pool.

I promise she will be safe.