Chapter 22
“Let us make our way to the rose gardens. Most people will be leaving now that the fireworks have ended, but I am sure a few will stay to wander the gardens in more privacy. We do not know what this Mr. Merlot looks like. Nor do we want to risk missing him.”
Elara nodded as she took his arm, and they strode out of the meadow and back toward the paths that would lead them to the gardens.
“Mrs. York gave me very little information on this new lead,” Elara said as they walked. “Only that we were to meet him here. Who is he? What is he about?”
“All I know is that his name is Mr. Merlot and he has access to the passenger manifests of all the ships that come to London’s docks,” Constantine explained. “I do not know if he has any personal ties to my brother.”
Elara nodded, and they continued the rest of their walk in silence.
As they reached the empty rose gardens, Constantine was not sure whether to be relieved or worried about the privacy.
On one hand, he very much wished to have the conversation in private.
On the other hand, he did not know if this man was of good stock, and he did not wish to put Elara in any danger.
“Are we early?” Elara asked as they stopped before a statue of Venus.
Constantine reached for his pocket watch to check, but before he could grasp it, a shadow moved from around the statue.
“No, Your Grace,” the man stated, taking off his black top hat and bowing dramatically. “You are right on time.”
Constantine’s expression was wary as he took in the man’s slightly overdramatic gesture.
“Mr. Merlot, I presume?” he asked in a bored tone.
“You presume correctly, Your Grace,” Mr. Merlot replied, and bowed his head.
Constantine took the man in. Aside from his fine top hat and cloak, he looked nothing like nobility.
His face was weathered, and his dark eyes were sharp, constantly looking about, as if he were wary of being caught.
Constantine also noted the slight Irish accent in the man’s deep voice, which he was trying to cover up with an English accent.
“I hear you have information for me,” Constantine stated. It had barely been a minute, but he wanted this meeting over with.
“For a price, Your Grace,” Mr. Merlot retorted, daring a smirking smile.
Constantine frowned at the audacity.
“A man who knows manifests and the whereabouts of my exiled brother,” Constantine sighed wearily as he reached into his inner jacket pocket. “I should have known you were some sort of pirate.”
“Aye,” Mr. Merlot agreed, still grinning as he took the wad of bills Constantine offered. “And like every pirate, I need my treasure. Now that I have it, you may have yours. I heard you are looking for your brother.”
“I am,” Constantine gruffly replied. “What do you know? Out with it.”
“Augustus is a friend of mine. We have hauled many a precious cargo for shared profit. I am delighted to say that such a friend is coming back to London on a ship named Her Essence. She is scheduled to dock at midnight in ten days’ time,” Mr. Merlot replied.
Constantine’s frown deepened. Ten days. Ten mere days before he and Elara would get to the bottom of their mystery. Ten days until, if all went well, he and Elara would part ways. The reality of such caused a pit to form in the bottom of his stomach and an acrid taste to form in his mouth.
“Do with that what you will, Your Graces,” Mr. Merlot stated, and tipped his hat toward them.
He turned to walk away, but then something else pinged in Constantine’s mind.
“Wait,” he barked.
Mr. Merlot paused in his steps and turned his head. “Your Grace?”
“You said that you and my brother have hauled ‘precious cargo’. What does that mean? What sort of business is Augustus involved in?”
Mr. Merlot’s smile was slow to form and positively wicked-looking.
“I am afraid that bit of information is far more expensive than the one you just paid for, Your Grace,” he replied. “And I assure you that such a sum is not even in your pockets at the moment. Despite how deep they may be for a duke.”
Constantine gritted his teeth, entirely discomfited by the answer. As Mr. Merlot turned to leave again, he did not stop him. In fact, he wanted to take Elara as far away from him as possible.
Her soft touch upon his shoulder sent a lightning bolt through him, and without a thought, he whirled around and embraced her. She gasped at the sudden closeness, but as he buried his face in her neck and inhaled her heavenly scent, she relaxed and embraced him.
“Constantine,” she whispered softly into his ear. “What is it? The man only had wonderful news for us.”
Despite how her soft voice made his desire for her roar up, he pulled away from her with a quickness, giving her a stern look. Her look of confusion shifted and matched his own expression, and she stepped back from him.
“Do not call me that,” he commanded.
Her brows rose in surprise.
“You prefer I address you formally?”
“No,” he answered hastily. “I just... I hate my name. I dislike it as much as I dislike the man we just met and want to be bothered by neither.”
Elara’s confusion deepened for a moment, but then her beautiful face smoothed into a look of curiosity as she folded her arms across her chest.
“I must admit I did not enjoy his presence either. He knows more than what he is saying, and there is something sinister about him,” she replied. “However, I cannot unfold that mystery at the moment. What I can do, though, is ask why you despise your given name?”
Constantine’s jaw ticked with stress as he closed his eyes and slowly let out a calming breath.
“I think it sounds ridiculous. Who names their children like that? Constantine, Augustus? Constantine, as you know, was the name of one great Roman emperor. It reminds me of the burden I must carry for my family. A burden I am already aware of, as I am the oldest son and already mantled with the heavy title of Duke.”
He let out a bitter laugh as he shook his head.
“However, knowing my parents, that is precisely why they named me as such. They never wanted me to forget the responsibilities I have to carry.”
Elara’s look, to his surprise, shifted to one of compassion.
“It is a heavy burden to be a duke,” she agreed.
“I have watched each of my brothers grow cold and commanding upon receiving the title. It was only the love of Bridget that brought Adrian back from that. I cannot begin to fathom what sorts of worries and decisions you must take upon yourselves. Not just for your family, but for an entire Dukedom of people.”
Constantine’s taut muscles relaxed a little, comforted by her understanding.
“It can grow quite wearisome,” he confessed. Feeling his tongue loosened by her show of compassion, he found himself going on. “Though it is smaller, sometimes the protection of the family is a greater task than commanding a dukedom.”
Elara said nothing, but quietly waited for him to continue.
“Augustus was always more spoiled than I,” he said with a weary sigh.
“That is not uncommon. Adoration and love are often left for the younger siblings in a noble family. But even as a young boy, Augustus was always getting himself into trouble, and it was always my responsibility to get him out of it. Even when he came into manhood. Before this mess with Evander, I had thought that he was starting to grow, but, as we have taken this journey, I fear he is still the young boy waiting for me to get him out of trouble.”
Constantine looked over his shoulder, toward the direction where Mr. Merlot had left. The man was long gone, but the sense of wariness Constantine had gotten from him still remained.
“The way he said precious cargo… it made me quite uneasy. I have protected my brother for as long as I have been able, but now, now I feel myself wanting to ignore my duty and drop this search.”
He paused, pressing his lips together as his mind whirled with all sorts of thoughts.
“What if you are right, Elara?” he asked. “What if my brother has gotten himself into something I cannot... or perhaps should not, protect him from?”
Elara studied him for a long moment, the act making him feel bare and small for the first time in his life. As if to her, he truly was just a man.
“I think,” Elara said, taking a step toward him. “That Augustus is a grown man. And a father. I think even without a title, he is required to take on a certain amount of responsibility of his own. Responsibilities that are not yours to take, Const... husband.”
His heart skipped a beat as she called him so. Husband. He liked that. Even if he could only bear the title for ten more days.
Elara took another step toward him and placed her hand on his chest, and without thought, he covered it with his own, keeping it there.
“I think that once we solve this mystery, you should try to make a change,” she said softly. “Not for his happiness, but for your own.”
“But if he needs protection...” he began to argue.
“If he needs protection, he is grown enough to protect himself,” Elara gently interrupted. “Furthermore, it seems it is time to ask yourself if it truly is protection, or if your interference is stalling him from just the consequences of his actions?”
Her words struck something deep within Constantine. He had never thought of that before. Yet here this woman was, speaking such wisdom as if these were life lessons she had known from the very beginning.
“You are smiling,” Elara pointed out, raising an amused brow. “Or smirking. I cannot tell. What are you thinking?”
Constantine’s grin widened as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.
“I am thinking that I never would have expected such sage advice to come from a woman who hates me so much,” he replied.
Elara tsked her tongue as a charming smile spread across her lips. She leaned into him, gazing up into his eyes with a mischievous sparkle.
“Perhaps I am starting to realize that I do not hate you as much as I thought I did, husband,” she said in a teasing tone.
Constantine chuckled as she let out a small giggle, feeling some of that long-standing weight lift from his shoulders; enough to cause him to bow his head toward her and softly kiss her lips.
This kiss, unlike the others, was not a struggle for power or fueled by overheated passion, but soft and tender. A sign that genuine care for each other was blossoming between them.
“Let us get home, shall we?” Constantine asked, stepping to her side so he could take her hand.
“Indeed,” Elara agreed, falling into step with him.
After only a couple of steps, Constantine could not help but look down at her, a soft smile on his face.
“I feel your eyes on me,” Elara said with a smirk, keeping her gaze straight on. “What is the matter?”
Constantine’s smile widened.
“I was only thinking,” he replied.
“Oh? Thinking what?” Elara asked.
“That perhaps one day I would not mind hearing my name so much,” he answered. “If you were the one saying it.”
Elara finally looked up at him with a smirk on her lips. She winked at him, and as they left the gardens, Constantine felt his heart beat faster again.