Chapter Seventeen #4
Marcus stared blankly at him.
Justin turned to Jack. “You know how women are.”
“Oh, indeed, m'lord. Indeed, I do.”
Justin produced a roll of banknotes from his pocket. “How much did you pay her?”
Jack picked up the paper. “Here it is.” He pointed a bony finger at the figure scrawled in the bottom corner of the paper. “Five sovereign.”
Justin counted out ten pound notes. “I trust this will account for your efforts.”
Jack's eyes glittered. “Aye, m'lord. Indeed, it will, indeed, it will.”
He snatched up the notes as though expecting Justin to change his mind and stuffed them into his pocket. He rewrapped the ring, then produced a small wooden box from beneath the counter and placed the ring inside. He looked at Marcus and extended the box toward him.
“There you go, m'lord. As good as new.”
Marcus took the box.
“Good day to you,” Justin said, and looked at Marcus. “Come along, my good fellow. You'd best get back and deal with this matter straight away.”
Jack snickered, but Marcus paid no heed as he followed the earl out the door. Justin took a few steps on the walkway, then stopped, looking toward the east.
“What is it?” Marcus demanded, following his line of sight along the busy dock.
Justin looked in the opposite direction. “We left Kiernan hours ago. I expected him before this.”
“He is on his way to London as I instructed.”
Justin grunted. “You don't know your son as well as you might think.”
“What matters is that he knows me. I will make good on my threat to have him bound and taken back to Brahan Seer.”
“It doesn't matter if you threatened to dismember the boy, he will appear sooner or later. You should hope for sooner; that will allow you to keep him under your watchful eye.”
Marcus didn't reply. Instead, he opened the box containing the ring and removed it from the velvet wrapping.
His heartbeat raced. The ring had been given to Elise by another man, but it belonged to her—was once a part of her.
He closed his fingers into a fist around the ring.
The cold metal warmed within his grasp. If he held the only remaining part of her, he could once again hold her.
“There is much in her past,” Marcus said to himself.
“You're thinking of Price Ardsley,” Justin said.
Marcus looked up sharply. “He's here. Or was.”
“There is something going on with him.”
“Imagine if she one day demanded the twenty-five per cent interest in Landen Shipping.”
“By God, Marcus,” Justin exclaimed. “You're as rich as the devil himself and still landed yourself an heiress.”
Marcus started.
“Bloody hell,” Justin muttered. “Deem me the fool I am. The words were out of my mouth before my brain could catch up.”
Marcus gave a tired smile. “An uncommon state of mind for you.”
Justin sighed, then gave him a long look. “You are going to America, then?”
“You won't dissuade me.”
Justin nodded. “It is only right her brother know what this Price Ardsley is made of.”
“I owe her that much,” Marcus replied. His mouth tightened. “By now the body is buried. Aye,” he said when his cousin opened his mouth to comment. “I should have been there.”
“I can't blame you for being unable to bear seeing her lain in the ground.”
Marcus gave a harsh laugh. “She will still be in the grave when I return.”
Justin gazed at the ships in the harbor. “We had better see the harbormaster.”
Marcus looked at him. “We? Nae, Justin. You aren't coming.”
The earl started forward. “I would say his office is where we entered the docks.”
Marcus hurried forward. Within arm's reach, he grasped Justin's shoulder and forced Justin to face him. “I didn't ask you to come.”
His expression remained impassive. “Of course not.”
“I will not have you risking your life.”
“Will you have me bound and sent back to Whycham House?”
“By God,” Marcus burst out, “if that's what it takes.”
Mild amusement crossed Justin's face. “You know me even less than your son.”
“Sophie will not allow this.”
“I already sent Sophie word I would be accompanying you to America.”
Marcus gaped.
“I'm not a complete fool,” Justin said.
“She won't be pleased.”
“She won't be pleased we left her behind.” Justin began walking.
“Justin!” Marcus strode after him.
* * *
The following morning, Marcus leaned against the railing of the Sallinger, absently fingering the wedding band in his trouser pocket.
He stared across the harbor at the docks.
The shouts of drivers in passing hackneys, dock workers, and merchants buying and selling wares faded into the background, replaced by a quiet whoosh as the brigantine skimmed through the water.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he looked over his shoulder to see Justin approach.
“The captain has been kind enough to extend an invitation for breakfast,” Justin said.
Marcus nodded. He glanced past the masts at the sun. Eleven years had passed since he'd last been outside Great Britain, fourteen since crossing the Atlantic. He squinted against the sunlight. A month from now, he would be seeing this same sun from Boston Harbor.
Only, it wouldn't be with Elise.