Pleasures of a Tempted Lady Page 5

  But now Sarah was gone forever. “She died this past winter,” she murmured in a shaky voice.

  Will’s fingers over her knee squeezed a touch harder. “I’m sorry.”

  She gave a tremulous nod. The look on his face prompted her to offer more information than she’d planned. “Jake was Sarah’s child. But I am his mother now that she is gone.”

  Will released a slow breath. “And his father is this captain you speak of?”

  She nodded.

  The muscles in his jaw tightened, but the rest of him remained perfectly still. “Meg.” His voice was quiet. “Do you understand that you have no legal right to take a child away from his father? That’s considered kidnapping.” He hesitated, then added, “It’s a hanging offense.”

  “I know.” Meg would keep her composure; she would not crumble under the weight of the horror dawning in Will’s eyes. She’d never wanted to disappoint Will. He was the person she respected above everyone else. “It’s one of the reasons I cannot return to England.”

  When he didn’t respond, she continued, “I had to take him away. Jake won’t survive with his father. And I won’t survive with him, either. We had to escape from his cruelty and violence.”

  Her voice was hard, with only a slight waver in the words. Caversham’s brutality had increased tenfold since Sarah’s death. In his warped way, he’d loved Sarah, and she’d kept his sanity in check. Now… Meg shuddered.

  “Who is he? I’ll find him, bring him to justice—”

  “No.” Meg couldn’t even begin to explain how impossible that would be.

  Stalemate. She and Will stared at each other.

  Finally, he murmured, “Do you miss your sisters, Meg? Because they still grieve for you.”

  She clasped her hands even more tightly in her lap. Her knuckles had turned white. “I miss them more than anything. But I won’t knowingly put them in danger.”

  “And I can’t imagine going to them and telling them that you’re alive and that you chose to hide in Ireland rather than go to them for help.”

  And the truth was obvious: he would, in fact, do just that if she went to Ireland. And, though eight years had passed, she knew her sisters. She knew Serena best of all. Serena would come looking for her. She’d probably lead Caversham right to them.

  “Don’t…” Meg choked. “Please.”

  “You’re alive, Meg. You’re sitting in front of me. I can’t keep that information from your family. You know I cannot.”

  Suddenly, the future spread out before her, ice cold and crystal clear.

  After eight years living in misery but knowing that at least she was keeping her family safe, she’d failed. In attempting to save Jake, she’d thrown her entire family into peril. Will, too, and there was no way he could truly understand the extent of the danger to him.

  She didn’t dare to explain it to him. It would endanger him even more.

  She let out a low groan and covered her face with her hands.

  “Meg?”

  “I’m so afraid,” she whispered, shutting her eyes tight.

  His fingers tightened over her knee again. “You’re not alone anymore. Your family is powerful, and they will stand behind you. I’ll stand behind you. There’s no reason to be afraid.”

  She let her fingers slide down her face, and she gazed at Will through bleak eyes. He had no idea.

  Chapter Four

  A few days later, they anchored at Plymouth. Will left the Freedom in Briggs’s capable hands, but he couldn’t resist gazing at his schooner where it sat anchored in the placid bay as he, Meg, and Jake drove away from the dock. He’d hired a carriage to take them to Exeter, where they’d sleep at an inn tonight before continuing on their way to Southampton and then London.

  When a row of buildings blocked his view of the ship, he glanced at the woman and boy sitting across from him in the forward-facing seat.

  For the past few days, Jake had taken to trailing behind Will as he went about his duties on the Freedom. Will had ignored him after the first several times he’d attempted to make conversation only to scare the boy back into his quarters and the safety of Meg.

  There was something odd about the boy. Something decidedly different. Will knew he was capable of speech, for he’d heard the child utter a few words to Meg. But as far as Will could tell, he hadn’t spoken to anyone else on the ship. He kept to himself, and while those wide blue eyes seemed to take in everything, he was skittish as a colt, and it was clear that he trusted Meg above all others.

  It was clear he loved Meg.

  For her part, Meg had spent most of her time diligently mending her dress so that it would be acceptable to wear in public. She’d done a fine job, but Will still thoroughly disliked the thing. It was inappropriate for her. It wasn’t that it was out of fashion—no, it was acceptable enough in that sense. But it didn’t seem right for Meg. It was far too… pink. When he thought of clothes for her, he thought of straight lines and elegance rather than lace and frippery.

  Will was doing his best to forget their old relationship and treat her as a new acquaintance. It was clear they’d both changed; they were different people now. Still, something about her drew him like a lure, just as it had before. It was something innately Meg, something her twin had never shared with her, something that hadn’t disappeared in eight long years.

  And his body hadn’t forgotten her, either. When she was near, he lived in a perpetual state of arousal. After suppressing the hotter side of his nature for so long, it was disconcerting and embarrassing. He could only hope no one had noticed it, but from Briggs’s raised eyebrows in the past few days, he was fairly certain at least one person had.

  He didn’t think Meg noticed. Most of the time, she studiously attempted to keep her attention on things other than him. He didn’t know why, but it made him want to reach out, cup her face in his hands, and make her look at him until he drew her face closer and bent down, and touched his lips to hers.

  The carriage rattled over a pothole, jerking Will’s attention from the fantasy.

  He moved into a more comfortable position, subtly adjusting himself in his seat, praying to God that she didn’t lower her gaze. Smiling at them, he said, “You’ll see your sisters again soon.”

  There was little enthusiasm in her tone when she answered. “Yes.”

  He gazed at her, realizing that she truly had no idea what she was heading into. Since she hadn’t known her sisters were in London, her knowledge of them must be extremely limited. She couldn’t be aware of her heightened social status due to her sisters’ marriages or that Serena had married Stratford.

  “How much do you know of your sisters’ current situation, Meg?” he asked gently.

  She pursed her lips, then said in a clipped voice, “Nothing at all.”

  Jake tugged on her arm, and she looked down to his questioning gaze. “Do you have a sister, Meg?”

  “I have four sisters, Jake. Serena, Phoebe, Olivia, and Jessica. Serena is my twin. She looks just like me. People used to confuse the two of us all the time.”

  “I didn’t,” Will said before he thought better of it. Her gaze jerked to him.

  “No,” she said softly. “You never did.”

  “Did you know that Serena has married?”

  Her eyes widened. “No.”

  “She married Jonathan Dane.”

  “What?” she gasped.

  “Yes. They married last year. He’s now the Earl of Stratford, which makes Serena a countess.”

  “Oh, my,” she murmured. “Oh, my goodness.” She looked out the window at the passing scenery of the Devonshire countryside. When she turned back to him, she was smiling. “I suppose that means she forgave him, then?”

  “She did. Although,” he added, chuckling, “it took some spectacular groveling on his part.”

  “I am so very happy for her—for them. Serena loved Jonathan very much. She was devastated when he cut her and we were sent back to Antigua. I thought she’d never smi
le again.”

  “She smiles now,” Will said. “Often.”

  “I’m just glad Serena didn’t reject him out of spite, though I imagine she was inclined to.”

  Again, she looked down at Jake. “My twin sister is married to an earl, Jake. Which means, she’s not just Serena anymore. She’s Lady Stratford.” She said the title with reverence, and her smile finally reached her eyes, shining there like polished silver.

  Will took another strengthening breath. Tell her. Tell her now before you’re in London and it’s too late.

  “Meg, you must know—” He hesitated, not knowing quite how to say this. “Well, you need to know that Serena… Well, she no longer goes by that name.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Oh, God. This was more difficult than he thought it would be. She was so beautiful, looking at him with that slight crease between her eyes. He wanted to press his thumb to it and make it smooth again. Instead, his news would probably deepen her concern, and that crease.

  “She’s… taken on your name.”

  She stared at him uncomprehendingly.

  “Her name now is Margaret Dane, Lady Stratford.”

  Meg’s expression didn’t change. She didn’t understand.

  “Everyone calls her Meg,” he continued. “Even your other sisters.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t—”

  “For the past two years,” he blurted, “she’s pretended to be you.”

  Meg sucked in a breath, then she wrenched her head to the side for long, silent moments. This time her eyes were vague and unfocused and he knew she wasn’t seeing the countryside. He remained quiet, allowing her to process the information, fighting with himself to keep from reaching for her and offering comfort.

  Bored with the conversation—or, rather, lack of conversation—Jake turned to his window and began to point at the grazing sheep they were passing, his lips moving as he counted in an undertone.

  Will remained still, quiet, sitting straight and stiff as the carriage rolled along beneath him. As much as he hated to be the bearer of this news, there was more that she wouldn’t like. So much more, and most of it would make him look like a fool in her eyes. No, more than a fool. A complete ass.

  He sighed, resolute and determined, as she turned back to him.

  “Why?” she asked, her voice quavering.

  Pain radiated in those stormy gray eyes, so sharp and compelling that Will couldn’t stop himself from touching her. He leaned forward and gathered her hands in his own, squeezing gently. “She was forced to. She was placed in an impossible situation—told that as Serena, she’d never be able to return to London, never make a good marriage, and worse, none of your sisters would have the opportunity, either.”

  “My mother told her this,” Meg said. It wasn’t a question, but Will answered as if it was.

  “Yes.”

  “Where is my mother now?”

  “Serena brought all your sisters to London, but your mother has remained in Antigua.”

  “So Serena… became me.” Meg blinked hard.

  “Yes.”

  “So who am I, Will?”

  “You’re Meg.” His answer was automatic, because who else could she be? He squeezed her hands in his own, running his thumbs soothingly over her palms. She had small, delicate hands, but for the first time, he saw the calluses and redness of her skin. The sight of those beautiful hands marred by work made him want to throttle the man—that unnamed captain—who’d done this to her.

  “I’m sure London society won’t look approvingly on twin sisters with the same name.” Her chest rose and fell on a heavy sigh, and she lowered her voice. “This isn’t a good idea. Please. Stop this folly, Captain Langley. Stop the carriage and allow me to go to Ireland like I’d planned.”

  Will glanced at the boy. His head rested against the back cushion, and he was still gazing outside, but his eyes were half closed. He was nearly asleep.

  He turned back to Meg. “Call me Will,” he murmured. “Like you did before.”

  She tore her gaze away from him. A blush crept across her cheeks. He wanted to touch her, to kiss away that warmth there. God, she was beautiful. Even more so than she’d been years ago. He’d thought her the most beautiful woman in the world then, but now… He couldn’t even pinpoint what it was about her. Everything, from her gold curls and the smattering of freckles across her nose, to her gray eyes and slender but curvaceous form, appealed to him.

  He’d grant her anything. Anything but what she’d just requested.

  “I’m not stopping this carriage. You need your family, and they need you.” He leaned forward, and his voice was firm, filled with the confidence that he wouldn’t fail her this time. “I know you’re afraid. But I’ll protect you. I promise.”

  She closed her eyes. “You don’t understand.”

  He fought off the annoyance that filled him at those words, and his voice was calm, matter-of-fact, when he said, “That’s because you’ve explained very little to me.”

  “Please know that that’s for your protection. I promise you. Please trust me.”

  Such anguish glowed in her eyes that his anger drained away instantly. “I do trust you, Meg,” he said softly. “The problem is, I don’t believe you trust me.”

  Will was right. She didn’t trust him. Through no fault of his own—he was the strongest, most steadfast man she’d ever known. But she’d spent so many years trusting only herself, Jake, and Sarah, that she’d forgotten how to let anyone else in. She’d forgotten how to trust. It wasn’t as simple as just opening up to him, either. She just might do that if she didn’t have Jake to worry about.

  Will cleared his throat, and when she glanced at him, he said, “There’s something else…”

  The obvious distress in his expression turned her blood cold. “I thought learning that my sister had stolen my identity would be enough for one day.”

  His brows rose at the cynical tone of her voice. She’d surprised him—the side of her that was a cynic hadn’t existed back when he’d known her.

  “It can wait,” he murmured, “but not for very long. It’s best I tell you this before we arrive in London. I’d prefer you hear it from me rather than…” His voice faded, and he glanced at Jake. Meg looked toward the little boy. His head had lolled forward uncomfortably. She plumped one of the carriage pillows on her lap, took Jake into her arms, and laid his head onto it.

  The boy shifted, and his eyes fluttered open, but she murmured to him, “Sleep, dearest,” and gently combed her fingers through his hair. Soon he drifted off again.

  “You care for him,” Will observed quietly.

  “He is everything to me.” Meg looked down at Jake, and love for him surged through her. He was so innocent, despite all the horror he’d experienced in his short life. And while most people thought him an idiot, Meg knew the opposite was true. She hadn’t known many children other than her younger sisters years ago, but in many ways his mind was more advanced than other children of his age. Surely few six-year-olds could work the difficult mathematical operations Jake could solve.

  She looked back up at Will. “He likes you.”

  Will shrugged, but his pleasure at her statement was clear in the tipping of his lips and the brightness of his dark eyes as he glanced fondly down at Jake.

  “Whatever it is, you should tell me,” she said, stroking the silky strands of the boy’s hair. “I might as well leap into the lion’s den as prepared as I can possibly be.”

  He flinched subtly at that. “Your sisters and their husbands aren’t lions.”

  “Their husbands?” Meg frowned. “My other sisters have married, too?”

  Will nodded gravely. “Phoebe is married to Mr. Sebastian Harper—he was once well known as a rake about town, but she has, much to my surprise, tamed him.”

  Meg could tell that Will had been involved in their relationship. How close was Will to her sisters, anyhow? Eight years ago, Serena had known him only on th
e most formal terms.

  “And Olivia is married to the Duke of Wakefield.”

  Jerked from her thoughts, Meg choked on the air she’d been inhaling. “What? Olivia?”

  He nodded, and she slumped back in her seat, her fingers stilling in Jake’s hair. “Sweet Olivia,” she mused. In truth, she’d been afraid to ask about Olivia. After a bout with malaria as a child, Olivia’s health had never been strong. And to think she’d married. To think she’d married a duke! “A duke?” she murmured. “Now that is something…”

  Will smiled. “It is indeed. They are very happy together, too.”

  “How long have they been married?”

  “Only three months. But they are famous in London.” He chuckled. “Your sister’s illness has gone public, and contrary to expectation, people have gloried in the romance of it all. It’s said theirs is the most romantic society match of the century.”

  “Really?”

  Will nodded.

  “And what about Jessica? She’s only nineteen. Is she married, too?”

  “No, not Jessica. Although your brothers-in-law have been fighting off suitors by the horde.”

  “Well, that’s not a surprise.” Jessica was not only the most beautiful, but she also possessed the most outgoing, gregarious nature of all the Donovan sisters. Meg had always predicted that when Jessica came of age, it would be a struggle to keep her free from scandal.

  “I’m glad she’s not married,” Meg murmured. “She’s too young.”

  “You sound like your sisters,” Will said. “But no one’s worried. No man has struck Jessica’s fancy yet.”

  Meg narrowed her eyes. “You seem very well versed in the goings-on in my family, Captain Langley.”

  “I am well versed in the lives of all of your sisters.”

  “How did that come to pass?”

  “Well…” He gave her an uncomfortable smile. “It has to do with that bit of news I think you should know.” He hesitated, then asked, “Are you certain you want to know? Are you sure it’s not too much for one day?”