Lord Sinister (Secrets & Scandals Book 3) (4 page)

The memories faded and Amelia opened her eyes.  Slowly, she glanced to the men conversing softly near the door, and her heart nearly quit. 
Oh, God!
  Lord Julian Westland.  There was no mistaking the man.  Standing there in a white shirt opened at the neck and tucked into tight-fitting black pantaloons, he was even more sinfully handsome than she remembered.

Her gaze slid away, and she grew angry even thinking such thoughts.  Certainly, she had a great deal more to consider, such as being stranded on a ship with the very man who could cause her son a great deal of misery.  Her eyes closed tightly, until pinpricks of light exploded behind her lids.  She wanted to wake from this nightmare.  Surely this had to be a nightmare.  Fate couldn’t be so cruel, could it?  Out of all the ships in port, why did she and Alex have to board this one?  What if Julian guessed the truth?  Oh, God, what if Alex guessed the truth?  Panic shot through her.  What was she going to do?  What was Julian going to do?

Drawing in a shaky breath, she opened her eyes and forced herself to calm.  This would just have to be dealt with.  Another obstacle to be worked out like the thousand before.  That was all.  Everything would be all right.

After repeating her ‘everything would be all right’ mantra about ten times to herself, Amelia felt slightly better.  And as her pulse quit roaring in her ears, she could just make out what the older man speaking to Julian was saying.

“…Been suffering malnutrition for some time, Master.  Perhaps months.  And now, I detect she’s gone without food and water for many days.  She must have nourishment without delay.”

“And the boy?” Julian asked after a brief pause.

Amelia bit the inside of her cheek.  Alex!  Oh, please, please don’t have Julian guess the truth.  She would not abide anyone speaking cruel words to her son or hurting him in any way.  Alex had been through enough hardship already.

“The boy is in excellent health.” The man shook his dark head, streaks of gray glistened at the temples from the movement.  “A direct contrast to his mother.”

As the elder man turned to leave, Amelia glanced around the cabin for Alex.  Where was her son?  Then she spotted him sleeping on a chair at the far left corner of the room, a blanket nestled around him.  Her clamoring heart settled back into her chest.

Footsteps drew her attention.  Amelia turned back to the doorway.  So much for her settled heart.  Julian hastened toward her with a large tray in his hands, his expression severe.  Her mouth went dry.

Fighting back the urge to cringe took nearly all the willpower she possessed.  But Amelia somehow managed to keep her eyes locked on his without wavering or turning away.  She would not revert back into that weak, foolish girl.  Not now.  Not ever.

Wordlessly, he set the tray down on the nearby table, flickered a glance in Alex’s direction, then took the chair beside the bed as she sat up and scooted her back against the pillows.  Before she could ask anything, the mouth-watering aroma of beef broth and freshly-baked bread filled the air, making her stomach grumble.

She drew her brows, trying to concentrate on the right words to demand Julian leave.  The bread distracted her way too much.  She wanted to grab it up and cram it into her mouth.  How long had it been since she knew the sensation of a full belly?  She honestly couldn’t recall.

Julian pressed something cool into her hands.  The shock of his touch made her jump, but she managed to hold back her gasp.  She glanced down at the glass of water, then back up, stunned by the gesture.  “What is this?” she asked in what sounded like a croak, her throat so rusty.

Something sparked in his eyes and he cocked his head to the side.  “What’s the matter, Amelia? Afraid I’d give you poison?”

“Now that is something,” she lifted the glass to her lips, “I wouldn’t put past you.”

A smile played at the corners of his lips and twinkled in his eyes.  Amelia froze.  Dear God in heaven, the man had to be more handsome than Lucifer himself.  And just as dangerous to the soul.  Julian had the sort of looks that made women turn into witless, jabbering magpies.  She’d seen it happen years ago, and would wager her left arm it happened still.

At her hesitation, he sighed.  “It’s merely water, Amelia.  Drink it.”

Feeling rather foolish for the direction her thoughts had taken her, she took a large gulp, closing her eyes as the cool liquid slid down her parched throat.  Careful to save some for Alex, she took only two more sips before lowering the glass.

Julian’s dark brows snapped together.  “You must drink all of it.”

She shook her head.  “Alex needs—”

“For God’s sake, Amelia,” he chided softly, “I have more water.  Now drink it all.”

Her cheeks flooded with heat.  Because she had no other way to hide her discomfort, she raised the glass back to her lips and drank all of the water.

He took the empty glass and surprised her with the satisfaction she detected in his eyes.  Then he set the tray in her lap and lifted his right brow.

There was no way she could resist that fresh bread.  Resisting the urge to snatch up the entire plate, she took one piece and slowly brought it to her mouth, reminding herself not to gobble it up.  After she had eaten until she felt near to busting, she glanced again at Alex.  He slept so soundly, his thick, dark lashes resting against his cheeks.  She sighed, grateful to see him safe.  For the moment.

“It’s time, Amelia.  It’s time you told me everything.”

His low command caused warning bells to clamor in her head.  She stiffened and slowly turned back to Julian as a spark of anger ignited in her chest, burning with fierce protectiveness for her son.  “I owe you nothing, my lord.” She spoke the words with soft conviction, damn proud of herself.  It had taken many years to develop a spine.

His face hardened, as if he were about to argue, then flicked a glance at Alex and back.  “I must hear the words.”  His gaze speared her with insistence, demanding she obey.  “I must hear them from you.”

Amelia resisted the urge to give in, although it took an incredible amount of strength. Her eyes drooped and she sagged against the pillows.  “I am rather tired, my lord,” she said as fatigue overwhelmed her.  “I haven’t the strength to speak to you now.”  She pulled the soft covers that smelled too much like Lord Julian up to her chin and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to pull her under.  Prudently, she decided not to inform the noble marquess she would never tell him what he wanted to know.  For it took all the willpower she possessed to keep the words she really wanted to say behind her teeth.  Most especially words that included his burning in the fiery pits of hell for all eternity with all the other sinister cads of the world.

****

Julian closed his eyes and allowed the cool evening breeze to wash over him, his thoughts spinning out of control like a whirlwind.  He wanted to stay and demand that Amelia tell him everything, but he hadn’t wanted to wake Alexander.

And he wasn’t at all certain he wanted to hear the truth just yet.  Even though he knew it.  But hearing the words, having his thoughts confirmed, would change his life.  From that moment on, nothing would ever be the same.

He would also have to face something else.  Something that may very well eat him up with guilt and remorse.  He would have to face what he had done to Amelia.  A searing jolt of shame tore through his middle at the admission.  He bowed his head and fought the memories of the past.  But they pushed through anyway, and he gritted his teeth, recalling every damn detail of what he had done.  For the entire two days he waited for Amelia to show up at his doorstep, he had worked up his anger to a white-hot fury, reliving Diana’s warning over and over in his mind.  By the time Amelia’s name was announced at the door, he barely let her get two words in.  First, he scolded her for coming to him to spout her lies.  Then he told her to get out and never return as he stabbed a finger at the door.  Her stunned eyes had filled with tears just before she fled, never to be seen or heard from.  Until now.

Julian had believed an ugly lie about Amelia, and he had been wrong.  Terribly wrong.  But there was no going back to correct the horrible mistake.  He could only go forward.

“We’ve dodged the storm, Master.”

Opening his eyes, Julian straightened and turned to his first mate.  He cleared his throat, trying to focus on the present.  “Aye, I’ve noticed.  Good work, Lucas.”  Reading the expression on the younger man’s face, he released a sigh.  “What?”

Lucas squinted.  “Am I that readable?”

“Like the
Times
,” he said, crossing his arms.  “What’s on your mind?”

“The two who sneaked aboard, sir.” His first mate paused, his gaze sliding away.  “There’s talk among the men.  And, well, we were wondering…?”

“Who they are?” he finished.

Looking even more ill at ease, Lucas nodded.

Taking a deep sigh, Julian stared out across the endless stretch of sea.  Watching the sun sink lower into the horizon, its distorted red-gold reflection dancing over the water’s surface, he tried to form an answer.  The dark storm clouds at the ship’s aft flickered and glowed with lightning, catching his attention.  If one could see his insides, one would no doubt see something very similar.  “Amelia is an old acquaintance whom I haven’t seen in years.” He glanced back to his first mate.  That would be all the explanation he would give.

Lucas’s shoulders drooped, obviously disappointed with the vague answer, but nodded.  “Understood, Master.”

As the man walked away, Julian blew out a breath.  Hell, he didn’t even understand.  He turned back to the rail and settled his hands over the cool wood.  He would get to the bottom of what had happened, though.  His fingers dug into the railing as something became clear, and anger surged up his middle.  Diana had been the liar, not Amelia.

Listening to the rhythmic whir of the waves splashing against the hull, Julian gained control over his raging emotions.  He watched the darkness chase all the sun’s light from the sky and the half-moon rise high overhead.  Unable to concentrate on anything else, he summoned every moment he’d shared with Amelia ten years ago.  How easily he could recall those memories unsettled him.  Especially since he couldn’t remember one blasted feature of the woman he’d spent all night with just before leaving New York.  Not even a name.  Yet he knew Amelia had a small tan mole behind her left ear.  The top of her head came exactly to the tip of his chin.  And she had the tiniest hands and feet of anyone he ever knew. 

He drew in an unsteady breath.  There were so many other details he could remember about her.  Her eyes matched the bluest blue waters near the Caribbean islands and she had a secret love of gothic horror novels.  She hated to sing, but she loved to dance.

Julian breathed in the cold night air as it whipped through his hair and stung his cheeks.  His thoughts turning to the boy.  His son.

Why did Amelia run off to America if she carried his child?  And if she’d intended to travel there to inform her father, why hadn’t she returned with the man?  Why the deuce hadn’t they shown up at his door demanding a bloody marriage ceremony?

“That’s Pisces to the west, Cetus directly below.”

Startled at the unexpected words, Julian glanced down at his right.  Alexander stood beside him.  The boy’s face, bathed in the moonlight’s blue glow, was tipped up, his eyes twinkling as brightly as the smattering of stars overhead, his lips parted in wonder.

“And there,” Alexander pointed north, “is Draco.  Do you see it, sir?”

Slowly, Julian looked up and found the constellation.  “Yes, I see it.” His throat grew thick.  “You like looking at the stars?”

Keeping his attention on the night sky, Alexander nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, sir.  I’m going to be a great astronomer someday.” Then his face fell and he turned away.  “That is, if we can ever afford it.  Sending me to school, I mean.”

Julian frowned, once again observing the child’s tattered clothes.  And not for the first time, he wondered why Amelia and Alexander were dressed so poorly.  She had a wealthy family.  Very wealthy.  Surely, the Wesson fellow she married had been equally affluent.  After all, that had been her intention when she tried duping him ten years ago.

Only, she hadn’t tried duping him.

Some odd sensation filled his chest and he lifted his hand to the burning, prickly area near his heart.  It was remorse, he realized, and swallowed hard to refocus his thoughts.  He glanced around and found they were alone.  No one would hear them.  An opportunity arose.  If Amelia wouldn’t give him the answers he sought, perhaps Alexander would.  He glanced back up to the sky and casually asked, “How long are you and your mother going to be in England?”

“Forever, sir.  We are making England our new home.” The boy’s face lit up and he pointed toward the stars.  “Oh, look, sir, there’s Orion.  He’s my favorite.”  He turned.  “What’s yours?”

“What’s my what?” Julian asked, distracted by his thoughts.

Alexander grinned.  “What’s your favorite constellation?”

“Hercules,” he admitted.  “But he won’t come into view for another three hours.”

The boy nodded.  “Hercules is my second favorite.”  He pulled a face.  “Mama’s favorite is—”

“Andromeda,” Julian replied without thought.

Those gray eyes, so much like his own, widened.  “That’s right.  How’d you know?”