Lord Trent: Love's Price Part 15

"I'm not a child, so don't treat me like one. Don't lie to me."

He appeared as if he'd hurl a scathing retort, then he thought better of it.

"Someone is following us."

Her eyes widened with dismay. "Pirates?"

"Maybe. They never approach near enough for us to see."

"Might they attack us?"

"I suppose anything is possible."

She blanched. "Should I be frightened?"

"On my s.h.i.+p?" He huffed, insulted. "Don't be ridiculous."

"But what if they-"

"Harriet, I've been sailing for over two decades. They'll never catch us, but if they got lucky, my crew is trained for battle. We haul too much cargo to let some bandit make off with it, and though you think I'm extremely wealthy, I couldn't absorb the loss. I'm a master swordsman and marksman myself. You're perfectly safe."

She glanced at the weapons he'd just donned, and despite their lethal condition, she didn't feel safe. Suddenly, stories about Barbary pirates and African harems sprang to mind.

What if she was captured? What if she never returned to England? What if she never saw Helen again?

"You're distraught," he said, stating the obvious. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared."

"You? Scared?" He chuckled. "You're not afraid of anything, remember?"

"I'm afraid of this. I don't like being out on the water. I don't like being trapped down here where I never know what's happening."

"You'll be fine," he insisted very gently. "I swear it to you. I would protect you with my life. Don't worry."

He pulled her close and thrilled her by giving her a pa.s.sionate, desperate kiss, then he picked her up and set her aside.

He marched out, and she was left to fret and panic all alone.

CHAPTER NINE.

"Yes, Miss Stewart works for me."

James glared at the handsome young man who sat across from him.

"Marvelous. I'm so glad I found her."

"And you are...?"

"Her cousin, Nigel Stewart."

"Well, Mr. Stewart"-James tried to look very stern, very forbidding-"I am a hard taskmaster, and I'm puzzled as to why I should permit Miss Stewart a break from her duties merely to speak with you."

"We'd lost touch, and I've been very worried about her."

"Have you?"

"Yes."

James studied Stewart. He was dressed at the height of fas.h.i.+on, wearing an expensive jacket, polished boots, and a perfectly-tied cravat. His color was high, his hair tousled, as if he'd been out riding. It gave him a das.h.i.+ng air that James was sure would tantalize many foolish females.

But despite his proper comportment, James didn't like Mr. Stewart and was wary of allowing him access to Helen, which was silly. Helen was an adult and completely capable of receiving guests without James interfering.

James wasn't certain why he'd insisted on meeting with Stewart, but when the butler had announced that Helen had a visitor, James had been too intrigued for his own good. He knew very little about Helen. She never discussed herself or her past. It was as if she'd sprung from nowhere, and he suspected that if she was less of a mystery, maybe he wouldn't be so enamored.

And here was Nigel Stewart! Like a gift! If James asked the right questions, Stewart would provide buckets of information, but James couldn't appear to be prying. He was supposed to simply be Helen's employer, so he couldn't act too interested.

"Where are you from, Mr. Stewart?"

"My estate-it's called Brookhaven-is a few hours south of London."

"Miss Stewart grew up there?"

"Yes."

"Why did she leave?"

"It's a rather difficult story," Stewart contended. "I would hate to bore you with the details."

James was instantly alert. "Is there something in Miss Stewart's background I should know? She serves as my ward's companion. If she's not suitable for the position, I ought to be apprised, don't you think?"

"Well..."

"Spit it out, Mr. Stewart."

"I'm loathe to get her into trouble. The scandal wasn't her fault, and I wouldn't want you to...blame her for it."

"For what?"

Stewart dithered, looking torn, and James was incensed. Was the pathetic weasel deliberately attempting to have Helen fired? What kind of cousin was he?

"Tell me, Mr. Stewart. I haven't got all day."

"There was a situation involving her mother."

"What was it?"

"As a girl, she traveled to London for her debut. She was introduced to...ah...an aristocrat who took a fancy to her. She wasn't chaperoned as carefully as she might have been."

"What are you insinuating? That the man seduced her?"

"Yes, I guess I am."

James didn't know how Stewart accomplished it, but he blushed, as if embarra.s.sed by the admission, but James was positive the revelation had been intentionally made.

"I gather that the father didn't marry the mother."

"No."

"So Miss Stewart is illegitimate."

"Yes."

"And who was the dastardly cad you're claiming to be her father?"

"I'm not sure it would be appropriate for me to say."

"Then why bring it up at all? Unless you're just trying to annoy me and waste my time?"

Stewart flushed an even deeper shade of red, and he gazed at James, pretending to be confused about how to proceed. Finally, he sighed and confessed, "You probably know him. He's quite notorious."

"What is his name?"

"Charles Sinclair, Earl of Trent."

James was so astonished that he was amazed he didn't collapse onto the floor in a stunned heap. Somehow, he managed to remain poised and in control. His face was an expressionless mask-even though, inside, he was teeming with rage.

Lord Trent was the blackguard who had run off to Paris with James's mother, then abandoned her once she discovered she was increasing with his b.a.s.t.a.r.d son.

Trent-the most infamous rogue in the land-was Helen's father? Beautiful, wonderful Helen Stewart was Trent's natural daughter?

If James hadn't been so determined to keep Mr. Stewart from witnessing any reaction, he might have been ill.

James detested Trent as he detested no other human being. James's entire gambling scheme was implemented with one goal in mind: to gain some vengeance by financially ruining Trent.

James wanted to deny the truth about Helen, wanted to tell himself that Nigel Stewart was lying, but he thought about her and realized that-with her golden blond hair and big green eyes-she was the spitting image of Trent and of Trent's son, Phillip Sinclair.

Did she carry the mark on her wrist? He'd never had cause to check, but he wouldn't be surprised to find it on her arm.

Was she aware of her connection to the Sinclairs? Had she ever been apprised that they were related? And what did the news mean to James?

He was overly infatuated with Helen. Would her antecedents change anything between them? Would he be any less besotted? Any less obsessed?

The answer was a resounding no, and if he could learn that she was Trent's child and still desire her as much as he did, his fixation was very dangerous indeed.

Obviously, Mr. Stewart had exposed the secret for a reason. He wanted to shock James into terminating Helen. But why? What purpose would be served by such reprehensible behavior?

"Lord Trent is an acquaintance of mine," James stated.

"Then you know what he's like."

"I certainly do."

"I hope this information won't reflect badly on Helen. As I said, she can hardly be blamed for her mother's conduct two decades ago."

"She has been an exemplary employee."

"So...you won't be firing her?"

"No."

"Oh, I'm so relieved to hear it. I haven't seen her in ages, and I'd hate to have my sudden appearance create any difficulties."

"You seem to be a prosperous fellow, Mr. Stewart, which indicates that Miss Stewart is from a family of some affluence. How is it that she's here alone in the city, and reduced to working for a living?"

"As she was growing up, my grandfather provided for her and her sister-she has a twin sister named Harriet-but when he died, he hadn't made any arrangements for them. My father was the heir, and he chose not to continue supporting them."

"He chose not to?"

"I'm ashamed to admit it, but he was awful about the whole affair."

"I concur. So Miss Stewart and her sister were cast to the winds of Fate?"

"Yes, but I feel terrible about how they were treated, and now, with my father having pa.s.sed on, I'd like to make amends."

"Would you?"

"Yes. I'm here to notify her that she's welcome at Brookhaven again. Will she be having a holiday soon? My mother and I would love to have her visit."

"I don't let my staff have time off," James lied.

He was actually quite a generous boss, always agreeable when servants had family events or tragedies to attend. But at finding out that Helen had people who would take her in, he was unaccountably disturbed.

She stayed with him because she believed she had nowhere else to go, and he didn't want Stewart offering her a different option, a different life.

If she knew her cousin was wrangling to bring her back into the family fold, what might she do? The next time James aggravated her, the next time Miranda hurt her, she'd have a waiting refuge, and he'd have no way to stop her from fleeing to it.

And what about Trent? Phillip Sinclair was on a mission to locate Trent's scattered children. What if Helen learned that Trent might set up a trust fund for her? What if she learned she could have a dowry? She'd be able to...to...marry! The notion was alarming on so many levels that he couldn't tabulate them all.

"I realize I've imposed horridly," Stewart was saying, "but might I speak with her before I go? I promise I'll be brief."

James was about to deny the request, when the butler strolled in and announced, "Miss Stewart is here, milord."