And keep an eye out for
SEVEN YEARS TO SIN by Sylvia Day,
coming next month!
SEVEN YEARS TO SIN by Sylvia Day,
coming next month!
A
listair Caulfield’s back was to the door of his warehouse shipping
office when it opened. A salt-tinged gust blew through the space,
snatching the manifest he was about to file right out of his
hand.
He caught it deftly, then looked over
his shoulder. Startled recognition moved through him.
“Michael.”
The new Lord Tarley’s eyes widened
with equal surprise, then a weary half-smile curved his mouth.
“Alistair, you scoundrel. You didn’t tell me you were in
Town.”
“I’ve only just returned.” He slid the
parchment into the appropriate folder and pushed the drawer closed.
“How are you, my lord?”
Michael removed his hat and ran a hand
through his dark brown hair. The assumption of the Tarley title
appeared to weigh heavily on his broad shoulders, grounding him in
a way Alistair had never seen before. He was dressed somberly in
shades of brown, and he flexed his left hand, which bore the Tarley
signet ring, as if he could not accustom himself to having it
there. “As well as can be expected under the
circumstances.”
“My condolences to you and your
family. Did you receive my letter?”
“I did. Thank you. I meant to reply,
but time is stretched so thin. The last year has raced by so
quickly; I’ve yet to catch my breath.”
“I understand.”
Michael nodded. “I’m pleased to see
you again, my friend. You have been gone far too
long.”
“The life of a merchant.” He could
have delegated more, but staying in England meant crossing paths
with both his father and Jessica. His father complained about
Alistair’s success as a tradesman with as much virulence as he’d
once complained about Alistair’s lack of purpose. It was a great
stressor for his mother, which he was only able to alleviate by
being absent as much as possible.
As for Jessica, she’d been careful to
avoid him whenever they were in proximity. He had learned to
reciprocate when he saw how marriage to Tarley changed her. While
she remained as cool in deportment as ever, he’d seen the
blossoming of her sensual nature in the languid way she moved and
the knowledge in those big, gray eyes. Other men coveted the
mystery of her, but Alistair had seen behind the veil and
that was the woman he
lusted for. Forever beyond his reach in reality, but a fixture in
his mind. She was burned into his memory by the raging hungers and
impressionableness of youth, and the years hadn’t lessened the
vivid recollection one whit.
“I find myself grateful for your
enterprising sensibilities,” Michael said. “Your captains are the
only ones I would entrust with the safe passage of my sister-in-law
to Jamaica.”
Alistair kept his face impassive by
considerable practice, but the sudden awareness gripping him tensed
his frame. “Lady Tarley intends to travel to Calypso?”
“Yes. This very morning, which his why
I’m here. I intend to speak to the captain myself and see he looks
after her until they arrive.”
“Who travels with her?”
“Only her maid. I should like to
accompany her, but I can’t leave now.”
“And she will not delay?”
“No.” Michael’s mouth curved wryly.
“And I cannot dissuade her.”
“You cannot say no to her,” Alistair
corrected, moving to the window through which he could view the
West India docks. Ships entered the Northern Dock to unload their
precious imports, then sailed around to the Southern Dock to reload
with cargo for export. Around the perimeter, a high brick wall
deterred the rampant theft plaguing the London wharves, which
increased his shipping company’s appeal to West Indian landowners
requiring secure carriage of goods.
“Neither can Hester—forgive me,
Lady
Regmont.”
The last was said with difficulty.
Alistair had long suspected his friend nursed deeper feelings for
Jessica’s younger sister and had assumed Michael would pay his
addresses. Instead, Hester had been presented at court then
immediately betrothed, breaking the hearts of many hopeful would-be
swains. “Why is she so determined to go?”
“Benedict bequeathed the property to
her. She claims she must see to its sale personally. I fear the
loss of my brother has affected her deeply and she seeks a purpose.
I’ve attempted to anchor her, but duty has me stretched to wit’s
end.”
Alistair’s reply was carefully
neutral. “I can assist her in that endeavor. I can make the
necessary introductions, as well as relay information it would take
her months to find.”
“A generous offer.” Michael’s gaze was
searching. “But you just returned. I can’t ask you to depart again
so soon.”
Turning, Alistair said, “My plantation
borders Calypso, and I could use the expansion. It’s my hope to
position myself as the best purchaser of the property. I will pay
her handsomely, of course.”
Relief swept over Michael’s expressive
features. “That would ease my mind considerably. I’ll speak to her
at once.”
“Perhaps you should leave that to me.
If, as you say, she needs a purpose, then she’ll want to maintain
control of the matter in all ways. She should be allowed to set the
terms and pace of our association to suit her. I have all the time
in the world, but you do not. See to your most pressing affairs,
and entrust Lady Tarley to me.”
“You’ve always been a good friend,”
Michael said. “I pray you return to England swiftly and settle for
a time. I could use your ear and head for business. In the interim,
please encourage Jessica to write often and keep me abreast of the
situation. I should like to see her return before we retire to the
country for the winter.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Alistair waited several minutes after
Michael departed, then moved to the desk. He began a list of new
provisions for the journey, determined to create the best possible
captive environment. He also made some quick but costly adjustments
to the passenger list, moving two additional travelers to another
of his ships.
He and Jessica would be the only
non-crewmen aboard the Acheron.
She would be within close proximity
for weeks—it was an extraordinary opportunity Alistair was
determined not to waste.