Chapter 16

16

“My lord,a room for you and your lovely wife?” asked the innkeeper who stood before Spencer and Joanna.

He was a stout, barrel-bellied man who glanced greedily at Spencer’s gorgeous carriage with the heraldry of Grandhampton shining in the firelight. They stood in the dark coach yard illuminated by several torches before the Boar and Blackbird. The inn was a large two-story building, with a thatched roof and wooden beams. A warm glow emanated from its windows, casting a soft yellow-orange light onto the yard.

Joanna looked at the innkeeper sharply.

“Two rooms, please,” she said quickly before Spencer could add anything.

“Two?” The innkeeper frowned. “I’m very sorry, my lady, but I only have one room remaining.”

“Then my husband will have to sleep in the stables,” Joanna said.

They had just spent the past hour asking around the streets next to the Pottinger Shipping Company about a man with a wooden eye and white sideburns, and gotten a confirmation that it was, indeed, Mr. Pottinger. They even got the man’s address, but the house stood quiet and closed, and they didn’t want to break into another building. Plus, they needed Pottinger to cooperate and answer their questions, and scaring him further wouldn’t accomplish that.

Finally, they drove out of Tilbury in search of the inn Carl had heard about. Joanna was exhausted and looked forward to a room and a soft bed. She was determined to not let Spencer seduce her again, no matter how good it had felt to be in his arms last night.

“One room will suffice,” said Spencer with a polite smile. “My wife is obviously jesting—she will not let her husband sleep in the stables. However, I will need a place in the stables for my horses and my man.” He nodded to Carl.

“Of course, my lord,” said Carl, and Joanna wondered if there was anything he wouldn’t do for his master.

“Spencer!” Joanna hissed under her breath as she kicked him in the boot. He winced, moving his foot away from her. “I will not share a room with you!”

“We will take the room,” Spencer said to the innkeeper as he wrapped his arm around Joanna’s waist and pulled her close to his side. “My wife is cross with me, that is all.”

“Of course,” the innkeeper said, throwing a curious look at Joanna. “Lord—”

“Hades—” he murmured and interrupted himself, coughing, clearly thinking on the fly. “Hadecliff. Mr. and Mrs. Hadecliff.”

“You are delusional if you think I’ll stay in the same room with you, especially in a public place!” she hissed.

“You’re welcome to the stables, then, darling,” said Spencer, and Joanna clenched her jaw in helpless rage.

“I’ll take care of the horse and the carriage,” Carl said. “Send for me if you require anything.”

“Thank you, Carl,” said Spencer warmly. “Good night.”

The innkeeper looked back at the carriage. “No maids? Or valets?”

“No,” said Spencer. “Who needs a valet when one has such a wonderful wife as I do.” His gaze brushed over her, igniting her blood. “And I am perfectly capable of helping her out of her garments.”

While Joanna was burning in embarrassment and unwanted desire, the innkeeper nodded, businesslike and not affected by his words at all.

“Very well,” said the innkeeper. “If you will follow me…” He started walking and Spencer followed him, having given Joanna an amused glance. “The bedchamber has an excellent mattress. It’s been much recommended by, ahem…such respectable husbands and wives as yourselves.”

“I’m afraid my Mr. Hadecliff might not enjoy the comfort of your good mattress,” said Joanna as she followed them, wondering how she could possibly get out of this situation Spencer had put her in. He was forcing her to share a bedroom with him again…

Part of her was concerned about her virtue and reputation, while another, larger part of her was doing little flips at the memory of what he’d done to her body…and anticipating more.

“Oh?” asked Spencer as he turned his head over his shoulder to gaze at her with his dark and devious gaze. “What did I do this time, wife?”

She rolled her eyes and hurried closer so that he could hear her but the innkeeper could not. “I wish you had consulted with me before declaring me your wife. A separate room for me would have been much safer in case someone recognizes either of us. We are not that far from London.”

“Do you not think I’ll keep you safe from gossip and ruin, Mrs. Hadecliff?” he murmured, chuckling. “Besides, I wouldn’t sleep well at all knowing you’re all alone in another room without my protection, where anything might endanger you or your calm.”

She shook her head and raised an eyebrow. “At the moment, sir, the only one endangering me or my calm is you.”

He grinned and turned to the innkeeper. “I hope you have a good cook. My wife’s bad temper generally improves after a decent plate of food.”

Joanna gasped. “Bad temper?”

Spencer grinned his devilish smile, clearly entertained.

They entered the main salon of the inn, the glow of many candles, including those in the hanging candelabras, made Joanna squint a little, adjusting to the light from the darkness. Many pairs of eyes shot to her and to Spencer, mostly travelers like them. But there were also drunken men and lower-rank navy officers who guffawed loudly and clunked their mugs against the table. The wood-paneled walls displayed the heads of stags, boars, and other game. The atmosphere was lively, and the most mouthwatering aromas of grilled meat, boiled vegetables, and fresh ale flowed all around the room.

“Certainly, Mr. Hadecliff,” the innkeeper assured them. “I brew my own ale and my roast beef and potatoes are famous on the road to London from Essex. Would you like that, Mrs. Hadecliff?”

“Only the best for my wife,” said Spencer. “Just say the word, love. Does roast beef and potatoes suit you?”

“They suit fine,” Joanna said tightly. “Thank you,” she said softly to the innkeeper, who wasn’t at all at fault in any of this.

When they were on their way to the table, one of the drunken officers laughed so hard, he threw his head back and it hit Joanna’s hip. She staggered to her side, and Spencer caught her by the elbow.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said, a razor-sharp edge in his tone. “You just pushed my wife.”

A flutter of butterflies started to flap around her stomach at the sight of Spencer’s dark and dangerous gaze. He wasn’t really her husband. She’d never be his wife… She needed to remind herself that. Because it felt too delicious to give in to this role-play, this fantasy, and imagine that this was real.

It wasn’t.

The officer’s face fell as he looked over her and Spencer.

“I apologize, um,” he said, slurring his consonants.

“Mrs. Hadecliff,” said Spencer sternly.

“Mrs. Hadecliff,” said the officer, his eyes almost closing. “A thousand apologies.”

Joanna nodded. No one had ever protected her like that, not even from such a small thing as someone drunk pushing her. “It’s quite all right,” she said. “Clearly, there was no ill intent, Mr. Hadecliff. Let us have our dinner.”

“Very well,” Spencer grumbled and led her far away from the table of drunken officers.

They took their seats next to the fireplace with a grate that was unlit. The candle on the round table created devious reflections of dancing fire in Spencer’s eyes. His foot touched hers under the table, his knee taking its firm place between hers. She shifted, thinking it may be a mistake, but he shifted along with her, keeping the contact, his gaze never leaving hers.

“All jests aside, are you really happy with roast beef and potatoes?” asked Spencer. “I am happy to order anything you like. Chicken? Fish? Or would you perhaps like port wine instead of the ale?”

Joanna’s annoyance melted. He was just teasing her earlier. This was the real him. And the wonderful feeling of him being her husband who knew her, who would protect her and defend her interests even in such matters as food was dangerously comforting.

Only a fantasy, she reminded herself. They were still rivals. Competitors.

Not a husband and wife. Not even lovers who cared for each other.

No matter how much it felt like he did…no matter how much her own heart melted and dissolved at something as simple as touching him.

“Roast beef and potatoes and ale are wonderful,” she said softly, her thighs burning from the place where his knee touched hers.

The innkeeper was rushing towards them with a tray bearing plates of roast beef generously topped with gravy, alongside boiled potatoes, carrots, and peas. He set the plates along with two tin tankard mugs of the inn’s own brewed ale before Spencer and her.

“Enjoy, Mr. and Mrs. Hadecliff,” said the innkeeper. “Your room is ready, so whenever you finish your dinner, simply ask me or one of my servant girls. It is one of our best rooms. Perfect for a newly married couple who have just had their nuptials. May I be as bold as to congratulate? I wouldn’t have presumed, but there’s an air about you two…”

Joanna cleared her throat, her cheeks blazing, while Spencer nodded and grinned. “Quite perceptive. We are. Thank you for your kind congratulations.”

The innkeeper retreated, clearly pleased with himself, and Joanna drank her ale, hoping it was cool enough to reduce her heat.

Other round and square tables were occupied by people of the middle class—young and old men and women along with a few children ate and drank. Bursts of laughter sounded from time to time, and people threw curious glances at her and Spencer.

She didn’t expect that. She understood people watching Spencer…but her? Was it his mama’s clothes and the intricate hairdo that Mrs. Girdwood had created, or had something changed in her? She straightened her back and looked at Spencer, who was chewing and cutting his roast beef but looking at her.

“Are you not hungry, Mrs. Hadecliff?” he asked. “This is quite good.”

The thought of food didn’t sit well when she was preoccupied with what else the night might bring, even though her stomach growled at the sight of the steaming plate.

“I’m sure it is,” she said and cut a piece of her roast beef. It was a little dry, and her knife wasn’t quite cutting through.

Spencer watched her for a few moments, then cut a large, juicy piece of his own roast beef and put it on her plate. “Here,” he said. “This one is much better.”

With her mouth open, she watched him pinch her hard slice of roast beef between his fork and knife and put it on his plate. She looked around, wondering if anyone saw that. “Spencer, I didn’t expect a duke to behave like this.” She giggled.

He cut her dry beef rather quickly, slathered it in his sauce, and put it into his mouth, chewing with satisfaction. “I’m not a duke, not anymore. And wouldn’t this be something a loving husband would do for his beautiful wife?”

She cut the juicy piece of beef he’d given her, with just the perfect amount of fat and the tenderest parts. It gave in much easier, and as she dipped the meat into the sauce, and then put it into her mouth, he kept watching her lips with great interest. The taste was excellent, indeed, soft and salty meat, and pungent, sweet-sour sauce.

“Which you never would be,” she said after she swallowed. “A husband.”

“That is right,” he said and took a long sip of his ale. “Except I will be, just for tonight. And just in this inn.”

“Hmmm,” she said as she took a sip of her own ale, which was quite excellent. “Well then, given that I’ll never marry in real life, it seems I should just enjoy my husband for one night.”

He frowned. “Why will you never marry?”

She shrugged and cut another piece of beef, almost closing her eyes in bliss as she chewed. “I assumed I never would. No one showed any interest, not while Charlotte was available. Besides, my reputation is in constant danger with you. Someone may recognize me. Alone, in your company, in the inn… I’ll be ruined.”

He swallowed his food and studied her. “You won’t be. As I said, I will protect your reputation fiercely. And your virginity…women know many ways to fool a husband into thinking he married a virgin. So… Why did you assume you never would marry?”

She shrugged. “I’m not certain what it was exactly that made me think that. I suppose I always knew my place was in the background. Helping my sister and my brother.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d come up with by yourself… You’re too much of an independent thinker for that. You’re fearless and highly intelligent. You know what you want, and when it comes to protecting those you love, you do not hesitate. So being in the background is not your natural instinct. That must be something you learned. Like someone said that to you…”

Realization struck her at his words. She stopped tasting the food, her jaw stilled, her fork and knife forgotten in her hands. As the world around her came to a standstill, her mind drifted.

From her first memories, Joanna had always been happy making others happy. Where her brother and sister had cried and complained if someone took their toys, Joanna had cheerfully given them the toy she played with because seeing Charlotte’s and Gideon’s pleased faces made her feel so much better than upsetting them by keeping something. Being the youngest, she never had her own things and got only hand-me-downs from her sister. Often, the first ruddy apple of a new harvest, or the first strawberry of the year went to Charlotte. She also simply observed that people were naturally more drawn to her sister: the governess, the servants, her parents, other children, and visitors.

It was, however, the night she overheard her mama and papa talking that made her realize her true place…

“I think you’re right,” Joanna said, as her mind filled with the memory of an evening as she walked through the hallway in the darkness. “One night, I overheard Mama and Papa discussing our futures. Mama said, ‘I wonder why God sent us Joanna… We were so content with a boy and a beautiful girl. I never wanted another child.’ And Papa said, ‘You made it very clear to me, indeed.’ Mama rolled her eyes and said, ‘But you were drunk, and so Joanna happened.’ Mama sighed. ‘She’s so different from the others. She’s not as sociable as Charlotte nor as ambitious as Gideon. She’s always been content with her books and her little world.’

“Papa said, ‘She has a heart of gold, always putting others before herself. Remember when she gave up her new dress so Charlotte could wear it to the ball? Or when she stayed up all night to help Gideon to write that essay Monsieur Philippe had been so furious about?’

“‘Yes,’ Mama said, a hint of sadness in her voice. ‘She’s our rock. Always there to support, to comfort. But I fear she’ll never seek public notice for herself. She’s content to let others shine while she remains in the shadows.’

“Father murmured in agreement, ‘Perhaps it’s just her nature. Some are meant to be stars, while others…others are the quiet strength behind them.’

“‘And I can’t imagine anyone wanting to marry her,’ Mama said.”

She finished talking, a little dumbstruck at what had just come out of her mouth.

“I didn’t think about this memory at all…for years…” she said and met Spencer’s dark eyes, which were glistening with empathy and fury at the same time. “I think that was when I realized my place was in the background. That because my parents thought so, I deserved average things…average clothes…an average life. The best things were for Charlotte and for Gideon. And I made peace with that then. So much later, when we were adolescents, there was a boy I liked…you know, the first sort of feelings towards the opposite sex. His family visited us for the summer while Charlotte was away for a while visiting the Hodgeses. His name was Benjamin. With Charlotte gone, I felt his full attention… We read together, rode, played games…we grew to be exceedingly close friends. And for the first time in my life, I believed myself to be the foremost object of someone’s affection. But when Charlotte came back home, his attention completely switched as though I had never existed. Angry and feeling let down, I confronted Charlotte, but Mama said I was being selfish and that the boy wouldn’t have liked me anyway. That it’s not like I had a chance with him. And I knew then I was just too unexceptional to be anyone’s choice.”

Spencer carefully took the fork and knife, which she miraculously still clutched, from her hands. She felt tears prickling her eyes, the memories, the realizations like iron claws holding her in their prison. That’s why Spencer would never choose her, she realized now, because he had his own Charlotte—his sister-in-law Penelope. He’d realize now, just like Benjamin, that Joanna really wasn’t worth his time.

His warm hand was so lovely and comforting on hers. “Your mama and papa loved you, no doubt. But they boxed you and your siblings into roles based on their observations. Mine did the same. I was always the strong one. Preston was the ‘spare,’ so he wasn’t treated with as much attention. Richard even less so. But my sister, Calliope, was the princess—both for my parents and all of us boys, too. She was raised knowing she was loved and strong and free to do what she wanted. Your mama and papa mistakenly saw your incredible selflessness and kindness not for the strength that it really is, but as a weakness. They didn’t know that success and happiness can look differently. They failed to see that your nature can and should lead you to shine in your own right.”

Joanna felt like her lungs were full of air and tight, about to burst through her chest.

“Your sister and brother don’t know how lucky they are to have you,” he said. “Your parents didn’t know their biggest treasure was born as their third child. I can only feel sorry for them for not noticing that. You, my dear, are certainly not in the background to me. You stand so far in the foreground, I fail to see anyone else but you.”

His acceptance, his understanding were almost as heartbreaking as his words of praise. Joanna felt a warmth spread through her, a feeling she hadn’t known she craved until this very moment. His gaze held hers, unwavering and sincere, and she felt seen, truly seen.

“Let us work together, Joanna,” he said, throwing another shock at her.

She blinked. “Pardon?”

“We have the same goal but for different reasons and with different consequences. But clearly when we work together, we’re stronger. What if we can get what we both need? We get the evidence. You take it to Ashton and first get him to give you back the deed and ensure your sister is safe from the prince. Afterward, I punish him by starting a criminal case against him. I want him punished, Joanna. He deserves it.”

Joy flowed through her. She was not sure how or why, but she liked his plan. “What made you change your mind?” she asked.

“My family.” He smiled. “If anyone made a similar proposition to my sister as the prince regent did to yours, I’d break their neck. I can’t break the prince regent’s neck—that would be treason. But I know what it’s like to try and protect your family with all your heart. That is what I’d do, too. And I don’t want to make it more difficult for you than it already is. I think we can do both. Achieve your goal and mine. Do you have an objection?”

“If Ashton is convicted, Gideon will never be duke like he’s supposed to.”

“Perhaps not. Or perhaps we can get the Crown to allow him to keep the duchy, given your help in finding evidence of his crimes. And even if he will never be duke, he’ll have his deed and his fortune from his papa. That’s not a small feat, is it? That would allow you to stop writing for money and for him to stop working as a solicitor. It would allow you all to improve your lives and not struggle anymore.”

“That is true. Though I don’t want to stop writing for money. I’d always like to—actually, I’d like to start a newspaper where women could be published under their own names. And publish women exclusively.” She had been thinking about this a great deal, and it was the best way she could devise to help women claim some power in their world, to gain a voice no one could silence.

He was a little speechless at that, watching her with wonder in his eyes. “You’re quite extraordinary. I’ve never met a woman like you, Joanna.”

She beamed, his compliment like sun on her skin.

“Come on, Joanna,” he said. “Let’s become allies.”

Allies…with this beautiful man. She wanted to be on the same side as him, working together. She could tell him about the note, about the date, the word “Valiant” and the mysterious numbers, geographical names of Portsmouth and Chesapeake Bay. She wanted to trust him.

But could she?

Logically, there were several reasons to trust him. He hadn’t taken her virginity. He’d brought her with him to Tilbury when he didn’t have to. He was a scoundrel, but he’d never broken his word to her…yet.

And the idea of spending more time with him, working together on accomplishing that common goal felt like savoring a warm honey cake.

“Let’s help each other,” he said, his dark eyes shining. “We will be stronger together.”

If this was true, if he would let her talk to her uncle first and then bring Ashton to justice, they would both get what they wanted. And she had only eight days at her disposal to find something before the date set by the prince.

However, if he used her to get what he wanted, took her for a ride, and then abandoned her at the end, she’d not only risk her family’s future…she feared her heart would never recover from a betrayal like that.

“What do you say, Mrs. Hadecliff?” he murmured. “Shall we bring Ashton down together?”

The sound of it was so delicious and seductive… Perhaps it was the strange sensation of them being a couple, two parts of one whole. Or perhaps it was her optimism, her willingness to see the best in people and to hope for a good outcome that showed her the possibility of a future where he wouldn’t be a scoundrel. Where he would keep his word and help her. They wouldn’t compete anymore. They wouldn’t be rivals. They would be on the same side.

It would be the two of them, Mr. and Mrs. Hadecliff, the king and the queen of the underworld, against Ashton.

What could possibly go wrong?

She had to believe in his better nature, cling to the hope that this man would put her first and value her in a way no one had before. Pushing aside the nagging doubts churning in the pit of her stomach, she nodded, unwittingly sealing her fate.

“All right, Mr. Hadecliff. Let us become allies. Let’s take him down together.”