Chapter 26

26

“Blackmore,will you help me or not?” asked Spencer the next day.

He rarely felt true fear of any man, but looking into the cold, dead eyes of Thorne Blackmore made his stomach tighten with dread.

Blackmore leaned back in his chair behind his grand desk, daylight falling on his shoulders and back from the huge windows behind him, making him appear even darker against the light. Blackmore was all hard angles, a tall man with broad shoulders and a strange mix of aristocratic posture and criminal malice.

“So you want me to have my men go to the house of one of the most powerful and dangerous people in England and demand that his wife give them some documents?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes. For any amount of money. Just name it. It will be yours.”

“Last time someone asked me for a favor concerning you, they ended up almost dead…and then married to my sister.”

Spencer’s jaw worked. “I know Richard married Jane, trust me. That makes you my brother-in-law. Besides…I’m not asking for a favor. I’m asking for a service for which I’m happy to pay.”

Blackmore narrowed his dark eyes, a hint of amused surprise showing there. “And you’re not bothered that I could have told Richard everything I knew…could have told your family the very same night you’d been dragged onto the ship that you were not dead…”

The truth of that had fury fire up in Spencer’s gut. He could have blamed Blackmore for the exact thing he was blaming Ashton. Had Blackmore been a man of honor, Spencer’s family may have acted early enough and retrieved him. Perhaps even before Concord left the Thames.

“Then Penelope wouldn’t have married Preston. And you wouldn’t be related to the criminal lord of London. And your only precious sister wouldn’t have ended up married to the poorest duke in London. All that doesn’t bother you?”

Spencer ground his teeth. All that was true. Penelope might have been his wife in another life. And both of them would have been miserable forever. She’d have always been drawn to his brother, who’d never dishonor her or Spencer by acting on his desire. Spencer would have eventually fallen out of love with her, seeing her indifference.

He’d have remained duke… His leg would have been whole. He wouldn’t have had nightmares, nor the dark emptiness deep in his soul. He’d have kept boxing. Drinking. Shooting. Admiring art.

And would have never met Miss Joanna Digby. His little Persephone, who tasted like pomegranates and smelled like paradise. The queen of his darkness. The light of his life.

No, he didn’t blame Blackmore for what he’d gone through. The man was just running his “business” and had nothing to gain from alerting the Seatons to Spencer’s fate.

He did, however, blame the true perpetrator.

Ashton.

“I have bigger concerns than that, Blackmore. Besides, my brothers and sister are all happy. In love. And as much as I didn’t see it when I first returned…I admit, I’m happy for them.”

Blackmore stood up and walked to the sideboard and poured a glass of amber liquid. “Whisky?” he asked Spencer, half turning to him. “It’s from Lagavulin Bay. Apparently, an ancient MacDonald clan recipe.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “I do enjoy whisky. Never heard of that one.”

Blackmore gave a curt nod and poured some into the second glass, then handed it to him and took a sip from his own glass. Spencer followed his example, and had to stop himself from closing his eyes at the pure bliss that played on his tongue. “A rare find,” he said, looking at his glass.

“Indeed,” said Blackmore. “What is in those documents, Lord Seaton?”

“Before I answer that, I must know what your stand is with the Duke of Ashton.”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “He accompanies the prince regent here. I know he lives much, much above his means. He must, in part, maintain that opulent lifestyle to accommodate his royal patron, who has a greed that can never be satisfied. He is doing something illegal, though I couldn’t tell you what. I never cared enough to investigate as it never touched me or my business.”

Spencer nodded. More and more, he started to like Blackmore—despite himself. Perhaps it was the man’s matter-of-factness, or perhaps a similar sort of darkness was looking at him from the depths of Blackmore’s eyes as had tortured Spencer since the moment he was thrown onto Concord.

“Ashton has been committing high treason against the Crown. He was the one who press-ganged me, and he’s responsible for the deaths of many men in the war as he sends military intelligence to the other side. And he sells the enemy guns he produces on American soil. The documents are the deeds of those properties. And I need them to have Ashton hanged. I want the entire country to know. The whole of London to come and see his body swinging in the noose.”

Blackmore nodded thoughtfully, then clinked his glass with Spencer’s. “Revenge is a noble motivation in my book,” he said. “Let me tell you what, Lord Seaton. I will help you. I will also not take any money from you. Consider this my apology for almost killing your brother and for sending my men after you that night.”

Spencer nodded, a little surprised. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I will, however, require a favor from you one day.” Blackmore smiled crookedly. “I do not know if that day you’ll decide you’d have rather paid me money.”

Spencer shrugged. “I would rather pay you now.”

“No,” Blackmore said with a smile that made the hair on Spencer’s forearms stand up. “As you said, we are brothers now. There will be no monetary compensation between us.”

And why did those words send a chill along Spencer’s spine?

Quick steps sounded from the hallway, and the door opened. Jane came in without looking up from a letter she held in her hands. “Thorne, I have this idea for a charity… I was wonder—” She lifted her head and stopped abruptly. “Oh, Spencer… Lord Seaton, that is…” She cleared her throat. “Pardon, I am not sure what to call you. You’re my brother now, but I have only seen you twice…”

It was as though a needle pierced Spencer’s heart at that. How she was right… She was Richard’s wife… Richard, his kind, softhearted brother who’d sworn a few years ago to never marry, even though everyone knew he was a hopeless romantic at heart. And this woman had cracked the exterior of a careless rake and completely engulfed his brother’s heart.

And he had never even properly talked to her.

“Spencer,” he said with a smile. “Call me Spencer.”

She beamed, and Spencer could see right away the joyful kindness in her intelligent eyes. “Please call me Jane, then.”

Blackmore cocked one eyebrow. “What about a charity, darling?” he asked. “Is it for your school? Do you want me to donate? Just say the word. You know anything you need is at your disposal.”

Spencer couldn’t believe the transformation as he observed Thorne’s cold eyes melting with love the moment he looked at his sister.

Calliope, his own dear sister, was struggling with her pregnancy, feeling unwell. And he still had never even visited her.

Jane nodded. “You know what, brother, may I get back to you about that? Spencer, I do not mean to be so intrusive, but everyone’s been missing you, especially Calliope. Tomorrow the family is gathering together for your grandmama’s birthday, and it’s at Calliope and Nathaniel’s house to spare your sister some travel time.”

Of course! Grandmama’s name day. How could he have forgotten? His heart filled with another sort of ache, and he realized how much he missed his family. He’d missed them for all those long months at war and at sea. And now, he was back.

And they were not across the ocean. They were within his reach. It was he who had pushed them away. He who wanted to be alone. He who had barked at them and chased them off.

Even though he’d had dinner with them after the art show and was trying to be less standoffish, he was still keeping himself at an emotional distance.

He swallowed a painful lump. “Thank you for the reminder, Jane,” he said. “You’re right. I cannot miss Grandmama’s name day.”

And Joanna… The only one now beyond his reach was Joanna.

He wished she would come with him, so he could introduce her to everyone.

He was torn between his loyalty to her and his need for vengeance. On the one hand, he wanted to protect her by having Blackmore intercept those documents before she could use them to confront her dangerous uncle. But on the other hand, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of having betrayed her. Was this truly for her own safety, or was it a selfish act? The war within him waged on as he struggled to decide.

“When would you like me to deliver what you requested?” asked Blackmore.

“Today if possible. Tomorrow at the latest,” said Spencer.

Tomorrow was the day the prince awaited Charlotte’s decision, the final day when Joanna could convince Ashton to let Charlotte be and release Gideon’s deeds.

“Very well, sir,” said Blackmore, standing up. “It will be done today.”