The Duke's Redemption

Princess whistled low and quiet from the shadows. “The man carrying the glasses is him, isn’t it? I can’t tell rightly in the moonlight, but he seems awful dark to be an Englishman.”

Without taking her eyes from Drake, Elise nodded. “From what I understand, he spends most of his time on a ship.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Drake Amberly.”

“He reminds me of a loaded pistol that’s primed and cocked. Maybe even more dangerous.”

“My thought precisely, Prin.”

Elise focused on her sister, hoping Amberly thought a view of the river interested her. Her sister’s large eyes, straight nose and high cheekbones were similar to her own and their shared father’s, but the night hid the mocha-brown skin and simple muslin gown that proclaimed her position as a house slave.

Prin’s mother, Abigail, had been their father’s property for a handful of years before Samuel decided he needed to marry and produce the legitimate son he longed for. Another girl, Elise had been a bitter disappointment for him.

Prin had been raised among the other slaves, but she’d done her best to protect Elise from their father’s drunken rages. An airtight bond of love had been forged between the two girls. Now their situations were reversed. Elise protected Prin. As long as she did what Zechariah dictated, she’d be given ownership of Prin once the war ended. From there, Elise planned to use the funds she collected from spying to create a new life for them both somewhere free from the hated chains of slavery.

“You can’t be too careful round a man like that,” Prin warned. “He walks like he owns the whole earth.”

“True,” Elise whispered. “He’s arrogant, but not meanly so, I think. I suppose it comes naturally to him. Men like him seem to acquire that particular trait at birth.”

Elise glanced back over her shoulder. Amberly had traversed half the lawn, but remained too far away to hear their conversation. She watched him, disliking the way her heart fluttered in anticipation of his arrival. He carried himself like a nobleman, as though he were well aware of and comfortable with his position in life. With purpose and a complete disregard for others’ opinions of him.

“Jus’ be careful,” Prin warned.

“You know I will be.” Her sister never ceased to play the part of mother hen. “You should go before he gets here. Tell Zechariah you delivered his message and I’ve learned no news as yet. I’ll meet with him after I’ve had a chance to speak with Amberly.”

“That old dragon wants a miracle,” Prin reminded her, speaking of Zechariah. “Your past work has spoiled him. You’re usually so quick to give him the information he wants, he thinks you can read minds and don’t need to talk or listen none.”

“Well, then, he’s deceived. I—”

“My, that man looks dangerous,” her sister interrupted.

Elise frowned and continued to focus on the river. “Prin, please go back to the house and deliver my message. Then wait in our room, all right? I want you safe. You know how the soldiers like to make free with their hands.”

“Maybe I’ll just hide over there in the bushes. When you get ready to head back to the house, I’ll go up with you.”

“No. What if Amberly sees you? There’s enough lantern light to expose you, and how would I explain your presence in the shrubs?”

“I’m your chaperone?”

Elise shook her head at her sister’s persistence. “I don’t need one with all the other guests strolling about.”

“Fine,” Prin grouched. “I’m going. Just remember the trick I taught you. A knee to—”

“‘If he tries to touch what he shouldn’t.’ Yes, I know. Now go,” she whispered.

A snapping twig announced Amberly’s arrival. Elise spun to face him just as he joined her. He offered her one of the crystal glasses he held. “Miss Cooper, the drink you requested.”

Smiling brightly, she accepted the glass. Her fingertips brushed his, and a pleasant sensation danced up her arm. Surprised by the contact, she forgot the clever quip she’d devised to begin the conversation and gain the upper hand.

She took a sip of fruity punch while gathering her wits. Amberly’s intense gaze flustered her, making it difficult to concentrate when questioning him should have been foremost in her mind. Forcing her thoughts to regroup, she flashed him a flirtatious grin, and slipped back into her least favorite role. “Why, thank you, Mr. Amberly. I do believe you’ve saved me from disgracing myself in a faint. I’m as parched as a hot summer day.”

“My pleasure, Miss Cooper. I’m pleased to be of service.” He peered into the darkness behind her. “You seem to be alone, but I thought I saw you speaking with someone. I trust I didn’t interrupt?”

“No. My maid brought a message from Mr. Sayer. I sent her back to the house.”

Drake’s brow furrowed. “I spoke with him moments ago. He warned me off you.”

Perplexed that Zechariah would do such a thing, she lowered her lashes to hide her confusion. “He did?”

Drake stepped closer, dried leaves crunching beneath his boots. His dark presence engulfed her, made her feel tiny. Nervous excitement shimmied in her belly. She had to crane her neck to look into his eyes.

“It’s obvious he’s smitten with you, but I hope you don’t feel the same way about him.”

Realization dawned. Christian must have been the one to warn him off. The tension tightening her muscles suddenly released. Laughter bubbled to her lips. “Christian isn’t smitten—”

“He is. I’ve no doubt.” He paused. “But, I fear I’m more so.”

Elise’s heart beat out of control. She flipped open her fan and fluttered it rapidly, hoping to cool the blush that warmed her cheeks. “You must be jesting. We’ve just met. Perhaps you were out to sea too long, and the sun has addled your brain?”

He grinned. “No, I simply know beauty when I see it.”

His comment sent a gush of relief through her. Her nervousness receded, though her disappointment increased. He was just another shallow man interested in a woman’s outward appearance. She’d dealt with such nonsense before.

She dropped her fan, letting it dangle from the silk cord about her wrist, and batted her lashes. “Thank you, Mr. Amberly. I feared with all the other lovely ladies here tonight, I’d be the least noticed among them.”

“You needn’t have worried, sweet. You outshine all the other ladies of my acquaintance—here and in England.”

Determined not to be taken in by his flattery, she took another sip of punch. “You’re a prince to say so, sir.”

“I’m not a prince, Miss Cooper.” His white teeth flashed in a grin. “Perhaps something slightly less grand. Perhaps a duke?”

She knew he jested, but something in his words suggested a double meaning, one she had yet to grasp. Another couple walked close by, admiring the river. She nodded to them as they passed but didn’t speak until they were out of earshot. “Hardly, sir. It’s just an expression. You needn’t worry I’d mistake you for a genuine member of royalty. You’ve not the bearing for it.”

His smile faltered imperceptibly. One dark brow rose in question. “Is that so? How many royals have you known?”

“Few to none,” she admitted, glancing out over the river where moon and lantern light shimmered on the calm surface. “Although, I did have the pleasure of meeting Lord Cornwallis and his entourage at a ball I attended last summer.”

Amberly gave no reaction when she expected him to be impressed by the announcement. Whenever she mentioned the general’s name, most English men and women expressed a keen interest in the details of the man leading Britain’s southern campaign.

She changed the subject, searching for a topic that would encourage him to speak of himself. “Still, I suppose no ball competes with plying the open sea. I envy you, Mr. Amberly. Shipping must be a fascinating occupation.”

His thick eyelashes dipped to shield his eyes. If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she wouldn’t have noticed. “To be sure, Miss Cooper. ’Tis quite fascinating if one enjoys endless days of bobbing along like a cork, going mad from boredom and smelling of fish. One can only scan the horizon so often. Two weeks into an Atlantic crossing, a ship, no matter how large, becomes excessively small indeed.”

“You surprise me, sir. The few sailors I’ve met love their lot in life more than they love their own mothers. You speak as though you can’t bear it.”

“On the contrary. I enjoy the sea and all its wonders, but I’m a practical and truthful man. Sailors who have naught but good to say about it are lying or victims of brain rot.”

She laughed. “I doubt I’d make a good sailor. I hate the feeling of being penned in. Yet, I must admit the sense of freedom one must feel holds great appeal for me.”

Drake moved closer and leaned against the tree. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and gave her a lazy smile.

This close to him she could smell his spicy cologne. Prin was right, he was dark for an Englishman, almost as dark as the Indians who lived near her father’s Virginia farm, and so mysterious she found it impossible to drag her eyes away from him.

Somewhere behind Elise a woman laughed, drawing her back to the task at hand. She had to focus. Prin’s future freedom, as well as her own, depended upon her being in control and sober of mind. She took her thoughts in hand and continued her quest with renewed purpose. “I’m curious about you, Mr. Amberly. I’d wager you have more than a few secrets.”

He shrugged in casual affirmation. “A few perhaps. No more than most men, a lot less than most women.”

She glanced away. Her entire existence was a blend of shadow and light. She possessed so many secrets even she had trouble remembering them all.

He reached out and ran his fingertip down her cheek. Startled by the caress, she caught her breath. She wasn’t used to being touched with such gentleness, and the feather-soft brush of his finger was a pleasurable sensation she loathed to end.

Straining her willpower to the seams, she pulled away. Her hand trembled as she tugged the edges of her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I…I must go.”

“Don’t,” he said.

“I must.”

“Why?”

Matters had gotten out of hand. She’d lost her concentration. She needed to regroup her thoughts and felt sure she’d swim in confusion as long as she stayed in his company. “We have other guests. Mr. Amberly and I must see to them.”

She turned in the direction of the well-lit brick mansion. “Fare thee well. Goodnight.”

He reached for her wrist, but she pretended not to notice as she moved beyond his grasp. He followed her. She heard his pursuit and stepped up her pace.

“I shall see you again soon, Miss Cooper.”

His tone was sincere enough, but to her flustered senses the statement sounded like a threat. “Not if I see you first, sir.”

His rich laughter stretched across the velvety night. “My heart is broken, dear girl, but thank you for the warning. I’ll be sure to sneak up on you the next time we meet.”

“Well,” Zechariah demanded a few hours later in the study. “What news have you, girl? You and Amberly seemed cozy enough.”

Elise shifted on her feet. She stood before the study’s waning fire, summoned to the old man like a disobedient servant. “Cozy isn’t the word I’d use.”

Her spymaster kept his back to her as he poured a drink and replaced the bottle’s crystal stop. Christian sat in the corner, hidden in shadow. The ball had ended several hours prior, and their guests had gone or sought out a bed for the night.

The old man faced her, took off his flowing powdered wig and tossed it to a nearby chair, where it landed in a cloud of chalk. Candlelight reflected on his bald head. He scratched his scaly crown and sighed before eyeing her with what she thought was suspicion. “I care not about the word, girl. I only wish to know if you discovered something useful.”

“No—”

“Then what am I to do with you? If you’ve forever lost your ability to aid our cause, I’ll ship you back to Williamsburg in the blink of an eye.”

Her jaw tightened. He’d used the same threat on many occasions. Before Hawk’s death she would have paid it no mind, but since that fateful night her guilt made her nearly useless as a spy. His irate expression signaled a real cause for concern. If he sent her back to Williamsburg, she’d be under Roger’s thumb once more. All hope of freeing Prin would be lost. “You didn’t allow me to fin—”

“We’re all risking our lives in this business. Some of us more than that,” Zechariah continued with an angry slash of his hand. “We have to stay sharp and spare no opportunity to locate the information we must acquire.”

Elise listened to the lecture, biding her time with a prayer for patience. Zechariah would run out of steam soon. Then she’d have her say.

Sayer’s tirade came to an abrupt stop. His countenance softened imperceptibly. “You’re not the first of our number to have a part in killing a man, you know. Hawk was our enemy. You did right to lay him low. I’ll have no more of this pouting. You must move on.”

He forestalled her when she began to protest. “Elise, I’d hate to lose you. In the past, you’ve proven your worth, but the war situation is grim. I cannot coddle you a moment longer.”

“You’ve no need to coddle me,” she said between clenched teeth. “I learned no information to support Amberly’s claims, but I observed something you may wish to consider.”

Sayer’s eyes gleamed. “Ah, I knew you’d not disappoint.”

Elise bit her tongue and refrained from reminding him of the diatribe he’d cast her way a moment ago. “I believe he’s more than he says he is. A minor aristocrat, perhaps.”

Christian stood and entered the candlelight. “What makes you think so?”

“His manner and his story conflict. He told Zechariah he operates in trade, that he’s come to America to reestablish shipping lines between Carolina planters and England. But Amberly proclaims his finer breeding with each word he speaks.”

“I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary,” Zechariah said.

“I’d wager he’s changed his accent as best he can, but if you listen closely, you can hear his cultured tones.”

“It’s possible he’s putting on airs,” Christian offered.

Elise nodded in agreement. “Yes, but I’ve spoken with sea captains and sailors before. I know many men of trade. None have his confidence or air of command. It’s as though he owns the world and accepts it as his due. I’ve only seen that sort of bearing in the lords and ladies I met in Williamsburg, or more recently, in the entourage of General Cornwallis.”

The spymaster rubbed his whiskered chin. “The maid who unpacked for him saw nothing out of the ordinary. His clothing and trinkets are of good quality, but nothing is especially grand—”

“Of course it isn’t,” Elise said with a touch of impatience. “If a man wishes to hide his identity, what does he do? He pretends to be the opposite of who he really is.”

Zechariah gave her a sharp look. “Don’t sass me, girl. I know what a man does to hide his identity. I’ve been doing it for a good many years.”

Chastised, she nodded, but didn’t apologize.

“Still,” he said, “you’ve said nothing to convince me he’s a spy.”

“No, but if I’m right, there’s trouble afoot. Everything he’s told us regarding himself would be a lie. He’d have to be here for some other purpose….”

The room fell into silence as each of its occupants considered the situation.

“The man is hiding something,” Zechariah conceded. “I can smell it. If he’s a spy, then you must find him out.”

Elise nodded. Christian frowned.

“Spend every possible moment with him until the truth is discovered.” The spymaster’s gaze pinned to her face. “He’s taken with you, girl. And you need to reestablish your worth. This is the perfect opportunity to do so.”

Elise thought of her strange reaction to Amberly. The oddly delicious, frightening way he’d made her feel. “Zechariah, I…I’m not the best choice for this errand.”

“Nonsense, there’s no one better. Prove yourself once more or I’ll be forced to replace you with someone willing to face the noose if necessary. I’m sure your mother and your weasel of a stepfather will accept you back in Williamsburg, but I might have to sell your sister.”

Like a foul stench, his words hung in the air.

“You’ve no need for concern. I’ll do your bidding, as you well know.”

“Excellent. Within a week, I want more information on Amberly than even his parents possess of him. Do we understand one another?”

Christian interrupted from beside her. “I’ll help, Elise. The two of us might enjoy more success if we work together. However, there is one small problem.”

“What?” Zechariah asked irritably.

“I warned him off before he followed Elise into the garden.”

“Aye, he told me,” she said.

“And why, pray tell, did you do that?” Zechariah slapped the top of the tidy desk. To Elise, “Did Amberly listen? Did the man keep his distance?”

Elise hesitated, recalling Drake’s vibrant presence, the way he’d affected her. Yet, to tell Zechariah of her reaction would make her weak in his eyes. He might think she’d grown unable to separate her feelings from her work. “He must have, for none of his actions were untoward.”

Zechariah frowned in Christian’s direction, but spoke to her. “Pity. Now you’ll have to convince him his attentions are welcome.”

She doubted that would pose a serious challenge. “I understand.”

Zechariah passed her a small packet tied with string. “Good. Now that’s settled, here are the letters I want you to deliver to Tabby tomorrow. She’ll need to pass them near a flame’s heat for the message to appear.”

Elise accepted the envelopes. The recent invention of invisible ink amazed her. “If I’m to take these to Tabby, how am I to spend time with Amberly?”

“He has business in Charles Towne. You’ll have time on the ferry to charm him.”

Never more unsure of herself, she nodded and made for the door.

Chapter Four

Sleep refused to visit Elise. Despite the cool breeze ruffling the white lace curtains of her bedchamber, she was hot and sticky with perspiration. Moonlight illuminated the far side of the room, but barely reached the mosquito-netted bed where she tossed and turned.

More and more of late, her prayers seemed to go unanswered. Without the Lord’s guidance she felt adrift and abandoned. With her future and the future of her sister in ever-increasing peril, she clung to the scripture that promised the Lord would never leave her.

But, she had to admit, her faith had begun to bow under the weight of His silence in the midst of her endless concerns.

Prin released a long-suffering breath. “Who you wrestlin’ over there?”

“I can’t sleep,” Elise mumbled. The ropes holding the feather mattress creaked as she flipped to her back. “I believe I’d find more comfort on a stone slab.”

“It’s a mite better than the mats and cold musty ground of the slave cabins.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I have no right to complain.”

“What’s ailing you, then? The truth, if you please.”

“Nothing.” She couldn’t talk about Zechariah’s threats with her sister. Prin would protest by way of silent mutiny and hot cups of tea in the spymaster’s lap at breakfast. In all likelihood, Zechariah would use the excuse to relegate Prin to the slave cabins instead of turning a blind eye to her presence in his home as he did now.

“So you’ve taken to lying? I thought my mother taught you better.”

Prin was like a hound with a strong scent in her nose. If she ran true to form, Prin wouldn’t leave her sister alone until she was fed a satisfactory tale.

“Nothing in particular, I should have said.” Elise sighed. “In truth I have much on my mind, none of which I wish to trouble you with.”

“I’ll wager you do have much on your mind. My name may be Princess but you’re the queen of frettin’.” Her sister turned smug. “Good thing I’m here. I knew you’d come to me for the truth.”

“You know I’m always glad you’re here with me, but in this case, I wouldn’t know what truth you speak of.”

Prin rolled her eyes. “Of course you do, Lisie, you’re not the brainless girl you play so well. You’re not blind either. Your problem’s a simple one—man trouble. Did you find out whether Amberly’s married or not?”

Truth to tell, she’d forgotten to inquire about such basic information. In retrospect, she felt quite inept. If her reaction to the man hadn’t distracted her so, she would have had him volunteering those simple facts without him realizing. “No, but then you’re the one determined to see me wed.”

“I want to see you settled and protected.”

“But I have no wish to marry.”

“You’re nineteen,” Prin pointed out. “Fast becomin’ an old maid.”

Elise groaned. “And any man within five colonies is an acceptable candidate?”

“I just want you safe and happy.”

Elise crossed her arms behind her head and closed her eyes. Her sister’s concern tugged at her heart. Still. “I can’t see how being shackled to a man can provide any woman with happiness.”

“Why are you being such a mulehead?” Prin huffed. “Marriage and misfortune don’t have to mean the same thing.”

Elise turned her head and strained to see her sister’s face. The fat candle she’d lit while preparing for bed no longer burned. In the faint moonlight, she could make out little except the outline of Prin’s cheek and the brightness of her eyes. “Just because you’ve found happiness with Kane doesn’t mean we’re all destined for an equally joyful end.”

“But findin’ a husband would solve all your problems.”

Aghast, Elise sat up in the bed and twisted toward her sister. “I believe it’s finally happened.”

“What?”

“You’ve gone daft.”

“Have not.”

Elise scrunched the bedsheets in her fists. It was illegal for slaves to wed, but ever since she’d found a minister willing to officiate a secret marriage between Prin and Kane, her sister had become convinced Elise needed to marry as well. “In all seriousness, how can you be foolish enough to believe marriage would solve my difficulties? It’s more likely a husband would multiply them. Recall, if you will, how our father treated both our mothers.”

“Aye, Pa was a bad seed, but not all men are such fiends.”

“Then let’s consider Roger.”

“Why? The man’s a goat’s bottom, nothing more. Just ’cause your ma believed his sweet talk and found misery in matrimony, don’t mean all church aisles lead in the same direction.”

Elise wasn’t so certain. Without care for her reputation, her own mother had abandoned her in favor of a handsome man’s honey-coated promises. Once she and her new lover were free to wed, Roger showed his true colors, and in the end, her mother found herself tied to a second wicked husband.

Her voice husky with remembered pain, she whispered, “Zechariah is another fine example of male selfishness gone awry.”

Prin clucked her tongue and shook her head on the pillow. “You’re just bein’ a goose. Zechariah has principals even if he’s far from perfect. And before you mention some other poor fool, what about Kane? Or how ’bout Christian? They’re as good and fine men as there ever was born.”

“True enough.”

“Then why not your friend? You both have this spy business in common. He won’t keep you from carryin’ out your stubborn convictions. You could chase around the countryside together, bring down all the redcoats…. ’Sides, he fancies you.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Christian is a gentleman and a dear, but he fancies many women. Besides, how could I think to marry a man who stirs nothing in me but feelings of the brotherly sort?”

Prin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re just too hard to please.”

“Can we cease this?” Elise lay down, her back to her sister. “I’m tired and must get some rest. I’m off to Charles Towne in the morning, and the ferry leaves at half past seven. Amberly will be on it, so I must sparkle.”