Lord Sinister (Secrets & Scandals Book 3) Read online

  “I won’t be long,” Julian said, wondering if his entire crew had gone daft. Usually, everyone obeyed him without even a hint of hesitation, no matter what his orders.

  Reluctantly, the doctor moved to the side.

  Entering the dim cabin, he approached the bunk, surprised to see such a small form outlined beneath the blanket. Good God, surely not a child! He heard her moan and watched her turn her head. Then she opened her eyes. And he stood there, blasted over the skull by a hundred-pound boulder of recognition.

  “Did you find some water, Alex?” she asked, her voice weak, breathless.

  Julian could only stare down at Amelia Jamison, his gaze roaming her small heart-shaped face, bluer than blue eyes and full lips. Lips, he noticed with a frown, cracked and peeling. He also took note of her sunken, wan cheeks and the dark smudges beneath her dazed eyes.

  Then he remembered how she tried duping him into marriage almost ten years ago. He could still feel that bloody noose around his neck.

  With that memory encasing his heart like a stone shell, Julian folded his arms over his chest. “Just what in God’s name are you doing on my ship, Amelia?”

  Her eyes sharpened and filled with alarm. “Julian?”

  A commotion sounded at the door and he turned in time to see two bodies flying into the cabin.

  “Come ‘ere, boy,” Jonas ordered, his lips twisted into a deep scowl and his thick dark brows lowered over furious eyes.

  The boy shook his head, backing away. “Not without seeing my mother first.” He spun around.

  For the second time in as many minutes, Julian was stunned speechless. He stared at the child, yet couldn’t believe his eyes. Black hair, high cheekbones, gray eyes. No, it wasn’t possible.

  It couldn’t be possible.

  Jonas raised his arms, his fingers stretched out like claws, and stomped toward the boy. “Now ye’ve gone an’ made me mad, ye little sneak.”

  “Please. Please don’t hurt my son,” Amelia said, her feeble voice capturing Julian’s attention. He turned in time to see her slide from the bed and take a wobbly step in the boy’s direction, a thin arm reaching out as her glazed eyes widened in terror. Then she started to collapse from lack of strength.

  He swore and lunged forward, catching her before she hit the hard floor.

  “Mama!”

  “Oh, no ye—”

  “It’s all right, Jonas,” Julian said before the big bear of a man could capture the boy by the collar. “I know this woman. You may leave.” He nodded toward the portal. “And send Dr. Halston back in here,” he added, settling Amelia’s light, limp body back down onto the bunk.

  Jonas’s brows shot up, but he had the good sense not to argue. “Aye, sir.”

  The boy stepped forward, a worried frown pulling at his lips as he glanced at his mother’s ashen face. “Is she…?”

  “No, just swooned.” He studied the child’s features, trying like hell to find something on that familiar face to tell him what he was thinking was wrong. How in the deuce could this be possible?

  As if recalling something, the boy looked up. “You know my mother, sir?”

  Those gray eyes were so much like his. Julian cleared his throat and nodded. “I knew her years ago.” For the first time, he noticed the boy’s shabby clothes. He turned and found Amelia’s dress just as old and threadbare. That made no sense to him. She came from a very wealthy family. “What is your name?”

  “Alexander Wesson, sir.”

  The tightness in his chest loosened, his breaths coming out easier. Amelia had married, which meant Alexander wasn’t his son. Surely she wouldn’t have given up so easily those years ago if she really had been with child. In the least, someone from her family would have gone to his father.

  Yet, a strange feeling came over him, something unsettling. And the longer he looked on the boy standing before him, the stronger the sensation grew.

  The doctor rushed into the room, disrupting Julian’s thoughts, and gave him a reproving glare. “You should leave, Master.” Then he noticed Alexander and jerked to a halt, but recovered his surprise quickly. “Both of you should leave,” he said.

  The boy stepped forward, his young face defiant. “I am sorry, sir, but I will not leave my mother.”

  Marcus looked down at the child, started to say something, then stopped, his eyes growing round as they cut to Julian and back.

  Uh, oh, not good.

  He did not want the man coming to any unnecessary conclusions. He shook his head to convey a warning not to ask any questions. Then he turned to the boy. “Dr. Halston is here to help your mother. Come, we’ll stand right outside the door.”

  Alexander hesitated, his brows pulling together as he frowned. Then he glanced once more toward the bed and nodded reluctantly.

  Once they stepped out of the cabin, Julian realized how much calmer the sea had become. He turned. “I believe we’ve escaped the storm.”

  The boy’s sullen eyes remained on the closed portal as he nodded.

  Julian sighed. There could be no mistaking how much mother and son cared for each other. “She’ll be all right,” he said, “Dr. Halston is a very good doctor.”

  Eyes fixed on the door, the boy sniffed once before giving a jerky nod.

  “So tell me, Alexander, where’s your father?” Julian thought it a logical question to ask, one that should be asked. One that needed to be asked.

  “My father died before I was born, sir. I-I’m not certain how.” He paused and glanced up, his bright gray eyes glassy. “Mama would get real sad when I asked about him so I stopped asking a long time ago.”

  He had nothing to say to that. Well, hell. What could he say? Prove to me right now you had a father who died before you were born? No, that wouldn’t do.

  “Are you the captain of this ship, sir?”

  “I am the commander of this ship, but since this is a merchant ship I am called ‘Master.’”

  Alexander nodded, then his eyes went dull and he looked down. “Please, sir, don’t send my mother to prison. None of this is her fault. I talked her in to it. You see, we were robbed and our tickets aboard another ship were stolen.” His shoulders slumped. “Send me to prison instead, sir, but don’t send Mama. I-I don’t think she’d survive it,” he finished in a whisper. “She’s been real sick.”

  “I’m not sending either of you to prison.”

  Slowly, Alexander’s head came up. Seeing gratitude in those swimming eyes made him uncomfortable.

  Then the boy smiled. Julian’s entire body tightened. There was no mistaking that smile. Bloody hell, he thought, sucking in an unsteady breath.

  He had a son.

  CHAPTER 3

  Amelia woke to the murmur of low male voices. Terror shot through her. Had someone broken into…

  Releasing the trapped air in her lungs, she relaxed. She and Alex were no longer in their apartment in New York. They were on a ship.

  Julian’s ship.

  She shuddered as she remembered his last words to her all those years ago. His gorgeous face twisted in rage as he called her a liar and told her to leave. Fear paralyzed her as the awful memory she fought so long to suppress came rushing back in shocking detail, and for a moment, she reverted back to that spineless wisp of a girl cringing at shadows. But that girl was gone, dead the moment she realized her father would not help neither her nor the innocent child growing inside her belly. As she held her precious, tiny boy in her arms for the first time, she knew she would do anything to see him healthy and happy. Whatever it took, she would take good care of Alexander. And out of sheer desperation to keep that promise, she had become strong.

  The memories faded and Amelia opened her eyes. Slowly, she glanced to the men conversing softly near the door, and her heart nearly quit. Oh, God! Lord Julian Westland. There was no mistaking the man. Standing there in a white shirt opened at the neck and tucked into tight-fitting black pantaloons, he was even more sinfully handsome than she remembered.

 
Her gaze slid away, and she grew angry even thinking such thoughts. Certainly, she had a great deal more to consider, such as being stranded on a ship with the very man who could cause her son a great deal of misery. Her eyes closed tightly, until pinpricks of light exploded behind her lids. She wanted to wake from this nightmare. Surely this had to be a nightmare. Fate couldn’t be so cruel, could it? Out of all the ships in port, why did she and Alex have to board this one? What if Julian guessed the truth? Oh, God, what if Alex guessed the truth? Panic shot through her. What was she going to do? What was Julian going to do?

  Drawing in a shaky breath, she opened her eyes and forced herself to calm. This would just have to be dealt with. Another obstacle to be worked out like the thousand before. That was all. Everything would be all right.

  After repeating her ‘everything would be all right’ mantra about ten times to herself, Amelia felt slightly better. And as her pulse quit roaring in her ears, she could just make out what the older man speaking to Julian was saying.

  “…Been suffering malnutrition for some time, Master. Perhaps months. And now, I detect she’s gone without food and water for many days. She must have nourishment without delay.”

  “And the boy?” Julian asked after a brief pause.

  Amelia bit the inside of her cheek. Alex! Oh, please, please don’t have Julian guess the truth. She would not abide anyone speaking cruel words to her son or hurting him in any way. Alex had been through enough hardship already.

  “The boy is in excellent health.” The man shook his dark head, streaks of gray glistened at the temples from the movement. “A direct contrast to his mother.”

  As the elder man turned to leave, Amelia glanced around the cabin for Alex. Where was her son? Then she spotted him sleeping on a chair at the far left corner of the room, a blanket nestled around him. Her clamoring heart settled back into her chest.

  Footsteps drew her attention. Amelia turned back to the doorway. So much for her settled heart. Julian hastened toward her with a large tray in his hands, his expression severe. Her mouth went dry.

  Fighting back the urge to cringe took nearly all the willpower she possessed. But Amelia somehow managed to keep her eyes locked on his without wavering or turning away. She would not revert back into that weak, foolish girl. Not now. Not ever.

  Wordlessly, he set the tray down on the nearby table, flickered a glance in Alex’s direction, then took the chair beside the bed as she sat up and scooted her back against the pillows. Before she could ask anything, the mouth-watering aroma of beef broth and freshly-baked bread filled the air, making her stomach grumble.

  She drew her brows, trying to concentrate on the right words to demand Julian leave. The bread distracted her way too much. She wanted to grab it up and cram it into her mouth. How long had it been since she knew the sensation of a full belly? She honestly couldn’t recall.

  Julian pressed something cool into her hands. The shock of his touch made her jump, but she managed to hold back her gasp. She glanced down at the glass of water, then back up, stunned by the gesture. “What is this?” she asked in what sounded like a croak, her throat so rusty.

  Something sparked in his eyes and he cocked his head to the side. “What’s the matter, Amelia? Afraid I’d give you poison?”

  “Now that is something,” she lifted the glass to her lips, “I wouldn’t put past you.”

  A smile played at the corners of his lips and twinkled in his eyes. Amelia froze. Dear God in heaven, the man had to be more handsome than Lucifer himself. And just as dangerous to the soul. Julian had the sort of looks that made women turn into witless, jabbering magpies. She’d seen it happen years ago, and would wager her left arm it happened still.

  At her hesitation, he sighed. “It’s merely water, Amelia. Drink it.”

  Feeling rather foolish for the direction her thoughts had taken her, she took a large gulp, closing her eyes as the cool liquid slid down her parched throat. Careful to save some for Alex, she took only two more sips before lowering the glass.

  Julian’s dark brows snapped together. “You must drink all of it.”

  She shook her head. “Alex needs—”

  “For God’s sake, Amelia,” he chided softly, “I have more water. Now drink it all.”

  Her cheeks flooded with heat. Because she had no other way to hide her discomfort, she raised the glass back to her lips and drank all of the water.

  He took the empty glass and surprised her with the satisfaction she detected in his eyes. Then he set the tray in her lap and lifted his right brow.

  There was no way she could resist that fresh bread. Resisting the urge to snatch up the entire plate, she took one piece and slowly brought it to her mouth, reminding herself not to gobble it up. After she had eaten until she felt near to busting, she glanced again at Alex. He slept so soundly, his thick, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. She sighed, grateful to see him safe. For the moment.

  “It’s time, Amelia. It’s time you told me everything.”

  His low command caused warning bells to clamor in her head. She stiffened and slowly turned back to Julian as a spark of anger ignited in her chest, burning with fierce protectiveness for her son. “I owe you nothing, my lord.” She spoke the words with soft conviction, damn proud of herself. It had taken many years to develop a spine.

  His face hardened, as if he were about to argue, then flicked a glance at Alex and back. “I must hear the words.” His gaze speared her with insistence, demanding she obey. “I must hear them from you.”

  Amelia resisted the urge to give in, although it took an incredible amount of strength. Her eyes drooped and she sagged against the pillows. “I am rather tired, my lord,” she said as fatigue overwhelmed her. “I haven’t the strength to speak to you now.” She pulled the soft covers that smelled too much like Lord Julian up to her chin and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to pull her under. Prudently, she decided not to inform the noble marquess she would never tell him what he wanted to know. For it took all the willpower she possessed to keep the words she really wanted to say behind her teeth. Most especially words that included his burning in the fiery pits of hell for all eternity with all the other sinister cads of the world.

  ****

  Julian closed his eyes and allowed the cool evening breeze to wash over him, his thoughts spinning out of control like a whirlwind. He wanted to stay and demand that Amelia tell him everything, but he hadn’t wanted to wake Alexander.

  And he wasn’t at all certain he wanted to hear the truth just yet. Even though he knew it. But hearing the words, having his thoughts confirmed, would change his life. From that moment on, nothing would ever be the same.

  He would also have to face something else. Something that may very well eat him up with guilt and remorse. He would have to face what he had done to Amelia. A searing jolt of shame tore through his middle at the admission. He bowed his head and fought the memories of the past. But they pushed through anyway, and he gritted his teeth, recalling every damn detail of what he had done. For the entire two days he waited for Amelia to show up at his doorstep, he had worked up his anger to a white-hot fury, reliving Diana’s warning over and over in his mind. By the time Amelia’s name was announced at the door, he barely let her get two words in. First, he scolded her for coming to him to spout her lies. Then he told her to get out and never return as he stabbed a finger at the door. Her stunned eyes had filled with tears just before she fled, never to be seen or heard from. Until now.

  Julian had believed an ugly lie about Amelia, and he had been wrong. Terribly wrong. But there was no going back to correct the horrible mistake. He could only go forward.

  “We’ve dodged the storm, Master.”

  Opening his eyes, Julian straightened and turned to his first mate. He cleared his throat, trying to focus on the present. “Aye, I’ve noticed. Good work, Lucas.” Reading the expression on the younger man’s face, he released a sigh. “What?”

  Lucas squinted. “Am I that readable?�
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  “Like the Times,” he said, crossing his arms. “What’s on your mind?”

  “The two who sneaked aboard, sir.” His first mate paused, his gaze sliding away. “There’s talk among the men. And, well, we were wondering…?”

  “Who they are?” he finished.

  Looking even more ill at ease, Lucas nodded.

  Taking a deep sigh, Julian stared out across the endless stretch of sea. Watching the sun sink lower into the horizon, its distorted red-gold reflection dancing over the water’s surface, he tried to form an answer. The dark storm clouds at the ship’s aft flickered and glowed with lightning, catching his attention. If one could see his insides, one would no doubt see something very similar. “Amelia is an old acquaintance whom I haven’t seen in years.” He glanced back to his first mate. That would be all the explanation he would give.

  Lucas’s shoulders drooped, obviously disappointed with the vague answer, but nodded. “Understood, Master.”

  As the man walked away, Julian blew out a breath. Hell, he didn’t even understand. He turned back to the rail and settled his hands over the cool wood. He would get to the bottom of what had happened, though. His fingers dug into the railing as something became clear, and anger surged up his middle. Diana had been the liar, not Amelia.

  Listening to the rhythmic whir of the waves splashing against the hull, Julian gained control over his raging emotions. He watched the darkness chase all the sun’s light from the sky and the half-moon rise high overhead. Unable to concentrate on anything else, he summoned every moment he’d shared with Amelia ten years ago. How easily he could recall those memories unsettled him. Especially since he couldn’t remember one blasted feature of the woman he’d spent all night with just before leaving New York. Not even a name. Yet he knew Amelia had a small tan mole behind her left ear. The top of her head came exactly to the tip of his chin. And she had the tiniest hands and feet of anyone he ever knew.

  He drew in an unsteady breath. There were so many other details he could remember about her. Her eyes matched the bluest blue waters near the Caribbean islands and she had a secret love of gothic horror novels. She hated to sing, but she loved to dance.