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Besides, he knew, deep down, she’d never hurt him, it was his own fears that were really standing in the way.

“Ella,” he said.

But her eyes were on the sailors. One was glancing at her, his gaze appraising her in a most appreciative way. Matthew tamped down the instant of jealousy that jolted through him as she rose and moved to the other table.

“Bonjour,” she said in a friendly tone, her voice soft and lilting. Her back was to him but he could still hear her. “Comment allez-vous?”

“Bien,” the sailor who had been eyeing her responded. They began talking in a rapid sort of French that he couldn’t follow. Excitement and jealousy warred within as he watched them talking and then saw Ella pull the miniature from her reticule.

The sailor nodded his head yes and began to speak in rapid French again. His heart pounded in his chest as he saw Ella nodding eagerly.

And then she was turning back to him, her smile beaming with pride. A hope he hadn’t felt in such a long time bloomed in his chest. “They knew her,” she said, taking her seat. She reached for her ale and took a swig, but her saw her eyes blink several times as she puckered her face. “That was truly dreadful. Why do people drink that?”

He grinned. “I couldn’t say.” His hand reached for hers under the table.

“This ship primarily transports goods from France to England but they pick up goods from all over the world. He says that your sister was on that ship, though her name was Mrs. Baker. Her husband is a sugar farmer in Barbados and they took another boat from France to Barbados to his home there.”

His breath hitched in his chest. She was alive and married? “Why didn’t she tell me that? She said she had a problem she wished to discuss.”

Ella shook her head. “I don’t know. But, if she is there and named Baker, you could write to her.”

He nodded. “I could.” He gave her fingers a squeeze. “Or I could go there. See her for myself and discuss the matter with her. Apologize for not listening. For not being the brother I should have been.”

Her fingers slipped out of his grasp under the table. “That would be an amazing gesture,” she replied quietly. “Truly wonderful.”

He absently held the pint in front of him, his mind now completely occupied with the chance he had been given to make amends with Camille. “I’ll look into it this afternoon. There is no reason for you to stay. I can send you back to the inn in my carriage.”

He saw her lips turn down. He could have sworn those lush pink lips trembled. “Of course. You don’t need me here to book passage. You don’t need me for anything else, really.”

His brow furrowed. Not need her for anything? He needed her for everything.

Before he answered, however, she added. “We shall have to celebrate a successful end to your search tonight.”

“We do,” he murmured, his hand reaching for hers. He held it tightly as excitement bubbled inside him. He could see Camille. Apologize. Ella could come. They would marry first, of course. His jealousy from this morning was all but forgotten. He’d allowed old insecurities to breed jealousy. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Of course,” she replied as he rose and took her hand to help her up.

&n

bsp; “You should rest this afternoon.” He tucked her hand into his elbow, giving it a squeeze. “We’ll celebrate tonight.”

She nodded but didn’t respond as they made their way to the carriage. Helping her in, he held her hand for just a moment longer, emotions he had difficulty expressing crowded in his throat. “Ella,” he said as she paused to turn to him. “Thank you for this.”

A soft, subdued smile touched her lips. “You’re welcome.” Then she climbed into the carriage and was gone.

But as she left, he had the distinct impression that she wasn’t happy. Though he searched his mind, he couldn’t understand why. They were going to be married, they’d travel the world, start a family. Did she not want that?

Chapter Thirteen

Ella pressed her hand to chest, trying to gain control of her emotions as the carriage rolled away. Matthew was going to leave for Barbados and that would be the end.

He’d been angry with her this morning though she hardly understood it and now he’d decided he was done with her. Finished.

She wanted to cry but she held those tears back. She’d cried enough the past few days, the past month, the past several years in fact. Now it was time to make her future. Knocking on the wall to the driver, she shouted out the window, “Please take me to see Her Grace, The Duchess of Landon.”

“Aye, me lady,” the driver called back and Ella felt the carriage veer in another direction.

Within a quarter hour they’d arrived at Tricia’s home and she was seen into a sitting room. She’d come unannounced and was prepared to wait for quite some time but Tricia came rushing in a few minutes later holding a baby.


Tags: Tammy Andresen Wicked Lords of London Historical