Page 26 of Make Mine a Marquess

Phoebe Dawson simmered with unleashed passion. She’d come alive in his arms. Warm, welcoming, and lush. He’d wanted to lift her off her feet and crush her to him—for her to feel his arousal hot and hard against the cradle of her thighs. His fingers longed to loosen the tiny row of buttons down her back, lower her dress, and kiss her soft skin. Worship and lick each lush breast until she quivered. He’d been like a starving man and his iron-clad control had slipped.

Christ. He needed a distraction. Something to occupy his mind so that he stopped thinking of her.

He quenched his sexual frustration in the mundane ledgers in the library. He didn’t need to sneak about as he had the night of the masquerade. It was his house and he’d told Willard that he expected to go over the books. He suspected his wily cousin would have two sets of ledgers, one “official” and one hidden. But then, Willard had not believed he’d survive the sinking of the ship. As the years passed, he may have gotten sloppy.

Landon counted on it.

After two hours undisturbed to review the numbers, he spotted a note in the margins. He immediately summoned Aram.

When there was a knock on the door, Landon looked up. “Enter.”

Aram stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “You have a look on your face.”

“I found something.”

Aram sat down in a wooden chair across the desk. “Regarding your cousin, I trust?”

Landon leaned forward in his own chair. “It’s a money trail. Willard tried to hide it, but he was not careful enough.”

“Show me.”

Landon turned the ledger around on the desk to face Aram. “It’s scribbled figures along with a handwritten note in the margins. I believe it’s a name. Aiden Cawley.”

Aram studied the handwriting. “It’s in different ink. A lighter black. Almost as if he’d intended to scratch it out afterward.”

“He may have forgotten to do so,” Landon said. “I told Willard that I wouldn’t look at the ledgers until later in the week.”

Aram’s brow furrowed. “You believe this Aiden Cawley is Willard’s accomplice? Or a hired man who started the ship’s fire?”

“It’s possible. I cross-checked the name with all the bills. There is no merchant named Cawley.”

“How much was the amount in the ledger by his name?”

“Five hundred pounds.”

Aram pursed his lips. “That’s it?”

“The name appears once more. A month later.” Landon turned the pages and pointed to the spot. “Another five hundred pounds.”

“I suppose that’s a sufficient bribe to sink an entire ship and assassinate a marquess. It’s certainly worth looking into.”

“I need to find this man and question him.”

Aram raised a hand. “Before you go further, do you recall anyone with that name on the ship with you?”

“No. There was no Cawley on the roster of sailors. But that doesn’t eliminate him. Aiden Cawley, whoever he is, easily could have used an alias before boarding the Cradle of Zeus.”

“How do you expect to find him then?” Aram asked.

“If he’s from Hertfordshire, then the local tavern is the best place to start.”

“Ah, local gossip. I’ll go with you.” Aram stood to leave, then glanced back, a curious expression on his face. “I forgot to ask. How was your ride this morning with Miss Dawson?”

Landon’s lips curved upward. “Better than expected. She is starting to trust me.”

Their shared kiss was hard to forget. So was his instantaneous fierce response. He’d wanted to do more than kiss her. He wanted her moaning beneath him, begging him to take her. Not for the first time, he wondered what she saw in his cold-blooded cousin. Was she blinded to his faults just to get her hands on his title?

“Careful, friend,” Aram said. “I believe she is innocent.”