Page 74 of Dukes Do It Better
“Consequences,” Phee muttered, echoing the first note he’d received. She shook her head when Malachi glared at her. “Let’s sit. This is making my head hurt, and you still have a lot to answer for, Your Grace.”
Calvin crossed to a bar and poured each of them a drink. When he handed Malachi the tumbler of liquid, he said, “This doesn’t mean we are friends again. Like it or not, it appears we are in this muddle together. I might still let my wife hit you.”
“At least you’re willing to talk to me. Unlike your sister,” Malachi grumbled into his glass.
“You stole her journal. Her private diary, full of extremely sensitive thoughts you had no right to read, Your Grace. On top of that, you have a note from the same blackmailer who had been harassing her friends and family. What was she to think?” Phee didn’t daintily sip her whisky. She downed half the serving in one swallow, then stared Malachi down without a hint of being impacted by the alcoholic burn in her throat.
This all came back to that bloody journal he hadn’t returned. Malachi closed his eyes and sighed. “A street urchin handed the note to me one day and I didn’t know what to make of it. I shoved it in my dresser and used it as a bookmark until I had time and energy to figure out what to do with it.”
“A bookmark in her journal, which she took back,” Cal said dryly.
A rueful smile tugged at Malachi’s mouth. Emma had grabbed the damn book. Because of course she had. Having read the journal and met the woman, he couldn’t doubt it. Emma did what she had to do, no matter what kind of murky waters she had to navigate to find her way out of a situation.
Clasping his hands around the glass, Malachi stared down at his boots. They were the same in that regard. Both willing to do whatever it took to reach the desired result. Willing to lie, cheat, and steal. It made it easier to relax and fully be himself with her.
“For the record, I didn’t steal the damned book. I found it on a beach the last time I was in Olread Cove. Emma and I were already involved when I began to suspect she might be the author. I should have handed it over right away, but to be honest, I was scared she’d run. And we all see how that turned out.”
Any other week, he probably would have noticed the journal was missing. But this had hardly been a normal week.
“That explains the journal. Now tell me why you evicted her.” Phee scowled at him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Malachi said.
“The morning after my sister found her private journal hidden in your room, she received word that instead of purchasing the home she’s been renting for the last several years, she was being evicted—on your order.”
The news stole his breath and he slumped against the back of the chair. “The Olread Cove house. Of all the damned luck. The property manager said someone had offered to purchase the place, but I planned to live there when I wasn’t at sea. I had no idea Emma was the tenant.”
Damn. Emma had burrowed her way into his heart, filling the crevices of his subconscious until he missed having her around in a way that felt elemental. Like she was his air or his water. Yet somehow, he’d bumbled into hurting her in the most personal ways possible.
No wonder she’d run, taking back those tiny bits of trust she’d offered, stealing his heart along with her journal.
It was an odd moment to admit he loved her. When she was gone and he was reeling at all of this new information. Yet, the realization didn’t rock him. The earlier thoughts of marriage hadn’t scared him either. Loving her had been creeping up on him. Inch by inch, one aching moment at a time, until he finally had no choice but to admit that she’d stolen his heart.
And he was the fool who’d hidden behind the guise of a no-strings affair. If he hadn’t been vulnerable about his growing feelings, how could he possibly hold it against her when she didn’t share all of her life with him? How was she to guess he wanted to know everything about her, unless he showed her?
It was bad luck she’d found her journal immediately after they’d agreed to take things further between them. Not only had he withheld her journal, but he’d failed to tell her when he first suspected his feelings were growing deeper. Now she was hurt and scared and probably terrifyingly livid, and it was his fault.
This tangled web of events was exhausting.
“Is that where she is? In Olread Cove packing the cottage?”
Calvin sighed. “She’ll kill me for telling you this, but yes. It sounds like you two need to talk. She’s painted you as the villain, but there seem to be a lot of misunderstandings in play.”
“How does this tie in with a blackmailer demanding money to make my court-martial go away?” The note had been short and to the point. Three down, the game is almost done. If you wish to save your career, deposit 15,000 pounds into the bank account below.
“I hired runners, who checked into that bank account. We paid the money to buy time when the blackmailer demanded a similar sum from Ethan. The account belongs to an investment company out of Australia.”
Malachi came to attention at the same moment the other couple paused, seemingly arriving at the same conclusion. “Australia? What are the chances?” he asked. “It makes sense though. There’s only one person who connects me to you and Ethan.”
“James fucking Montague,” Calvin grunted.
“Three targets, aimed at what that rat bastard would assume mattered most. Ethan and Lottie’s brewery. Our investments. Malachi’s career,” Phee mused.
“Will your career survive this, Mal?” Calvin asked, with a worried groove over the bridge of his nose.
“In the sense that I won’t land in prison, yes. But I’ll never command again.” Damn, this truly was the day for his deceptions to come back around and haunt him.
Over the years he’d forged paperwork. However, James Montague was the only time Mal had forged transport papers to put someone in custody. He’d whipped up countless Freedom Papers, certifying individuals to be freemen. But Montague? He was the one man who had been placed in shackles at the wielding of Mal’s pen. James fucking Montague, indeed. Malachi drained his glass of whisky and savored the burn. “I need to figure out what I’m going to do with my life beyond the Royal Navy. Whatever it is, I want Emma involved if she’ll have me.”
