Page 84 of Make Mine a Marquess

His pulse leapt as he scanned the first letter. It was addressed to Aiden Cawley, Willard’s hired man, and mentioned his failure to finish the job during the sinking of the Cradle of Zeus. Willard wouldn’t pay Cawley what he was due until the job was finished. He didn’t mention what the job was, but Landon knew his cousin meant to have him murdered. The letter hadn’t yet been delivered and Landon could only guess it was because Cawley had been absent from the village.

So Willard hadn’t paid Cawley what he’d promised?

They needed to find this hired man. Nothing made a criminal angrier than not receiving money he thought was his due.

The second letter was the most damning. One dated just days ago. One that also had not yet been delivered to Cawley.

Cawley,

Do not touch the marquess at Landon House for it will look too convenient. Once he returns to London, finish the job. Proof of death is a must. Once it’s seen to, you will be paid all you are due.

WW

Willard had even signed it with his initials, William Willard. Landon’s jaw clenched and his breath burned in his throat. It was just as he and Aram had suspected. Willard’s treachery wouldn’t end until Landon was dead, and the bastard had the title along with the wealth of the marquessate.

And the rich dowry of his bride.

Hatred burned in Landon’s chest. He resisted the urge to crumple the letters in his fist. Instead, he tucked them inside his coat pocket. He’d found what he’d come for. The magistrate could handle the—

“What are you doing here?”

At the feminine voice, he turned to find Phoebe standing in the open doorway.

Damn. He had been so engrossed that he hadn’t heard the door.

Good God, what was she doing here so soon? He could still hear the violins playing below. She should be with the others, listening and perhaps dancing. His gut tightened and his mind floundered, searching for an explanation.

He was struck by her beauty tonight. Her sapphire gown made her blue eyes appear large and luminous. Her thick lashes curled upward at the corners, and she openly watched him.

“Shut the door,” he instructed.

She didn’t move. “You weren’t at tonight’s festivities.”

“No.”

“I looked for you.”

He needed to come up with a believable excuse for his presence in her bedchamber. Thankfully, the letters were hidden in his coat and out of sight. At one time, he might have thought she knew her fiancé had hidden letters in her room. It was no longer a question. Somehow, Willard had slipped into her private domain and hidden them. He must have suspected they would search for them, or would have accidentally found them had they been kept in the study. Landon hated Willard even more for involving her this way.

She was watching him, her eyes full of questions.

“I was waiting for you.” A pang of guilt centered in his chest for lying. He had no choice. He thought about telling her part of the truth, that he was searching her room for documents, but shoved that aside. He didn’t want to involve her in any of the treachery. Another part of himself wanted her to end her betrothal to Willard on her own.

Her lips parted. “You were?”

“Yes.”

Her breast rose and fell in her tight bodice, the tempting flesh drawing his gaze. She was lush and lovely and everything he wanted.

Her eyes widened, and she turned from him to the cat. “Mimi, come.”

Mimi jumped down from her perch and scurried out of the room. Phoebe shut the door. “She’ll get a treat from the kitchens.”

Turning back to him, she surprised him by asking, “But why were you waiting for me?”

The words came easier now. “Because I can’t stop thinking about our night together.” The best lies were based in truth. He had thought of her naked and writhing beneath him for hours, days. Even now, he had a hard time not going to her to pull her into his arms. “Tell me you feel the same,” he urged.

Her lips parted and her chest rose with an intake of breath. “You mean have I thought of our passionate evening of lovemaking?”