The Captain of All Pleasures (Sutherland Brothers 1)

She paused to consider his question. "No. Not necessarily. If you'll remember, I've been ranting about your doing something. Anything but simply taking the disappointment and anger you've struggled with for five years. Finally, you'll be able to have those children we know you've wanted."

Had he always been so transparent? Had they known that it was what bothered him most about marrying Lydia--not having children? He'd always thought they believed it was because she was unfaithful to him. When in fact, he couldn't bring himself to care about that, since he'd never liked his wife, much less loved her.

Now children were no longer important--he wanted them, but he couldn't live his life without Nicole.

He acted calm, but the news made his head pound in time with his heart. He would end this charade so that when he found Nicole, nothing would stand in his way.

Resolved, he patted his mother's hand and slapped his brother on the back. "If you'll excuse me. This can't wait another day."

Minutes later, facing the elaborate facade of his wife's town home, he was reminded anew of the extreme lavishness of the place. Shortly after they were married, she'd purchased and furnished it using his money, sparing no expense; yet he'd been glad to provide it because he could eliminate one place he might ever run into her. If he did happen to be home from a trip, he avoided the country estates, as well as any of the ton's gilded yet facile amusements. In their five years of marriage, he'd seen his wife on only a handful of occasions.

"Good morning, Lydia," he said civilly as he was shown to her sitting room. As usual, she looked beautiful, with her blue-black hair and glittering green eyes. As usual, she reminded him of a snake.

"What do you want?" she snapped. The only thing that could mar her perfect face was the expression of hate that continually suffused it. He wondered how others couldn't see the malignity from inside that manifested itself in her eyes, but then, he'd been fooled as well.

In the beginning, he'd wanted to ask what had filled her with such bitterness. Though it wouldn't be a simple answer with her. Was it her family's overweening greed? Or the death of the man she'd really wanted to marry? But he was long past even a token interest in his wife by now.

"No small talk? Good. We'll get right down to it. You're pregnant," he said with a nod toward her scarcely rounding belly. "I want a divorce."

She laughed then, a false sound. "You can't divorce me."

"I can and I will."

"That's where you're wrong," she said in an amused tone, shifting her rich brocade morning robe. He'd most likely paid a fortune for it.

Derek forced himself to be calm. He was doing this for his and Nicole's future, and any anger on his part could backfire. "I thought you desired this. You want to marry someone else," he offered reasonably.

"Actually," she began, taking a casual sip of tea, "we'll be getting an annulment."

He kept his face expressionless. With Lydia, any sign of emotion would be seen as a weakness to be exploited. He raised his eyebrows and assumed a disinterested pose. "On what grounds?"

"You are unable to perform your...marital duties." She looked down at her long nails. "You aren't a man to me."

"Is that what you've been telling people?"

She looked up with a chilling smile. "Yes," she hissed, looking very pleased with herself.

He tried not to laugh aloud. He'd never expected such a resolution. "And how do you plan to explain your condition?"

"I'll be gone by the time anyone suspects. My next husband's family is Catholic. He wants his child--but not a divorced mother."

"I can't believe you would do this," he said honestly.

"Believe it. It's already been set in motion. I'll be free of you in a matter of days."

"You've told everyone? There's no way to take it back?"

She gave that same eerie smile. "I've given my oath."

"Excellent!"

She looked startled.

"Bloody good idea, Lydia. I'll see that my solicitors push it through with all haste." He left the beautiful Lydia sputtering, her plump red lips gaping like those of a fish.

Prepared to be chastised, Nicole walked in to see her grandmother for the first time in more than seven months. Before the voyage, she'd claimed she planned to shop during a relaxing vacation on the Continent. Now that the dowager was aware of everything, Nicole braced herself for a martial demeanor and cutting accusations.

So she was more than surprised to find her grandmother, the Marchioness of Atworth, lovingly rubbing noses with one of her pugs, and chatting to the unmoving animal.

"Are you Mommy's wittle Pixie?" she asked. She answered for the dog with something that sounded suspiciously like "Oh, S...U...R."

The dog looked as dumbfounded as Nicole felt. Finally, she cleared her throat.

Her grandmother looked up sharply. "Why weren't you announced?" she asked, tucking the dog under her arm.

"I told Chapman I could show myself in--but if I'm disturbing you..." she said in an incredulous voice.

To her amazement, her stern grandmother chuckled. "Well, you caught me doing the pretty to my pug." Then she held up the object of her affection. "Pixie is such a sweet little girl, isn't she? In the past, I never told her."

In answer, Nicole only raised her eyebrows. She couldn't seem to erase the startled look she felt settling on her face. It became even more fixed when, after setting down the dog, her grandmother walked over and, with a surprising strength, hugged her for the first time in her life.

Nicole recalled the strange moment when she'd seen Maria on the dock in Cape Town. Chancey, the crew, her father--they were all there. She'd had the oddest thought and almost became embarrassed by it: The only one missing is Grandmother.

"Don't look so surprised, gel. I don't hold back feeling any longer. Anytime I want to express emotion, I do it."

It was then that she noticed her grandmother's collar wasn't buttoned to choking tightness, and she wasn't garbed in black. Steel gray, yes, but at least not her usual dour attire. "What brought about this change?" Nicole asked slowly.

"When your father told me where you were going, I was saddened because it appeared that you would do anything to get away from me."

Nicole felt a swift pang of guilt and opened her mouth to explain, but her grandmother continued, "I know now how important that race was to you. So like Laurel you are. No, what really changed me was the word that your ship had gone down. I believed you were dead, and all I could do was recall with regret the times you were here. Regret because I should have treated you differently. I should have told you how very much you are like my own daughter," she confessed, her dark eyes shining.

Nicole sat down at the mention of her mother. "We both loved sailing. I remember hearing her laughter." She met her grandmother's eyes and said, "She was happy in her life."

Her grandmother took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand now what caused her to run away--though her choice of accomplice remains a mystery," she added dryly, and Nicole had to smile.

Then the marchioness turned serious. "I won't chase away my granddaughter as well. Circumstances will change around here. I'll never make it like that for you again," she vowed resolutely.

Nicole must have looked incredulous.

"What? You don't believe me?" Raising an eyebrow, her grandmother boldly challenged, "Invite your father to dinner here tonight."

"Father?" Nicole asked in a strangled tone. "Here? With you? Are you serious?"

"I am always serious."

"What about Chancey?" Nicole ventured to ask.

Her grandmother swallowed and allowed in a pained voice, "Very well." Then amended, "In proper attire..."

Nicole nodded, then dared, "Father also has a...guest with him."

The dowager frowned before flashing a comprehending look. "Oh, a guest. Well, I suppose we should invite her, too."

That night when Jason Lassiter first encountered the marchioness, he lost the ability to speak. Because she said briskly, "I was confident you'

d bring her back safely, Jason." Then she mumbled, "Thank you."

When Maria nudged him to speak, he sputtered, "You should thank Chancey. He was the one who watched out for her."

Chancey didn't think, just pulled at his collar and spoke. "It weren't me that saved her. It were Sutherland."

"Oh? And who's this Sutherland?"

Nicole affected an unconcerned look while everyone around her fell silent. The dowager glanced from face to face, trying to determine why the room had grown quiet. To break the awkwardness, Maria approached her and curtsied.

The marchioness, out of long habit, looked her over, taking in every detail from the unadorned navy dress of fine fabric to the spectacles. With a decided look on her face, she declared, "You must be a governess."

Needed laughter bubbled up. Nicole had to fold her lips in and stare at the ceiling.

Dinner was initially awkward. But the sumptuous meal of braised duck with shallots served with an unstinting flow of wine made even Chancey stop glaring at his utensils.