Forever a Lord by Delilah Marvelle Read Free Book Online Page A

away. “Keep those hands to yourself. I’m not interested.”
    Matthew let out a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mister fecking Viscount.” Matthew nudged him. “But ey. At least we’ll be living all posh once we get to London what with you being an aristo, right?”
    Nathaniel snorted. “If you mean posh as in us moving in with my father, I don’t think so. I’d sooner slit his throat. I plan on looking into some milling coves and try to make some money that way before I figure out what happens next.” Nathaniel stared at the misty horizon that swayed with the ship, knowing that once in London, bigger things on the horizon awaited him. Like facing a father he wanted dead for reasons he would never be able to share with anyone but Matthew. What if he really killed the bastard? What if he—
    Matthew nudged him again. “So where are we going to stay?”
    It was like answering a thousand and one questions. Nathaniel shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll find a hotel.”
    “It better be cheap. I’ve only got six dollars.”
    “Whilst I only have four.”
    “Nice, that. It’s the dead leading the dead.” He paused. “Ey. I’ve got an idea. My ‘stepmother’ is in London. Maybe we can hunt her down. She’d put us up.”
    “What? Georgia?”
    “Yes. Georgia. How many stepmothers do I have?”
    “Don’t be dragging that poor girl into our mess.”
    “She ain’t poor anymore. She found herself a rich one.” Matthew smirked and readjusted his eye patch. “So what about this family of yours? Your sister’s husband and son. Can’t we stay with them?”
    “No. We’re not exactly their type of people, Milton. Nor do I plan on announcing myself to anyone until I figure out how to wade through this mess. A man just doesn’t show up thirty years later to yell out to the world, ‘Here I am, oh, and by the by I’m thinking of killing my own father.’”
    Matthew hesitated. “Why do I have this feeling London is going to make a mess of both our lives?”
    “Because it probably will. But in your case, it’s better than being dead.”
    “I’ll say.” Matthew eyed him and pushed away from the railing. “I’m going to settle into our cabin. You coming?”
    Nathaniel swallowed, feeling his throat closing up at the thought of those low timbered ceilings and that musty windowless room lit by a lone lantern. He was not sleeping below deck. “No. I plan on sleeping out here.”
    “On deck?” Matthew echoed, dark brows rising. “And what if you roll the wrong way and plunk into the ocean?”
    Nathaniel glared. “I know how to swim, Milton. But as you damn well know, I’m not one for small spaces. So take the fucking cabin and leave me to have my deck.”
    “All right, all right. Do you want me to sleep on deck with you?”
    Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “If I ever need a man to help me sleep, I give you permission to throw me overboard. Now go get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning. And sleep with your pistols. Just until we get to London.”
    “Fine. I’ll humor you.” Matthew nodded, shoving his hands into his great coat pocket, and strode down the length of the deck toward the cabins below deck.
    Blowing out a slow breath, Nathaniel leaned against the railing, letting the cold wind whip at his face. The ocean seemed overwhelmingly endless. It was amazing. There were no walls or ceilings, only vast, endless sky and water.
    When night eventually cloaked the ship, Nathaniel settled himself with a lantern below an eve, using his coat for a blanket and bundled ropes for a pillow, which he set under his head.
    Fingering the ropes, he stared up at the swaying night sky that had smoothed into clarity and revealed glimmering stars. Though he rarely got lonely, for his head kept him too busy for that, in that moment, with the roaring of the waves that meshed into silence, he would have liked a woman to keep him warm on deck beneath all those stars.
    He paused. No. What he really wanted and needed was