Sutcliffe’s footman stepped forward, but Sutcliffe stayed him with an arrogant wave of his gloved hand. “Leave us, Lionel. He’s far too weak to do me any harm.”
Lionel pinned Talon with an intimidating glance then shrugged and left the room.
Talon burned with mortification. He hated his obvious weakness, hated that his father was right. He was in no shape to strike fear into anyone. “What are you doing here?”
Sutcliffe gave him an arrogant smile. “Arranging your pardon, of course. You’re a free man, Montgomery. All you need to do is walk out that door.”
Despite his hatred, Talon couldn’t contain the dizzying sense of hope his father’s words provoked. He wanted out of this place. He wanted to lift his face to the sun just one more time...
It would be worth any price he had to pay. And the watchful look on Sutcliffe’s haughty face assured him there would be a price.
The truth of it hit him like a fist in the gut. Sutcliffe had left him to rot for a reason. He’d wanted to make certain Talon was desperate enough to agree to whatever he was about to demand.
“What do you want from me? You wouldn’t help me when I needed it. Why bother now?”
Sutcliffe smiled again, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been busy. I attended to this as soon as I was able.”
With those few careless words, Sutcliffe managed to express how utterly unimportant he found the life of his bastard son.
“I didn’t ask you to help with my release. I needed you to use your influence to intervene on behalf of my crew. It’s the only thing I’ve ever asked of you, and now seventy good men are dead.”
“Don’t work yourself into a state,” Sutcliffe said. “Your disreputable crew is safe and sound, sailing one of my ships to Barbados as we speak.”
Relief washed over Talon with the force of a hurricane. He’d been haunted with guilt, knowing his men had died while he still lived. Now he swayed dizzily with the knowledge that Sutcliffe had saved his crew from the gallows.
Sutcliffe frowned and shoved a chair in Talon’s direction. “Here, boy. Sit down before you fall.”
The last ounce of Talon’s strength deserted him. He had no choice but to take the offered chair. Sutcliffe ensured his capitulation by handing him a tray loaded with fresh bread, cheese, and wine.
Talon’s stomach growled, brought to life by the sharp, wonderful scents. He lifted a piece of crumbling bread to his lips with a trembling hand, eyeing Sutcliffe warily lest he try to snatch it away.
“You’re far too thin and filthy as hell, but that can be remedied,” Sutcliffe mused while Talon devoured the food he’d provided.
Talon paused long enough to raise a sarcastic brow. “If you needed me fat and clean, you should have arranged for my release months ago.”
Sutcliffe threw back his head and laughed. “By God, boy. There’s more of me in you than I’d imagined, but I’m glad to see it. You’re perfect for what I have in mind. Absolutely perfect.”
Sutcliffe’s words should have alarmed him, but the warmth of the room, coupled with the solid feel of good food in his stomach, stole over him, filling him with lethargy. Sutcliffe had spared his men. He was willing to listen.
“What am I perfect for?” He was curious despite himself. Why would a man like Sutcliffe go to so much trouble to ensure the cooperation of an American privateer? It made no sense.
“I need an heir.”
Talon straightened, unamused. “You have an heir.”
Sutcliffe waved his hand dismissively. “Lansdowne is an embarrassment to me. I procured him the loveliest bride in the land, hoping to dissuade him from his perverted ways, but I don’t think he’s so much as touched her hand in passing during the two years they’ve been married.”
Nausea twisted in Talon’s gut. He had an inkling of where this was leading, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. He knew of Viscount Lansdowne’s preference for men. He’d once stalked his half-brother, Daniel, through the streets of London, curious to see what his life might have been like if his mother had been the earl’s wife instead of his mistress. He’d seen far more than he’d wanted to. “What does this have to do with me?”
“I want you to escort Lansdowne and his young wife to my plantation in the Carolinas. He’s become a liability. I don’t want him to return until Lady Kathryn manages to conceive a child.”
The utter ruthlessness in Sutcliffe’s eyes when he spoke of banishing his only legitimate son sent a shiver up Talon’s spine. Perhaps he was the lucky one after all.
“I doubt he’s capable of siring a child,” Talon muttered, disgusted with the entire subject.
“I’m counting on you.” Sutcliffe leaned forward with sudden intensity. “You’re my son, more like me than Daniel could ever hope to be. If you father Lady Kathryn’s child, I’ll have a grandson worthy of my title.”
The earl’s outrageous suggestion hung heavy in the air. “You want me to seduce Daniel’s wife?” Talon shook his head in stunned disbelief. “What makes you think I’d do something like that?”
