Читать книгу Regency Vows: A Gentleman 'Til Midnight / The Trouble with Honour / An Improper Arrangement / A Wedding By Dawn / The Devil Takes a Bride / A Promise by Daylight - Julia London, Alison DeLaine - Страница 32
ОглавлениеIF ONE MORE Lord So-and-so put his hand where it didn’t belong, by God, she would lop it off and laugh while blood pooled on the ballroom floor.
Katherine faced her partner and applauded the orchestra, imagining the satisfaction of drawing her cutlass from its new hiding place in her skirts and showing the lecherous rat how much she appreciated his groping.
The stifling ballroom air cloyed her lungs as desperation began to set in. All her flirtations and imprisoning dresses were going to be for naught. There were bodies everywhere—tall ones, short ones, slender ones, plump ones. Male ones. If opinions could be swayed by “accidentally” touching her breasts, she would have little to worry about tomorrow. But the truth of the matter sat cold and indigestible in her stomach.
“You’re a splendid dancer,” the latest Lord Whatsit told her, steering her through the crowd by her elbow as the orchestra struck up another tune. “Splendid!” For all she knew, he didn’t have any influence at all. But he did have a fascination for her cleavage.
What would he think if he knew that a foot below, her cutlass hung inside a secret opening in her skirts? How gratifying it would be to introduce the two of them and rid him of that sickly smile.
“Allow me to bring you some punch,” he suggested eagerly.
“I’m not thirsty.” She could find the punch herself—just as soon as she located Phil and Honoria and asked whether committing murder would be a strike against her with the committee. Judging from this crowd, she would find them sometime tomorrow.
Suddenly a hand wrapped around her arm, and Captain Warre materialized at her side. “Excuse us, Denby,” he said. Excellent—perhaps he would challenge this imbecile to a duel.
Lord Whatsit backed away with a startled bow. “Of course. A pleasure, Lady Dunscore.” His eyes weren’t on her breasts now. She nearly smiled.
“You look pale,” Captain Warre told her.
She was more glad to see him than she would have wanted to admit. “One can scarcely breathe in here, and I’m dying of thirst.”
“We can’t have that.” He shoved a mostly full glass of red wine into her hand. Hardly a thirst-quencher, but she drank deeply anyhow. A drop of liquid clung to the glass where his lips had touched it, and a tingle awakened low in her belly as she drank. “I know where we can escape the crowds,” he said, and navigated her through the milling hordes.
“Have you found out anything?” she asked.
“A little.” He guided her out of the main ballroom and into a second, equally crowded, side room off which branched a large connecting hall, from which stemmed several smaller passageways. By the time they started down one of these, they were alone. “We can find privacy here,” he said. His hand stayed on the small of her back even though the crowd was gone. Several doorways opened on either side of the passageway; as they passed one, she caught a glimpse of a couple intertwined on a couch. Quickly she looked away.
“Here,” he said, and let her walk ahead of him into a small, empty salon. Behind her, the door shut with a solid click.
Across the room a pair of French doors leading outside stood ajar, and a waft of night air reached her. She inhaled deeply for the first time all evening. “Finally,” she said, “I can breathe.”
He took the glass from her hand, drained the wine she hadn’t finished and reached to set it down on a tiny marble-topped table.
“These disgusting imbeciles,” she fumed. “Tonight is nothing if not a waste, and a detriment to my feet—never mind my dignity. I don’t even know who half of these men—” Captain Warre’s mouth came down on hers before she could finish the sentence.
—are.
His tongue swept past her lips and parried fiercely with hers—hot velvet demanding a response—and whatever she’d been thinking about her dignity vanished. He tasted of wine and power, smelled of spice and sin. She put her hands on his chest with no thought for her cutlass and found rock and fire beneath her palms.
His hands framed her face, skimmed down her neck, cupped her shoulders. Found her breasts. This was no accidental grope. And when his hands closed around her, she had no thought of lopping them off. She heard herself moan. Felt herself succumbing like a drowning man to the undertow. Desire snaked through her deeply. Intimately.
It wasn’t by chance that he’d brought her here. His intention was clear. He would make love to her here, and she would welcome him, give herself to him, and there would be no going back, and then—
She tore her lips away. “You said you had a little news,” she said, breathless.
“Later.” His eyes were the dark green of water churning beneath a storm.
“Now.”
His nostrils flared, and his jaw tightened. She watched him debate whether to comply. “Very well.” Desire roughened his voice. “Hathaway, Edrington and Zagost have all assured me they’ll not support a recommendation against you.”
“That’s three.” And hardly news. She’d expected more.
“There are others.”
“Who?”
“I’ve spoken with all of them. They know where I stand on the matter.”
That was hardly a commitment. The panic that had dogged her since her first night in London returned, seeping through every crack like water through an unsealed hull. “They’re going to vote against me, aren’t they.”
“Not if I can help it.”
She stared at him. What if he couldn’t help it? “Nobody knows me,” she said. “My father’s friends, my old acquaintances—they’ve no reason to support me.” And plenty of reason not to.
“Don’t be irrational. These are reasonable men. They’ll not take this issue lightly.” He bent his head to kiss her again, but she pulled away and paced toward the drapery fluttering in the breeze. Behind her, he exhaled sharply.
“To come to London and attempt to navigate society, when I barely remember my own debut—”
He gave a derisive laugh. “The melodrama returns. Show me the woman who doesn’t remember her debut, and I’ll show you a corpse twenty years in the crypt.”
His sarcasm couldn’t staunch the flow of her fear. Her feet began to move. “What effect did I think I could have? What did I think I would accomplish besides letting all the world witness my humiliation?”
“This is senseless. You’ve already made inroads into society, and I’ve talked with dozens of men. I’m sure I’ve changed more than a few minds.”
But what if he hadn’t? “What if they don’t stop with pains and penalties?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
“What if they press charges against me?” She paced by him to the fireplace in a panic, her fear in control.
“You are not a pirate, and there will be no charges.”
“The questions people ask me—”
“Impolite, certainly, but reflecting a curiosity that works to your benefit.”
“The conversation we overheard, the invitations—”
“Katherine, stop.”
“The odds that they’ll decide to let me keep Dunscore without any conditions—”
“Stop.” This time he grabbed her arm as she walked by. She jerked to a halt and shot her attention to his face.
Please help me. Please do something. She couldn’t beg for help. She wouldn’t.
“It’s too soon to give up,” he said. “Which isn’t to say there’s anything easy about surrendering your fate into someone else’s hands—especially when you’re used to being in command.” His voice was low and calm. It filled the cracks in her resolve like soft tar. Oh, God—she was staring at him the way he must have stared at the Possession’s hull as he’d floated in the water.
“No. No, it isn’t easy,” she said woodenly.
“You’ll have to be cautious about what you tell the committee. You mustn’t lie—”
“Of course.”
“—but you should be...prudent.”
Prudent. A hundred unanswerable questions crowded her tongue. He stood there like Gibraltar, strong and constant, and the desire to be in his arms again nearly overwhelmed her. Instead, she paced toward the fireplace. She’d promised herself she would not lean on him. She needed to say something to distance herself, but now her tongue felt leaden and all she could think was, Please tell me it will be all right.
“What will they want to know?” she asked.
“Everything, no doubt. Things they have no business knowing.”
“And I risk their disapproval if I refuse to answer, as well as if I tell them what they want to know.”
“Unfortunately. Except...”
She spun back. “What?”
His brows were furrowed, and he watched her with troubled eyes. “There’s more than mere high seas drama to your story, Katherine. I would never suggest that you exploit your unfortunate circumstances, but if it would elicit even a small measure of sympathy from the committee members to remember that you were just a girl, and—”
“You want me to describe my capture.”
“It might be helpful.”
“And my captivity.”
“If the story might affect the outcome, yes.” In his eyes she could see that he wanted the story not just for its effect on the committee, but for himself. He wanted every detail, every tragic turn of events, so he could add them like stones to the weight of his debt. Everything he was doing was because of his own guilt—not affection, not even lust.
The past yawned open and began to suck her in, and she fought back hard. She didn’t want his pity. More than anything, suddenly, she wanted his understanding. But she wasn’t going to get it.
He hadn’t moved, and neither had she. They watched each other from several yards away. “You should know that I’ve forgiven you,” she said flatly. “You did what you thought best at the time. I understand that.”
His eyes sparked, and his lips curved mirthlessly. “An ill-timed absolution, given that I’m likely to be instrumental in front of the committee tomorrow.”
“Nonetheless. There is nothing you could have done to stop what happened.”
“You don’t know that,” he said sharply, then calmed. “We can do no good rehashing this. We should return to the crush. I shall do all I can tonight, and tomorrow in front of the committee. I’ll not walk away until everything is settled.”
I don’t want you to walk away ever.
But he hadn’t brought her to this room to calm her fears. The truth of that still burned in his eyes. If she reached for him right now, he would put his arms around her, pull her to him, and she could lose herself in his strength and forget about everyone in that ballroom, if only for the time it took to—
To what? Show him how weak she really was?
She forced her lips into a stiff curve, straightened her skirts and moved toward the door. “Excellent. Then by all means, let us go see what more can be done.”
* * *
NOTHING MORE COULD be done. She knew it in her gut as sure as she could sense the tide changing.
Captain Warre stayed nearby, close enough to lend his influence at the right times, but far enough not to interfere when someone asked her to dance. With each passing minute, she could sense his frustration growing. It was a palpable thing that could not be drowned out by music and laughter.
All was in vain. She knew it to be fact two hours later, after a string of new dance partners, a dozen introductions from Honoria, two very improper suggestions from men who were not even on the committee and a direct cut from Lady Wenthurst. Yet still she kept trying. Hoping. And all the while her breath grew more labored and her smile grew more brittle.
If she did not escape immediately, it would shatter.
She managed to evade Captain Warre while he was talking to a group of men. Desperate for air, for something to soothe her throat, she found a fresh glass of wine and escaped to the private rooms. Within minutes she found the open French doors she’d seen earlier. Unnoticed, she stepped onto the far end of the stone balcony that stretched along the back side of the house. Far to her left, where a set of doors opened into the ballroom, a crowd of people stood talking. Silently she retreated even farther into the shadows.
She set her glass on a stone cap and gripped the railing, desperately inhaling the cool night air. The wine warmed her blood, but a scream pushed at the back of her throat. What in God’s name was she doing here? All this judgment was exactly what she had chosen to avoid by making her life on the Possession.
Was she really going to subject Anne to this now after protecting her from it all this time?
Earlier today she’d almost been able to forget all this, riding with Anne in Lord Deal’s phaeton, hearing Anne squeal with delight. Feeling Lord Deal’s reassuring gaze on them both. For a short time, it had seemed as if everything might turn out all right.
She stared into the darkness as she might have done aboard the Possession, except this railing was stone and the only view was a shrouded garden at the back of the house. Instead of crashing waves, small crescendos of laughter reached her ears. Everything was not going to be all right.
She imagined Captain Warre stepping onto the balcony behind her. Taking her hand and sweeping her away—her and Anne both, to a magnificent ship that they would sail to an exotic land, perhaps the West Indies or China, where they would—
She inhaled sharply. Good God.
Honoria’s voice lilted through her mind. Suppose a man did show honorable intentions—a tolerable man, naturally.
No. Honoria was a fool if she thought Captain Warre had anything like honorable intentions—or that Katherine wished he had.
A shiver feathered her skin. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied by tomorrow’s hearing, would she have thrown caution to the wind and made love with him in that room?
The answer flamed through her blood, and her skin flushed hot in the cool air.
“Pray tell, Lady Dunscore...” A male voice startled her from the shadows between the great columns that lined the outside of the house. “What has given you such an air of agitation?” The Duke of Winston stepped into view, accompanied by another man she recognized as Lord Wenthurst.
She faced them with her chin high. “Good evening, Your Grace. Lord Wenthurst.” She didn’t bother to curtsy. This was the man James had been prepared to duel for the sake of her honor. She raked him with her eyes. One flash of her cutlass would send the poor earl scurrying back to his wife.
The duke, however, was another matter entirely.
The earl cleared his throat. “A pleasure, as always, Lady Dunscore. I, er...” His gaze shot past Winston in the direction of the ballroom. “If you’ll excuse me.” He gave a quick nod of his head and ducked past Winston.
The duke remained, observing her, demonic in a coat of such deep red that it looked as black as his hair.
“Tell me what can I do to ease your distress,” he said smoothly.
“Your powers of observation deceive you,” she told him. “I am not distressed. You are free to return to the festivities.”
“And leave you here alone? Forsooth, madam.” He moved in next to her. “I was sorry not to receive a response to my invitation.” The breeze toyed with the queue at the back of his neck.
“I have received so many such invitations, Your Grace. I confess they have become a blur.”
He smiled, a flash of white teeth in the shadowy night. “Have they? Then please—allow me to refresh your memory.”
She could allow him to do more than that. He chaired the committee. His influence would be enormous. The scent of his cologne reached her and for a crazed moment she imagined offering a smile instead of scorn. Inviting him to pay a call. Taking him to her bed.
The thought had barely formed before it made her want to be sick. “I will save you the embarrassment of propositioning me again by issuing a standing ‘no,’” she said, furious with herself. “Let me be perfectly clear. I will be no man’s mistress.” A brisk gust of wind stripped the heat from her skin and gave her a sudden chill.
“Such directness, Lady Dunscore. You shock me.”
“I very much doubt that anything could shock you, Your Grace.”
His laugh was a rich sound in the night that had probably melted the knees of dozens of romantically misguided girls. He leaned one hip casually against the thick marble railing. “Perhaps not, but I’m always up for a challenge. I have a feeling that you could shock me most extraordinarily given the right circumstance.”
“What a pity you will never find out. Good evening.” She needed to leave this ball. Now.
“You do realize, of course,” he called after her quietly, “that I chair a committee that may hold a very particular interest for you.”
She froze. Slowly she turned back. “Am I to understand,” she began coldly, “that you are using your influence on the committee to blackmail me into a seduction?”
“Perhaps to bargain for a kiss, if that’s what it takes. One touch, Lady Dunscore—” he laughed even more wickedly, lowering his voice to a near-whisper and leaning toward her “—or shall I say, one stroke, and after that there won’t be any bargaining necessary, I assure you.” His eyes burned across her breasts.
“Such confidence, Your Grace.” Voices drifted behind her from the crowd gathered outside the ballroom. “You must be very sure of your skill.”
Apparently sensing victory, he pushed away from the railing and took a step toward her. “I’m very sure when I meet a woman who would appreciate my strengths.” There was just enough light filtering from the windows to see his strengths bulging hard inside his breeches.
“Oh, yes. I certainly can appreciate them.” She feinted with her left hand as though she meant to touch him.
“Then by all means, let us— Bloody hell!” The duke jumped back three feet when she whipped her cutlass from its hiding place in her skirts.
She smiled. “Tell me again about your strengths, Your Grace. I want to be able to appreciate them fully.” A few startled voices grew louder behind her as people began to notice something out of the ordinary was happening. They would draw a crowd, of course. She didn’t care.
“For God’s sake, woman, put that thing down!” he bit out.
“Only if you put yours down, as well.” She lowered the tip of her cutlass to his crotch, and someone behind her gasped. Her blood sang with satisfaction. “Oh, but look how quickly you comply,” she added.
“Good God, she’s going to emasculate him,” someone muttered.
The duke gave her that smile again and held his hands up. “You have me entirely at your mercy, Lady Dunscore. Only have a care for my future family.” A few nervous laughs erupted.
“You’ve made such a point of telling me how eager you are to share your family assets with womankind, Your Grace—”
“Katherine!” Captain Warre called out from somewhere behind her.
“—that I would feel remiss if I didn’t help you.” Lightning-quick she moved her cutlass to a chorus of gasps and cries of alarm, and in the blink of an eye two delicate cuts left the duke’s manhood on the edge of being exposed to the world. To his credit, he didn’t flinch.
“Well, now,” she said, smiling. “It looks as though I can shock you, given the right...circumstance. Say the word, and I shall deliver the coup de grâce.”
Behind her, the crowd was in an uproar. A hand curled tightly around her wrist. “Put that away,” Captain Warre growled in her ear.
Winston calmly held the gaping fabric in place. “I should have heeded your warning, after all, Croston,” he said lightly. “The lady is certainly a threat to one’s anatomy.”
“I rather suspect you are your own worst enemy, Winston.” Captain Warre’s voice was flinty.
Katherine tore from his grasp and dove through the crowd.
“Wait!” Captain Warre’s command barked behind her, but she didn’t stop. This was it—she’d had enough. Knots of people backed out of her way in a chaos of talking and questions. She heard him calling to her but kept going, hurrying faster, running now as people scattered to her right and left, until finally she realized that she did not hear his voice anymore. She made it to the entrance and ordered the footman to get her a hack instantly. There wasn’t time to wait for her coach. Within moments she was clattering toward her house.
She had actually considered him. For a moment she had actually considered taking the duke to her bed in exchange for his support.
This entire business had gone too far. There was no reason for this desperation, no reason that she should consider debasing herself, no reason for any of this. It was time to end it—now, before the Lords ended it for her.
* * *
“THERE IS A gentleman waiting for you in the salon, your ladyship,” Dodd announced in a hushed voice the instant she walked through the door.
“Send him away. And have our trunks brought from the attic. Anne and I will be returning to my ship. I want our things packed within the hour.”
Dodd’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth but wisely shut it again. “The gentleman has refused every request to leave, your ladyship.”
There was no time for this. Whoever it was, she would show him that the spectacle was over. “Then he shall meet with my cutlass.” She veered from the staircase and headed for the salon.
“I think it important to advise your ladyship that the man is intoxicated,” Dodd said with great disapproval, hurrying at her side. “Extremely so. Although perhaps, by now—”
“William!” Relief slammed through her when she saw him sprawled on a sofa.
He sat up. “Good evening, Captain.”
“That will be all,” she said to Dodd. One look told her everything about why William hadn’t called before now. “You’re drunk.”
“Maybe a little.”
More than a little. His hair stuck out at all angles. His clothes were disheveled. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was as unshaven as his worst day at sea. “I’ve been worried, and Anne has been beside herself.” Fear warred with fury at the sight of him.
“I’ve bought a house,” he said, running a hand through his hair, looking at the sofa as though he was trying to decide whether to flop back down.
“You could have sent a note.”
“Could have,” he said. “Too drunk to write.”
The only other time this had happened—it had to have been at least four years ago now—she’d spent three days alone in Valencia with no idea where he was. “A house?”
“Figured I ought to do something with all that money.” He gave a laugh. “Hardly made a dent in it.”
A whiff of tawdry perfume reached her nose. “You’ve been whoring.”
He paced away, and she let him go. “I’m told it’s in excellent condition.” He sank into a chair and dug his fingers into his hair. “Old country estate—got a mind to go look at the place.” He looked up at her with haunted blue eyes. “Marry me, Katherine. Be my wife and come live with me in my godawful house.”
“William, please don’t do this.” It was Valencia all over again, and her heart ached for him.
But pain ripped across his face—that same pain she knew was always there, lurking just below the laughing surface, just out of sight where nobody could see it. He stood up, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I shall never be free of what happened in Barbary. Never. Bloody Christ, Katherine, you’re the only one who’ll ever understand.”
He was wrong. Even she couldn’t really understand, because his captivity had been so much different from hers. She’d become a member of a household, made friends, been cared for. Not so for William. He’d told her of the underground prisons, the crushing labor, the beatings. But she couldn’t begin to imagine the hell he’d been through.
He needed the freedom of the sea as much as she did.
“I’m taking Anne away from here,” she told him. “Tonight.”
“Away!” He faced her abruptly.
“Will you help me gather the crew? Ready the ship?”
“What’s happened?” he demanded.
She told him briefly about her failures, the outrages, and fresh anger flared up. “They will never give me Dunscore. I’ll not allow the committee to humiliate me, only to strip me of Dunscore, anyway. Anne and I will return to sea where we belong.”
He absorbed that news. “Yes.” He paced a few steps away. Turned back. His lips curved a little drunkenly. “God, Katherine—excellent idea.”
A nerve pulsed in her temple, and she started toward the door. “Quickly—let us go upstairs. Help me ready Anne for the journey.”
“God,” he repeated as they crossed the entrance hall. “This is perfect. What I wouldn’t give to feel that Mediterranean sun on my face again.”
“To hear the shouts of the linemen when we raise the sails in the morning,” she agreed, already feeling a surge of anticipation. Those shouts were the sounds of freedom.
“The taste of Spanish cerveza.” New purpose fleeted through William’s haunted eyes. “I shall scour the taverns until I’ve found every last one of the crew, else I’ll hire others,” he said as they climbed the stairs. “With luck we shall set sail in the morning.”
“We will set sail in the morning.” Anything less was unacceptable. “In a month’s time, we shall pass through the strait.” And once they arrived in the Mediterranean, she would decide what to do next.
Now he gave a laugh. “Should we free India from her father’s prison and take her with us?”
“Ha. I’ll not have Cantwell sending anyone after me. Poor India will have to make her own way, I’m afraid.” She began to feel a little giddy, drunk like William, but with anticipation. The first order of business would be to strip off this gown and put on her tunic and trousers.
Anne would be so pleased. She hated London. She would never have to wear a stiff dress now.
But when she topped the stairs, there were voices coming from the direction of the rooms. In front of Anne’s chamber, two trunks sat on the floor and Dodd stood arguing with Miss Bunsby, who blocked the door with her arms folded across her chest.
“What is this?” Katherine demanded.
“Anne is asleep,” Miss Bunsby said.
“I gave orders for our things to be packed immediately. Move aside.” Katherine pushed past her and reached for the door. It was locked. The nerve in her temple became a vicious pounding. “Unlock this door at once.”
Miss Bunsby was unmoved. “You’ll not take her to your ship, only to raise her hopes and then realize you’ve made a mistake. It would be cruel.”
“How dare you.” Katherine turned on her. After what had happened tonight she would never, ever change her mind.
The faint ringing of the bell sounded below. “Someone is here, your ladyship,” Dodd said.
“Do not answer.” She held out her hand to Miss Bunsby. “The key.”
“She has hidden the key, your ladyship,” Dodd said irritatedly. “My set is below stairs.”
“Uppity baggage you’ve got here,” William said.
Miss Bunsby scorched him from head to toe with disapproving eyes. “I am Anne’s governess.”
“And I am her mother,” Katherine snapped. Below, the bell rang incessantly. “You will bring me the key, get your things and leave this house at once.”
“With all due respect, your ladyship has tried that before.”
“I shall have you thrown bodily into the street!”
“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake Lady Anne,” Miss Bunsby hissed.
Katherine turned on Dodd. “Answer the bloody door and kill whoever is on the other side. And bring your keys.”
“You mustn’t do this,” Miss Bunsby said firmly as Dodd hurried away. “What will she think when you tell her you’re returning to the ship? Anyone can see you’re in a state, your ladyship. Please—wait until morning when you’ve calmed yourself.”
William grabbed her by the arm. “Best show me where that key is—”
“Unhand me!”
“—then I’ll escort you out, bags or no.”
As if the devil himself were orchestrating some hellish play, Captain Warre strode down the hallway with Dodd on his heels. “I’ll be bloody damned if I’ll let you return to that ship,” he said to Katherine, pointing that finger at her. “What in God’s name do you hope to accomplish by this?”
Miss Bunsby was still trying and failing to pull herself from William’s grasp.
“Sailing back to the Med and having done with all this nonsense,” William told him. “Perhaps you have a mind to join us?”
“William,” Katherine said sharply.
Captain Warre looked at him. “You’re drunk, Jaxbury.”
“Perhaps.” William shrugged a little. “Wouldn’t get in her way if I was you.”
“Make her see reason, your lordship,” Miss Bunsby begged. “Do not let her wake Anne for this.”
Captain Warre glared at Katherine. “Is what happened with Winston what’s prompted this? For God’s sake, the man would proposition a stone if he could figure out how to get his cock inside it. It’s nothing to take personally.”
“Mama?” Anne’s faint cry came through the locked door.
“Now you’ve done it,” Miss Bunsby whispered harshly.
“Mama?”
“Get the key.” Katherine’s voice was ice.
William released Miss Bunsby, who disappeared into an adjoining room and returned seconds later with the key. Katherine snatched it from her and shoved it in the lock with shaking fingers. Like night settling over the city, reality slowly chilled her temper. Behind her, Miss Bunsby and Captain Warre and William crowded in.
“Your ladyship, please,” Miss Bunsby begged.
She shut the door in their faces and went into Anne’s room alone.
“Mama?”
“I’m here, dearest.”
“I heard shouting.”
Katherine went to the bed and gathered Anne in her arms, suddenly fighting back tears. “A small disagreement. Nothing to worry about.” She imagined the servants streaming into Anne’s darkened room in the middle of the night to pack her things, waking Anne to dress her quickly and whisking her away to the ship...
What on earth had she been thinking?
“Is something happening?” Anne asked.
“No, sweetling. I’ve just returned home later than expected.” She smoothed Anne’s hair from her face and held her close, breathing in her comforting little-girl scent. No sound came from the hallway now. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s all right, Mama.” Anne sighed. “I had such fun today. Do you think Lord Deal will really take us in his phaeton when we get to Scotland?”
“I’m sure he will, darling.” Anne had loved the phaeton ride they’d taken with Lord Deal earlier a bit too much, but it was the first time Anne had laughed since leaving the ship. Just like her grandpa, she’d wanted to go faster and faster. It made Katherine want to take her in a phaeton every day, just to see the light on her face.
Katherine’s chest felt so tight it was hard to draw breath. She would do anything for Anne. Anything in the world.
Even marry?
“Miss Bunsby says a phaeton is dangerous, but I think it is such fun.” Anne snuggled against Katherine’s side. “Miss Bunsby always worries.”
“I know she does.” And thank God for it. Katherine had come so close to failing Anne again with her impulsive decisions. So close. But this was the end.
Tomorrow she would go before the committee. There was a small chance they would simply dismiss the bill as ridiculous and allow her to keep her birthright. But more likely, they would exact some kind of price in exchange for dismissing the bill. They wanted to control her, and they thought they knew how to do it.
Marriage. The word ripped her like a cannonball tearing through wood. Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of willingly entering captivity again.
But the time was past when she could simply abandon whatever could not be had on her own terms. For Anne’s sake it was time to accept what needed to be done in order to keep Dunscore and secure Anne’s future.
If they wanted her to marry, then she would—but she would bloody well do it on her own terms.
