God knows he hadn’t understood before. She’d talked herself blue on the Defiant. Nothing she’d said had changed his mind. For a man reputed to be the most notorious rake in all of England, he was behaving like a prude. It was enough to drive her insane, knowing that for every minute he kept her away from Atlantis, Gideon put another brick in his fortress of distrust against her, believing that she’d abandoned him as cruelly as his mother. She couldn’t bear the thought!
She frowned as Peggy helped her into her other, more respectable gown. Oh, if only she could return to Atlantis on her own! But she dared not without Jordan’s permission or he’d just follow her, and this time he’d surely bring the Navy with him to destroy the island and all its inhabitants. He was so infuriating!
This morning, when he’d had the audacity to propose that she attend a ball, as if nothing had happened in her life over the past few months, she’d decided to make him understand how unfeeling he was being. Maybe now he’d listen to her.
But first she had to attend this ball, and for a very important reason. This morning, it had occurred to her that as long as she was stuck in England, she might as well find something out about Gideon’s family. That’s why she’d taken out Debrett’s Peerage. According to it, there was a duke’s daughter named Eustacia of the right birth date to be Gideon’s mother. What was more astonishing, however, was the fact that the woman was alive. She was the wife of the Marquess of Dryden. Best of all, Lady Dryden was supposed to be at the ball tonight, if Sara’s information from her friend at the Ladies’ Committee proved true.
Of course, Lady Dryden mightn’t be Gideon’s mother, after all. The other things her friend had told her certainly didn’t fit the woman she’d envisioned as Gideon’s mother. Lady Dryden and her husband weren’t the glittering center of society, but recluses who lived quietly on their Derbyshire estate. Philanthropists who gave generously to several charities, they likewise avoided the public acclamation that came with such generosity. And Lady Dryden was renowned for her affability and kindness.
It didn’t make any sense. The woman was supposed to be spoiled and selfish. She was supposed to be dead, for God’s sake. But Sara had read every page of the peerage and hadn’t found another woman who fit Gideon’s description of his mother so closely.
Perhaps Elias had lied about his wife’s death. Or perhaps Gideon had misunderstood or misheard the name. In any case, tonight she intended to learn the truth. After she tormented Jordan a bit more, of course.
When she came downstairs the second time, he cast an approving glance over her gown before hurrying her out the door. It was only after they were riding in the Blackmore carriage that he spoke to her. “I don’t understand what I’ve done that’s so wrong. I only want to make you happy.”
She stared straight ahead, unable to look at him. “By keeping me from marrying the man I love?”
“You only think you love him. After a while, you’ll see it was just a momentary infatuation—”
“Thank you for that flattering assessment of my character.”
He cast her a startled glance. “What the devil do you mean by that?”
A bitter smile touched her lips. “You really don’t understand, do you? I know there are women of the sort of frivolous character you imagine, who fall in love, then change their minds with a change of scenery.” She thought of Gideon’s mother, who’d abandoned him without a thought. “But surely you didn’t think I was one of them. If I do as you hope and forget Gideon after a few days back in England, won’t that show me to have the most unsteady and unreliable character imaginable?”
“It would show you to be sensible,” Jordan retorted, though he looked uncertain of his position for the first time since they’d left Atlantis.
“Sensible? I think not. A sensible woman doesn’t give her heart, then snatch it away on a whim. It took me a week to see past Gideon’s gruff exterior to the real man beneath, and three weeks more to agree to marry him. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. Don’t you see? I knew you were coming to rescue me. If I’d wanted to resist Gideon, I could have.” Her voice softened as she thought of how Gideon had looked when he’d asked her to marry him. “But I didn’t want to resist him. I still don’t. That’s why I must return.”
He gave a low, exasperated curse. “Ask of me anything but that, Sara, and I’ll give it to you! For God’s sake, I’ll let you practice your reform efforts anywhere you wish, at any time. Just don’t ask me to take you back to that place!”
She stamped her foot, making the carriage wobble on its springs. “I don’t want anything else! What kind of woman do you take me for, to accept such things in the place of the man I love?”
Gritting his teeth, he stared out the window into London’s foggy night. “Haven’t you wondered why this pirate hates the nobility so much? How do you know he won’t change his mind about you one of these days, thanks to his unreasonable hatred?”
“It’s not unreasonable. It’s…it’s…” She stopped just short of telling him about Gideon’s past, just as she had stopped short so many times before. And with good reason. Jordan would never believe the tale. He would think it some sort of lie Gideon had told to gain her sympathies. The very fact that Gideon had never sought out his mother’s family would make the story spurious in Jordan’s eyes. He would never believe a pirate could be too proud to risk the humiliation of discovering that his mother’s family still didn’t want him. That’s why she had to find out the truth before she told Jordan anything.
She fiddled with the clasp on her reticule. “Just believe me when I say he has every reason to hate us.”
They rode in silence a few moments before he spoke again. “So you’re still as set on having this pirate for a husband as before.”
“Yes. And that won’t change, no matter how many balls you drag me to.”
“Then why did you agree to come to this one?”
She avoided his gaze. “I have some…business to take care of.”
“Business? What kind of business?”
She debated what to tell him, then decided she could reveal part of the truth. “I want to meet Lady Dryden, who’s supposed to be in attendance tonight. I have something to discuss with her.”
“Concerning the Ladies’ Committee? I know she’s quite the philanthropist.”
Sara pounced on the excuse eagerly. “Yes. Concerning the Ladies’ Committee.”
“You may have trouble finding her. There’s supposed to be quite a crush.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll find her.” Yes, she’d find her. Even if it meant accosting every matron in the place. Because one way or the other, she was going to find out if Lady Dryden was Gideon’s mother. It was the least she could do for the man she loved.
Gideon boarded the Satyr, pausing as he passed the railing where he had kissed Sara the night of the fire. The night she’d given herself to him so sweetly.
A crushing weight descended on his chest, the same weight that had lain there ever since she left. How long had it been? Three weeks? Four? He hardly knew. The past month had been a blur of sleepless nights and frenzied days. He’d worked his men hard until Barnaby had finally come to him and begged him to let up. But Gideon had wanted the cottages finished, and then when they were all done, he’d thrown himself into having a schoolhouse and a church built.
There was only one purpose left in his life now: to make Atlantis perfect in every way. Then the world would hear of his utopia, of the place where men and women lived freely side by side without the tyrannies of an unjust government. The world would hear, and she would hear. She’d know that he’d succeeded despite her, and she’d curse herself for leaving.
He pounded his fist into the rail. Who was he fooling? She wouldn’t care what happened to Atlantis. She was free of it, and that was all that mattered to her. Everything she’d said about wanting to rebuild it and help it grow…it had all been empty words to distract him from what she was planning. And he’d believed them! Like a lovesic
k fool, he’d believed every word!
He started to leave the rail, then caught sight of his own cottage. It was the only unfinished building on the island. He hadn’t touched it since the day she left. What was the point? Without Sara, there was no reason for him to have a cottage. The only woman he’d ever wanted to marry was her, and now that she was gone…
Now that she was gone, it made no difference what his house looked like or when he ate or how many successes Atlantis realized. Nothing mattered.
Confound it, why couldn’t he get the woman out of his head? Everything made him think of her. When he cut a bunch of bananas, he thought of how much she used to love them. Every time he saw a white embroidered blouse or a red head of hair, his heart leapt. Until he realized it wasn’t her. It would never be her. She was gone, and no matter what she’d said, she wouldn’t be returning. It would be stupid to dream otherwise.
He pulled her locket out of his pocket and stared at it. Why he’d kept it he didn’t know. He turned it over in his hand, remembering how she used to play with it when she was talking to him, her slender fingers twisting the chain this way and that. He ought to toss the blasted thing into the ocean. It represented a lie, the lie that she would return, one of the many she’d told him to deceive him until rescue arrived.
He dangled it out over the rail and looked down at the water, which was deep enough for his purpose. All he had to do was drop it, let it slip from his fingers.
But he couldn’t. Some foolish, sentimental impulse made him shove the locket into his trousers pocket instead, a low curse erupting from his lips.
With a scowl, he strode across the deck and through the entranceway into the saloon, headed for his cabin. Molly and her children still slept there at night, but he used it during the day. And just now he had a very specific purpose in going there. He wanted his bottle of rum. He didn’t often indulge, but today he planned to drink himself into oblivion. For once, he wanted not to be plagued by thoughts of Sara.
Throwing open the door, he entered his cabin, only to hear a squeal and see a blond head disappear under the bed covers. “Come out, damn you, whoever you are!” he shouted. “What in blue blazes are you doing in here?” He’d dismissed his cabin boy from his duties the day they’d settled on Atlantis, so it couldn’t be him, and he’d seen Molly talking earnestly to Louisa not long ago, so it couldn’t be her.
It had better not be one of the other women either. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of them just now. So help him, if it was that blasted Queenie, he’d throw her out on her ass.
Then he realized that the shaking lump under the bed covers was decidedly smaller than any of the women. He groaned. Jane, Molly’s five-year-old. It had to be.
He forced some gentleness into his voice. “Jane, is that you, girl? Come out. It’s all right. I won’t hurt you.”
A blond head emerged slowly from beneath the satin, red eyes and nose first, followed by a pouting mouth. “You yelled at me! You said bad words, and you yelled at me!”
With a sigh, he moved to sit on the bed. “I know, sweetie. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just that I’ve been grouchy lately.”
More of her emerged from under the covers. She laid two chubby arms on top and stared at him with solemn eyes. “Because Miss Sara went away, huh?”
He stiffened. “Miss Sara’s got nothing to do with it.”
“Oh. I thought Miss Sara was gonna marry you.”
“Where’s your mother?” he asked, eager to change the subject. He’d come in here to drown out all thoughts of Sara, not to be reminded of her by a child. “Why did Molly leave you in here all by herself?”
“She said she had to talk to Miss Louisa. She told me to take a nap.” Again she pouted. “I don’t like to take naps.”
Suppressing a smile, he reached over and ruffled her hair. “Yes, but naps are good for little girls. Why don’t you just lie down, and I’ll leave you alone to sleep, all right?”
She lay back obediently against the pillows, but he could feel her eyes follow him as he rose and walked to the desk. Opening the drawer, he took out the bottle of rum, wishing he had some way to hide it from her sight.
“Is that gin?” she asked in a querulous voice.
“No. Now go to sleep.”
“My papa used to drink gin sometimes when he was sad. Then he would sing funny songs and make me laugh.”
Gideon stared at her. Though Sara had told him some of the women had husbands back in England, he’d never thought much about it. After all, if they’d had decent husbands, they wouldn’t have gotten involved in criminal acts in the first place, would they?
“I miss my papa,” she said with a child’s candor. “I miss him lots.”
He felt a twinge of conscience. “Why didn’t you stay with him in England?”
“He and Mama said I had to go with her. He said the men over the sea wouldn’t bother her none if they saw she had me.” Her eyes lit up. “Papa said he would come to be with us soon’s he got the money.” Then her face fell again. “Only…only Mama says he can’t come to be with us, now that we live on the island. Mama says I gots to have a new papa now.”
A bitter lump of guilt caught in his throat. He tried to ignore it. Molly’s husband would most likely never have made it to New South Wales, and she might have been forced to take a new husband there anyway, if only to provide for her children.
But telling himself that didn’t lessen his guilt. Little Jane didn’t understand those fine nuances, did she? She only knew there’d been hope of regaining her father before, and now there was none.
For the first time, he understood what Sara had been trying to make him see. Not all the women were happy to be here. They weren’t all delighted to be given new husbands without having any say in it. No, indeed. Some weren’t at all happy. Some were having to face the fact that they were to lose their loved ones back in England forever.
And it was all thanks to him and his grand plans for utopia. Utopia? When he’d called Atlantis utopia in front of Sara long ago, she’d called it “a utopia where men have all the choices and women have none.” That’s exactly what it was—he had created it to be so. But he was fast discovering that a utopia where only half the people have choices wasn’t much of one.
“Mama says I hafta be a big girl,” Jane went on, tears forming in her pretty green eyes. “She says I got to learn to like my new papa.” She looked up at him, and his heart twisted inside him. “But I miss my own papa. I don’t want a new papa.”
Quickly setting the bottle of rum down on the desk, he moved to sit beside Jane on the bed. He laid his arm around her small shoulders and pulled her close. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You don’t have to have a new papa if you don’t want one. I’ll see to that myself.”
She snuggled against his shoulder with a little sniff. “I wouldn’t mind too much if you were my new papa. But you’re gonna marry Miss Sara, aren’t you? When she gets back.”
She said it with such assurance it nearly broke his heart. “Yes, when she gets back,” he repeated hollowly.
Suddenly, Barnaby burst into the cabin. “Cap’n, you’d better come quick. Molly’s having her baby.” He glanced at the child, then motioned Gideon to come to the door. As Gideon stood up to join him, Barnaby added in a low whisper, “And she’s not doing too well either. It looks like she’s not going to make it. She’s asking for the child, so you’d better bring her along.”
In that moment, Gideon forgot about the bottle of rum he’d come to get. He forgot about Sara’s betrayal and his own hurt. With a sickening lurch in his stomach, he scooped up little Jane in his arms and followed Barnaby out the door.
Chapter 25
The prevailing manners of an age depend more than we are aware, or are willing to allow, on the conduct of the women; this is one of the principal hinges on which the great machine of human society turns.
—HANNAH MORE, “ESSAYS ON VARIOUS
SUBJECTS…FOR YOUNG LADIES”
&nb
sp; Jordan had been right, Sara thought as she looked through the crowded rooms of the Merringtons’ luxurious mansion. Finding Lady Dryden in this crush was impossible. Sara had spent the last two hours looking for the woman, with no success. Since Lady Dryden was not often in society, few people knew her. When Sara did succeed in finding someone who knew her and asked to have Lady Dryden pointed out to her, she was told she’d just missed her. The lady was as elusive as a breath of wind in the calms.
Feeling frustrated, she headed for the balcony to gain a moment of quiet. Unfortunately, a woman emerged on the balcony to join her only a few moments later. They acknowledged each other with polite nods, but respected one another’s privacy by standing in silence for several moments more. The other woman had just turned to go back into the ballroom when the pendant around her neck caught the torchlight, garnering Sara’s attention.
It was an onyx horse’s head, ringed round with diamonds. Though smaller than Gideon’s, it was a veritable copy of the one he wore as a belt buckle.
Sara’s blood pounded in her ears. “Lady Dryden?”
The woman halted, casting her a startled look. “Yes? I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Sara surveyed the woman with building excitement. It was her. It had to be. She had the same jewelry, and even her coloring was right. With midnight hair threaded with gray and eyes the color of bluebells, Lady Dryden certainly could be Gideon’s mother.
But how to begin? Sara had rehearsed this meeting a hundred times, yet now that it was here, she was at a loss. She mustn’t let the woman leave, that was for certain.
“My name is Sara Willis. I’m the Earl of Blackmore’s stepsister.” Sara swallowed. “I-I was just admiring your pendant.” Nothing like getting right to the point, she always said. “I saw a brooch very like it recently.”
The woman stiffened. “Did you? Where?” Her voice was far from nonchalant. Indeed, she seemed suddenly very interested in what Sara had to say.
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