A Brother's Honor

by Ferguson, Jo Ann

  A pulse of hope burst through her. Mayhap Sir Harlan would be willing to bargain with her instead of Captain Fitzgerald. If he would let Dominic go, she would not only marry Clive but help him obtain the Sudleys’ investments in his business. She recoiled at the very idea, but as she looked up into Dominic’s eyes, she knew she would pay any price to grant this man his life and his freedom upon the sea.

  His finger beneath her chin steered her lips to his. Slowly, thoroughly, he kissed her, exploring each slippery surface of her mouth. With a moan, he pulled her into his arms. She gasped as his fingers found the curve of her breast. Pleasure scorched her, burning away all other thoughts.

  She grasped his shoulders as the untamable tempest burst forth within her. She answered his hungry desire with her own craving. His legs pressed against hers as his arm tightened around her. When his tongue teased her lips, she combed her fingers through his hair. Each strand clung to her hands, enmeshing her in the bewitchment, as his tongue delved again into her mouth. Its touch sparked against her, setting her aflame with madness.

  “My love, my Abigail,” he whispered between fevered kisses.

  Bringing her to her feet, he turned her so her back was to him. He slowly began to undo the long line of hooks along her back. He bent to place his lips against the warmth of her neck. When she sighed with eager delight, his fingers slipped beneath the loosened gown to stroke her breast.

  She gave a soft cry of yearning as he placed a line of fiery kisses on her shoulder. His hands on her waist brought her to face him. As she raised her fingers to sift through his hair again, she jerked away and shrieked, “No!”

  Dominic whirled at her cry of terror to see Fitzgerald standing in the doorway to the cell. Pritchard and two other men he did not know stood in the cell. Before he could do more, hands wrenched him away from Abigail. She screamed again as one of the men struck Dominic viciously. He careened backward into the wall. With an expression of surprise, he balanced there a moment before he slid down to the floor.

  “Dominic!” The rest of her words were swallowed by her scream as she clawed at the men reaching for her. Ducking beneath their hands, she rushed to him. She took his face in her hands and whispered his name.

  “I am all right, chérie,” he mumbled. Wiping blood from his mouth, he rose. He took her hand and helped her to her feet so they could face Fitzgerald and his men together.

  Abigail shivered so hard that he drew her even closer. He stared at the four men. Fitzgerald was obviously in command here. Dominic ignored the others as he met Fitzgerald’s triumphant eyes. Fitzgerald’s henchmen would not attack without an order from their master.

  “Captain Fitzgerald—” Abigail began.

  “No!” snarled Dominic. “Do not negotiate with him.”

  Fitzgerald laughed. “Listen to your lover, Abigail.” His laugh echoed through the cell. “Sir Harlan will not be pleased with your whorish ways. I could have told him you would be just like your mother. Yet he is eager to have you marry his son.”

  “She is not going to marry that idiot!” Dominic exclaimed.

  “No?” Fitzgerald’s smile grew even more superior. “Ask her if you do not believe me.”

  Dominic whirled Abigail to look at him. He gripped her face and saw it had no more color than her drooping gown. “Tell me he is lying.”

  Abigail could not meet Dominic’s eyes as she whispered, “I do not want to marry him, but—”

  “Fitzgerald, you bastard! You would consign her—”

  “No, Dominic!” she cried as he leaped forward, his fingers on Fitzgerald’s throat.

  The guards swarmed over Dominic, pulling him away from Fitzgerald. As they pressed him up against the wall, Fitzgerald crossed the cell. “You are even more idiotic than I thought, St. Clair.”

  “The name is Levesque.”

  “I do not care if it is the Prince Regent.” Captain Fitzgerald snickered. “You are a fool to think you could have my daughter.”

  Abigail could not read the thoughts hidden behind Dominic’s blank face, for he did not look at her. He must be hurt that she had not been honest with him, but surely he would understand that she had not wanted him to suffer more.

  Captain Fitzgerald continued, “Now that we both know the truth about Abigail’s future, I shall take my daughter and leave.”

  “You will not marry her to that beast!” He pulled away from his captors and started to lunge toward Fitzgerald. He halted when the hammers on four pistols drew back at the same time.

  “No!” cried Abigail. “Don’t shoot him!”

  “Come here,” ordered Captain Fitzgerald. “Obey, or I will let you watch as I deny the hangman his prey.”

  Forcing her feet forward, she shook off Dominic’s hand that reached out to stop her. She could not let him die to protect her. As long as he lived, there was a chance he might escape.

  Captain Fitzgerald grasped her arm. He smiled and placed his gun back under his coat. The other men kept theirs aimed at Dominic.

  “Fitzgerald, don’t marry her to Sir Harlan’s son,” Dominic said quietly. “You will have your vengeance on me. Do not make her suffer more.”

  “My vengeance on you?” Captain Fitzgerald laughed sharply. “You value yourself too highly. That you are dying is just a bonus. Abigail is all I have thought of.” He flicked at the lace on her dress. “Her and the ten thousand pounds I will receive when she gives Sir Harlan’s son a child.”

  Dominic shouted a curse as he jumped again toward Fitzgerald. Abigail’s scream drowned out Dominic’s groan as he fell to the floor beneath the hard butt of Pritchard’s gun. He did not move.

  Captain Fitzgerald pulled her out of the cell before she could be certain if Dominic lived or not. She clawed at him, but he struck her hard. Her head spun, and she nearly collapsed. He dragged her out of the prison and toward a carriage waiting on the road beyond it.

  He shoved her into the carriage. She grasped the straps on the side as it started wildly along the street. Hiding her face in her hands, she tried to stop her head from careening about as crazily.

  Her head was tilted up to face Captain Fitzgerald’s fury. She tried to push away his hands, but he spat, “You fool!”

  “You are the fool! If you think I will cooperate now, you—”

  He chortled. “You will, daughter. If you do not do everything as I say, he shall be sent to the gallows posthaste.”

  Abigail started to retort, then recalled how she wanted to negotiate with Sir Harlan. Captain Fitzgerald could see only the sparkle of gold and his chance to have his final revenge on the woman who loved his brother more.

  “I should have guessed this was where you were slinking off to when your maid said you were being fitted for your wedding gown,” Captain Fitzgerald growled.

  “Tessie believed what I told her.” She must not let her sole ally in the house be punished or banished.

  “Sir Harlan will not be happy that you have been playing the whore for that pirate.” He leaned his arm on the window. “I do believe I shall suggest that, instead of delaying the wedding again because of your lusts, he lock you in your room to keep you chaste.”

  If she had not been so fearful for Dominic, she would have laughed at this odd conversation. Captain Fitzgerald knew as she did that Sir Harlan did not care what she had done before she became betrothed to his son. All he wanted was to be sure no one questioned that the child she would be forced to conceive was his legitimate grandson.

  “I love Dominic,” she said simply.

  “Be silent!”

  Abigail folded her hands in her lap, obeying only because she did not want anything she said or did to cause Dominic to be sent to the gallows more quickly.

  The assertive knock on Abigail’s bedchamber door identified the caller as Sir Harlan even before Tessie went to open it Abigail turned on the chair by her dressing table where she had been getting ready for bed to see Sir Harlan waddle into her bedroom.

  He carried something in his hands, b
ut she ignored it as he said, “Good evening.”

  She nodded.

  His bulbous face lengthened with a frown. “I hope you will be more gracious when we dine tomorrow evening. The minister is calling to meet you before the wedding.”

  She nodded.

  “Do you have no curiosity when the wedding will be held?”

  She simply stared at him. She would not let him use her words as weapons against her. Her attempt this afternoon to get him to listen to reason and free Dominic in exchange for what she could offer had failed utterly, and she had nothing left to say him.

  “It shall be at the end of this week.”

  It took every bit of strength Abigail had not to react. Hearing Tessie’s hushed sob, a sound that was quickly masked when Sir Harlan scowled at the maid, Abigail picked up her brush and continued to work on her hair as if nothing else concerned her.

  “I want you to wear these tomorrow evening,” ordered Sir Harlan as he dropped a jewelry box on the table.

  Abigail again stiffened her shoulders so she would not flinch. She recognized the box, for she had taken it from the safe herself. Not daring to look at Tessie, she picked up the box. She kept her fingers from shaking as she raised the lid. “Oh, how lovely! But, Sir Harlan, I—”

  “No arguments! You will wear the necklace and earrings.”

  “Necklace?” she asked, hoping her astonishment sounded unfeigned. “What necklace?”

  He ripped the box from her hand and stared at the earbobs next to the indentation where the emerald necklace should have been. Slowly he closed the lid and placed it on the dressing table. “Tessie, leave us.”

  “Sir Harlan, it is late. I must help Miss—”

  “Leave us, I said.”

  The very serenity of his words frightened Abigail, who added, “I will call you when I need you, Tessie. Thank you.”

  “Yes, Miss Abigail.” She dropped to a quick curtsy that Sir Harlan expected from the servants, then left the room.

  Knowing Tessie would not go far but was helpless to assist, Abigail rose. “Why do you want to speak to me alone?”

  He stuck his nose close to hers. “Where is it?”

  “It? If you mean the necklace, I have no idea.” That was the truth. Although she was sure Red had sold the stones immediately, she did not know where they were now.

  He shoved her back onto the chair. “You are the only other person who knows where I kept the key to the jewelry case.”

  “Someone else must possess that knowledge. Mayhap someone else in your family?”

  “Are you suggesting Clive?” He laughed icily.

  “Clive is not as witless as you pretend he is. If you would—”

  “Be silent! We are not talking about your betrothed. We are talking about this necklace. Where is it?”

  “I told you. I don’t know.”

  “Did you take it?”

  Abigail laughed as sharply as he had. “Why would I take what would be mine when I marry Clive?”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. Slowly his fingers drilled into her until she winced. “Mayhap you had some need for the money you could get for it. Captain Fitzgerald let me know that you have been visiting St. Clair in his prison.”

  “Dominic’s name is Dominic Levesque.” She wanted to add that Dominic could claim the title of duc, but Tessie had warned her that Sir Harlan would be furious to learn Dominic possessed a higher rank than he did.

  “St. Clair or Levesque—I do not care what his name is. I want to know why you stole the necklace. Did you try to bribe the guards to get him out of prison?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t?” His malicious laugh filled the room. “Are you certain?”

  “I am not lying.”

  “We shall have to see about that.”

  Abigail frowned as he went to the door. Sir Harlan ordered her not to move, but she slowly stood. His glare warned her to disobey no more of his commands.

  Hearing his shout along the corridor, she cried, “No! Tessie knows nothing of any of this.”

  She watched in horror as Fuller herded Tessie into the room. She had not guessed the burly guard did more than keep Clive out of sight. When she saw what he carried in his hand, she moaned in horror. He handed the cudgel to Sir Harlan, who stroked it.

  “Tell me when you wish to speak the truth, my dear,” the baronet said. “If you do so quickly, you will save your maid a great deal of pain.”

  Before she could answer, he motioned to Fuller, who shoved Tessie to the floor. Sir Harlan raised the cudgel.

  “All right!” Abigail cried.

  “No, Miss Abigail!” shouted Tessie.

  Sir Harlan asked quietly, “All right what, my dear?”

  “I did take the necklace! Don’t hurt her!” She lowered her eyes away from his triumphant smile. “I told you the truth. Let Tessie go.”

  He waved to Fuller to let Tessie stand.

  The guard grumbled, unhappy that he had been denied the chance to beat Tessie into submission. When Tessie tried to rush to Abigail, he shoved her out of the room.

  “Don’t let him hurt her,” Abigail whispered.

  Sir Harlan tossed the stick onto the bed. “He will not, if you do as you should. Where is the necklace?”

  “I don’t know.” She added quickly when he reached for the door to call Tessie back, “Honestly, Sir Harlan, I don’t know where it is. I … I gave it away.”

  “You gave away a necklace worth hundreds of pounds?” he choked. His face became a choleric red as he ranted about her stupidity which made her no better than his witless son. When she did not react, he stopped his pacing and asked, “And whom did you give it to?”

  “A man who did me a favor.”

  “Which was?”

  “Delivering a message.”

  He growled, “It must have been a very important message.”

  “It was.”

  “Damn you!” he shouted. “I gave that necklace to my wife the day we were wed. You were to wear it when you marry Clive. Instead you used it to carry tales for a French pirate.” Suddenly his rage became laughter. Patting her shoulder, he picked up the box. “In the long run, it matters little. Your attempt failed. By this time tomorrow, your gallant lover will be raven’s meat on the gallows.”

  “Tomorrow?” She sat on the chair. “Tomorrow? I thought—that is, I was sure that—”

  “That I would let your pirate live until you married Clive?” He smiled. “That had been my plan, my dear, until you were so stupid as to let me give you another to bring you to heel.”

  “Tessie,” she whispered. Looking up at him, she knew she had underestimated his determination to get his son a bride. “You put her here as my maid, knowing she would help me because of her sister’s death.”

  “Exactly.”

  The sound of his laughter remained when he walked out of the room. It taunted her with knowing that all she had done had been for naught. Now Dominic would die because he had tried to save her, and she was not sure how to halt the execution.

  She put her head down on the dressing table and wept.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dominic leaned his arm against the wall by the slit that let in the moonlight. He had been standing here since the sun vanished beyond the hills. The blood on his face had dried to a crust that tore each time he spoke. His last words had been fired at Pritchard when his supper had been brought and he had refused it with a curse.

  The only reason he was still here instead of in the hellish pens below was the view out of this slit. He knew that Fitzgerald wanted Dominic to spend his final night alive staring at the house where Abigail would be forced into Sir Harlan’s son’s bed by week’s end.

  Pritchard had been glad to share every disgusting detail with him. Dominic had heard the rumors during his short time in London about the witless son of the pompous man who was hated by the French for betraying them as Fitzgerald had betrayed the Americans. He should have guessed that Sir Harlan would p
ay highly for a bride for his son, and that someone like Fitzgerald would be eager to obtain that money no matter the pain it caused.

  His fingers curled into a fist. Curse Fitzgerald! Why hadn’t he cut the cur’s throat when he had the chance? If he had slain Fitzgerald when the Republic was captured, Abigail would not be facing this horror now.

  Nor would she have ever forgiven Dominic for executing a man she then had believed was her father, a man who wanted to give her the chance she never had to know him. Now Abigail had learned the truth along with its cost.

  There must be someone who would put a stop to this wedding. Evan Somerset! If he could contact his old partner, mayhap Evan would come to her rescue.

  With a sigh, Dominic continued to stare at the house that was brightly lit against the night sky. He had no way to contact Evan. His father’s ring would be more than enough to pay for the message to be carried to London, but he did not trust Pritchard.

  A key rattled in the door, but Dominic did not turn. When it opened, he said, “Take the food away. I am not hungry.”

  “I guess there is a first time for everything.”

  Dominic spun at the laughter in the voice from his past. He grasped Evan by the shoulders, then pushed past him and closed the door.

  “Don’t worry about anyone discovering I am here, mon ami,” Evan said with another chuckle. He held up a ring of keys.

  “How did you get those?” Dominic walked back to his friend. “If I recall correctly, your skills as a pickpocket are much lacking.”

  “But my wife’s skills as a cook are not.”

  Dominic frowned, puzzled. “Do you want to explain that? I thought your wife was the daughter of a duc.”

  “Brienne’s life has been as unlike the child of a duc as yours has been. She grew up working in the kitchen of the LeClercs’ salon in London.” He patted his stomach. “I can assure you she is an excellent cook. She made some of her delicious chicken soup for the guards in this prison. She added a bit of something extra to it before I delivered it to the kitchen. Nothing too dangerous. Just a healthy serving of opium.”

  “I think you made a wise choice in a wife, my friend.”