by Holt, Cheryl
“That first day—when you’d sprained your ankle out on the road—you were so fetching.”
“You silver-tongued devil. With all these compliments, I’ll become annoyingly vain. You’ll turn me into a female version of yourself.”
“I never thought a woman like you could care about a man like me.”
“A woman like me? What about me?”
“You’re so…different from the women in my world.”
“I should hope so.”
“You’re so fresh and innocent.”
“I’m not so innocent anymore.” She grinned, trying for levity.
“I hate that I’ve corrupted you. When I think of Bramble Bay in the future, I want to remember you just as you were that afternoon on the lane.”
The comment sounded too final, and she definitely noticed. She frowned. “Why are you talking like this? You act as if we’re parting, as if I’ll never see you again once I’m home.”
He studied her eyes, his expression affectionate and warm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
He started kissing her again, and quickly, they were swept into a pool of desire.
There wasn’t time for disrobing or a slow sizzle of passion that could build and build. At any moment, a crew member could knock on the door and request his assistance up on the deck.
He didn’t unbutton her dress, and she didn’t tug off his shirt. He didn’t suckle her breasts, and she didn’t caress his body as he loved her to do.
He opened his trousers, widened her thighs and slipped into her, the hem of her skirt bunched between them. He filled her completely, but still, he could never get near enough, could never hold her as tightly as he needed to, and this occasion was the same.
Though he tried, he couldn’t conceal his despair, and she perceived his anguish. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and gripped him fiercely, as if—should she release him—he might float off into the sky.
He thrust into her over and over, his movements almost desperate. With a moan of distress, he spilled himself and collapsed onto her.
For a lengthy interval, they lay like two marble statues, frozen in place. Eventually, he slid onto his side, spooning himself to her. She reached up to find his cheek, to stroke it, and he clasped her palm and kissed the center.
He sighed, his chest rising and falling as he exhaled a heavy breath.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,”she said.
“I’m just tired.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re awfully maudlin tonight. It’s not like you.”
“I apologize.”
“We’ll always be together, John. We’ll be fine.”
“Yes, we will be,”he agreed. “Why don’t you get some more sleep?”
She yawned. “Will you stay until I doze off?”
“Of course.”
He waited, feeling her relax, her respiration slow, then he crept away and tiptoed out. He lurched over to the ladder and plopped down on the bottom rung, his head in his hands.
Could he leave her? Could he deliver her to Bramble Bay, then ride away?
He didn’t know, but how could he travel the other path?
It led to marriage and commitment and a tedious existence as a country gentleman and farmer. He’d go mad the first week. He’d drive her mad shortly after, and she’d wind up hating him. There was no route to happiness for them.
It was only a matter of time before he met a bad end, and she deserved a husband who would love her and be with her forever.
What to do? What to do?
The question pounded through him like a blacksmith’s hammer striking an anvil. Sick with regret, with confusion, he was frantic to return to his cabin, but in his current state, there was no predicting how foolishly he might behave.
He pushed himself to his feet, clambered up the ladder, and walked to the helm. He had to focus on England, on docking the ship safe and sound.
What would happen after that—how he would proceed, what he would choose—he couldn’t begin to guess.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Am I doing the right thing?”
“Absolutely.”
Mildred looked over at Sheldon. They were in the front parlor, enjoying a pot of tea, which they were both having trouble drinking. They chatted like the friends they were, as if there was no chaos looming on the horizon.
With all that was approaching, she’d needed his steady presence, and she was so glad she’d asked him to stop by, that he’d agreed to assist her.
Sarah didn’t want him as a spouse, but Mildred wondered what Sarah’s opinion would be when she returned from France and was faced with the reality of her situation.
No doubt she’d surrendered the only item a single female had that was of any genuine value—her chastity—and her home was lost. Hedley had squandered her dowry, so she had no money. Her prospects were quite reduced from what they’d been earlier in the summer.
She might conclude that Sheldon wasn’t such a bad option, but Mildred was determined to beat Sarah to the prize. Sarah was too stupid to save herself, but Mildred could clearly see the best path. Her husband, Bernard, had been much older than she was, and she wasn’t too proud to pick an elderly man the second time around.
Sheldon hadn’t yet realized that Mildred should be his wife, but there were ways to force his hand, and she didn’t mind using any trick at her disposal to garner what she required.
“I hate all this drama,”she said. “I wish it was over.”
“I understand,”Sheldon sagely concurred. “There’s a reason we call it the quiet life in the country. We shouldn’t have to have our routines disrupted with discord and disputes.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Caroline entered the room, and she was extremely preoccupied, so she didn’t glance back to notice the disaster looming behind her.
Foolish girl.
“You wanted to speak with me, Mildred?”she asked.
“Yes. Mr. Hook is off the property, chasing after Miss Dubois.”
Caroline scowled. “He’s not chasing her. He’s riding to Dover with her. She’s sailing to France today.”
“No, I had a note from Hedley. She refused to go to France, and Hedley is escorting her to London. Mr. Hook was particularly aggrieved by her decision and went after her to put her on the ship as was arranged.”
“Thank you for telling me,”Caroline slowly replied, confused as to why she’d been summoned.
“I sought Sheldon’s advice about what should be done with you.”
“What should be done with me?”Caroline snapped. She’d never liked Sheldon, and he’d never liked her. “I’m an adult, Mildred. You don’t need to fret over me as if I was a child. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Really? Are you aware that the entire staff is gossiping about your liaison with Mr. Hook?”
“I fail to see how my relationship with him is any of your business.”
“Until Mr. Sinclair comes back, it’s still my house, and the people in it are still my servants. If matters resolve as I’m expecting, Bramble Bay will remain my property, so I’m informing you that your immorality has shamed us and it’s over.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,”Caroline grumbled. “Will that be all?”
“Sheldon agrees with me that this is for the best.”
“What is for the best?”
“Hello, Caroline,”Archie said from over by the door.
He was Mildred’s distant cousin, and she didn’t know him very well, but she’d never observed any outward displays of aggression or even discourtesy. So she hadn’t believed Caroline’s tales of vicious rages and abuse.
Yet at the moment, with a flush on his cheeks and fire in his eyes, Mildred suspected there might have been some truth to Caroline’s stories. But so what? Archie was her husband, and Caroline had always been difficult. If Archie had punished her, Mildred was positive Caroline deserved it.
Caroline whipped around. “Archie! What are you doing here?”
“He never left the village,”Mildred explained. “We’ve been waiting for Mr. Hook to absent himself so Archie could retrieve you.”
“She sent for me,”Archie added, “the minute Mr. Hook rode down the drive.”
He took a step toward Caroline, and she took a step back.
“I won’t leave with you.” Her stubbornness only ignited his temper.
“You don’t think you will?”Archie seethed.
“I’ll fight you. You’ll have to drag me out.”
“I’m happy to drag you.”
Archie lunged and grabbed her, and though she tried to wrestle away, he was bigger and stronger and he’d brought a rope. Very quickly, he’d tied her with it, her arms secured at her sides.
Even with her bound, she pulled and tussled, but couldn’t escape.
“Caroline,”Sheldon chided, “stop resisting.”
“Shut up, you stupid fool!”Caroline spat.
“A woman belongs with her husband,”Sheldon calmly stated. “You had to go home sooner or later.”
“I’ll kill myself first!”she insisted.
“You will not,”Sheldon evenly replied. “It would be a terrible sin.”
Archie felt compelled to interject, “No more terrible than the adultery she’s been committing.”
Sheldon ignored the crude comment and unfalteringly continued. “Now please leave with your husband. You’re disgracing yourself with this wild behavior.”
Archie taunted, “Where is your fancy lover, Caroline? Where is he when you need him the most?”
“He’ll murder you when he finds out what you’ve done.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure—were I you.”
Archie was bolstered by the fact that Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Hook would—hopefully—not be pestering them much longer. But if the situation didn’t conclude as Mildred anticipated, she feared for Archie.
She’d been living with Mr. Hook for over a month. He wasn’t a man to discount or disregard.
“I’m certain of Mr. Hook,”Caroline said to Archie. “I’m certain he’ll murder you for me.”
“Whore!”Archie shouted, and he slapped her.
The scene was incredibly distasteful, and Sheldon stood and scolded, “Mr. Patterson, there’s no need for violence. I realize you and your wife have had some problems, but you have custody of her now. Take her away. You’re upsetting Mildred.”
Archie seized Caroline and, as he’d threatened, dragged her to the door as she hissed and fought like a rabid cat. But he was determined, and she couldn’t slow him.
“I’ll ask Mr. Hook to kill you too, Mildred,”Caroline hurled. “He’ll attack when you least expect it, so you’d best keep peeking over your shoulder.”
Then she was gone, and Mildred shuddered with relief.
She and Sheldon sat—stunned and affronted—as they listened to Archie haul her out. Shortly, his carriage wheels crunched across the gravel in the drive, his horse’s hooves clopping away.
“That was vile,”Mildred muttered, and she noticed she was trembling.
“Yes, but it was the only possible ending,”Sheldon assured her. “I don’t know what Caroline was thinking by coming here and putting you in such an untenable position.”
“I would have sent her home immediately, but Sarah wouldn’t let me.”
“I wish you’d spoken to me weeks ago. I’d have talked sense to both girls.”
Mildred flashed him a hot, adoring look. “Yes, I should have confided in you. You’ve always been such an enormous help to me.”
“I try,”the annoying, pompous man said.
Mildred sighed. “One down, one to go.”
“I pray the encounter with Mr. Sinclair won’t be as awful as that.”
“It won’t be calm or dull. You just met him once, so you don’t understand how fierce he can be. I don’t imagine he’ll surrender quietly.”
They tarried, glum and disconcerted, the lone sound the ticking of the clock on the mantle. The servants had been transported to the village so no one walked by in the hall. Time ground to a halt. Occasionally, when Mildred’s nerves got the better of her, she’d stroll to the window and stare out at the road.
Eventually, two riders turned in the gate. As they neared, she saw that it was Sarah and John Sinclair.
“It’s them,”she murmured to Sheldon.
He tiptoed to the foyer and softly called up the stairs, “He’s here.”
There was no response, but up above her head, she heard a shifting of boots.
She went to the door that led into the adjoining dining room and opened it a crack. Miss Dubois was seated at the table, appearing bored and dangerous, while Hedley was pacing and more nervous than Mildred—if that was possible.
“They’re here,”Mildred said.
“Are you certain it’s them?”Hedley asked.
“Yes. They’re approaching the house.”
Hedley was rippling with anxiety, but with excitement, too. There was a huge reward for Mr. Sinclair’s capture, and he was convinced he would receive it.
Mildred thought Miss Dubois might have a different opinion. Dubois wasn’t the type to share, but was more like a poisonous viper, holding very still, hidden from view, ready to strike when no one was watching.
Hedley was completely enamored of Dubois, but he was a horrid judge of character. By involving himself with her, there was no way he’d emerge from the relationship with any benefit.
Mildred glared at Miss Dubois. “I hope you’re sure about this.”
“I am.”
“If you’re wrong, or if you’ve lured my son into a new quagmire with Mr. Sinclair, then I will—”
“You’ll what?”Miss Dubois scoffed, cutting Mildred off.
“I won’t let Hedley suffer because of you.”
“Go away, Madame Teasdale,”Dubois snottily retorted. “I don’t like you, and I’d really rather you mind your own business instead of mine.”
“Will you allow her to treat me like this, Hedley?” Mildred heard the whine in her voice.
“Don’t fuss, Mother,”Hedley replied. “We’ll figure it all out later on. Let’s not quarrel at our moment of triumph.”
“We mustn’t give ourselves away,”Dubois added. “Jean Pierre is extremely dangerous, Madame Teasdale. You shouldn’t forget it. I haven’t.”
Mildred wanted to snipe and argue, wanted to grab the woman by her expensive gown and throw her out. Yet Dubois was correct about one pertinent fact: If Mr. Sinclair was the notorious pirate, Jean Pierre—which Mildred couldn’t fathom—then they were all at great risk until he was under control.
She pulled the door shut and spun to find Sheldon seated on the sofa. She was too flustered to join him, so she remained by the window, furtively observing as Mr. Sinclair and Sarah reined in, as Mr. Sinclair leapt down and tied the horses.
He helped Sarah down, and they stood very close together. Mr. Sinclair spoke intently to Sarah, rested his fingers on her cheek, and she wistfully studied his eyes.
From the position of their bodies and their poignant expressions, Sarah’s infatuation was blatantly clear. But to Mildred’s surprise, Mr. Sinclair seemed to possess some genuine fondness of his own. When he looked at Sarah, his gaze was brimming with desire and longing.
Mildred scowled, wishing the blasted man had never met Hedley, wishing he’d been in residence the day Phillip Sinclair had visited from London. Perhaps Phillip Sinclair could have spirited him away, and all this unpleasantness could have been avoided.
She glanced over at Sheldon. “They’ve dismounted. They’re headed inside.”
“Buck up, dear,”Sheldon murmured. “It will be over in a minute.”
He was blithely sipping his tea, but Mildred couldn’t bear to act so nonchalant. She went to the hall and peered down to the foyer.
Sarah entered first, then Mr. Sinclair.
“Home sweet home,”Sarah said.
&
nbsp; “Are you glad to be back?”Sinclair asked her.
“I have mixed feelings.” She gaped around, then smiled at him. “I’m so different, but everything here is exactly the same.”
As if a signal had been given, a dozen doors slammed open, and soldiers—red coats blazing—raced to surround them.
“Jean Pierre!”the captain of the unit barked, stomping up. “I arrest you on behalf of the Crown.”
“Arrest me?” Mr. Sinclair frowned. “How very odd. On what charge?”
But Mildred noticed that he’d surreptitiously shoved Sarah away. A soldier yanked on her arm, separating her from Sinclair.
“John!”Sarah called. “What is it? What’s happening?”
“Stay back, Sarah,”he called in return.
“Watch his hands! Watch his hands!”a soldier warned.
Before anyone could move, Mr. Sinclair—as if by magic—was holding a pistol. He fired a quick shot, hitting a soldier who collapsed to the floor.
“John!”Sarah shrieked with alarm. She was straining and stretching, trying to reach for him, but she was too short and couldn’t push through the wall of soldiers.
They bravely rushed him, and somehow, he managed to steal a saber. He started slashing with it, fighting like a whirlwind, like a tempest, one against thirty.
Someone was yelling, begging for mercy, shouting for Mr. Hook to intervene. It was Sarah, screaming and screaming. The sound rattled Mildred, shamed and agitated her.
The captain muscled his way into the circle, raised his own pistol and clouted Mr. Sinclair on the side of the head. He staggered and fell to his knees, but he continued to brawl, inflicting more and more damage, until Mildred grew frightened, thinking he might win the battle, that he might slay every single soldier, and she’d be left alone to face his fury.
Finally, the captain bellowed, “Sinclair! Jean Pierre!”
Mr. Sinclair whipped about, his glare murderous, when he saw the captain had an arm around Sarah’s waist, his gun pressed to her temple.
“Stop now,”the captain ordered, “or I’ll arrest her as an accomplice. She’ll hang along with you.”
“Don’t listen to him,”Sarah told Mr. Sinclair. “I’ve done nothing wrong, and he can’t harm me.”
“She’ll hang, Sinclair,”the captain insisted. “I’ll personally see to it.”