by Cyndi Tefft
The door opened and Eagan strode inside, a heavy blanket wrapped around his sopping wet body. He dropped his boots at the entrance and glanced up, clearly surprised to see me.
“Are you unwell?” he asked, which caught me off guard.
“Me? I’m—” I stammered, getting to my feet. He was nearly blue with the cold and he was concerned about me? I shook my head to focus. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” he replied, feigning ignorance. He crossed the room to the armoire and shrugged off the blanket. His clothes were plastered against his body like they’d been painted on, showing every line of muscle across his back. His butt looked like it was sculpted from marble. I had a mad desire to run my hands over it.
Clearing my throat to distract my mind from wandering into seriously dangerous territory, I replied, “You jumped in after Willie! Why would you do that?”
Turning to face me, he stripped off his soaked shirt and dropped it to the floor. It made a plopping sound and I forced myself to stare at the wet mass instead of letting my eyes linger on the beautiful shape of his bare chest. Still, I couldn’t shake the image of his flat stomach and those perfect lines cut over his hips, disappearing into his waistband. When his pants joined the pile on the floor, I squeezed my eyes shut and mentally smacked myself upside the head.
“Why would I jump into the sea to save the life of one of my men?” The tone of his voice didn’t reveal that he’d seen me looking, but I knew damn well he had. My face flushed with guilt and embarrassment. The sound of him putting on a pair of dry pants allowed me to breathe again.
“But he’s not one of your men. He’s a prisoner just like Aiden,” I argued, forcing my eyes up to his face. The thought of Aiden brought a wellspring of anger bubbling up to the surface. “You’re just going to kill him anyway—both of them—so why put yourself out to save him now? Is it just that you want the thrill of seeing him hang? Is that it?”
He frowned at me like I’d done something wrong and he was deciding what my punishment should be. “Is that what you believe of me?” he asked, his voice too soft and intimate for my comfort. Confusion swirled around me as his gaze held mine. How did he always do this to me? I desperately wanted to hate him, but every time he got near, I seemed to forget he was the enemy. There was something in his eyes that made me want to hold him and never let go. And that terrified me.
“Don’t,” I said. It wasn’t a demand, but a plea for mercy. “Please.”
“Don’t what?” He took a step forward, reaching out to touch my face. His fingertips brushed my cheek and trailed down my jaw. Tingles raced across my shoulders at the touch of his skin against mine.
This was it. The moment had arrived to make my offer and I was scared to death.
I stared at my hands, unable to look at him and say what I had to say. “Don’t kill them. I’ll do anything you want.”
He grunted like I’d punched him in the gut. He took a step back. Silence coated the air between us, thick and bitter as a lungful of smoke. My breaths came fast and shallow as I waited for him to say something.
Finally, he spoke, but instead of the mockery or sensuality I expected to hear, his voice was heavy with disappointment. “So now you’re offering to barter for their lives, is it?”
Still not meeting his eyes, I nodded.
He walked slowly around me in a circle. I could feel his eyes sweeping over my body like he was assessing me, like I was a prize horse he was bidding on. “Anything I want, you say?”
Don’t be an asshole and drag this out! I wanted to scream, but I kept my mouth shut and nodded again.
“Fine,” he said, his tone curt. He walked back to the armoire and pulled out a fresh shirt. Unable to help myself, I watched him put it on, wishing he weren’t so damn beautiful. “Once we reach England, I’ll arrange for their sentence to be commuted.” His words were sharp and clipped like bits of wire. “I’m sailing to the new world shortly and the three of you will accompany me. There is a baron with a homestead over there who will be willing to take them on as indentured servants. Seven years they’ll work to earn their freedom, but it will keep them from the hangman’s noose, which is what you want, is it not?”
Relief poured through me and I nearly sagged like a sail without wind. I did it, I thought. I saved them. I had no idea what that meant, but it was something. “Thank you,” I said, but was surprised by his angry tone.
“Don’t thank me. You’re the one sacrificing yourself for their passage. And to that end, I’ll expect you to spend every night in my bed from now on. I won’t have you rotting in that vile stench any longer.”
His ruthless demand cracked my façade of control like a hammer on glass. I struggled to maintain a straight face. What did I expect? Of course that’s what he would choose, given the freedom to pick “anything he wanted” like I’d said. I’d known what the stakes were going into this, but hearing the words from his lips was something else entirely.
Swallowing the jagged shards of my pride, I replied, “Yes, sir.”
His jaw fell, incredulous. “Yes, sir? Yes, sir?! Oh, for the love of God, woman. It takes every ounce of self-restraint I possess not to take you over my knee this very moment. And well you’d deserve it, too! You pious, beautiful, insufferable creature.” He seized my shoulders and hauled me against his chest, then grabbed a fistful of my hair as his lips crashed down over my own. His kiss was fierce, angry, and boiling with a passion that I couldn’t deny. His presence was like an undertow and I was going under. Hating myself and the uncontrollable pull I felt toward him, I kissed him back just as hard. His tongue demanded entry and I allowed it, helpless to stop him and not wanting to anyway. His free hand slid down my back and cupped my bottom, pulling me closer so there was no mistaking exactly what he had in store for me. A groan escaped from deep within me, though I couldn’t say if it was from agony or desire. My traitorous body reacted to him like gas on a flame.
I didn’t want to want him. But there was no question that I did.
Suddenly, he shoved me away and stood staring at me with wide eyes, the pulse in his neck beating wildly. Panting hard, he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, then muttered something in French that sounded a lot like “God help me.” Then he strode across the room, grabbed his boots, and slammed the door shut behind him.
I stood for a moment, shell shocked by what had just happened. Shaking my head from side to side as though I could deny that he’d kissed me—and that I’d kissed him back—I caught sight of the water pitcher out of the corner of my eye. Aiden was waiting for me to return with the water. Aiden—who would see the telltale signs of deceit and unfaithfulness etched onto my face—was locked in a filthy hole, waiting patiently for me to bring him the most basic of life’s necessities while I was up here getting busy with his arch enemy.
I hated myself.
But I had to! It was the only way to save Aiden and Willie. I tried reasoning as the defense attorney, pleading my case. What else was I supposed to do? Let them die? What kind of wife would I be then?
But the prosecuting attorney on my other shoulder was all over that, a look of utter disgust on her face. What kind of wife are you now? Up here in another man’s bedroom, planning to sleep with him? Besides, aren’t you all already dead? So your “self-sacrifice”–she used air quotes to convey her derision—is worthless.
But I turned the tables on her. You don’t know what matters and what doesn’t. You don’t even know what we’re doing here. You don’t know anything! If you’re so damn smart, what would you do?
And that shut her up. None of us knew what to do next.
All I knew was that I couldn’t go back to Aiden, not yet, not while I was still reeling from Eagan’s kiss. So I limped over to the bed and lay down, allowing the soft mattress to cradle and comfort me. The tears that I’d held at bay for so long finally poured out of me in huge, heaving sobs until I had nothing left. Exhausted and feeling completely lost, I slept.
Chapter 11<
br />
A gentle caress on my shoulder woke me from dreams of cannon fire and cloying, acrid smoke. Disoriented, I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palms as I rolled onto my back in the bed. “Wha—?” I started, but was interrupted by a deep, male voice.
“Shhh...everything is fine,” Eagan said softly, his face partially illuminated by the candle he was holding. “I came to wake you because we’ve arrived.”
“Arrived?” Sitting up, I brushed my bedhead hair out of my face.
“Yes, in England. We must disembark now. I’ve a carriage waiting to take us to my home where you can stay while I complete the paperwork for the commutation. Our ship to the new world will be departing in two days.”
“Wait. Home?” I asked and he nodded. “Where’s Aiden?”
“He’s left the ship already.”
“What?” I cried, bolting from the bed. My ankle immediately started aching, but I gritted my teeth and hustled toward the door. “What have you done with him? Where did you take him?”
Eagan caught up with me in two strides. His touch was no longer gentle. “Stop. You’ll only injure yourself further.”
Yanking my arm out of his grasp, I stared him down. “I don’t care. Take me to Aiden. Now.”
A muscle twitched near his eye as he glowered at me. “I can’t do that. He’ll be held in the prison until we board the day after tomorrow. It’s naught but two nights. He’ll survive.”
“And I’ll survive, right there next to him.”
“You’re coming with me.” A sane person would have been intimidated by the authority in his voice, but I wasn’t deterred.
“The hell I am. I’m not going with you to some ritsy titsy English mansion while Aiden rots in a jail cell.”
“Mansion?” He actually had the gall to laugh. “I’m flattered, but my dwelling could hardly be called thus.”
I poked him in the chest. Hard. “I don’t give a crap what your house looks like. If Aiden’s staying at the prison, then so am I. Our deal—”
“—is that you’ll sleep in my bed from this day forward.”
I crossed my arms and swept a disgusting look over him. “I think you can manage to keep it in your pants two more days until we’re on the boat.”
Eagan’s jaw worked silently like he wanted to call me the filthiest names, and I had a sudden flash of terror that he was going to drag me to the bed right that second. What was I thinking, baiting him that way? But before I could beat myself up for running my mouth, he simply nodded and said, “As you wish, my lady.” Then he opened the door and bent his head slightly, indicating with a sweep of his hand that I should walk through before him. He followed me out and closed the door behind us.
“Callison!” he shouted. The bane of my existence came barreling over to the captain’s side. I shot razor blades at him with my eyes, but he ignored me.
“Yes, cap’n? Something ye needed?”
“Lady MacRae wishes to join her husband,” he said as sweetly as if we were meeting for tea instead of heading into the bowels of a prison.
“She does, does she?” He smiled so wide that I discovered even more gaps in his teeth. “Well, well. ‘Twould be my pleasure, then, to escort the lady.” Callison gave me an elaborate bow that made me want to kick out the few teeth he had left. With an extended arm, he grinned and said, “Shall we?”
There was no way I was playing along with his act, so I folded my arms across my chest and snapped, “Give it a rest. Just move.” Callison mocked me with a hurt expression, his fingers splayed wide across his heart. I leveled a glare at Eagan, only to find his face lined with regret. Unable to deal with that, I tromped off toward the opposite end of the boat where others were disembarking. Eagan said something to Callison behind me, but I couldn’t quite make out the words.
A moveable set of stairs had been pushed up against the ship, leading onto a long, wooden dock that disappeared into the shadows. Heavy fog covered the seaside, making it impossible to see more than a few yards in front of me. I grabbed the railing for support as I made my way down the steps. My legs felt wobbly upon hitting land, like coming off a roller rink and taking off my skates. The world was no longer moving beneath me as it had out at sea, but my head still felt that rocking motion inside. The stench of fish and sweaty dock workers assaulted my nose, adding to the nausea that churned in my gut.
“Good to be home,” Callison said next to me, sucking in a deep breath of the salty air.
The thought of someplace as bleak and ugly as this being ‘home’ only made me more depressed. The realization that I’d never see my home again pierced through my heart, but I was damned and determined not to let Callison see my weakness.
“Figures a place like this would birth something like you,” I said, earning a hearty chuckle from the sailor.
“Merlin’s beard, ye’re the feistiest wench I’ve e’er met! Let’s just see if a couple of nights in the gaol doesn’t cool yer tongue.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me over to where an ornate horse-drawn carriage was waiting. British military insignia—at least that’s what I figured it was, since it looked very official and I hadn’t seen anything like it before—emblazoned the side of the Cinderella-like vehicle. A red-coated man sat in the perch up front, his hands loosely gripping the reins to two beautiful horses. A wave of longing hit me as I thought of the ride I’d taken with Aiden in Between the first time. His uncle’s carriage had whisked us away to a royal ball where we’d danced all night. And now this one was hauling me off to rot in the clink.
Callison didn’t even give me a second to absorb this before he hoisted me up the small flight of steps and shoved me face-first into the carriage. The inside was like a medieval limousine, with two deep red, upholstered cushions facing one another and windows on either side. But instead of glass, the windows were holes in the exterior covered by shades that pinned at the base. The fog followed us in and breathed through the gaps in the fabric of the window coverings. Wishing I had a shawl or something to pull around myself, I scooted as far away from Callison as I could and refused to look at him. When he pounded on the roof, the carriage jerked forward and then we were moving, bumping and rolling over cobblestone streets. I bit my bottom lip tight in an effort to keep it from quivering.
They were taking me to Aiden. That was all that mattered.
It took what felt like a million years to get there so that when the carriage finally skidded to a stop, a jolt of panic shot through me. Callison only grunted, then crawled out the too-small door and dropped to the ground.
“Come on, then! Ye’re the one what wanted to come ‘ere, so dinna make me drag your sorry arse out!” he shouted.
I considered telling him to keep his pants on, then thought better of it, since I didn’t want to put any ideas in his repulsive fat head. So I just grabbed my skirts in one fist and stepped down the stairs, keeping one palm pressed flat against the carriage to steady myself. A gentleman would have offered his hand to help me down, but we both knew my escort was anything but.
Even though I was sure we’d ridden for miles, we had not escaped the fog, which closed in tight like a hand around my throat. Struggling to quell the rising anxiety within me, I followed Callison’s wide frame past a guard at the entry and down a torch-lit, damp hallway. The concrete path turned right, then left, then seemed to double back on itself. He forced me to scramble after him up two flights of stairs, past jail cells whose occupants clung to the bars and shouted sexual invitations to me, and then down more stairs into a dungeon so dank and moist that water literally seeped from the walls.
It finally occurred to me that he was leading me on a wild goose chase so that, if I decided to make a break for it, I wouldn’t know the way out. My ankle was screaming bloody murder and I had reached the outer limits of my patience, so I just stopped and waited for him to notice. A few paces later, he did.
“Given up, have ye?” He turned to look at me, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a self-satisfied grin.
“Y
ou win, okay? I have no freaking clue how to get out of here even if I wanted to, so just take me to Aiden and be done with it. You’ve made your point.”
His face split into a wide smile. “I like tha’. ‘You win.’ Remember ye said that, as I’m fair certain it won’t be the last time.” He grabbed a key ring from his belt and fingered through the keys until he found the one he was looking for, then unlocked a heavy wooden door to the right. It appeared to be a storage closet of some variety that opened from both sides. We stepped over a broom with a broken handle and a mop bucket, then emerged on the other side, where a long line of empty jail cells greeted us.
At least, I thought they were empty until I saw the one all the way down at the end where two hands gripped the bars tightly.
“Who’s there?” Aiden’s voice called from the last cell. “Come and fight me like a man, ye English bastard!” I took off running towards the end of the hallway, but Callison grabbed me from behind.
“Not so fast. Aye, that’s ‘im, but I’ve orders to give ye a cell of your own.”
“What?” I shrieked, struggling to free myself from his iron grip. He pulled out a different key and unlocked the empty cell beside Aiden’s, then flung me inside. The metal doors clanged shut behind me, the reverberation pounding into my skull like a railroad spike.
“No!” I grabbed the bars and tried to shake them. They were cool under my hands—wet, even—but they didn’t budge an inch. “This was not the deal! He promised to take me to Aiden.” I could feel myself starting to come unglued. “I want to see the captain. Bring him down here now.”