Duke of Thorns (Heiress Games 1)

by Sara Ramsey

  Thorington shrugged. “As you wish. Why are you in the neighborhood again?”

  “I heard there was to be a party at Maidenstone today. I thought I might attend.”

  If someone like Thorington or the men of his acquaintance had said that, it would have sounded like a dire threat. But there was something too indecisive about Hallett’s eyes, too weak about his voice. He had already proven that he was the type who would hesitate over firing his guns until all was lost — or fire too soon and miss his chance.

  So Thorington went in for the kill. “I shall be brief. You will leave the neighborhood immediately. You will never speak to Miss Briarley again. And if you speak of her to anyone, I shall destroy you.”

  He’d kept his voice cool, almost pleasant. Next to him, Ferguson silently applauded.

  Hallett clenched his hands on the back of the chair he’d refused. “She ruined me. She owes me what she cost me. I want revenge against Jacobs so that the Navy will take me back.”

  “I doubt it,” Thorington said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I think you’d far rather have a soft life on land, if you had the money for it. And anyway, I heard it was your incompetence that cost you your ship. If you’d been as good at sailing as you are at writing letters to the Gazette, you might have stopped the Scourge of the Caribbean before he captured anything.”

  “Did that bitch say it was my fault?” Hallett said.

  Thorington started to stand. Salford put a hand on his shoulder. “Manners, Captain Hallett,” Salford chided as Thorington sat again. “If we allow Thorington to kill you, as he so wants to do, Ferguson and I will have to support him at the inquest. None of us want that, do we?”

  Hallett paled. The implication was obvious — if he was killed, there was a chance that two dukes and an earl could bury the crime before his body was even cold. But he was still too angry about his disgrace to behave rationally. “Did your fiancée say it was my fault?” he spat out.

  “She knows her business on the sea,” Thorington said. “If she told me you were incompetent, I would believe it.”

  She hadn’t told him that — he’d heard it when he’d received news of Crescendo’s loss, and had it confirmed by his messenger. But there was a part of him that wanted Hallett to attack. The idea of planting his fist in Hallett’s face was appealing.

  Hallett dropped his hands from the back of the chair, then clenched them again. “I won’t have a traitor telling tales about me,” he said. “Better for me if everyone hears my side of the story before she says anything.”

  “Better for you to keep your mouth shut,” Thorington said. “My wife will not stoop to speak of you at all.”

  “But I’m ruined,” Hallett whined. “I will never have another ship. My brother will inherit my father’s estate. I’ve got nothing.”

  Ferguson yawned. “This is tiresome. Pay him off, Thorington, so we may go back to our beds.”

  Thorington didn’t have the money to pay Hallett off, and Ferguson knew it.

  But Hallett’s eyes lit up. He was willing to strike a deal. “Twenty thousand pounds and you’ll never hear from me again.”

  It was an exorbitant sum. In the past, when he could afford to be careless, Thorington would have given it to him without blinking just to rid himself of the annoyance.

  Today, though, when he most needed the money to save Callie’s future, he couldn’t do it.

  He rolled his eyes, hoping Hallett didn’t sense his hesitation. “I’ll see it done for cheaper. Twenty thousand pounds would be better spent bribing your father to look the other way while I kill you.”

  “And how would your father feel if he knew that his son wanted to marry a pirate? What if your firstborn isn’t yours, but belongs to the Scourge…”

  He cut himself off when Thorington surged to his feet. Salford didn’t stop him this time, but Thorington stayed behind the desk, still marginally in control of his temper. “Ten thousand pounds, and you can be grateful that I haven’t rearranged your face,” he said. “And if you break our agreement and talk to the press, I will win a libel judgment against you so large that you’ll be transported for your debts.”

  “Ten thousand pounds and Lucretia Briarley,” Hallett said, all bravado. “And her share of Maidenstone.”

  “That’s not a deal I can make,” Thorington said.

  Ferguson examined his cuffs. “I can’t abide the thought of being related to you, Hallett. Nor can Lucretia, I would guess, since she told me you were here.”

  Hallett deflated. “Briarleys,” he muttered, disgusted. “Faithless creatures.”

  Thorington leaned over the desk. “I tire of you, Hallett. Take the promise of ten thousand pounds and leave now. Or you can stay and let me practice my boxing. Your choice.”

  He knew when the man was defeated. Hallett’s eyes flickered over the three of them, looking for any support at all, but Salford and Ferguson wouldn’t abandon Thorington’s cause. Hallett’s shoulders slumped.

  “Ten thousand pounds,” he said. “I need it immediately.”

  Thorington’s mouth soured. He knew what he would have to do.

  But he nodded. “Give me your bank’s direction and I will transfer the funds.”

  “I would wish you happy, but I don’t mean it and you won’t be anyway,” Hallett said, his voice small and nasty in his defeat.

  Thorington pointed at the door. “The feeling is mutual. Go before I change my mind.”

  He waited until Hallett was gone, then turned to Salford. “Does your offer of a loan still stand?”

  Salford exhaled. “Well done with Hallett. I shall loan you the money for as long as you need it.”

  “It may take a few years to pay you back,” Thorington said slowly. He didn’t want to say it aloud because it would make it real, but he was honor-bound to tell the truth about this. “I plan to rebuild my fortunes, but it will take time. It may not even be possible now, with my luck.”

  “You’ll have your ships back when you marry Callie,” Ferguson said.

  “Those are hers,” he said. “And they shall remain hers.”

  “I was entirely misled about your character,” Ferguson complained again.

  Salford contemplated him soberly. “Your luck may surprise you.”

  “I doubt it,” Thorington said with a short, bitter laugh.

  “Do you have a pair of scales at home?” Salford asked.

  “Of course.”

  “And when you put all the weight in one pan, what happens when you remove it suddenly?”

  Thorington pictured the wild swing as the scales rebalanced. “What are you saying?”

  “We have no way of knowing, of course,” Salford said. “I don’t think anyone has been in precisely our situation before. But your current luck may be an overcorrection of your previous luck. When it evens out, I suspect you’ll be back to the same luck as everyone else.”

  It was an interesting theory. Plausible, even. And he hoped Salford was right.

  Ultimately, though, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was whether he could give Callie the life she deserved.

  His doubts suddenly fell away. He knew the answer to that question. It had nothing to do with his fortune, and everything to do with the heart she’d rescued.

  He just had to convince her of it.

  He opened one of the drawers, digging out ink and paper. Then he scrawled a note, sealed it, and handed it to Salford. “Do me another favor, if you will, and make sure Callie gets this. Ask one of my sisters to deliver it — she’s more likely to trust them than either of you.”

  “Where are you going?” Salford asked.

  Thorington smiled. “I’m going to make my own luck.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Callie stopped on the very edge of the circle around the Maidenstone. She left her horse where it was, knowing there was no point in trying to coax it out of the trees. Thorington wasn’t in sight, but she trusted he would find her there.

  For the moment, th
e circle was hers and hers alone. She looked down at her toes. Her boots just barely touched the manicured grass. Had it only been a week since she’d been here for the first time?

  It felt like a month. She stepped into the circle.

  The grass, the sun, and the stone were the same as before. The Maidenstone clearing was completely at peace — an ancient sort of peace, unconcerned with whatever momentary problems Callie struggled with. The stone had seen any number of Briarleys come there, either for guidance or penance.

  No one would carry the Briarley name after her generation. All lines ended, eventually, and the Briarleys had survived longer than they might have. Did the Maidenstone sense that she was one of the last?

  She scoffed at her own superstition, but her scoffing was half-hearted. She walked to the stone and traced her hand over the family motto again.

  Briarley contra mundum. It felt like those words had been engraved on her heart at birth. Tiberius had whispered them to her often enough.

  But maybe she didn’t want the motto of her ancestors to control her future.

  She wished, almost bitterly, that everything had been different. That she had met Thorington somewhere else — somewhere bright and cheerful, where the weight of history didn’t press down upon them. That she hadn’t been an heiress, and he hadn’t been a duke.

  It wouldn’t have mattered. No matter where she’d met him, or how, she would have fallen in love with him.

  If things had been different, though, perhaps she would have known how to survive the fall.

  Something cracked in the undergrowth. She smiled — the same sudden, unbidden smile that his note had drawn from her. The stone was just a stone again. The Briarley motto was a legend, not her fate.

  And her heart knew what it wanted.

  She turned. Thorington leaned against a tree, watching her.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” he said.

  They were the same words he’d spoken to her when they’d first met in the clearing. Her smile widened. “You startled me, sirrah.”

  He unfolded himself from his position. This time, he didn’t stay on the edge of the clearing. He walked directly into the sunlight. She enjoyed watching him — took pleasure from the curve of his lips, the angle of his jaw, the perfect control of his stride.

  He reached her before she’d looked her fill. Her breath caught in her throat as he kissed her hand. The sunlight turned his green eyes into something almost eerie.

  “I have better manners than to converse with a stranger in the woods,” she whispered, giving him the line she had used before.

  But this time, he deviated from their original path. He smiled tentatively. “You may call me Gavin, if you like.”

  “Gavin,” she said. Her smile widened. “My name is Callie.”

  “Callie,” he repeated. He kissed her knuckles again. “An infinite pleasure to meet you.”

  Her Briarley heart burst.

  “You aren’t a fortune-hunter, are you?” she teased. “I’ve heard Maidenstone Abbey is rotten with them.”

  He laughed. “No. Although I should be. I must warn you, Callie — I am not as rich as I once was.”

  “I am richer than I’ve ever been,” she said. “You may find a way to reclaim your lost fortune in these woods.”

  She meant it — she meant all of it. But his grip tightened and a bit of shadow returned to his eyes. “I am not marrying you to get my ships back from you. You know that, don’t you?”

  Callie sighed. “Please don’t talk about ships. Can you be Gavin for another moment?”

  The shadows deepened. He took a breath.

  “Callie,” he said. “You must know — I don’t accept anymore.”

  There was a roaring in her ears as her smile fell away. “What?”

  “I don’t accept what you offered. I don’t accept a marriage of convenience.”

  He took another breath, one that cut into her stomach and twisted against her spine.

  Then he dropped to his knees.

  She stared down at him, uncomprehending. “Do you…do you not want me?” she whispered.

  “You know better,” he said. “Surely you know.” His voice was strong, resolute — there was no hesitation in him, but no shadows either. “I love you, Callie. I don’t think I knew what that word meant until I met you. And, selfish bastard that I am, I want more. I want everything. I want all of you. I want to grow old with you — you, Callie, not the vessel who bears my children or the woman who feels she must live without me. I want to give you everything you deserve. I want your soul and mine to be so bound to each other that we’ll stay together through any eternity after.”

  He still held her hand, but his touch turned reverential. “Release me from my vow. Please. I cannot accept what you offered when you — and I — deserve all of this.”

  His face blurred in front of her before she realized her eyes were filling with tears. She dashed them away with her free hand, but they kept coming. She laughed, suddenly — a fey, wild laugh, as though the devil had caught her in the clearing and proven he was an angel instead.

  “I release you,” she said.

  Gavin smiled. “You don’t have to release me for long. Will you do me the incredible honor of marrying me?”

  She dashed the tears aside again. “I accept,” she said. “Gavin, I accept.”

  He pulled her down into his arms. She laughed as she fell — laughed again as she realized she would survive the fall, and anything else, as long as he was with her.

  He kissed her, slow and sweet. Kissing led to more — scandalously more, but she thought the Maidenstone might enjoy witnessing love instead of bloodshed. He was slow, and patient, and completely ruthless in his attempt to wring every last bit of pleasure from her.

  After, when she had recovered her breath, she tilted her head to smile at him. He lay beside her, so close that his face was only inches from hers. Under the sun, nourished by their love, her heart took root in his.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “More than I ever dreamed.”

  “I love you,” he said. “Beyond any wish I ever had.”

  There would be days when he was a duke. There would be days when she was a privateer. There would be days when they argued, when the household went sideways, when the children misbehaved and supper was burned and her nerves were frayed and his temper was lost.

  But beneath it all, they were Callie and Gavin. And they were better together than they would ever be apart.

  * * *

  The messenger returned with the marriage license just as they reached Maidenstone Abbey. He also returned with something entirely unexpected.

  “Your grace,” he said. “Your business manager in London sent an urgent message.”

  Thorington took the license and shoved the other letter back into the messenger’s hands. “Leave it in my room. I don’t want another tale of woe today.”

  The messenger shoved it back. He flushed as Thorington raised an eyebrow, but he held his ground. “Your grace. Read it, if you please.”

  Thorington opened the note. Callie watched as his eyebrows rose again — this time involuntarily. “It can’t be,” he said.

  His servant nodded, too excited to observe propriety. “The news is all over London, your grace.”

  “What is it?” Callie asked.

  “My Asian fleet,” Thorington said. “It arrived safely in London with full cargoes.”

  He sounded dazed. Callie, emboldened, touched his back. “Your luck isn’t so bad after all.”

  He laughed, still sounding disbelieving. “It is bad. But I’ll take this as a good sign.”

  Then he grabbed her and kissed her again.

  He repeated that kiss two hours later, when they said their vows in Maidenstone’s chapel. She had thought that saying vows would make her feel trapped. But these vows, and the light in Gavin’s eyes, made her feel safe — a foundation upon which they could build anything together.

  After, they accepted congratu
lations from the other houseguests. Thorington’s siblings were united in their pleasure. “We are delighted, Callie,” Portia effused. “Delighted.”

  “Thorington needed someone to bring him to his knees,” Serena said cheerfully.

  Anthony embraced her, then Thorington, as though they’d captained a winning scull at Eton rather than making wedding vows. “If Thorington needs training in how to whisper sweet nothings to you, send him to me.”

  Thorington scowled, but Callie laughed. “I shall take my chances with him as he is.”

  That earned her another quick kiss. “I do not know that I will survive through dinner without forcing you to come away with me,” Thorington murmured.

  “I promise not to scream if you steal me — until you make me, that is.”

  “My saucy colonial,” he said, trailing his fingers lower over her back, then grazing inappropriately over her derriere.

  She suddenly, desperately, wanted him to take her away.

  But there were more well-wishers to accept greetings from. Rafe, more circumspect than his siblings, merely kissed her hand and clapped Thorington on the back. He left, abruptly, as Octavia joined them.

  “Felicitations again, cousin,” Ava said as she kissed Callie’s cheeks. “You may not have won Maidenstone Abbey, but Lucretia will be dismayed when she sees you’ve made a love match.”

  It wasn’t charitable of Ava to say that. And Callie remembered it when Lucretia came to congratulate her after Octavia melted into the crowd.

  “I wish you very happy,” Lucretia said stiffly, encompassing both Callie and Thorington in her statement. “And I hope you shall forgive me for inviting Captain Hallett to the ball.”

  Thorington nodded. “I thank you for telling Ferguson of his whereabouts.”

  Thorington had told Callie of the deal he’d made with Hallett as they were riding back to the abbey. Callie smiled at her cousin. She still felt tentative, but her heart was so open and eager with Thorington’s love that she, like an addict, wanted to seek the same goodwill from others. “All is forgiven. I would have lost Maidenstone even if you hadn’t brought Hallett here, thanks to Thorington.”