Alison DeLaine – A Wedding By Dawn (страница 12)
You’ll not bring shame on this family, India.... The echo of her childhood pooled coldly in her belly. She would not endure that again—she couldn’t. “From the sound of things, it’s too late for that,” she scoffed. Anger flashed dangerously in his eyes. “If you insist on forcing our marriage, I daresay I shall only be adding to Taggart’s shame. What will happen if you cannot pay your debt to Mr. Holliswell?” she taunted.
“Oh, it will be paid,” he said flatly. “It’s merely a question of whether he’ll be paid with the dowry I receive from our marriage or with Taggart itself—and Holliswell will never seat his greasy, self-satisfied arse at the head of Taggart’s table.” He pointed at her. “No matter if I’ve got to drag your pretty behind in front of a priest and have an altar boy move your jaw up and down while reciting the vows in falsetto. This wedding will take place.”
“And you accuse me of shameful behavior.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “For God’s sake—you’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
“Gain?”
“For the price of a few meaningless vows, you’ll have Taggart’s name and you’ll live as any other young woman would be content to live, and in ten years at least some of Society will have forgotten your transgressions. It’s more of a chance at redemption than most ever receive.”
“I don’t need redemption.” She made herself laugh. “But you will, sir, if you do not quickly repent the grave mistake you’re making.”
“Oh, I don’t know that I would call it a mistake,” he said. His shadowed eyes dropped to her breasts, lingering. Her breath hitched, and her sensitive peaks came alive with fresh, unwanted desire. “Especially if I am to find such pleasure at my fingertips,” he added huskily.
A heady yearning curled inside her. She never should have allowed him to touch her. But it was too late to take it back now, and it was too clear that he may not have wished to marry her—but he did want something else.
She forced her feet to move and went to the door. “Good night, Mr. Warre.” The ship banked with a large wave, and she turned, smiling back at him. “Do sleep well.”
INDIA LET HERSELF into the passageway and crept back to her cabin, trying to ignore that her body hummed with the lingering effects of Nicholas Warre’s touch.
Gain. He thought she would gain from marrying him, when he’d made his expectations perfectly clear.
Oh, God. She stopped, suddenly, in the middle of the passageway. Leaned against the wall outside her cabin, taking a moment to compose herself, aware of her breasts in a way she had never been before—but even more aware of the things he’d said, and the fact that she could never, ever allow this marriage to take place.
She knew all about the things a man would do to avoid being shamed.
Your hoydenish tricks...that was how he saw her. He did not see her accomplishments, her skills. He was already ashamed to take her to wife—just as Father had been ashamed when she’d returned to London and locked her up in her apartments.
Only imagine how Nicholas Warre would treat her if he discovered her biggest failing. Except she didn’t need to imagine, because she had an entire childhood of memories to draw on.
You may redeem yourself, India—and have your dinner, as well—the moment you decide to apply your efforts and read me these stanzas from Pope. It hadn’t mattered to Father that applying her efforts had never done any good.
It wouldn’t matter to Nicholas Warre, either. When he learned she couldn’t read, he would try to force her just as Father had, and withhold every pleasure from her, and it wouldn’t work because no matter how hard she tried it never worked. And he would prevent her shaming Taggart by keeping her hidden away, and Taggart would become her prison, just as surely as her childhood rooms had been.
Her stomach twisted. She needed to do something now—tonight. But the only person who could possibly save her now was William.
Yes. Yes—she could talk to William. Tell him everything—make him see how imperative it was that she be in charge of her own destiny. She would promise anything in exchange for his forgiveness. Then perhaps he would let her and Millie join his crew, and then they would have protection instead of needing to make their way alone. And it would be just like before when they’d sailed with Katherine—
“India!” Millie’s voice hissed through the darkened passageway.
India turned. “Millie?”
Millie hurried from the darkness and grabbed India’s arm. “Come—come quickly!”
“What’s happened?”
Millie didn’t answer. India practically ran after her down the corridor to William’s cabin, through the door, and—
Oh, God. “What have you done?”
“I don’t know—I don’t know!”
India fell to William’s side, where he lay motionless on the floor.
“It isn’t as bad as it looks—”
“How can it not be as bad as it looks?” Oh, God. Oh, God. India shook him.
“No! Don’t try to rouse him!”
“We have to!” She listened for breath—yes! He was breathing.
“No, we don’t.” Millie grabbed her arm and tried to pull India to her feet. “India, this could be our opportunity. I didn’t mean to do it—I didn’t—but we won’t escape any other way...you know we won’t. And even if we do, what then? But if we take this ship back to Malta now, we can retake the Possession—”
“We can’t return to Malta. When William’s crew finds him like this, we’ll be killed.” She felt behind William’s head, encountered a bump wet with warm blood. Pain fisted in her stomach. “Mutiny? How could you? He’ll kill us himself when he awakes!”
“Not if we lock him in here.”
“We can’t do that! Not to William!”
“Have you forgotten he came here on Katherine’s orders?”
“You know bloody well the crew will never accept our leadership.”
“Did you not hear their complaints as we boarded? These men are not loyal to William. They were hired two months ago. They thought they would be a week at Malta, but instead they’re back at sea after only a day. Believe me, the promise of returning to Malta will have them in the palm of our hands. But in case it doesn’t...”
She held out a pistol, shot and powder.
The metal glinted in the moonlight through the windows of William’s cabin. India looked at the pistol. At Millie.
“I can’t do this. Millie, you should have told me first.”
“It wasn’t something I planned!”
“We’ll be pirates. Real pirates.”
Millie’s hands were trembling. She quickly set the pistol and shot on a chair. “He’s come to no real harm.”
“Aye,” India said sarcastically, “That is precisely the definition of piracy. As long as nobody comes to harm—”
“We shan’t be stealing William’s ship.” Millie sounded terrifyingly determined. “We shall merely divert it back to Malta and then return it.”
“If we return to Malta with William and Nicholas Warre aboard, there will be no way to keep them secured until we make our escape. We’ll be apprehended before we can weigh anchor out of Valletta.”
“Then we shall leave them off somewhere before Malta.”
India’s breathing turned shallow. Leaving them off was different from keeping them safely aboard.
“What are we going to do when William awakes?” India asked.
“There are things I can give him to keep him calm—”
“Millie, we can’t do that.”
“Do you have a better solution?”
Yes. They could wake William and beg for his mercy. But even William had limits, and they had already exceeded those limits by taking the Possession from Katherine.
Now there was no turning back.
Millie hurried to dress William’s wound while India held his head with shaky hands. “Is there any chance he would wake up and think he fell and hit his head?” India asked.
Millie answered with a look.
“You confronted him?”
“I went to ask him a question.”
“And knocked him unconscious?”
“I didn’t care for his answer! Hold his head higher.”
William’s slackened features were terrifying. “What if he dies? How can you be certain he won’t die?”
“Stop asking questions and help me put a pillow beneath his head!”