The Road to Ruin

by Bronwyn Stuart

  “You’re nothing but a hopeless romantic,” James said incredulously at the same time Hobson muttered, “Addled, the lot of ya.”

  “I saved both your hides today. Daniella, your father might now hear you out before he cleaves your husband in half. Lasterton, you have the chance to decide if your precious items are as precious as your new wife. I have cleared the muddy waters. You can thank me later.”

  *

  Daniella couldn’t breathe. Her chest grew tight and her stomach threatened to rebel as her heart clamoured in her ears to the tune of her rushing blood. It was one thing to have entered a makeshift marriage to get herself home and assuage James’s infernal honour; it was a different matter when none of it needed to have happened at all. “You tricked me.”

  “You were enamoured of him anyway. I merely expedited proceedings.”

  “Expedited proceedings?” she repeated, fury giving way to a shocking numbness.

  James twisted her on his lap to gain her attention. “Pay him no mind. What’s happened has happened and we’ll deal with it after we meet with your father.”

  “This all worked out very well for you, my lord.” At the correct salutation, he frowned. She went on. “Now you get to save my reputation and your precious items, forever the hero.”

  “Daniella.” His voice held warning but she ignored it.

  “Is this how your grand plan was to have worked out all along?”

  “It bloody well is not.”

  Hobson spoke up then but they weren’t words she wanted or needed to hear. “The major wanted nothing to do with forcing you to marriage, lass. Nothing to do with it at all.”

  James cleared his throat. “That’s enough, Lieutenant. You’re not helping.”

  “Now I have nothing.” Not her freedom. Not her ship. Not even her independence. Once again the men around her held all the power while she was thrown back in a cage.

  “You have me,” James told her quietly.

  Her answering nod was slow to come but her heart was no longer in it. For months she had dreamed of having her own life and making her own decisions. She had thought this Scottish marriage as easy to walk away from as her London life, but James obviously had very different ideas.

  If she couldn’t make this right, all she had left was a bottomless crevasse of nothing and a bleak future without choices. Should she have stayed in London, married an old man and waited for him to stick his spoon in the wall so she could sail off with his money? James certainly was not going to turn up his toes anytime soon.

  And what of James? How long would it be until he resented her for all of this? He’d told her he needed a wife as pure as snow. If he took her back to London as his bride what would happen to his reputation? And to Amelia’s, if it survived her time on The Aurora?

  Her dark musings took them all the way into town, where Darius’s coachman pulled into an inn yard and brought the horses to a stop.

  “This is where our time together ends, I’m afraid.” Darius still wore that smug look of triumph and, before anyone could stop her, she launched herself at him again, this time connecting her fist with his nose. She might not be very big or as strong as James, but she knew how to hit a man to make it hurt. He yowled with pain and doubled over, blood dripping through his fingers to fall on his boots.

  “If you ever come near me or The Aurora, I will not ask questions. I will not invite you aboard for a drink or to discuss the weather. I will shoot you where you stand and then dance on your grave under the moonlight, you arrogant ass.”

  “Well said, my dear,” James added and then switched his attention back to Darius. “You’re lucky she got you first. I can’t hit a man already bleeding but we’d better not see you again in the near future or the ball that finds your chest may not be my wife’s.”

  Darius raised one hand in a gesture of compliance, the other still on his nose, and then opened the carriage door. “Give my regards to the captain.”

  Daniella curled her fingers back into fists but James was already pushing her out the door ahead of him. “Just go, Daniella. He’s not worth any more of your pique.”

  “Bullshit,” she muttered. “I should have kicked him in the—”

  “Daniella,” he scolded as he fought laughter. “You’re a proper lady now. You can’t say things like that.”

  She stopped in her tracks causing Patrick to linger in the doorway of the carriage. “Don’t think because he made us marry that you own me or can give me orders. If I want to say words like bullshit and talk about bodily harm, I will.”

  His nostrils flared and she felt a spark of the fight ignite back to life inside of her. Damn him, she would fight this. She would fight him.

  All traces of humour fled and he took her by the elbow to propel her farther towards the shelter of the inn. “You are my wife now and don’t think you can force me to throw you out using lewd behaviour. I’ll lock you in a room before I let you shame yourself again.”

  “You could try it,” she said, wrenching her arm from his firm grip. Even now as they argued, his touch ignited more than a fight and heat pooled in her belly. Shame, not over her external reactions but over her unwanted internal reactions, washed through her to burn her cheeks. “I’ll do whatever I must to be free.”

  “I don’t doubt that.” His reply was heavily laced but was that sadness weighting his tone? “But I will do whatever I must to keep you safe.” He came closer and cupped her face in his hands so she almost drowned in his nearness.

  Under the inn’s wide veranda, he kissed her. Long and slow and delicious. Once again thought fled and she responded in a way no decent lady ever would. Until Hobson cleared his throat behind James, who reluctantly broke contact. Or was it her reluctance that was most keenly obvious between them?

  “We should probably get inside before we attract too much attention,” Hobson suggested, always level-headed.

  Daniella licked lips that tasted of him and blinked a few times to clear the haze from her vision. How did he always manage to both take her wits away and make her want to hurl fire all at the same time?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  For the first time in more than a decade James felt whole.

  He’d have given his life for his country, but as he stared into moss-green eyes swimming with moisture, he was glad he hadn’t. When she licked her lips and had to consciously regain her wits, the beast inside him roared. This was purpose. This was a cause worthy of his last breath. And if it came down to it, she could have it. She could have anything she wanted if it would only erase the sadness from her gaze.

  For three of the longest hours in his entire life James had been forced to sit next to a very despondent Daniella. He couldn’t comfort her or talk to her or tease her out of it in the confined carriage in front of three other men. It had nearly killed him. For a moment he’d even willed back the battlefield numbness. He’d wanted to tell her he hadn’t tricked her—that he hadn’t taken her freedom. He would repeat it over and over until she believed him.

  “I will get us a room and then we must talk. Agreed?” He waited for what felt like eons but then she nodded and turned away. Lead fell to the pit of his stomach and he almost tasted defeat. Almost.

  “Hobson, try and follow the carriage and see if Darius makes contact with Germaine. I want to know where he is before he learns of our presence. If you do find him, set up a meeting for tomorrow, one o’clock in a town square or marketplace. Somewhere public.”

  As he spoke, he watched for any reaction from Daniella but she had already disappeared into the main entrance of the inn. Her spine may have straightened slightly but he couldn’t be sure.

  Convincing the innkeeper they weren’t vagabonds took some effort and in the end James had to hand over his heavy signet ring to secure their lodgings and meals. “I will be coming back for that,” James assured him with just the right amount of menace. “If you fence it, you’d better be a crack shot on the fields.”

  The man swallowed but nodded
before setting his wife to the task of taking them upstairs. He and Daniella had a room at the top of the long, steep stair, Patrick and Hobson right next door.

  “The lady might like a bath sent up,” he said to the mistress of the house.

  She shook her head. “Not up those steps, milord. There’s a bathing house out back with hot water on the flame all day and night and a tub big enough to swim in if you’ve a mind to it.”

  “That will be more than adequate, thank you,” Daniella said, before squeezing the lady’s hands in hers and thanking her for a fine room.

  James had seen much better but at least it was clean and warm. He eyed the bed and longed to lie down and close his eyes for a few hours. But there were things to do that could not wait. Seeing to Daniella’s comfort topped the list.

  “Would you like to rest first or bathe?” He wanted to say so much more but he couldn’t seem to find the words or the strength. Her despondence should have fired him into action but he found it contagious.

  “You needn’t mollycoddle me,” she said, turning her back to peer through the window. Did she search for her father or a way to be rid of her husband?

  “Let me be the gentleman, please. As much as you mightn’t wish it, I care for you and for your comfort.”

  Her head dropped slightly and he thought he heard a betraying sniff but then her back stiffened and she spoke. “Bathe first and then rest. Hopefully Hobson will find my father and we can resolve our situation. I should like to at least be clean before then.”

  Resolve our situation. Why did she make it sound so final and so impersonal?

  He’d found his other half. She would never bore him nor he her. Life would be a constant challenge of wills but he looked forward to it. He looked forward to a lifetime with her.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He must have worn his need as a mantle and she’d glimpsed it. He shook his head. No good would come of blackmailing her with his desire. It would be best if she chose him of her own accord. “Nothing. Come, let’s get cleaned up. We can talk over supper.”

  *

  Daniella didn’t want to do anything with James. She wanted to be left alone to wallow in misery. To contemplate her undoing and scheme a way out. She may not have had easy or clear choices in London but she did here. Her father was near and he would protect her. Right after he horsewhipped her for her actions to date.

  She groaned.

  “Did you say something?” James stopped on the stair. He was a stranger to her. No longer did he place his hand in the small of her back to guide her. He walked ahead. He didn’t look at her as though she were his next meal. He barely looked at her at all. She supposed it was better that way. When the time came to say their goodbyes, it would be easier. If she was still there to say a goodbye.

  The cleanest way to cut ties would be to simply disappear. James had left plenty of opportunities for escape open but she had needed to stay with him then.

  As soon as she learned her father’s whereabouts, she would climb out the window and be gone. It was the only way. They could forget being married, she was sure their witnesses weren’t about to admit anything anyway, and each go their own ways. She would set Amelia and her mother free and send them back to him before he even knew she was gone. He would get what he wanted and be done with her. Then she would cut the ropes anchoring The Aurora and set a course for China, or the Americas. She would find the exact opposite side of the world from England and make it her home. She would exchange her Jolly Roger for a merchant letter and travel distant coastlines plying legitimate cargo.

  It was a heady dream but she didn’t feel it in her heart or her head. She was exhausted to the point where her head hurt and it was an effort to put one foot in front of the other. Her one constant, unhelpful thought now was that she didn’t want to be alone.

  She followed James to a sturdy wooden structure behind the inn on the edge of a dense forest. Daniella would have said it looked more like a hunter’s cabin but the inside was mostly occupied by an enormous tub. She didn’t have the strength to study how it all worked and since it was already full of steaming water, she didn’t care much either.

  “I’ll be fine now,” she said to James as he was closing the door and barring it. “You don’t have to stay with me.”

  “I have no other pressing engagements right now.” He grinned and she tried to grin back with a matching nonchalance. Hot moisture burned her eyelids but she willed it away. Here was neither the time nor the place to shed tears.

  “I won’t escape.”

  “I know. You gave me your word and I trust you.”

  That caught her attention. “You do?”

  “Of course I do. Would I have tied myself to you otherwise?”

  “I’m not really sure of anything anymore.”

  “You’re not sure of me?”

  When she didn’t answer straight away, he gestured for her to turn so he could work on the buttons of her gown.

  “We have a connection, you and I.” His fingers worked but he was in no hurry as he lowered his voice and spoke only to her and not at her. “Since the moment I kidnapped you we have been on this path together. It may have felt as though we were at odds but we always wanted the same things. Freedom and family.”

  “And now we’ve both lost our freedom.”

  “I don’t see it that way. I’m hurt that you do.”

  When the gown sagged, she turned back to face him. His eyes were so full of regret she nearly took back her words. “How did you think it was ever going to work?”

  “Why did you say the words if you were never fully committed?”

  Wrenching her gaze from his, she paced to the tub and lost herself in her reflection on the surface. Her hair was a mess, her face dirty and her appearance more that of a beggar woman than a lady. “I suppose I got carried away. You made it all sound so easy.”

  “What changed then? Darius? What he said about pushing us together?”

  When she didn’t reply he came to stand at her back and she longed to melt into him. Just this last time to share something beautiful before he too realized their folly and walked away.

  “Nothing has changed for me since this morning, Daniella.”

  Everything had changed for her. Before this week she’d discarded notions of love in favour of sailing the seas. She’d never considered herself wife material and therefore never considered having a husband. When no offers for her hand reached her brother, she’d steeled her resolve to be independent. To lean on her crew and her family rather than chase fantasies and emotion.

  The promise she’d made to be his wife hadn’t precisely been forced from her mouth but the proximity of his body and his own promise of pleasure urged her to make concessions. Thinking back, she’d had a condition of her own but when he kissed her all rational thought fled her mind.

  Her only truly happy moments from the past days had been in his arms. Nothing else could touch her while he was—not even the prospect of a life on her beloved ship. It was the part she would miss the most when they separated.

  She didn’t want to think or speak anymore. Sliding the gown down her arms, she stepped from the fabric. Without breaking eye contact, she loosened the ties of her breeches and pushed them all the way down and off her feet.

  His intake of breath was his only movement. It was almost as though he dared not move lest the moment slip away.

  “Say something,” she urged him. His stillness was a worry.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  A reluctant smile tilted her lips. “I’m a mess.”

  “A beautiful mess.” He stepped towards her. She didn’t stop him.

  Their lips met but this time there was no rush, no urgency or frenzied coupling. Daniella pressed her body to his and with a groan he wrapped his arms around her back and held her close.

  As she’d desperately hoped it would, the world around her ceased to exist. It was just her and James and the exquisite pull he managed to provoke wit
h a mere kiss. Though this was no mere kiss. Right down to her toes she felt his passion, his promise, his heart and soul. If only they were enough.

  When his fingers skated up her hips beneath the chemise, she shivered. That fluttering feeling once again took over her insides and when she breathed deep, she inhaled his masculine scent mingled with the smell of fresh water and cut wood.

  “Touch me,” she whispered as he feathered kisses over her jaw and down her neck.

  “Not yet, love.” When he pulled back, he gripped her hem and raised it over her head, leaving her completely naked and thoroughly dishevelled. “You’ll catch your death.”

  “I’m not cold at all.”

  His gaze dropped to her pebbled nipples and Daniella finally found the strength to smile in earnest. There was that hungry look. He’d admitted once that she was his weakness. Perhaps now was the time to take advantage?

  “I’ll just check the temperature is right.”

  He gulped. She smiled again and gave him her back. Bending at the waist, she dipped a hand in the heavenly water, swishing it back and forth. When next she looked over her shoulder, he was almost undressed, only his boots and breeches in his way, his jerky movements frantic.

  With a giggle at odds with her earlier melancholy—how did he do that?—she climbed into the water and sank back against the tub, the water up to her shoulders. She sank farther, getting her whole bedraggled head under the surface. If there was a heaven waiting for her, this was it. James loomed over the side of the tub and she sat back up to look at him.

  “Move forwards, love.” He used the endearment now as though he might actually mean it.

  She did his bidding and he slid behind her, water sloshing over the edges in every direction.

  “You’re going to make a mess.”

  “Do you care?” he asked.

  She shook her head and leaned back, guiding his arms around her.

  At first his embrace was calming and safe but as he traced lazy circles on the skin over her ribs, closer and closer to her breasts, she felt less calm and a lot more of the pull.