The Last Broken Promise

by Grace Walton

  “Get below and stay there, Jess,” he ordered.

  “You will not hurt Griffin,” she demanded.

  “No love, I will not harm your brother. Now go.” He gave her a gentle shove towards the stairs.

  Jess started to do as he’d asked. But then she realized what he meant to do. Finn turned to face her raging brother. He opened his arms wide as if to invite a merciful death. There was even a small satisfied smile upon his lips.

  “No!” she shrieked. She jumped upon his back. She jerked at the fabric of his coat. She might as well have been an annoying insect for all the good it did her.

  The man didn’t even slow down. He gently shrugged her off and kept advancing on Griffin. There was a hard, cruel look upon her youngest brother’s face. She’d never seen it before. Part of her hoped to never see it again. She did admit that look gave some credence to Finn’s assertion that her sibling was a killer.

  Within a few minutes all her brothers eased down the rope to stand on the rolling deck. That was odd, Jess told herself. Her brothers seldom traveled together. At the moment, they looked like a pack of wolves sizing up their collective prey. She didn’t like the menacing way they all stared at Finn McLeod.

  Of course she could quite easily watch the dratted man all day long. He was especially appealing as he stood there like a sentinel in the wind of the gathering storm. His long black hair whipped about his head like a seductive whirlwind. The small hoop piercing his left ear caught a stray shaft of weak sunlight. It sparkled a rich, dull gold. His coat had been ripped open by the rising tempest. The same storm flattened his billowing white shirt against the taut, muscled slabs of his chest. Jess thought him magnificent.

  He was magnificent, it was true. But he must also be harboring a death wish. For he stood there in a pose of surrender before her obviously incensed kinsmen. She had to save him.

  “This is not what it appears,” she explained.

  She hurried around to stand in front of McLeod. That one small protective gesture most likely saved the man’s life. Or so she told herself.

  “Hello Jess,” Dylan said with a remarkable amount of good cheer.

  That in itself was suspicious. Her oldest brother, the Duke of MacAllister was not known for his sunny disposition. He was the most level-headed of the three brothers. But he was also the most cold-blooded. Heartless St. John, he’d been named. He’d been called that partly because of their shared birthmark. But mostly it was due to his Arctic nature. Rory, his wife, had done much to alleviate the darkness and loneliness of Dylan’s life. But even on his best days, he was not a congenial sort.

  “Jess.” Connor nodded his blonde, shaggy head in a brief acknowledgement.

  He was dressed, as usual, in an Indian’s buckskins. He favored the native mode of dress, unless he was forced to engage in polite society. He was the shortest of her brothers. At a scant six feet in height, he was also the fittest. Long ropes of lean muscle moved under his leather shirt and pants. He was stealthy and dangerous like a swamp cougar.

  Her last remaining brother, Griffin, didn’t acknowledge her in any manner. In point of fact, he didn’t take his long, narrow eyes from Finn McLeod. And the saber in his hand, aimed directly at Finn’s heart, never wavered. Griffin was nearest to her in age. And consequently, they were very close. He towered over his brothers. His height almost approached that of Finn’s. But whereas no one would describe McLeod as pretty, Griffin was only saved from that sobriquet by the ruthlessness of his nature. The man before her was almost feral. Jess thought of him now as a leashed predator. One should never poke at such a lethal beast.

  “Jess, I’d like you to go below decks. Just for a while. We’ll conduct our business with McLeod quickly. Then we can be on our way,” Dylan said.

  If she hadn’t known any better, Jess would have sworn he was making a polite request. But she knew her oldest brother well. That, along with the chilling murderous light in his eyes, made her fearful.

  “No, thank you,” she answered with a civil firmness. She stepped more fully in front of Finn.

  “It wasn’t a request, Jessamine,” Dylan said mildly.

  “I know,” she challenged him.

  “You can’t protect the blackguard,” Connor snarled. He’d retrieved a short, nasty looking blade.

  Her only response was a belligerent tilt of her pointed chin.

  “Take her below,” Dylan ordered the blonde man.

  Connor sighed. He slid the horn-gripped blade back into its sheath. “I’ll get her down there. And I’ll make sure she stays. But don’t finish this until I get back.” He started towards the girl.

  “If you touch her, I’ll kill you,” Finn promised in an unaffected voice.

  Griffin broke his eerie silence to snort in disbelief. “Stop your posturing, McLeod. You know you have no chance against the three of us.”

  “Touch her, and we’ll all find out, won’t we?”

  “Jess get below. Now.” Dylan’s voice became harsh. He no longer cajoled. He no longer made any pretense of being anything other than what he’d been, a cold-blooded assassin.

  “If you would all stop spitting and hissing at each other like tom cats, I could easily explain the situation,” the girl interjected with no small amount of frustration.

  “Go below,” Dylan and Finn said at the same time. They frowned at each other.

  Jess rolled her eyes at them both. “See, here’s the reason the world is constantly consumed in warfare. Men would rather resort to violence than take the time to listen to reason.

  “Connor?” Dylan speared his brother with a telling look.

  It was clear he wanted the blonde man to do as he’d been ordered and take their baby sister out of harm’s way. Connor began towards the girl once more. Only to be stopped by Finn’s voice.

  “She will go of her own volition. You will not force her,” Finn growled.

  “No, she won’t,” Jess sniped. “Honestly, I’m standing right here. There’s no need to throw out your chests and beat upon them like jungle animals. Griffin sheath that sword. You look like a fool brandishing the huge thing about. The rest of you quit trying to incite each other to murder.”

  “Curse you Jess,” Griffin groused, but he did indeed slide the saber into its scabbard. “You’re our baby sister. There’s a mark on your face. And the wretch all but ravished you in full sight of my ship. What did you expect us to do? Shake his hand and slap him on the back?”

  “I expect you to remember that I’m an adult,” she said with primness.

  It earned her a cynical snicker from all the brothers.

  “That was uncalled for,” she chastised. Then she pointed her finger at them as if they were a pack of rowdy schoolboys. “Captain McLeod had nothing to do with the state of my face. You will not resort to violence.”

  “Not in front of you.” Connor smiled when he said it. But it was not a reassuring gesture.

  “You will not engage in violence, at all.” Jess frowned. “And I can assure you, what you witnessed was not of a carnal nature, not in the least. So there is absolutely no reason for all this disagreement.” It was a poorly told lie. And since they’d all been involved in intrigue as an occupation, they all knew it.

  “He was holding you,” Connor remarked.

  “He looked to be kissing you,” Dylan added.

  “I’ll kill him!” Griffin’s hand settled once again on the butt of his sword.

  “But you see, appearances can often be deceiving. And in this particular case, they certainly were,” she said. Jess nervously smoothed her suddenly clammy hands down the length of her skirt. The blasted thing was dancing about in the stiff breeze.

  “Is that the truth?” Dylan directed his pointed question to McLeod.

  “No,” the man answered without hesitation.

  Griffin’s weapon rang as it was jerked free again. Connor had his knife back in his hand. Dylan smiled, cold and hard.

  “I didn’t think so,” the Duke of MacAllister sa
id.

  “Wait, just wait.” Jess backed up until she was firmly ensconced against Finn’s wide broad chest. “You would believe the word of a thieving pirate over your own sister?” She went on the offensive.

  “He’s not a thieving pirate,” Griffin muttered. “If you don’t know that by now, we’ve more than one problem to resolve.”

  “She knows it,” Finn answered gruffly.

  “Well, that’s one point in your favor. At least you didn’t lie to our sister, before you ruined her.” Connor took great pleasure in tossing the razor-sharp knife back and forth in his hands.

  “I’m not ruined,” Jess said hotly.

  All the men turned to glare down at her with incredulity. All right, she thought, maybe I am just a wee bit ruined. But it’s nothing that time, a decade or more, and a nun’s vows couldn’t remedy.

  “Jess, step back,” Griffin ordered. “I’d hate to see your black dress get spattered with blood.”

  “It’s not a dress, you fool. It’s a nun’s habit,” she muttered. The girl refused to move.

  “Griffin’s right, Jess,” Dylan said. “If you won’t go below, at least get out of the way. You can’t protect him.”

  “They’re right, love,” Finn coaxed. He put a hand on her trim waist to gently move her aside.

  “Love?” Griffin barked. “Who gave you the right to address our sister in such a familiar manner?”

  “She did,” Finn answered.

  “Jess?” Dylan’s voice and look were a fair interrogation.

  Jess felt trapped. If she told her brothers what lay between she and Finn, they’d surely murder him. That one hot kiss was enough to earn him a quick death at the point of one of her brother’s weapons. But if she told them the false story about Finn and she being engaged, she’d be trapped in another way. Finn solved the problem for her with his next words.

  “We’re betrothed,” he said with absolutely no inflection.

  “I believe you’ll need to repeat yourself, McLeod. I thought I heard you say you’re engaged to my sister, without my knowledge.” Dylan went into full-fledged Duke of MacAllister haughtiness.

  “We are not betrothed,” Jess sputtered. She shot Finn an evil look. “We are certainly not betrothed. I would not do such a thing without telling my family.”

  “You would not do such a thing, at all?” Dylan reposted acerbically. “You would need my legal consent to enter into such a binding, legal agreement.”

  “This is not the Middle Ages, Dylan,” Jess said hotly. “I can marry whomever I choose.”

  “I thought you’d decided to be a nun?” Griffin said in some confusion. “Though how is that even possible, since you’re not Catholic?”

  “You know he’s after your money, Jess?” Connor chose a more cynical route.

  “I’m not after her money,” Finn rumbled.

  “Oh, and I believe that outrageous lie because you so apparently have pots of money of your own,” Connor mocked.

  “I’m not after her money,” McLeod grated out. It was true. He was wealthy, in his own right, though no one knew that fact.

  “In any event, it doesn’t matter, because I am not betrothed,” Jess said adamantly.

  Dylan looked at Finn. He asked him a pointed question, “Did you compromise my sister?”

  McLeod nodded. “I did.”

  “You did not!” Jess screeched. She turned to face him. “You promised not to tell anyone about that fiendish kiss,” she hissed softly.

  Jess hadn’t meant for any one of the others to hear her. But, being spies, their hearing was rather acute. And she may have been just the teeniest bit loud, since she was, understandably, very upset.

  “You kissed Jess?” Connor demanded of Finn.

  Jess hastened to answer, “Of course, he didn’t.”

  She vowed she would pray over this whole series of lies later. She’d ask for forgiveness. She’d promise the Almighty to never, ever tell a falsehood again. If He’d just let her get through this awkward interview unscathed.

  McLeod remained silent. There was an ocean of love and compassion coming from his eyes as he stared down at the girl. He knew well the quandary she’d twisted herself into. And for his purposes, he would not help her extricate herself.

  “Is she ruined, Maitland?” Dylan demanded.

  “She is. She is ruined beyond all repair. Unless she marries me,” he answered.

  “You promised,” Jess whispered weakly.

  “No love, I only promised not to speak of the kiss. And I didn’t. I never promised to keep secret the night you spent in my bed,” he said.

  He barely managed to shove her out of the way before Griffin’s blade made a shallow, bleeding score into his throat. Finn still made no move to defend himself. He wouldn’t. Her brothers deserved their ire. And he had earned a beating from them. He only hoped it would not end in his death. Because, now that he’d found a way to tie Jess to him, he’d never let her go while he yet breathed.

  “Don’t kill him,” the girl pleaded for McLeod’s life. She sat huddled on the slippery deck.

  “I must. He stole your innocence.” Griffin was infuriated.

  “He stole nothing from me, nothing.”

  “You lay with him willingly?” Connor asked aghast.

  “It’s complicated,” Jess hedged.

  The night she’d spent, with Finn, in the gaol, could hardly qualify as a sensual awakening. But how was she to explain that to her brothers. The fact that she’d kept company overnight with, not one man, but two men would surely ruin her forever in the eyes of polite society. And the worse part was, McLeod had truly kept his promise to her. He’d never mentioned the kiss they’d shared. She’d done that herself, in a moment of weakness and despair. She could blame no one for this whole spectacle, but herself. And, of course, at that pivotal moment her Aunt Dorcas showed up.

  “Oh, wonderful,” the old lady cooed. “Now we have the whole family here to celebrate your happy news, Jessamine. Have you told them of your impending nuptials?”

  She could keep up the façade of the betrothal. Even though she now had reservations as to McLeod’s suitability. Once they got to Savannah, she would cry off. Finn wouldn’t be the first man to be jilted before marriage vows were spoke.

  All the St. John men bowed at once. They each, in turn, joined their little dumpling of an aunt. They raised her hand in theirs, and kissed the back of it. Once all the courtesies were duly accounted for, they began to speak.

  “McLeod informed us of the betrothal,” Dylan said smoothly. “But we’ve yet to work out the particulars of Jess’s marriage settlement.”

  “We need to protect her assets,” Connor added, giving Finn a stern look.

  “We’ll insist upon a long engagement, very long. Because you never know,” Griffin drawled. “Life is so precarious. Something untoward might happen to Captain McLeod.” It was a threat, pure and simple.

  “What an unsettling thought,” Dorcas said weakly. She fanned herself as if she might swoon. “I’d never realized how dangerous life upon the seas might prove.”

  She gave Finn a speculative glance. “I don’t suppose you’d consider giving up your sailing?” she inquired of the captain.

  The tall man nodded. “I might. If there was an adequate incentive,” he answered with perfect aplomb.

  “You’re not getting her money, McLeod,” Griffin roared. The sharp point of his saber dug deeper into Finn’s flesh.

  The sea captain calmly pushed the weapon aside. He looked directly down into Jess’s face. “I’ve already assured you, I want no monetary gain from my union with Jess. She is all I want.”

  Every person on that rolling deck knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he spoke the truth. Dorcas sighed. It was like a modern-day fairy tale. Suddenly she was well-pleased with the results of all her former machinations. McLeod would need some tutoring. And perhaps a minder, of some sort. That was true. But Jess would marry into an aristocratic family. The girl would take her place
in society. And, by and by, Dorcas would have the pleasure of dandling the McLeod offspring upon her ample knees. They would be her grandchildren. And who knew, if God ordained, somehow Finn may come to be a peer, in his own right. That would tie every loose end up nicely in a neat, orderly bow.

  “Do you love him, Jess,” Dylan asked. For that question was utmost in his mind. He knew how love could make a marriage Heaven on earth. And the lack of it could make a union a black and stinking Hell. He’d always intended for his baby sister to enjoy the deep communion he himself shared with his dear wife, Rory.

  The girl sitting slumped on the deck didn’t answer. Although everything in her wanted to believe Finn’s quiet declaration, she hesitated.

  “Jess?” Dylan called.

  “What?” she asked, stunned by the enormity of what had just happened to her.

  It did not escape her notice that though the tall, handsome sea captain had articulated his desire for her. He’d never mentioned love. And there was his spiritual state, and his checkered past to consider as well. Could she yoke herself in marriage to an unbeliever? The scripture was very clear about how a Christian should not undertake marriage with someone outside of the faith.

  “I could countenance this betrothal, if I thought you cared for the man,” Dylan said.

  Jess swallowed hard. She looked at the hands knotted in her lap. She wet her dry lips with a quick swipe of her tongue. She didn’t know what to answer. But she decided the truth was always sufficient.

  “I… care for him,” she admitted not daring to look into Finn’s triumphant face.

  Chapter 10

  “I care for my horse,” Connor said sarcastically. “But I don’t want to marry it.”

  “He’s right, Jess. Caring is a rather lukewarm sentiment,” Dylan agreed. “A marriage can’t be based on such a weak foundation.”