Carlton, Amber - Trinity Magic (Siren Publishing Romance)

by Amber Carlton

  “I don’t want to talk right now,” she said.

  “Would you rather have sex with me?” When she flinched, he shrugged. “Didn’t think so. So why were you sent here?”

  I’ll take Hidden Secrets for $400, Alex.

  “’Twas a mistake,” she said.

  “I know. You were framed. Everyone says that.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  Ryder ignored her. “Did you hijack the crown jewels? Plot to kill the king? Perhaps kill your husband on your wedding night?”

  Arleigh shook her head slowly.

  “It had to be pretty bad for such a punishment. They sent only the most dangerous here in the early years.” He planted his chin on his fist, watching her squirm. “Perhaps something more clandestine, something that might have brought shame to a nice Catholic family living in a postcard village like Rosscannon Quay. I imagine everyone knew you there. Not many secrets in Rosscannon Quay.”

  “Please stop.”

  “You’ve obviously been coddled for a very long time. Even little girls learn some of the skills you don’t possess. Did you catch the eye of a prominent local, Arleigh? Maybe even a nobleman? You’re certainly pretty enough for a nobleman’s bed. Did he choose you out of all the comely Irish lasses and take you to his house? Did he educate you? Train you? Force you to his bed?”

  Arleigh paled. “No. Why would you think that?”

  Why are you doing this to her, Kendall? Stop now before you force her to really hate you.

  For some reason he couldn’t stop. Now that he had started, the determination to make her confess overwhelmed him. If he rattled her enough, she would break down.

  “You can be quite charming and witty and seem to have knowledge unavailable to most women. You have a certain air about you that suggests a life of comfort, and you’re very attractive to men. There’s promise in your eyes, Arleigh.”

  She inhaled sharply. “Promise?”

  “Oh, yes. A man’s heart can beat faster at your glance, and your touch, well, you’ve seen the consequences of that. You, princess, are what every man wants. You have a sensual grace about you that beckons a man. You’re quite the femme fatale when you rein in that shrew inside of you.” He waited for that exasperated huff she loved to make then continued. “So what happened? Did he try to rape you? Did you have to kill him?”

  She literally crawled out of her skin and clutched the arms of the rocker, ready to bolt.

  “You can’t escape it, can you? You caught the attention of another powerful man here, didn’t you? Would Cameron Flynn have the answers I need?”

  Her lips clamped tight, and anger roared through him. He wanted the answers. What had started as a game, something to end the tedium inspired by volume after volume of the mundane existence of life on Trinity Island, had now evolved into something more important. He wanted to know every secret she had buried inside of her. Until he knew what she hid, he would never have her.

  He finished off his mug of rotgut and poured another. She put her sewing down on the side table by the rocker, poised to run. Her glance darted to the attic stairway, and she half-rose.

  “Sit, Arleigh. We’re not finished.”

  “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

  “Not until I say so. Unless you’re planning to go to my bed. Then by all means go. I’ll join you.”

  She stood up and blew out her breath. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, a gesture he found both endearing and irritating. It seemed to be the signal to release that Irish harpy she harbored inside. He would have to give her a little attitude adjustment.

  “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” she snapped.

  “No?” He raised his glass and stared at the amber swirls in the light of the candle flame. When he raised his drink, the wavering image of her body shimmered through the cloudy glass. Real. Tangible. Everything he wanted. He raised the drink to his mouth and looked at her over the rim of his glass. “I own you, remember?”

  “Well, I-I know that, but I didn’t think you’d—”

  “Boss you around? I didn’t intend to, but sometimes you seem a little disrespectful, considering I’ve inherited not only this island but you. You get argumentative, surly, and downright bitchy at times. You don’t think that’s inappropriate, considering I hold your future in my hands?”

  Arleigh refused to look at him. She stared at the ceiling, obviously thinking of some pithy retort to put him in his place, something that would make him doubt his own words. He knew how this one operated, and he knew how to handle her because he sensed what frightened her.

  “You want to stay on Trinity, don’t you?” he asked softly.

  Her gaze fluttered down to his in defeat. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip. He was sorry to see that glint of anxiety, but he wasn’t in the mood for her abuse.

  “Aye,” she whispered.

  “Then come over here, sit down, and let’s continue our talk. Join me in a drink. Let’s pretend we’re friends.”

  “Friends?”

  “I’m not sure what else to call us…yet.”

  Arleigh glanced around, seeking a diversion. He reached behind him and grabbed another glass from a shelf. He poured some of the whiskey and slid it across the table while she tentatively hovered near the bench. He nodded his head, and she sat reluctantly. Ryder downed his drink while Arleigh took a sip of hers, trying very hard to control her reaction. She wanted to appear nonchalant. Very brave, but impossible considering the strength of Stephen’s brew. She choked the liquid down, trying not to gag. Her eyes teared and she wiped her mouth with her apron. He waited for her to find her breath, a smile on his face.

  “It’s not exactly Jack Daniels,” Ryder said, “but it has a certain appeal.”

  Actually, Stephen’s whiskey had a lot of appeal. His head already felt lighter, and the instantaneous buzz offered an illusion of comfort. The liquor burned a hole straight down his throat and into his stomach, taking the edge off his obsession with Arleigh, but now he obsessed in different ways. He had questions, lots of them. They were burning a hole in his brain while the rotgut burned a hole through the lining of his stomach. Did they have gastroenterologists in the New World? Doubtful, but he’d look into it. He’d need one.

  “So, are any of my theories correct?”

  Arleigh favored him with her very best scowl and tossed the rest of her drink down her throat. She gasped, her eyes wide and teary, but when she slammed the glass down on the table, she glared at him. Tougher than she looked, a nasty little kitten with sharp, dangerous claws. Her eyes narrowed, inspecting him like he couldn’t find a decent theory with a flashlight and map.

  “Not even close, but very imaginative.”

  “Oh, I thought I’d hit on something. I’ll have to do more thinking and let you know what I come up with.”

  Arleigh stood up and untied her apron. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop thinking about me at all. We’ve had our drink. May I go to bed now?”

  “Mine?” She scowled at him. “Then I have more questions.”

  Arleigh planted her palms on the table and leaned closer. She had obviously been counting on his being too drunk to continue, but she didn’t know what his hobby had been in the last four months. “I’m getting tired of you and your questions.”

  He poured another shot into her glass. “Have another drink. Perhaps I’m easier to take that way. I know you are.”

  Arleigh slid the glass toward him. “I don’t want another drink, Master Kendall. I don’t think any of my obligations include being your friend. Why are you asking me these things? None of it matters. Stephen had no interest in my life. What happened before I came here means nothing. You own me now. I do the work I’ve been purchased to do. I’m not a danger to you or to the girls, and I certainly—”

  “You’re a convicted felon, Arleigh. That dictates a certain amount of caution on my part. Why did Stephen buy you?”

  She snapped her mouth closed. He had finally found some
thing that could render her speechless, a fucking miracle. She sighed and sat back down on the bench, pulling the drink toward her.

  “He needed someone to watch after the girls.”

  “It doesn’t make sense. Why would a devoted father like Stephen put his children in danger by buying the contract of a woman with a suspicious past? You must have a history of violence, Arleigh, or you wouldn’t be here.” Ryder paused and peered at her intently. “Does the incident that sent you here have anything to do with Flynn?”

  She surprised him by not reacting at all. “No.”

  “So Stephen chose you out of all the women that arrived on that particular day? Don’t get me wrong. I would have chosen you, too. Hard to resist that package. But why would Stephen buy a woman at all? His wife died seven years ago, Arleigh. There wasn’t another woman on this island until you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He ran his hand across the binding of a ledger. “Because I’ve studied these books. I’ve found every other indenture on this island listed in the records. Payments. Time served. Work records. Bond release and items received. He even purchased small plots of land for each. There were no women. Only men. Stephen apparently took care of the house and the girls by himself after Sarah died. He seemed to have his domestic life under control. So what changed? You were purchased by a fairly simple man with a fairly simple life. Why would he do that?”

  She studied the whiskey. She looked like she tried to decipher the debris that floated within it like tea leaves.

  “Do you know what I didn’t find in these books, Arleigh? There is not one mention of you. Don’t you think that’s odd, considering how precise he was about his records?”

  “Maybe he didn’t have time.”

  “Stephen would have made the time. I think you were left out of the records on purpose. I think you were Stephen’s dirty little secret, the one thing he couldn’t bear to write down.”

  She peeked at him. “Why do you think that?”

  Ryder leaned forward. He meant to speak gently, but when the words left his mouth, they sounded like an accusation. “I think he loved you, Arleigh. I think he thought of you as his wife.”

  “He didn’t,” she whispered.

  “He never made love to you?”

  “You saw I’m a virgin,” she said irritably.

  “There are lots of ways to make love,” Ryder said.

  She gave him one of her bitchy looks, but he ignored her. He ran his hands across the ledgers. “Until you came, Stephen held his own here financially, not exactly rolling in dough, but pretty prosperous. How much did Stephen pay for you? Where did he get the money?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  Ryder slammed his fist down on the table. Arleigh flinched and leapt to her feet, struggling with the urge to run. His sudden temper abated, but a more quiet rage moved through him. His hand curled around the glass, and it cracked. He forced himself to relax, fighting the desire to scream at her and demand to know why she didn’t want to be near him. He ground his teeth in an effort to control his own voice. His dentist would not be pleased.

  “Sit. Down.”

  She warily lowered herself to the bench and clutched the edge of the table, spying at him through the veil of hair that covered her face. He could barely look at her. The need to reach across the table and shake her overwhelmed him. She was either extremely naïve or impossibly defiant.

  “It keeps slipping your mind who’s in charge here, princess. Have you forgotten I’m the one responsible for finding a way to keep you on Trinity?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “You’ll tell me what you know, Arleigh, and you will be completely honest with me, or I won’t lift a finger. We’ll let Flynn take your contract. With you out of the picture, my life might be easier.” He paused and stared at her, giving her time to make her decision. “Are we in danger of losing this island, this farm, and those girls because of some insatiable craving Stephen had for you?”

  “He ne’er touched me!”

  “A man does not purchase a woman like you for altruistic purposes, Arleigh. Do you know what I found in these records? I found a frugal, methodical, detail-oriented man who never wanted anything for himself beyond a new pair of work boots. I saw Stephen as a better man than I could ever hope to be. But when I found no mention of you, I realized Stephen did want something for himself. He wanted you so much he risked everything he owned to have you. He never even tried to get you in his bed?”

  A tear slid down Arleigh’s cheek. “No, but he wanted to.”

  Ryder’s brow shot up at her sudden confession, but he let it go. Thinking of Stephen hurt something inside of her. Stephen must have been a very decent man if he had kept his hands off her. Caindale had gotten a raw deal.

  “You told me Stephen was in debt to Flynn. He didn’t write any of that down in these ledger books, either. Did he borrow money from Flynn to pay for you?”

  “Aye!” She furiously wiped at her face, and a sob caught in her throat. “Are you satisfied now? Are you happy to know Stephen wasn’t so perfect, so you can feel better about yourself?”

  “How much?”

  “I don’t know,” Arleigh said miserably. She pushed her hair back from her face. “Cameron said ’twas more than…more than the price of five women.”

  Ryder dropped his head into his hands. “Fuck.”

  More than five women. It sounded like a fortune. Ryder stood up, and the whiskey slammed through his head. An immediate pain flared behind his eyes, and he wobbled slightly. He had to plant his hands on the table to hold steady. Stephen had missed his calling. He should have been a distiller. He could have made a fortune, and they wouldn’t be in this mess.

  “Go to bed,” he muttered. “I have some thinking to do.”

  “I didn’t ask him to buy me,” Arleigh whispered.

  Ryder peered at her through the strands of his hair. He didn’t even have enough strength to brush it back.

  “You didn’t have to. He couldn’t help himself. He was a Kendall. Kendalls are fucking idiots when it comes to women. Go upstairs.”

  Chapter 15

  Arleigh moved down the dark staircase and pushed open the door. Peeking through, she saw Ryder had finally gone to bed, more likely fell into it. After she had fled the room at his insistence, he stayed up for hours. He roamed around the room, tossing logs into the fire, digging through the cabinets, searching and spying, like he had every right in the world to go through her things. From the look of it, he had been drinking the entire time. The bottle on the table said it all. He would be of no use in the morning. She knew what Stephen’s whiskey could do to a man. She’d seen it many times.

  The ledgers lay on the table in an untidy stack. All Arleigh saw was a tower of blame. Parchments filled with ciphering scattered across the planks. She lifted one and held it up to the light of the hearth. Arleigh didn’t understand much about ciphering, but Ryder had been trying to come up with a certain sum. An incredibly large sum. There were columns with items, columns with numbers. So far, he hadn’t had much luck. The amounts scribbled across the pages came nowhere near to equaling the large number he had circled over and over again at the top of one page. The large, dark, viciously circled number pointed at her like an accusing finger.

  She glanced toward the bedroom door. He thought to sell Stephen’s belongings, stock and tools? How would they survive on Trinity? What could he possibly gain from that?

  He would have you free and clear.

  Why would he do that? She knew the answer to that. He simply couldn’t help himself. The same obsession that dwelled in Stephen had found a nesting place in Ryder. The curse. The need to have her no matter what the consequences. She couldn’t allow him to destroy himself and the future of Trinity. She put the parchment on the table. She would have to convince him she wasn’t worth the sacrifice. Now would be the best time, before she lost her nerve. She listened at the bedroom door and heard him s
hift on the mattress. She lifted the latch and pushed the door open.

  She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, trying to gather her courage. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the darkness. His shadow sat up on the bed, propped against the pillows. Her heart hammered, and she regretted her decision. Her hand fumbled with the latch, but the sound of his voice caused her to freeze.

  “Stay,” he said.

  “No, I can’t.”

  “You can’t do a lot of things, Arleigh. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.” His shadow legs swung toward the floor, and she pawed the latch again. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

  “Don’t run from me.”

  “I wanted to talk to you, but I shouldn’t have come in here.”

  “You’re here now, so talk. What’s on your mind?”

  Arleigh kept her eyes locked on his shadow. Her nerves were on fire. What had possessed her to come in here? Dealing with an emotional and unpredictable Ryder was touchy at best. Stephen’s spirits were not going to make him more rational. But he didn’t seem angry with her any longer, so she plunged ahead. She didn’t seem to have a choice.

  “I saw the parchments and ciphering.”

  “And?”

  “If you’re thinking to sell some of the stock, Trinity won’t have much of a future.”

  “Uh huh.”

  He didn’t seem the least bit concerned he would have nothing left. The curse played havoc with men’s minds. She’d seen it before.

  “Is this something you truly plan to do?”

  “It’s an option,” Ryder said. “Perhaps my only one.”

  Arleigh took a hesitant step toward the bed. “Are you doing this for me?”

  The shadow Ryder ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t seem to be able to think unless he touched his hair. When he stood up, Arleigh lurched backwards and came up against the door. Ryder kept moving toward her, but she had nowhere to go.

  “I don’t want you to sell things for me,” Arleigh whispered. “It won’t change anything.”

  “Change what? The fact that you won’t come to me willingly? I’ve accepted that. You’re pretty determined to ignore what’s happening between us, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you go.”