by Amber Lin
What if it had been a targeted attack? A small one, to be sure, but damage had been done. It would have been much worse if a spark had reached the sails. People could have died. She could have died. Nate could have died, and that seemed the worst tragedy of all.
Mrs. Wheaton appeared at the kitchen door, eyes sharp. “Where is Santiago?”
“He went to see if Nate needs help. There was a small fire on the ship, but don’t worry. Everyone is fine.”
The housekeeper’s eyes were dark, alert. “I’m sure Santiago will be of service.”
“Does he work for the same shipping company, then?”
Mrs. Wheaton gave her an uncertain look. “No, not exactly. He is employed by Captain Bowen directly.”
“Oh, I see.”
“I’m not sure you do.” She seemed to choose her words carefully. “Captain Bowen isn’t merely a ship’s captain. You do know that, don’t you?”
“He’s not?” Juliana was momentarily taken aback. What else could he be? He couldn’t have lied about his position. The men all called him Captain. “What is he, then?” she asked in confusion.
“An owner. Captain Bowen is a partner in the shipping company. He was one of the founders.”
A vise around Juliana’s chest. Dimness all around. Nate did not work for the company that had ruined her father. He owned it.
She’d known he was part of the company, of course. He had been in the Hargate Shipping offices when they met. But a captain only did the bidding of the owners. He would have no say in the decisions. No blame.
Instead, he had seen the floundering company and swooped in to snatch it up. Or if she believed her father’s rants, he was the one who’d stirred up the rumors and accusations that had caused the company to fail.
Losing the floundering company had not caused the indictment against her father. The lies and the resulting investigation had started months before the company went under. The creditors had lost all faith in her father’s management, and demanded immediate repayment. The debts had been extensive. Not a farthing had been left to pay a solicitor, or any of the bills.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Wheaton said, dismayed. “I assumed— He should have told you himself.”
“No, I—” Juliana felt lightheaded. “He doesn’t owe me an explanation. A woman in my position would not require one.”
A mistress. A courtesan. That was what Juliana implied.
Because a wife deserved the truth.
She tried to smile, to alleviate the worry on the housekeeper’s face. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell him you said anything.”
Indignation passed over the lined face. “I’m not afraid of him, miss. I’m angry. I never did like the way he kept you here. He’s usually a fair man, a reasonable one. Except when it comes to—”
“When it comes to what?”
“I’ve said too much already.” Mrs. Wheaton shook her head, her expression faintly tragic. “But know this. If you need to leave, I have a few coins set aside. Not as many as a man such as the captain could give you, but enough to take you out of London.”
Juliana’s throat grew tight. Mrs. Wheaton was offering her something even Nate had never done. Freedom. Juliana clasped her hand. “Thank you for that. It means more than you can know. Unfortunately, I believe I’ve fallen in love with the foolish man. I would like to stay and hear his side.”
Mrs. Wheaton looked distinctly pleased, though she tried to hide it with a severe expression. “Then stay and talk to him, for all the good it’ll do you.”
The housekeeper made tea and offered to make up a separate bed chamber. But Juliana refused to trouble her when she could just as soon use Nate’s. Besides, she had no intention of sleeping before she found out the truth.
The entire truth, this time. Even if it killed her. She would find out whether Nate was responsible for ruining her family. For ruining her. In more ways than simply stealing her virtue.
She wandered into his study, with its shelves of expensive trinkets. She sat down at his desk and looked at the room from his perspective. Rain pattered against the window. A few minutes ago it had been dry.
She turned back to the room. It reminded her of a dragon’s lair, a haphazard collection of shiny things. A gilt letter opener sat on the leather pad of the desk. She toyed with the encrusted bone handle before reaching to put it away. She pulled open the drawer, revealing a silver locket.
Her locket.
She suddenly recalled the last time she’d found it in her search. She’d had no idea at the time that it belonged to her.
Picking up the thin chain, she held it so the pendant hung down. Her heart panged at the familiar sight. An unremarkable piece of jewelry, important only to herself. Her father had tried to persuade her to exchange it for something new and prettier, but Juliana preferred the locket that had been passed down from her mother.
Why had Nate hidden this from her? But she already knew. The room not only held treasures—it held trophies. Mementos for the conquering army.
Was her locket also a trophy?
And here she sat, herself a living trophy. Looking around with a growing sense of horror, she realized she was exactly what he collected—something important, taken from his enemy.
She’d never meant anything to him but as an object.
She laughed hollowly. But what a poor prize. Skin instead of pearl inlay, and eyelashes where gold trim should be. Unlike the rest of the ornaments in this room, she had no worth except that which Nate assigned her. Abandoned by her father. Ruined for society. She was not wanted by anyone—apparently, not even by the man she loved.
Chapter Seventeen
Nate paced along the front of Hargate Shipping with Wilson’s allegation ringing in his ears. His men had since dragged him inside the offices while Nate determined what the hell to do with him. But he couldn’t get past the accusation.
Bennett. A spy.
Nate had once accused Juliana of being just such an agent. It wasn’t uncommon. Wealthy and titled gentleman might own the trading companies, but they could cheat and lie and steal with the best of them. The docks were a wild place, a cutthroat’s paradise, and Nate had always felt right at home.
Not anymore. Now he felt ill, imagining Bennett lying to him and slinking around his offices. Reporting back to some competitor. Reporting back to Hargate. No wonder Bennett had been so reluctant to speak openly to Nate.
His entire presence was a damned lie.
There was no proof that Bennett had been a spy, nothing but Wilson’s word. Wilson, who had already proven himself unstable. And yet Nate instinctively knew it was true. He had recognized the guilt in Bennett’s eyes too many times. He’d assumed it was a byproduct of his rough upbringing, but this— Christ, it made a sick sort of sense.
A figure strode out of the shadows. Nate tensed. A light mist had begun to fall, filling the air with reflective light. He relaxed when he saw who it was. Santiago looked rumpled—his clothing less elaborate and sharp than usual—but his gaze was fully alert, his expression concerned.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Nothing serious. At least, not yet.” Not until he found Hargate and Bennett. And then what?
“The girl said something about a fire.”
“You remember Wilson? He expressed his displeasure with my captaincy by attacking the ship. I wish you would have stayed put at home. The women would be safer with you there.”
He had a brief bad moment thinking about Bennett in his new light. But the boy would never hurt Juliana. Nate knew that in his gut.
But it did occur to him that the fire would be a perfect distraction. All of his attention would be on the ship. No one would be at his home.
Except the woman he loved.
“You worry for her?” His old friend scoffed. “She told me her name. I know who she is. Have you forgotten your enemy so quickly?”
“I have forgotten nothing,” he snapped. “And Juliana Hargate is not my enemy. Her father is.”
>
Santiago shook his head. “Well, you needn’t worry. All was well when I left the house, and by now she is safely in your bed, I presume.”
After a brief moment of profound relief, a dark, protective instinct rose up at his friend’s casual insult. “Watch yourself.”
“So that’s the way of it, eh?”
“It is.”
Santiago studied him, eyes narrowed. A moment passed. “Then let me be the first to congratulate you.”
“Thank you. Now that you’re here, make yourself useful and handle Wilson.”
A grim look entered Santiago’s eyes. “I’ll do that.”
“No, old friend. I’m asking you to hand him over to the magistrate. Sinclair should arrive shortly.” The duke would no doubt be furious about the additional delays. It was costing them a fortune—money that had been lost because Nate had insisted on decades-old justice and revenge. Nate had been mired in the past, unable to pull free.
“You trust the authorities?” Santiago asked.
“We’re legitimate men of commerce now. That means working in the system, not fighting it.”
Juliana had taught him that. He had been burned before. But true courage lay in risking the flame again. Trusting her, loving her. That was the risk he took. All the while fearing for her safety. Even now, the worry beat beneath his heart, drawing him away from his ship and his work.
Santiago snorted, then realized he was serious. “After what they did to you?”
The rain fell harder, pelting them. Lightning lit up the sky. “She’s worth it,” Nate murmured over the roar. And suddenly, urgently, he knew what he must do.
A hackney passed by, splashing their legs with freezing water. He hailed it and hauled himself up against the damp squabs.
“Where are you going?” Santiago shouted.
“To tell her that.”
To tell her everything. She deserved to know his entire past. She deserved to know the role he had played in her ruin. And most of all, she deserved the chance to leave him—for that was what he surely deserved.
He could only hope she wouldn’t.
…
Thunder cracked from outside, rattling the window pane. Footsteps shuffled outside the door. Nate. He was home, and that meant he was safe. Juliana didn’t know why she worried about that. But she did. A prank, he’d called the fire. But she felt something sinister move through the air, a warning blowing with the wind.
The door to the study opened. Bennett stepped inside, just halfway. Her heart sank. It wasn’t Nate after all. The boy must have woken up, judging by his mussed hair.
But then he came farther into the room—he was pushed, actually, by someone from behind. At first she didn’t recognize the man, so gaunt and tattered. He was wet, too, having come in from the rain. He pressed a pistol to Bennett’s back.
A pistol.
Juliana took a step forward, prepared to stand in front of Bennett as she had earlier. But she was too far away this time, and approaching the stranger would only put the boy in peril. Except—
The man wasn’t a stranger.
“Juliana,” he said, and then she knew for certain.
Her heart squeezed unbearably, until there should have been nothing left. So it shouldn’t have hurt so badly to see such brutal, irrefutable confirmation that her father had betrayed her. And it shouldn’t have made her feel better that he had clearly suffered for his actions. But neither of those things were true.
Because he was her father, and she still loved him.
“Oh, Papa. What have you done?”
But she found she hated him, too.
“What have I done? It is another man who ruined us. That’s why I’m here. To retrieve what is mine.”
Was he delusional? Her father’s knuckles turned white with the force of his hold on Bennett’s shoulder.
“Let him go! Bennett is just a child!”
Her father laughed. “But not so innocent, is he?”
Bennett shuddered, hands clasped around his waist as if he might be sick. He hadn’t met her gaze since coming in here. Fear? Or guilt?
“Bennett?” she asked, her heart taking another direct hit.
“No qualms with taking my coin,” her father continued. “And then suddenly it’s ‘no, I won’t be helping you any longer.’ Well, that’s all right. Luckily, I won’t need your services after tonight.”
“Did you let him in?” she asked the boy in a whisper.
Bennett shook his head, but she knew what it really meant—regret. He had let her father in. He’d spied on Nate’s company, just as Nate had once accused her of doing. Apparently, the man she loved wasn’t paranoid—simply prescient.
She’d truly cared for Bennett, and he’d betrayed her. The same was true of her father. The double impact stole her breath. Though she could see that the boy was a pawn, of sorts, it still hurt to know that someone she cared for would turn on her. Her father. Bennett.
And Nate?
He had already withheld the truth from her. A truth he’d known would make her reject him. She wouldn’t have agreed to his proposal. Wouldn’t have slept in his bed. Was that why he hadn’t told her he now owned Hargate Shipping?
She suddenly felt all alone. And small. Even when she had been ejected from her home, walking the streets, she hadn’t felt as low as she did now, facing down her father.
“What do you want?” she asked with more boldness than she felt.
Her father made a vague gesture to the treasure-laden bookshelves. “The same thing you do. Bowen’s money. My money. He stole it, you know. Or did he not mention that while he was swiving you?”
She gasped as her stomach turned over. “Father, what’s happened to you?”
“Offended your sensibilities, have I? I was too soft on you, girl. You should have been married off by now. Not spreading your legs for a ship’s captain.”
Anger rose up in her. “I’d rather an honest ship’s captain than a thief. He didn’t steal your money, Father. You did. You embezzled from your own company, didn’t you? And then you were caught. Nate may have bought Hargate Shipping for a low price, but he didn’t break the law.”
Her father’s face turned mottled. “He was the one who alerted the authorities in the first place!”
Her father was going mad. Either that, or she was. “Why would he do that? How would he even know you were embezzling?”
“At first I thought it was that meddling duke,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Until I spoke to Bowen myself. Can you imagine? All these years later. He was just a child! How was I to know?”
She frowned. “Father, you aren’t making sense.”
His eyes focused on her, bloodshot and shaky. “It was your precious captain who ruined me. He bribed the authorities to investigate me and then stole my company at a low price. He is responsible for your loss of fortune, Juliana. And then he took full advantage.”
“But why would he do that?”
A voice came from the doorway. “Because he did the same to me.”
Nate stood there, dripping wet and pointing a pistol at her father. His coat dripped onto the floor. He wore no hat, and the rain had turned his hair into slick onyx ribbons. He looked at once feral and beautiful. “He ruined my parents and robbed me of my family, my future.”
Bewildered, she stared at him. He couldn’t possibly mean what she thought—
But Nate had turned to her father. “You went a step further, though, didn’t you? Why don’t you tell Juliana how you achieved your ends?”
“I— I didn’t—” Her father clutched Bennett to him, pressing the barrel of his pistol to the boy’s temple.
“I’m sorry,” Bennett whispered. The boy had sobbed his heart out in the carriage when he’d feared Nate’s wrath. But now, facing him, he was solemn and dry-eyed. “I didn’t want to do it, Cap’n.”
Nate ignored him. “Let your daughter and the boy go. You and I will discuss this as men.”
Her father scoffed. “So you
can shoot me?”
Nate’s gaze flicked to her for a split second, than back to her father. “It would be fitting, don’t you think?”
The words rang in the room, echoing through the silence. She went deathly cold. Nate’s parents had been murdered, leaving him orphaned. She remembered that he’d witnessed their deaths. “Father…tell me you didn’t kill his parents. Please.”
“I didn’t! It was my business partner. He had the idea. He did the deed himself.”
Nate’s eyes flashed like fire. “And it’s a pity he was already at the bottom of the ocean by the time I was free, so I couldn’t have the pleasure of killing him myself. But you…you will stand in for him, won’t you? As his partner?”
“No! Wait. I didn’t want— Didn’t like it, the dirty business.”
Nate’s laugh sent chills down her spine. “Very dirty business, especially when there was a witness. A child. Unreliable, don’t you think? Still, you would always wonder if he would identify the murderer.”
Her father swallowed thickly. His gaze darted to the corners of the room like a trapped animal.
“So if the opportunity presented itself, best to get rid of him,” Nate continued. “For example, on a prison hulk. I was only starving because of what you did to my parents. But when I was caught for stealing that damned loaf of bread—”
“How could you? He was a child!” Juliana choked out, but her father gave no response. Besides, what could he say? There was no defense for such cruelty.
The cells were four feet by six, including the sleeping bench. The prisoners were shackled at all times, even inside. We were fed once a day through a space in the cell door. Though sometimes not.
“He had me sentenced as an adult,” Nate said flatly. “Sent me to prison for three years. Would have been longer if the abuses in the prison hadn’t been discovered. They pardoned almost everyone on board just to avoid scandal.”
“Oh, God,” she cried. “Nate. I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t even look at her as he spoke to her father. “I already know the value of the fortune you stole. But how much do you suppose those years of my life are worth? Or the lives of my parents?”
