A Gentleman ’Til Midnight

by Alison Delaine

  “No, it doesn’t.” All she had to do was lean back and close her eyes and ask the question that burned inside her. Is your offer of marriage still open?

  “But it would take a press gang of a hundred men to force me back into service.” His voice took on a bitter edge. “Thank God there are a dozen young officers lined up behind me, eager to take their turn at making a name for themselves. The admirals will soon turn their attention to someone more promising.”

  “I doubt any will earn your reputation.”

  “They will if they’re ruthless enough.”

  He didn’t have to say more. She could read his thoughts in the tone of his voice. He was remembering a career defined by horror. One violent incident after the next—often instigated by his own command—culminating in the wreck of the Henry’s Cross. He’d never admitted it aloud, but she knew he counted that among his personal failings. “What kinds of decisions do you suppose a captain bound for Sunderland has to make?” she mused.

  “At which tavern he’ll take his grog, for one,” James answered with a nip on her shoulder. Humor returned to his voice. “And with which whore he’ll pass the night.”

  A wicked shiver passed across her skin. “Weighty decisions indeed.”

  “You never answered my question. What do you see when you look at those ships? Do you think of returning to the Med? Dream of the West Indies?”

  The dark shapes on the water grew more distinct with every passing moment. Even from this distance she could see the sails going up. “I’ve always dreamed of them.”

  “And yet you never went.”

  “There was fortune aplenty to be made on the Mediterranean. I had no reason to cross the Atlantic and face the unknown. Especially not with Anne.” She watched another white sail billow to life, and another. “I see a thousand ways for Anne to be injured,” she said. “That’s what I see when I look at those ships.”

  His arms came around her and he held her tight. Her throat closed over at the terrifying safety of his embrace. After a moment, she let herself lean back. He was solid, immovable.

  Marry me, Katherine. If he said the words again, would she accept? She imagined his ring sitting with heavy finality on her finger, and she tasted fear.

  “As long as I draw breath,” he whispered, “I shall do anything in my power to keep her safe. Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, one word and I’ll come for her. You have my promise.”

  Disappointment stole her breath. Those were not the words of a man with a proposal on the tip of his tongue. “Anne is my responsibility,” she said quietly. “Not yours.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “My promise stands, regardless.”

  Marry me, Katherine.

  He wasn’t going to repeat those words now. Instead, he drew up the hem of her nightgown and caressed her thighs. Desire flamed across her skin, mocking the turmoil in her heart. “You should return to your room before the household awakes,” she said.

  “Agreed. And I will.” His fingers began an intimate exploration. One finger slid home, then two. “Soon.”

  * * *

  THEY MADE LOVE once more in the predawn. It was five o’clock when James returned to his room. Moments after he left, Katherine silently let herself into the hallway and crept up a back staircase and down an upper corridor, up more stairs and out onto the ramparts. A brisk, humid wind caught her in the face and snuck its fingers down her shawl and nightgown to nip places still warm from James’s touch.

  She needed to find some sense. Some sanity.

  Love was hurling its cannonballs at her, destroying her resistance. And just like a cannonfire attack, one didn’t need prior experience to tell when it was happening—or how destructive it could be. The rubble shifted and settled in fits and starts every time James defied her expectations.

  She hadn’t gone five paces when a body stepped around the corner ahead of her. “William!” Her heart leaped, then settled. “If you’d startled me this way aboard the Possession, I would have had you flogged,” she snapped.

  He flashed that white-toothed grin of his that had no business appearing in the predawn hours. “Makes me miss the sea something fierce when you talk that way.”

  “Well, you’ll be going back to it soon enough,” she said irritably. “Maybe you ought to start today. Now, in fact.”

  “A few extra days’ delay in securing a ship and provisions isn’t going to make a difference. I’m not leaving here until I see you wed to James.”

  “William!”

  “I would say wedded and bedded, but I can see the second part’s been taken care of already.”

  “You see nothing,” she scoffed.

  He laughed, leaving her wondering what had given her away, and whether anyone else would notice it. Beyond him, the surf crashed against the rocky beach and the two ships she’d seen from the window were tiny white dots in the distance. “If it’s a wedding you came to see, you’ll have to satisfy yourself with seeing me wed to Lord Deal.”

  “The hell I will.”

  “We’ve already made arrangements.”

  “The hell you have,” William said. “Never would have let Croston into your room last night.”

  “Arrangements are forthcoming.” Guilt gnawed at her. It was one thing to present herself to Lord Deal as the victim of unfortunate circumstances. It was something else entirely to go to him in marriage still warm from another man’s attentions.

  Yet maybe it didn’t matter. If Lord Deal agreed to marry her, it would not be for love. And he certainly didn’t expect to find her chaste.

  “Sounds to me like Croston’s babe might well be forthcoming. What will you do then? Pass it off as Deal’s?”

  Katherine looked away, turning her face to the wind. The plan was damning, phrased that way.

  “Good God,” William said. “Even you aren’t that ruthless.”

  “Lord Deal is kind. And amusing,” she added, ignoring his question. “I like him.” All she had to do was refuse to open her door tonight when James knocked—and there was no doubt that he would—and make sure what they’d done never happened again.

  If only it were that simple. If only what she and James had done had just been...what they’d done.

  William reached out with a familiar gesture and pulled a strand of hair from her face. “You could never do what you’re suggesting. Know you too well.”

  Sudden emotion welled into her throat, and by the time she felt the tears burning her eyes it was too late to stop them.

  William’s hands clamped over her shoulders. “Did Croston hurt you?”

  She could only shake her head and gulp a breath of air as a tear leaked out. “I do not want to talk about this,” she said fiercely. “William, about the Possession—”

  “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll bring her back safe.”

  “No, do not bring her back here.” Her breath shook, but she forced the words out, anyway. “When you find her, William, she shall be yours.”

  “Katherine—”

  “I mean it. I shall have no need of her now.” It hurt to say the words.

  “That’s not a choice that needs making. I will return her to you regardless. You and Croston can decide what to do with her.” He brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “Consider her return my wedding gift to you. Now, suppose you tell me why you don’t want to talk about Croston.”

  The gentleness in William’s voice was too much, and the words tumbled out. “He makes me...want things...I can’t have.”

  “What things?” William asked, pulling her close. “And why can’t you have them?”

  She buried her face against his shoulder and breathed his familiar scent—that exotic, Ottoman oil he favored. She wanted to give James everything. She wanted to offer him her heart and have him accept it like a precious jewel. Sh
e wanted to hear Anne call him Papa. She wanted to take him to the ramparts and show him how the land stretched for miles and miles and tell him of her plans and dreams.

  They were so fragile, those plans and dreams. Yet with the slightest encouragement, she would tell him everything. The most secret longings of her heart.

  “He makes me want to surrender,” she confessed on a fresh wave of tears, and she felt William tense.

  “Surrendered already, haven’t you?”

  “He makes me want to surrender everything, William. My heart, my mind—I’ve become the foolish, romantic girl I’ve always scorned.”

  William set her back and framed her face. “Katherine, listen to me. I’m all for you marrying Croston—”

  “He hasn’t renewed his proposal.”

  “Renewed.”

  Katherine looked away.

  “You are the most stubborn woman in creation. He’ll renew it in the morning—stake my life on it. But think twice before giving him your heart, Katherine. You’ll only regret it. Worked too hard for your freedom.”

  “I know.” But leaning against James this morning felt more like entering a safe harbor than admitting defeat. Another tear leaked out, and another. She knew all about safe harbors. There weren’t any.

  William searched her eyes. “Haven’t seen you cry in years.”

  She tried to remember another time she’d cried in front of William, but the only one she could think of was the time they’d nearly lost him to infection when he’d taken that wound in his cheek. She’d loved him so much, and the thought of losing him— “I can’t love him, William. I can’t.”

  “Love?” His grip on her tightened.

  “I’m so afraid. The things he makes me feel— It’s gone too far. He is overpowering my will.”

  “Lust, Katherine. Pure and simple. I promise.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Done it a few more times than you, I daresay. Good God.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “You’re not the type to succumb to love, Kate. Been in slavery once already—won’t let it happen again. You’re too strong.”

  But this didn’t feel like slavery had. It was something entirely different—more of a softening. An opening. “I don’t know.”

  “Listen to me. Don’t let Croston turn you into a spineless featherhead. Give him your body, your respect even, but don’t give him what’s inside you.”

  She stared at him, unable to believe it. She’d given James her body, and now she’d all but lost control over it. And she was at risk of giving, and losing, so much more. “What if it’s too late?”

  “It’s not too late. Didn’t you just threaten to have me flogged?” His grin was a momentary flash that hardened almost instantly. “Your threats only prove the Katherine I know is still here.”

  The only thing her threats proved was that William was still capable of aggravating her to no end.

  “My ferocious, bloodthirsty corsair,” William murmured, catching her tears with his thumbs. “You’re a powerful woman, not a foolish child, and you’re much too shrewd to succumb to this kind of romantic fluff. Take him to your bed, if it pleases you. Marry him because he’s the best of your choices—I won’t see you married to anyone less, mark my words—and God knows he’ll make an honest woman of you or he’ll answer to me. Enjoy the bastard’s company, even. But don’t let it be more than that.”

  It was already too late for that. She broke away from him and went to the rampart wall where it faced the sea. Below, the east tower’s ruins sat in a wretched heap. She ran her hands over the cold turret stone, letting her fingers play in the pocks left behind by Papa and his friends the night they’d decided to fire their pistols at a row of bottles.

  How could Dunscore have meant so little to him, when it meant so much to her?

  William joined her at the railing. “Didn’t hear you agree,” he said quietly.

  That was because she was too afraid he was wrong. It would be impossible to marry James and not lose herself to him. “If only there were some word from the committee,” she said.

  “I heard nothing before we left London. Croston himself said it was too soon.”

  “Yes. I know.” But there would be no mercy from the committee, and she didn’t expect any.

  She touched the ragged spot where an entire corner had been shot away. She would have it repaired. She would have everything repaired. Before the month was out, there would be a crew of masons rebuilding the east tower and an army of gardeners coaxing the rose garden back to life.

  The two ships were barely visible on the horizon now. A ship can only have one captain, and I prefer to be it.

  If she didn’t do something to steer herself on course, everything she’d worked so hard to gain would be crushed. She would be crushed. She needed to solidify things with Lord Deal now—today—before she lost herself completely to James.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  THE NEWS OF the committee’s decision had not yet reached Dunscore.

  It was the critical fact that pounded through James’s thoughts as he thundered across the countryside toward Deal Manor with the night’s sensations still thrumming in his blood.

  Last night had made one thing clear: he needed Katherine like a cannon needed powder. Like a sail needed wind.

  The way she’d felt in his embrace this morning—he’d wanted to renew his proposal right then and there. But he wasn’t a fool. He knew Katherine too well to believe last night had changed her mind about anything.

  That she still believed she needed to marry was his only hope for success.

  Deal Manor came into view, and a familiar feeling coursed through his veins. An old exhilaration surged up from some hidden place. His strategy unfolded before him.

  With any luck, this one confrontation would be all that was necessary.

  James dismounted outside Deal Manor, rehearsing his attack as he handed off the reins. Once Deal was no longer an option for her, his marriage to Katherine would be all but assured.

  Inside, he found Deal comfortably seated in his breakfast room. A copy of the Edinburgh Courant lay open with a scattering of crumbs dusting its pages.

  “Had an uncanny feeling I might be seeing you,” Deal said.

  “Oh?”

  Deal only smiled and gestured to the empty chair at his small table nestled in a bay of tall windows. “Please, be seated. I’ll call for an extra plate.”

  James preferred to stand, but there was no need to be an ass. “No need for the plate. I’ve already eaten.” It was a lie. Food was the last thing he could stomach this morning. A maid poured him a cup of coffee before being dismissed by Deal, and James sipped the brew even though he would have preferred something stronger. Good Scotch whiskey, for example.

  “I’ll come straight to the point,” James said. “Whatever your understanding with Lady Dunscore, I want you to break it. I am prepared to negotiate an incentive.”

  Deal took a bite of some dark bread, unperturbed save for a slight raising of his bushy brows. “And if the promise of an incentive doesn’t tempt me, you’ll resort to stronger measures, I suppose.”

  James tamped down a flare of anger. “I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

  Deal chewed his bread and took a sip of tea. “I can see now why Katherine said you were unsuitable.”

  James’s gut pitched sharply. “Katherine thinks anyone in breeches is unsuitable.”

  “But she has too volatile a nature to hide her emotions well, and when we discussed marriage it was clear her love lay elsewhere.”

  Her love. James squelched a callow urge to embark on a fishing expedition.

  “I asked her if she’d left someone behind in London—someone who’d broken her heart, perhaps—” Deal gave him a pointed look “—but she said no,
that there was nobody appropriate. Now I can see perhaps she was right. Do you really think to win Katherine by threats and bribes?”

  “I will have Katherine by whatever method it takes. Have you come to an understanding?”

  “That, Croston, is a question you should be asking her.”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “I certainly won’t deny Katherine my help, though I’ll admit I haven’t yet decided what form it should take.” There was a stubborn set to Deal’s face that James didn’t like.

  “Perhaps I can help you decide,” James said coldly. “Katherine may be carrying my child. And even were that not the case, there’s a good chance that after last night it would be.”

  Deal set down his bread and looked James in the eye. “Impertinent bastard. I would call you out for besmirching her if it wasn’t plain as day you’re besotted. A man in love deserves a measure of mercy, I suppose.”

  In love. The idea grabbed him by the throat and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

  Deal gave James a look he hadn’t received since school days. “My only question is how you plan to make her say the vows. Will you hold a pistol on her?”

  Somehow he managed to inhale. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You think to leave her no choice, is that it? Make yourself the only option? A faulty premise, my boy, as you well know. A rich estate and a beautiful countess—even a seafaring one—is bound to be a powerful lure. Been thinking of a few suggestions these past days. McGowan, for example. He’s young enough. Solid estate. Weogh wouldn’t be a bad choice, either.”

  “I’ll tell any man that tries exactly what I told you,” James said darkly.

  Deal narrowed his eyes. “You’ll ruin her in your attempt to have her?”

  He was in love.

  In love. The certainty of it snaked down on the inside of him and curled up tight.

  “I’ll do anything to have her,” he said flatly.

  Wasn’t that what a man in love was supposed to do?

  * * *