‘As a wedding gift.’ Gridley gave her a mocking bow. ‘The place will be ours, after all.’
‘It will be Dryden’s,’ Emma corrected. ‘He owns fifty-one per cent and you’ve already promised me his life.’
‘You ask for too much, Emma.’ Gridley reached out a boot and kicked Ren in the stomach, laughing when Ren groaned. ‘I have let you bargain for your lover. I didn’t need to allow that. I could simply have taken you. You can’t stop me.’ As if to prove it, he lunged for her across their circle.
His sudden movement took her by surprise. She was no match for the weight of him in motion. Emma went down, crying out as Gridley landed on top of her. She struggled, kicking with her feet, jabbing with her knees, her hands. But Gridley was stronger. He got her hands, imprisoning them in his grip. ‘Come hold her, Devore.’
‘Not man enough for me?’ She spat at Gridley, earning her cheek the back of his hand.
‘Hellcat!’ Gridley’s eyes were dark with lust and anger as he straddled her in the mud.
Devore was there, laughing as he took her hands and stretched them over her head. ‘You’ve got a live one, Arthur. Are you sure this is the one you want?’
She kicked out against at Gridley, not giving him a chance to answer. ‘What do you get out of this, Devore?’
‘I’ve already got it. Sugar prices will go high and that’s all I wanted.’
She’d liked to have spat on him, too. But he was above her head, out of range. ‘You disgust me. What sort of man thinks sugar prices are worth watching a woman being raped, a home burned, a man nearly killed?’
‘It’s hardly rape. He’s going to marry you. Consider this your engagement. Besides,’ he chuckled malevolently, ‘you promised him. I think it’s time you started holding up your end of the agreement.’
Gridley reared back, his hand working the flap of his trousers. ‘You did promise, my dear. I’ve let the Englishman live, but perhaps I should reconsider. A shot to the knee would hurt and it might convince you to keep your word. Do you have her, Hugh?’ He rose up slightly, reaching around for his pistol. ‘I don’t think Dryden will thank you much for a permanent limp.’
‘No!’ Emma screamed. Gridley was absolutely over the edge of sanity. A leg wound could finish Ren. ‘Don’t do it, don’t.’ She sobbed.
Gridley laid the gun down, his attention back on her. ‘Don’t what, my dear?’
‘Don’t, please.’ Emma gritted her teeth. She hated to beg, hated to be helpless. But only helplessness would save Ren.
‘And?’ Gridley ran a finger down her jaw. Her skin crawled.
‘I’ll be good,’ she said meekly.
‘That’s more like it, isn’t it, Hugh? Now where were we? Ah, yes, I was just about to share intimacies with you and you were going to let me and Devore was going to be my best man and watch.’
* * *
Ren pushed up to his hands and knees, his vision a blur, his head pounding. But he could hear perfectly well, enough to know Emma was in danger, that Gridley had her, that she’d bargained herself down to the rudest denominator to save him.
Mud squished between his hands as he inched forward. They were paying no attention to him. Devore and Gridley were far too intent on degrading Emma. He just needed a few more feet and enough strength to launch himself at Gridley. What happened after that hardly mattered as long as he pulled Gridley off her in time.
Emma was sobbing. He tried to hurry. She must be terrified, it was her nightmare come to life, the fear that Gridley would destroy her. Every inch he crawled was agony, his head splintering with the movement. What a terrible job he’d done protecting her.
Devore and Gridley were making crass jokes. Devore’s hands were clamped around hers, keeping her still. Ren’s vision cleared. He saw Gridley handle himself, his other hand between Emma’s legs.
That was when Ren leapt. With a roar, he used the momentum of his body to knock Gridley to the side. He got an arm around Gridley’s neck but Gridley wasn’t ready to go easily. He wrestled, trying to break the chokehold. Mud covered them both, making any grasp slippery.
Gridley got away once, scrambling through the mud on all fours, but Ren reached out blindly for his ankle and pulled him back down. Gridley yelled for Devore to do something. Ren yelled for Emma to run. He was fuelled by anger, powered by vengeance for Emma, for Merrimore, for Sugarland. He would kill Gridley if he had the chance and damn the consequences.
But Emma wouldn’t run. He heard Emma’s voice. ‘Get away from them!’ It took a moment to register her meaning. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emma level the pistol at Devore. Ren felt his strength begin to fail, adrenaline notwithstanding. He had to end this soon or Gridley would end him.
A shot rang out and Devore crumpled, grabbing his leg, swearing. The noise was enough for Gridley to disengage, half crawling, half running to Devore’s side. Ren staggered to his feet, stumbling to Emma.
Gridley roared, ‘You bitch, you’ve shot him!’ He lunged at Emma, but a voice brought him up short.
‘Emma didn’t shoot him. I did. It’s about time, too.’
Ren looked beyond Gridley. Kitt Sherard strode forward, water streaming from his hair as he pushed Gridley out of the way with a hard, careless shove. ‘I’ve got another pistol, Ren. Anything you want to shoot?’ Kitt handed the butt end of a pistol to him. ‘I heard Gridleys are in season.’
‘Miss Ward, if I may?’ Kitt took the shaking pistol Emma held and trained it on Gridley and Devore, not that Devore was much threat, Ren noted, following suit with the other gun. Kitt’s shot had incapacitated him. ‘Shall we shoot them now, Ren, and put them out of their misery or should we make them wait for justice?’
‘You can’t prove anything,’ Gridley snarled. ‘Your word is nothing, Sherard, not against mine. You’re nothing but a pirate fancied up on money.’
‘Then perhaps we’ll just shoot you,’ Ren put in, gesturing with the pistol. He wouldn’t mind doing it if it meant he could lie down with Emma and assure himself she was all right.
‘You never know what kind of proof might turn up. There was talk in town,’ Kitt said slowly. ‘If I were you, I’d get on my horse, ride home and consider how lucky I feel: lucky enough to stay and stand trial, or lucky enough to find a boat out of here.’
That did it. Ren watched grimly as Gridley got Devore up on a horse and the two men left, shouting threats and obscenities at Sherard, who just laughed and fired a warning shot over the top of the retreating horses to speed them on their way. After they were gone, Kitt laid down his gun and looked around. ‘What a mess. Fire, mud, rain—an absolute tropical disaster.’
Ren was more worried about Emma than the aftermath of the fire and rain. ‘Kitt, all this can wait, get us home.’ Beside him, Emma swayed on her feet. Ren moved to catch her, sweeping her up in his arms, but unsteady on his own feet. He would have fallen if Kitt hadn’t caught his elbow.
Kitt shot him a grim look. ‘There’s no guarantee there’s any home there.’
‘Better to find out now.’ Ren gave a grunt and hoisted Emma up on to the seat of the gig. He would drive and Kitt would ride beside them. He was not looking forward to the effects the road would have on his head. But he was looking forward even less to extending that journey five miles back into Bridgetown if the house was gone.
‘I did bring help,’ Kitt told him as they set out. ‘I ran into some of the workers on the road and organised them. If the house is still there, there will be assistance.
‘Did you really hear rumours in town? How did you know to come?’ Talking took Ren’s mind off his own pain.
‘I went to the hotel, hoping to catch you before you left. I had some papers for you to sign with the quartermaster. The clerk at the desk told me you’d gone. That was when someone in the lobby mentioned in not such nice tones that there was a bit of
surprise waiting for you. I set out immediately. By then, the smoke was clearly visible. I knew you were in trouble.’
‘I don’t know what we would have done without you.’ Ren paused. ‘I never saw Devore, never heard him. One moment I was surveying the fire, the next moment I was out.’ Beside him, Emma’s head flopped on to his shoulder. She felt warm. Ren reached a hand out to her forehead. ‘Kitt, she’s hot.’ Anxiety laced his voice. His mind filled with the horrid images. The mud, the rain, that bastard Gridley forcing her down into the mire until she’d been soaked with it. He could do nothing but tuck a blanket more firmly around and get her home, if there was one.
* * *
It hadn’t seemed that far to the still from the house, but now the drive back seemed interminable. They turned the last corner and Ren held his breath. They needed a miracle right about now. Kitt cantered up ahead. ‘Can you see it?’ Ren called out.
Kitt turned in the saddle, a smile on his face. ‘It’s still there. The wind changed in time.’
At the house, Ren insisted on carrying Emma upstairs while Kitt called out orders for two baths. Hattie, Emma’s maid, was back as were a handful of the footmen and the cook. Everyone was eager to have something to do in the face of the disaster, especially when there was so much that couldn’t be done. One quick glance out windows confirmed just how close the fire had come. Another five hundred yards would have cost them the house.
He laid Emma down on the bed, mud and all. ‘Ren,’ she murmured. She tried to sit up. ‘Ren, the house?’
‘We’re there now. The house will be all right.’ He pushed a hank of wet hair out of her face. ‘Lie back and let us take care of you. Hattie’s here, I’m here, there’s a bath coming.’
‘Ren, I’m hot.’
‘I’ll take care of that, too. A bath will work wonders.’ He placed a soft kiss on her forehead as her eyes closed again.
Hattie bustled into the room with towels and disapproval, shooing him out. ‘I’ll take care of her from here. It’s not right you seeing her without her clothes on and you need a bath, too. Mr Kitt has it all ready for you in your rooms.’
‘I’m going to marry her,’ Ren protested. He didn’t want to leave her, didn’t want to make the long trek back to his rooms. The garçonnière seemed farther away than ever.
Hattie smiled patiently at him. ‘Of course you are. But not today, so off with you. You can see her once you’re both cleaned up.’
Ren took one last look at Emma, so pale, so limp on the bed, so unlike her usual self. ‘I’ll be back. Soon.’ He’d have his bath and then he’d move his things into the room across the hall. He was done living in the garçonnière.
‘Everything will be fine.’ Hattie assured him.
* * *
When Ren returned, much later than he would have preferred, everything was not fine. Emma was asleep, cheeks flushed, skin hot to the touch. There was no doubt of a fever now. Hattie and another maid were bent over her, working busily with cool rags and urging her to sip tea.
‘It’s willowbark tea. It’ll bring the fever down,’ Hattie said over her shoulder, barely sparing him a look.
Ren nodded, feeling helpless. ‘What can I do?’
‘You can keep yourself well,’ Hattie said tersely. ‘There’s going to be plenty that needs doing and Miss Emma can’t do it. I don’t want her worrying about this place when she needs to be worrying about herself and getting through this.’
As if on cue, Kitt quietly appeared in the doorway. He, too, had cleaned up and was dressed in a spare shirt and trousers of Ren’s. ‘She’s right, Ren. Come with me. There’s nothing you can do in here. But there are plenty of ways you can be useful to Emma out here.’
Ren reluctantly had to admit Kitt was right. The best way he could help Emma was to help Sugarland. They used the rest of the daylight to survey the damage. The fields were charred. The home farm would need to be entirely rebuilt, the vegetable gardens lost. Ren pushed a hand through his hair at the end of their tour. The house was intact, the still was safe, but Sugarland was no longer self-sufficient. All their food supplies would have to be brought in from Bridgetown at great expense. There’d be plenty of work, but that meant wages and that meant feeding mouths, more expenses. ‘The totals are a bit staggering, a bit alarming.’ Ren shook his head, but there was no question of not rebuilding. He’d simply have to find a way.
Kitt nodded. ‘I can advance you funds if you need it. I have a nice bit set aside.’
‘All right. We might need that.’ Ren smiled gratefully at his friend.
‘We?’ Kitt elbowed him.
‘She’s going to marry me. I asked her this morning.’ The morning seemed ages ago, full of sunshine and promise. Now the estate was in ruins and Emma lay sick upstairs. ‘I promised her she’d be safe with me. That promise didn’t last very long.’
‘What happened today wasn’t your fault, but I think you could finish Gridley for good if you wanted to.’
Ren nodded absently. ‘I was thinking the same thing. This island isn’t big enough for the both of us. Emma and I can’t stay if he’s here. Emma would never be safe and I don’t think Gridley is in his right mind.’ He cocked his head at Kitt. ‘I’d like to put him on trial for arson.’
Kitt grinned. ‘I think we could do that and more. I asked around like you wanted. The magistrate is definitely not in Gridley’s pocket. They had a run-in a few years back. We can get a fair trial. I can find the man from the hotel. If you can find anything in Merrimore’s papers about Gridley, that would help prove there’s motivation.’
‘I already have.’ Ren told him about the journal. ‘There’s likely to be more.’
Kitt rocked back on his heels, considering. ‘I know you’d like to do this legally, Ren, and we could see it done, but it wouldn’t hurt to push Gridley a bit, scare him. I think he’d flee if he feared your righteous anger. Devore might even go with him. The others will not be a problem, those two are the ringleaders.’
There was merit to that. Gridley would not tolerate being ruined and Ren had no qualms about putting the choice, as it were, to Gridley. He would build his case, present it to Gridley and Gridley could decide how he wanted to deal with it. Goodness knew he’d have plenty of time on his hands while he sat beside Emma because he wasn’t leaving her tonight. He was going to put her world back together. He’d promised, come hell or high water.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hell came first. The fever would not abate. It was supposed to be a quick case of getting warm after a chill, but by the next day the fever had grown worse, not better. Willowbark tea and cold rags had little effect. Ren sat with her when she was awake, feeding her spoonful after spoonful of tea and broth, talking about the estate, offering every reassurance that all would be well. But she was listless and said very little.
‘You should think about the wedding.’ Ren tried a last attempt to engage her. ‘What kind of dress do you want? What sort of flowers? We can marry as soon as you’re up and about. This time next month, we could be husband and wife.’ He wanted that more than anything, more than he wanted to see Sugarland reclaimed from ash, more than he wanted Arthur Gridley to pay for what he’d done. He wanted it with an intensity that surprised even him, which only magnified his frustration over his inability to control the fever.
Emma rolled her head on her pillow, ‘No, Ren. You can’t marry me, not now.’ Her voice was hoarse and tired, but it was the most response he’d had from her in a day, just not the response he was hoping for. ‘Gridley will never leave us alone.’ The words came out one by one, her throat struggling to work. ‘I will not risk you. He will come for you again until he succeeds.’
Ren gripped her hand, so hot, in his own. ‘I will take care of Gridley and Devore and the rest if need be. They will no longer define the scope of your happiness.’ He was sick of them, sick
of what they’d done to her long before he’d arrived.
‘Ren, I won’t allow it. I release you from your promises.’ Her voice was soft now as her energy faded. Her eyes closed and she slipped her hand from his. Her eyes fought their way open one more time. ‘Ren.’ Her voice was so quiet he barely heard.
He bent close with a smile that betrayed none of his concern. It was almost as if she was vanishing before his eyes. ‘What is it, Em?’
‘I love you.’
‘I love you, too.’ He kissed her forehead, unsure if she’d heard him. It occurred to him he had not said the words before, not to her, not to any woman, and he’d not uttered them reflexively in response to her own. Suddenly it mattered very much that she had heard him, that she knew she was the first and only woman who’d claimed that calibre of affection from him. He meant those words to the core of his being.
‘Emma?’ He shook her by the shoulders gently in an attempt to rouse her. No answer, no response, not even a physical resistance of her body against being shaken. ‘Em? Answer me.’ I release you from your promises, I can’t allow it, I can’t risk you, I love you. Her words echoed in his mind. She couldn’t force him to accept those dictates, couldn’t control him. But she could... No. A cold wave of fear swept him, the reality of what she meant to do becoming clear. She meant to set him free by slipping away, simply letting go and letting the fever take her.
‘Em, no! You stay with me, do you hear?’ Ren was vaguely aware he was yelling. Hattie was in the room, Kitt on her heels. ‘We’re losing her. We need more rags, more tea, more everything!’ Ren roared. His gaze landed on Kitt. ‘Get the guns. We’re going to Gridley’s. This ends today.’ It would all end today one way or another. Emma wouldn’t last, wouldn’t let herself last unless she had a reason, unless she knew Gridley couldn’t hurt them any more.
Ren cast a last glance at Emma. ‘We’ll be back in a few hours, Hattie. Don’t, um, let her go anywhere.’
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