by Dinah McLeod
It is not my fault. If anyone is to blame, it is Barnabee! He deceived me! He pretended to be my friend and for what? So that he could lock me in this horrible prison, for what purpose? It was the one question she could not begin to answer, and he had not shown himself again so that she might learn it for herself.
She had tried to bang on the door again. She had yelled for help, yelled at Barnabee, screamed every imaginable thing she could think of until she was hoarse. When she had finally collapsed in tears, she barely had the strength to cry.
When she recovered, she had paced the room, looking for something, anything she might use to escape. But Barnabee had planned this part well. There was nothing but hay, the blanket, and the candle. There was not so much as a window for her to look out of. She was well and truly trapped down here with no escape.
It was hopeless. She tried to rally, but every time she did it lasted less than the time before. She felt utterly defeated and cried bitter tears until even those ran out.
When she was at her lowest, after being locked inside the horrible little broom cupboard for what felt like three days and had in reality probably been not even one, only then did Barnabee come. She knew something was different the moment he opened the door. He seemed changed, somehow. He looked the same, with the same tanned skin and slightly wild hair, but something was different.
“Hello, princess.”
Delia knew at once what it was. His voice was no longer concerned or deferential. He sounded full of nothing but contempt. She knew she must look a disgrace, with her tearstained cheeks and messy hair. But hearing him speak to her that way stiffened her spine. “I am not a princess,” she reminded him acidly.
“No, not that,” he chuckled, though what he found funny she did not know. “But close enough for a man to make a comfortable livin’, eh?”
Her brow crinkled. “I do not know what you mean.”
“No? Turns out, your parents want ya back, and are willin’ to pay a mighty sum for your safe return, too.”
The furrow in her brow deepened as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. “How do you know my parents?”
“I wouldna say I knows ‘em. I heard ya was missin’, and then, lo and behold, you ended up on the Victoria! What’re the odds? I knew it was kismet then, that I could retire on takin’ ya back to your parents. ‘Course you had to go and muck up the whole thing.” He glared at her. “I nearly lost out on my bounty just because you went and got betrothed to the captain.” Barnabee spit on the floor.
Delia rose to her feet, appalled. And that was when she knew what was different. His mask was off and she was seeing him for who he truly was. He did not care a fig for her. He only cared for himself. “You lied to me,” she stated, sure of it now.
He shrugged a shoulder. “What of it? You been lyin’ to ev’ry one. The way I see it, one good turn deserves another.”
“But... but that did not affect you. That did not hurt you! I was kind to you, I thought you were my friend! And you... you’ve...”
He laughed indifferently. “No, it didn’t hurt me, no. In fact, it will be the very thing that sets me up to retire.”
“I still don’t understand.” Her mind was whirling as she tried to make sense of this new information. “How did you... I had not even been gone that long! How did you know my parents were looking for me?”
“I have an associate,” Barnabee replied with an air of great importance. “He was sure he had seen ya board the Victoria, told me about your pa bein’ so upset and that he would surely offer a king’s ransom for your return. Which,” he smiled, “is why I call you princess, see?”
“And... what if he will not? What if he does not want me back?”
He gave her another shrug as though which way her life went was no matter to him. “See, I thought about that.” He tapped his temple. “I think of everything. And I hear that you were betrothed to the Duke of Lancaster, that’s why ya run off. So I figure if your father don’t want ya, the duke will.”
She felt faint. She reached out for something to hold onto, wincing as her fingers only connected with damp, slimy wood.
Barnabee grinned. He had her and he knew it.
“I am hungry,” she told him, trying for haughty and sounding pitiful instead.
“We will be at Baasing soon. I’ll smuggle ya off then, and get you some food then.”
“You cannot mean to starve me!”
“You’re in no danger of starvin’.” His smile was full of contempt.
“Leave,” she said, the word a hiss through her gritted teeth.
“As you wish, princess.” He gave a sweeping, elaborate bow.
In a fit of rage, she snatched up the candle and hurled it at him. He ducked neatly, laughing as it rolled on the floor and the flame flickered out.
“If ya want to be left in the dark, suit yourself.” He closed the door with a loud bang and she heard the click of the lock a moment later.
She would have screamed if she had thought it would do a bit of good.
* * *
I will die here, she thought forlornly, staring into the darkness. She did not know how long she had been here without meals or company to tell her the passing of time. She had no way of knowing if it had been mere hours since Barnabee had last come, or days. Delia had never felt afraid of the dark until it was all around her, without a single ray of light to dispel it. Every sound made her jump, At one point, she was certain she felt tiny feet scurrying across her arm, and spent the next several minutes curled in the corner, crying.
If only Miss Ashley could see her now. She was far from the heroine she had thought she would be when she boarded this vessel. What a fool she had been.
But part of her felt that she deserved the predicament she was in. After all, she had been safe and would have remained so if she had not doubted James. The thought made fresh tears of regret and despair fill her eyes when she had thought she had no more left. She had been more than safe—she had been cherished, and she had thrown it away with both hands.
This is all my fault. I wonder what he is doing now. How long has it been? Will he be looking still? What has Barnabee told him?
Knowing him, it would be something horrible. An odious lie designed to probe any weakness the admiral may have—though truthfully, she could imagine none—and expose it until it was a deep, festering wound. The thought made her pang. It was another sin to add to her list. Had she only been truthful and told him about her interactions with Barnabee, then perhaps he would have some idea of where to look for her. But no. She had insisted on protecting a monster.
She was pathetic. She deserved every moment of pain her ignorance had wrought.
When Delia heard the far-off sound of voices, she did not even stir from her dingy bed. It would only be Barnabee, come to taunt her or secret her off the Victoria so that she could be ransomed for his benefit. By the time she was returned to her family, James would be long gone, as would any hope of her ever finding him again.
For the first time in her life, all the fight had been wiped out of her. She could not find the strength to pull her off the floor.
Let him do it, she thought savagely. Let him earn every cent of the reward he hopes to claim. At least he would have to see that she got a bath first. Neither her father nor the Duke of Lancaster would believe she was who he claimed in the state she was in.
When the door opened, she moaned, bringing a hand up to her face to shield herself from the light. She had been trapped in the dark so long, it hurt her eyes.
“I found her!” a voice shouted. “She is in here!”
That made no sense. Barnabee knew good and well she could not leave. He had seen to it.
The voices got louder and there was the sound of feet pounding the floor as they rushed in. Delia turned on her side to ignore them. She could not even muster the will to try to make a scene that might attract attention.
“My lady? Please, do not be afraid.”
Was that Barnabee’s v
oice? She could not tell. Why was he trying to trick her again? What was the point? She was already defeated; she would cause no trouble for him now. She could not even if she wanted to.
Then another voice joined the first. “Can she walk?”
“How am I supposed to guess at that?”
“Well, don’t jus’ stand there. Do somethin’.”
“Honestly, you’re useless.”
Delia groaned again, bringing her hands to cover her ears and block out the voices.
“My lady? We are going to get you out of here. Can you stand?”
It was another trick. She was not going to pay it any mind.
“My lady?”
“We have to get her out of here and fast. She’s not well.”
“You don’t think I can see that?” the first voice snapped.
“All I’mma sayin’ is that if something happens... well, we want to get her to the captain so that at least if somethin’... tragic happens, we got her out alive.”
There was silence as they both seemed to consider this. Delia merely wished they would leave her alone.
“I don’ want you to be afraid, m’lady. I’mma pick you up now. Don’ worry. The captain is lookin’ for you, he’s bound and determined to find you, and we’re goin’ to take you to him.”
It was a trick. It had to be. But still, she raised her head. “James?” Her voice came out a nearly unintelligible croak.
She saw the two men exchange looks.
“James?” she repeated.
“The captain, yes, m’lady. Now, if you don’ mind I’mma pick you up now.”
Mind? How could she mind? She was powerless to stop him and did not want to bother anyway given that this was another ploy.
“Hold onto me neck now. Yes, like that. Good girl.”
Hearing words James often said to her made her body tingle with remembered emotion and it made her feel good to feel something other than despair.
“Let’s get you outta here.”
* * *
Delia slept in fits and starts though she did not know for how long. When she awoke, she had dim memories of being fed warm broth, of having her hair brushed, of the admiral’s concerned voice. But that had to be a dream, didn’t it?
She sat up, groaning at the exertion of it. Where was she? Her eyes were still groggy, but she felt stronger, if only a bit. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw that she was in her old quarters.
But... that means I can get to James! The thought lit hope inside her, warm, thrilling hope that had felt absent for much too long.
With every bit of strength she possessed, she sat up in bed and swung her legs around. Those small actions made her wince, but she must try. Who knew where they were, or how long she would be here. She had to reach him.
Delia took a tentative step onto the floor, and feeling emboldened by her success she tried to step with the other. But her legs were weak and she crumpled into a heap on the floor. “Damn it all to hell!” she swore.
“That language is most unbecoming to a lady,” a voice said.
Her head whirled and she realized for the first time that the doorway was open and she was being watched.
“Now, what did I say would happen the next time I heard you use an oath?”
Relief flooded her body in such strength that she began to cry.
He rushed toward her. “Don’t, please, don’t weep. I was only teasing—well, this time.”
She was pulled into his arms and James helped her back into bed, tucking the covers around her. “You cannot see me like this,” she croaked out weakly. “I look a frightful mess.”
“You do not,” he replied, his voice stern. “You look tired, but beautiful. You are weak, my dear. Nothing more. You will regain your strength and be my little imp again in no time.”
His words made her smile. “But... but my hair... and...” She shuddered as she remembered lying on the floor.
“I saw to your bath myself.”
Her eyes widened. “You... you did?” Oh, what must he think of her now, after seeing her in such a state?
“I did. I promised I would bathe you. Remember?”
She felt color rush to her cheeks, and even that felt good. “I remember.”
“Well, never let it be said that I am not a man of my word.”
“Never,” she agreed, with feeling. “James...”
“Yes, my love?”
“Barnabee. It was Barnabee.”
“Shh.” The admiral lifted her up in his arms and put her back into bed. He set her down with utmost gentleness and tenderly stroked her hair. “Do not get yourself worked up, sweetling. I know. He has been put in the stocks down below and when we reach Baasing, I shall have to delay our nuptials only long enough to have him arrested. Then we will be wed.”
“But... how did you know?”
His mouth became a grim line. “When you went missing we searched the ship high and low. Every one of my men was most helpful—including your friend.” His mouth twisted on the word and she winced to see it. “He assured me he had searched every room down below, and I did not think to question it. After all, he came forward and told me the truth about the uniform, and thus earned my trust.”
“Then how did you...” She trailed off, not even having the strength to complete the question.
“It took some time, as you well know.” Though his eyes were tender, his lips pressed into a thin, angry line. “I am most sorry for that, my lady, truly.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “When I had run out of all other ideas, I had each of the men brought to my study for questioning. One, my cook, whom I hear you’ve met—” His dark brows shot up in question.
Delia winced, for she had never told him that he had caught her the second time she’d escaped out of her room. “Forgive me,” she croaked.
“In any event, he had heard a most interesting plan involving a ransom demand with a princess.”
She cringed. Once upon a time, she had found stories of princesses most romantic, but she felt sure she would never look at them the same way again.
“Barnabee, when he had come to me to confess about the uniform, he slipped up and called you that. ‘Princess.’ So I felt certain he would know who had taken you. I admit, I was a bit shocked to find that it was he himself who had done it. But once he was in my quarters for questioning, it all became clear.”
“You’re very clever.” Delia felt a vicious hope that Barnabee had met the business end of the admiral’s cane.
“And meanwhile, my guards decided to search every place he had sworn to have looked.”
She lay back down against the pillows, exhausted.
“I shall let you get some rest.”
“No!” She reached out for him, desperate not to be left alone. “Please... can you not stay? If only for a little longer?”
He looked down at her tenderly for a moment before nodding and taking a seat beside her on the bed. “Of course.”
She scooted closer and laid her head on his knee. “He came to me with the most awful tales and I... I believed him.” She had never felt such shame in her life and knew that if anyone deserved a sound whipping, she was the one, for she had doubted her beloved. “I should have come to you, should have told you,” she said, her voice breaking. “If I had only given you a chance to refute the charges, then he never could have...”
“Shh. You cannot blame yourself, poppet. You know why you must be truthful with me in the future, it is a valuable lesson, even if I wish you had not had to learn this way.”
“But if I had only—”
He placed a strong finger against her lips. “Stop it, poppet. You need to get your rest so that you can regain your strength.”
“But...”
“I will not smack your bottom while you are in such a state, but I can keep a tally of what you are owed when you are well, if you like.”
There was nothing else he needed to say to silence her. Despite her weakened state, as he held her, his thumb sliding back
and forth over the back of her hand, she felt tenderness and warmth for him turn to passion and desire. “James...”
“Yes, my love?”
She gazed up at him, melted by his gentle concern for her. “I want you.”
“You have me, sweeting.”
She giggled. “No... I mean, yes, but what I mean is...” She let her hand slide lower until her fingers grazed his manhood.
He sucked his breath in, clearly pleased. “I don’t know if it’s wise in your condition.” The regret in his voice was evident.
“I want to. I will be fine, I promise. Better than. I would not say it if I didn’t mean it.”
He tilted his head, studying her as he considered.
“Please?” she added, giving him her best, most dazzling smile.
“I am in agreement, but only if you let me do all the work and provide all the pleasure.”
“But I want—”
He put a finger to her lips. “‘Tis the only way I will agree.”
Delia nodded and slid off his lap, lying back against the pillows.
Instead of beginning right away, as she’d hoped, he took his time unbuttoning his sharp blue coat that brought out the intense sapphire of his eyes. She could not help but smile—it gave her something to feast her gaze upon as he bared his toned, muscular chest. The breeches were next. As though he knew she was watching, holding her breath for the unveiling, he took his time untying his breeches, slowly lowering them inch by inch.
By the time his manhood sprang free, she was rabid with desire for him. All part of his plan, she suspected, but she was too wanton to mind much.
“Are you going to—”
“Shh, beloved. Let me make you feel better.” And then he was looming over her, gently stroking the side of her face, his fingertips stoking her desire before he pressed kisses where he had adoringly caressed her skin.
Delia exhaled the breath she’d been holding, letting go of her questions—chief among them if and when he was going to give the same loving ministrations to her throbbing sex—and giving herself over to enjoying his lovemaking. She was immediately rewarded, for all other thoughts fled and she was able to relish the sensation of his hot mouth on her skin arousing her in ways she’d once never dreamt possible.
