Captain's Bride (40 page)

Now all that might be destroyed.

He would return to find her gone, their room empty,
the fire cold. Then his heart would turn cold, too. She couldn’t
bear to think of it. Couldn’t bear to imagine the bitterness on his
face as he became more and more certain she’d betrayed him.

If only I had spoken my heart, she thought for the
hundredth time. Maybe things would be different. Maybe he wouldn’t
doubt my love. Maybe he’d wait for me.

But she hadn’t.

And in believing she had betrayed him, Nicholas would
betray her.

Glory squeezed her eyes closed against pain. She had
no choice, she told herself. Nathan was her brother. But her
husband might be lost to her, lost to her forever. No words, no
amount of justification could make up for that. Not ever.

Please, God, she prayed. You’ve always been so good
to me, given me everything I wanted—or at least thought I wanted.
Those things mean nothing to me now, not without Nicholas. Please
let him know that I love him. That I would never hurt him. He acts
so strong, and most of the time he is. But he needs me.

And I need him.

Glory cradled her head in her arms and wept for all
that she had lost—her father, her childhood, her baby. And now her
husband. She wished things could be different— and didn’t believe
for an instant they would.

“I got here just as quickly as I could. Tell me
what’s happened.” Nicholas stood in the foyer, still wearing his
overcoat.

Bradford walked up beside him. “Come. Let’s go into
the study.” Brad turned to go, but Nicholas swung him around.

“Where’s Glory? Has something happened to her?” It
was all he could do to control his voice. His heart pounded so hard
he could feel it knocking against his ribs.

“We aren’t sure, Nicholas. Please. Let’s go into the
study. I’ll pour you a brandy and tell you what’s happened.”

“What’s
happened
,” Elizabeth St. John
Blackwell called from the stairway, “is your little tart has
followed the same path as your mother. She’s run away with another
mar.”

“Mother, please,” Brad pleaded. “This is difficult
enough already.”

“I want to know what’s going on, Brad, and I want to
know now.” Darkness had fallen outside the town house, marking the
end of the third day since Nicholas had left home. Three short
days—and his world threatened to turn upside down.

“The study,” Brad repeated, and this time Nicholas
followed. Brad closed the door behind them, helped Nicholas out of
his coat, and poured him a brandy, which he accepted with a shaky
hand.

“Glory’s gone, Nicholas,” Brad said simply. “We don’t
know where.”

“How long ago?”

“After you left on Sunday, she and I took a walk in
the garden. She said she wanted some time alone, so I left her
there. I haven’t seen her since.”

Nicholas sank down on a leather chair beside the
fire. Lamplight bathed the room in a yellow glow that cast shadows
beneath Nicholas’s high cheekbones. “And Elizabeth saw her leave
with a man?”

“I don’t believe her, Nicholas. You know she’d do
anything to cause trouble between you two. She was upstairs
resting. I don’t believe she saw a thing. It’s just her way of
getting even with Glory for the other day.”

“What did she say the man looked like?” Nicholas
asked with forced control.

“Mother says she didn’t get a good look. He was tall.
That’s all she remembers.”

“Any sign of a struggle?”

“No.”

“What have you done so far?”

“I’ve sent a messenger to Tarrytown. She hasn’t
returned to the estate. We checked with the hospitals, doctors.
Nothing.”

“Have you spoken to her brother?”

“Only indirectly. His roommate said he was on an
extended field trip. He left town before Glory came up
missing.”

Nicholas took a long sip of brandy, allowing the
fiery liquid to bum its way down his throat. “What did you talk to
her about? In the garden, I mean.”

“Mostly about you. She asked about your mother and I
told her all I knew.” Brad took a drink of his brandy after warming
the snifter between his hands. Nicholas noticed the worry lines
around his mouth, the grooves creasing his brow. “The only reason I
haven’t sent for the constable is because of the gossip you two
have already suffered. More would be ruinous for Glory. I hired
someone private to look: into the matter. The best I could find. I
hope you approve.”

“That’s fine,” he said flatly.

“I won’t lie to you, Nicholas. I’m worried. I think
something’s happened to her.”

Nicholas leaned his head against the antimacassar
covering the back of his chair. “Something’s happened, all right.
She’s left me, Brad. Probably for George McMillan or some other
man.”

“I don’t believe that and neither should you. Glory
loves you. She told me so that day in the garden.”

Nicholas cocked a brow. “Is that so? Then how is it
she hasn’t told me?”

“She was going to, Nicholas. That’s what she told
me.” Nicholas released a long, ragged breath and took another sip
of his brandy. “I wish I could believe that, Brad, but I don’t. She
didn’t want to marry me in the first place. She wanted an
annulment, asked for it more than once. I guess she got tired of
asking.”

“If you believe Mother—”

“It isn’t just that.”

“What, then?”

“I just don’t think she loves me. Maybe she never
did.”

“What if you’re wrong, Nicholas? What if something
has happened to her? What if she needs your help?”

The thought squeezed his heart like a vise. He sat
quietly for a time, staring into the flames and remembering Glory’s
face. “I almost wish it were true. Almost wish something dire had
happened, that her life
was
in danger. But I know Glory. She
would never have left without a struggle. Somehow she’d have let us
know.” He finished off his brandy and rose to his feet. Picking up
his overcoat, he strode to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Nicholas. Don’t do it.
Give her some time. Find out what’s happened.”

He didn’t answer, just walked down the hall into the
foyer. Brad’s footsteps echoed behind him.

“You’re wrong,” Brad said. “And if you are, she’ll
never forgive you. Not this time.”

Nicholas’s hand paused on the heavy brass latch. He
stood there a moment, poised, his thoughts a jumble of emotion, his
heart breaking in two. Then he opened the door and headed into the
night.

“Join us for supper?” Matt Bigger asked. He stood in
the passageway just outside her door, a hopeful expression lighting
green eyes a shade darker than Glory’s dress. She knew all their
names by now. Spencer James was the thin man; Lester Fields, the
older muttonchopped man.

“I . . . I think I’ll just eat here, if you don’t
mind.”

“You been sayin’ that for days,” Bigger said. He
grinned up at her. “Surely you’re tired o’ being shut up in this
room?”

She felt her defenses weaken. Bigger looked harmless.
She judged he was only a few years older than she. His manner of
speaking put him from somewhere in the South. Still, she didn’t
trust him. There was something in his eyes . . .

“I’d like to. I really would. But I’m tired and I
have a touch of seasickness, I’m afraid.”

Stepping inside, Bigger closed the door softly behind
him. The lamp jiggled and flickered against the wall. “What you
need is someone to take care of you. A man to look out for you and
protect you.”

“I have a man,” Glory said, then wondered where her
husband was right now. She’d been gone five days. Nicholas had
surely returned from his trip by now. He’d found her gone
and
—and what
? she asked for the thousandth time.

“If you’ve been with a man,” Bigger was saying, “then
I don’ need to be so careful o’ your sensibilities.” He grinned,
teeth white, except for one a shade darker near the front. It made
him look almost boyish. “Once a woman’s been broke to the saddle,
there’s no way to tell how many riders she s carried. Whey don t
you come on over here and let me kiss you? I been told I’m real
good at kissin’.”

Glory’s heart began to pound. “Please, Mr. Bigger.
I’m a married woman.”

“Married, is it? Married ladies is my specialty.” His
hand closed around her arm, and he pulled her against him. His
fingers massaged the peak of her bosom through the bodice of her
mint-green dress. Though she tried to turn away, he held her fast
and kissed her hard. His lips felt warm, his breath tasted of
tobacco but was not unpleasant. All she could think of was
Nicholas. When his hand moved to fondle her buttocks through the
folds of her dirt-stained skirt, she jerked away.

Bigger seemed surprised. He grinned as if he found
her refusal a challenge, then stepped toward her again.

“Leave off, Matt.” Lester Fields stood in the
doorway. “She’s goods, same as the darkie. We ain’t gonna git top
money if the merchandise is damaged.”

Matt Bigger stared down at her, eyes dancing. “Might
be worth takin’ a little less to sample this sweet stuff.”

“Me and Spence got a say in this, too, and we say you
leave her alone. You can buy all the cock alley you can handle once
we git paid. Till then stay away from the girl.” Bigger released
her. “I s’pose you’re right.” He turned his attention to Glory.
“Never was one of you sweet-smellin’ prisses worth a damn in bed
nohow.” He grinned till he dimpled, exposing his dark front tooth.
“You sure did taste good, though. Lips sweeter’n hard rock
candy.”

“Come on,” Lester urged. “No use dwellin’ on it.
’Sides them boys down south kin git mighty nasty, they think you
been dickin’ one o’ their women.”

“By, darlin’,” Bigger said with a smile.

Glory shuddered as he closed the door, then rolled
the heavy wooden barrel in front of it.

Brad awoke to a pounding at the massive oak front
door. So did the rest of the household. Servants scurried into the
foyer, each trying to beat the other to the door to quiet the
raucous sound. Brad had made it only as far as the top of the
stairs when the door swung wide. Nicholas stepped inside, clothes
disheveled, black hair mussed. Several days’ growth of beard
darkened his swarthy cheeks. He took the stairs two at a time. Brad
grimaced as he passed, smelling stale alcohol—and the scent of
strong perfume.

“Where the devil have you been?” Brad demanded. “I’ve
been worried sick.”

Nicholas continued down the hall and into the room he
had occupied with Glory, Brad trailing behind.

“I said, where the devil—”

“I heard you the first time. I’ve been in half the
sleazy taverns in New York.”

“And Kristen Pedigru’s bed?”

“No.”

“Well, you certainly smell as if you’ve been in
someone’s bed.”

Nicholas stopped only long enough to throw him a
sidelong glance. “It isn’t what you think. I’ve been trying to find
out what happened to Glory. I started in the taverns, then decided
to go back to see Nathan’s roommate. After a bit of persuasion, he
showed me this.” Nicholas fumbled in the pocket of his rumpled
waistcoat, then handed Brad the poster that offered a reward for
Nathan’s capture and return to Charleston.

“My God!” Brad exclaimed.

“Nathan wasn’t on a field trip. He was headed here to
find me and get help.” Nicholas tossed several clean shirts, some
breeches, and his boots into a carpetbag. “They’ve taken her, Brad.
I’m sure of it.”

“Two days ago you were just as sure she’d left you.
What happened to change your mind?”

Nicholas snapped the latches on the bag. “After I
left here, I wandered the streets for a while, trying to clear my
thoughts, remembering your words and what happened on the strand. I
knew you were right about one thing: If I accused Glory unjustly,
she wouldn’t forgive me a second time. Still, I wasn’t sure. I
drank too much, ended up sleeping in some dingy room above the
Fraunces Tavern.

I dreamed about her all night, couldn’t stop thinking
about her, about our times together, the way she made me feel. When
I woke up, I knew she wouldn’t have just run away. She’s too damned
honest, too sincere. She’d have told me. Brad. I knew it without
the slightest doubt. After that I went to work to find out what
happened. Once I saw the reward poster, the rest was easy. I had to
bribe half the drunks in town to find out which ship she was on,
but I finally found out.” He grinned. “There aren’t many sailors
who would forget a woman like Glory.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“The
Black Witch
is in port. So’s the
Black
Diamond.
Their crews are on leave, but I found Mac, Josh
Pintassle, and Jago Dodd at the Tontine Tavern. They’ve rounded up
enough men to make way. We’ll take the
Black Witch.
She’s
the fastest. We should make Charleston damn near as fast as that
leaky tub, the
Southern Star
.

“I’ll go with you,” Brad offered.

“Not a chance. You’ve got school to think about.”
Nicholas set his jaw. “I’ll bring her back, I promise you. And
they’d better not have laid a scurvy hand on her.”

Even at night the marshes along the pine-covered
shores looked familiar. Glory felt a rush of nostalgia as she stood
on the deck, wind whipping her skirts, watching the coastline slip
by not far off the starboard rail. She’d forgotten the fragrance of
azalea that tinged the air, forgotten the warmth of the southern
breeze. If circumstances had been different, she’d have been eager
to see her home, visit family and old friends. Now all she thought
about was what would happen to Nathan once he was returned to
Summerfield Manor—and what had become of Nicholas.

Every waking hour she spent without him seemed an
eternity. Every moment of restless sleep was beset by memories,
fantasy dreams in which Nicholas appeared beside; her or kissed her
until she was breathless and warm all over.