Shipmate: A Royal Regard Prequel Novella (10 page)

She would have sobbed, but the wind was
knocked from her lungs.

“Will come a time,” her father continued,
“Holsworthy will get a letter from me, and whatever it says, I’ll
expect you to support my claim. Are we clear on that,
Lady-Bloody-Holsworthy?” His blows to her chest and shoulders were
timed with the rhythm of his tirade.

She nodded and squeaked, “Yes, Papa.”

Jeremy leaned in close to her ear and said,
“You can sail ten times the world over to get away, but don’t
forget you are leaving the people you love back here in England. Do
not think I will not stoop to do harm to our lovely cousin should
you not comply, for the Firthleys and I still have a score to
settle.”

Jasper motioned to John. “Do you not wish to
give your sister something to remember you by?”

John shrugged, but didn’t come closer.

“Such a molly you are, boy!” Jasper took a
sharp jab directly atop the first bruise, between her breasts,
knocking her wind away again.

John stepped between her and Jasper, and
said, “I will give her something to remember me by.” He turned and
gave her a kiss on the cheek and a rough hug, murmuring in her ear,
“I wish you happy, Sissy. You can’t know how much.” He turned back
around, his arm draped over her shoulder.

“Leave off, you two. Holsworthy’s bought her
on paper, so it is his merchandise you are damaging. Do you think a
sharp cit is going to pay as much for broken stock, when he hasn’t
already delivered the coin? Go to the taproom and drink yourselves
stupid, and I’ll take Sissy back to her room.”

Inexplicably, the other men complied, with
only one last shove from her father and a last threat from Jeremy:
“You’d better hope Holsworthy’s solicitor pays promptly.”

Both men were well on their way back to the
inn before John took one step from the clearing, the two youngest
Smithsons silently staring after their elders. When they were
finally out of sight, John stuck out his arm in a courtly gesture.
Bella’s hand inched up to curl around his elbow.

As was his way, John tried to keep the
conversation light and soothing, though Bella knew the lilt in his
voice was hard-won. “This will be my last chance to offer you
advice, as your elder, wiser brother, and so you must take heed of
all I say.”

Bella smiled and glanced up at him. “And why
should I wish to leave you with a false idea of your influence?”
She poked him in the side to give the tease to her words, and he
smirked back at her, but his eyes were not at all humorous.

“You will do well to listen, sweeting. You
are boarding a ship filled with sailors, Sissy, and while I can’t
stop it, I can’t think it wise. Just recall, if you will, what I
taught you in the barn in Evercreech, the night before your first
trip to London. Any man makes improper advances, you plant your
knee in his cods without delay.”

“John!”

“Promise me.”

She sighed, but agreed, “Yes, John. I
promise. I’m sure Lord Holsworthy would wish it.’

After a few moments of tense silence between
them, she added, ‘I beg you give that same lesson to Angel
Bairstowe, before she finds herself alone in a room with
Jeremy.’

John gave her a half-grin and waved off her
concern. ‘He loves her, Sissy. He’ll not lay a finger on her. If
Miss Bairstowe marries him, she will be the most pampered wife in
Christendom.”

“If she marries him, her life will be as
miserable as Mama’s and mine, and I am afraid of what he might do
to secure her hand.”

“He’s different with her, Sissy.”

She bit her lip for the space of four steps,
but finally said, “I pray you never learn to be as hard and cold as
Jeremy.” A few steps later, they reached the end of the upstairs
hallway. “You have to leave me here, John. Charlotte is in my room,
and if she’s awake… well… it will be difficult enough to explain
why I am not there.”

He nodded. “Sissy, I really do—”

She held her hand up over his mouth. “Stay
out of card games and brothels and taverns and Papa’s tin mine. You
are a better man than that, John. And for heaven’s sake, don’t be
drawn into Jeremy’s obsession with vengeance against Charlotte, for
Firthley will kill the next Smithson who poses a danger to his
family, not just blood him and give him the cut direct. Father
threatens you with Newgate, yet the path he asks you to walk will
lead right there.”

He shrugged. “Only if we’re caught.”

“You will be caught, John, if it is the last
thing Charlotte’s father and husband do. Have you any notion what
lengths they will travel to protect Charlotte, and how many
thief-takers their combined fortunes can buy? It cannot be long
now.”

He grasped her arm firmly, but not
painfully, his face blanching. “Do you know something, Sissy? Have
they found something?” Suddenly, he hand convulsed, drawing a yelp
from her as her own hand flew to try to claw his now-bruising
fingertips away. “It was you! You told Effingale whatever you
learned from listening at keyholes. Probably have Holsworthy’s
money behind it, too, so he can save himself the coin he promised!
It’s only waiting until you leave to ruin the rest of us.”

She didn’t confirm or deny it, only said,
“Pray, confess yourself to Uncle this night and beg his counsel. He
will help you, if you ask it. He knows you never asked to be
Father’s accomplice.”

He looked away, refusing to look into her
eyes, until, squaring his shoulders, his usually facile face
stone-cold, he turned back. “I confess nothing,” he spat through
gritted teeth, glaring. With a snarl, he shoved her away and
growled, “I never thought you would betray me when I let you go
free that night. You might have ended a drunken bawd, but for me,
not been raised to the peerage and married into a fortune.” He
raised the back of his hand to her, but slowly lowered it again at
her flinch. “I always expected Father might send me to the gallows,
if only to save his own neck, but I never thought it would be you.
You’d better hope I don’t know something that will see you hanged
with the rest of us.”

He strode down the hall without saying
goodbye, and after he turned the corner, she took the few steps to
her door and slipped inside the room.

***

The lamp on the bedside table slowly
illuminated. “I’d like to think you were having a tryst with Lord
Holsworthy because you have fallen in love, but I think it too much
to ask. Where were you the night before your wedding?”

“I’m finally tired, Charlotte. Can I not
just lie back down?” Bella removed and hung her cloak and the gown
she had thrown on over her nightrail before she left the inn.
“Should you not be in your husband’s bedchamber, not mine?”

“As though I would allow you to spend this
night alone. Where did you go?”

Bella pulled back the covers on the bed and
prepared to slide in next to Charlotte, but when she twisted wrong
and winced, Charlotte asked, “What is it?”

Bella’s eyes slid to the side, and Charlotte
sat up straighter. Her sharp eyes traveled from Bella’s messy hair
to her shaking hands, to the spots of high color surely blazoning
her cheeks. “They are here, aren’t they? I knew Uncle Jasper
wouldn’t just leave you alone. And one of them hit you.”

Charlotte threw back the bedclothes, ready
to storm the door, but Bella said, “Stop, Charlotte. You knew my
father would appear with his hand out for the bride price. You all
agreed to let things rest until after we sail.” Bella lowered
herself to the mattress and tucked her feet underneath the quilt.
“Get back in bed. Beginning tomorrow, I will be subject to no one’s
will but my husband, his God, and his investors. I will be out of
my father’s reach forevermore.”

Slowly, Charlotte returned to the bed,
tucking her legs underneath her and leaning against the headboard.
“Do you have wounds that need tending?”

Bella stretched her stiff shoulders. “No.
Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You should tell Papa and Lord
Holsworthy.”

“Everyone will discover the Smithsons are
here in the morning, if they turn up for breakfast, and I daresay
Lord Holsworthy will uncover my bruises before the ship reaches
open sea. By then, it will be too late for him to return me as
defective.”

“Defec—? You. Are. Not. Defective.”
Charlotte hugged Bella tightly, inadvertently pressing against the
new bruises until Bella hissed a breath through her teeth.
Charlotte jerked back. “I’m so sorry, dearest. I wasn’t
thinking.”

“You will say nothing to anyone, for I will
not have my only chance to escape them cry off at the last minute.
Especially when it will make my father want to take his lost funds
from my hide.”

Charlotte smoothed Bella’s nightrail. “Are
you not… well… you do not seem nervous. I was anxious as a cat, and
so is every bride I have ever seen.”

Bella let her head fall onto her cousin’s
shoulder. “I am resigned, Charlotte, and not unhappy. Lord
Holsworthy is kind and thoughtful and will be a good husband. He
believes I have some unfulfilled promise, which is an appealing
notion, though I don’t really credit it. And he removes me entirely
from my father’s sphere.” She grasped Charlotte’s hand. “You, on
the other hand, will still be very much nearby. Be careful,
Charlotte, and make sure Lord Firthley knows how low the Smithsons
might sink. Jeremy does not drop a grudge.”

“Do not be ridiculous. I will be perfectly
fine. My husband has drawn your brother’s blood once; he will tear
Jeremy’s throat out should he take one step toward me, and my
father and Bow Street are no longer looking the other way where the
Smithsons are concerned. Soon enough, all of your male relatives
will be in Newgate or hung.”

Bella dropped her face into her hands. “They
cannot have believed their schemes would prosper forevermore. I
have been blessed to be raised more Amberly than Smithson, but it
is by God’s grace I will be married and away from here, not dragged
to prison by association. Is it wrong I should feel my marriage a
reprieve?”

“Not wrong! Exactly right. Lord Holsworthy
is a relative unknown, to be sure, but you cannot do worse than
remain under your father’s control. He is a good man, by all
accounts, and he has done well by you in the settlements,”
Charlotte reassured her, though Bella needed no reassurance about
her course. “The worst anyone can say is he is too puritanical, but
I will not feel sorry for wishing you, of all people, a husband
free of vice. I have never been happier about anything than Lord
Holsworthy needing a bride.”

Bella nodded. “I am… more contented than I
would have expected, given the circumstance. And grateful. And
while I want children with all my heart, I do not relish a return
home for my confinement. I hope to never see England or any
Smithson male again.”

Charlotte let out a tiny, ladylike giggle.
“Do you know, we did manage the impossible. Or so my mother would
say.” Bella raised a brow. “We both snared husbands before your
wretched father and brothers found a way to destroy the entire
family.”

May 27,
1805

On Board the Amelia

Watching the pier grow smaller by the
league, the Effingales, Firthleys, and Amberlys almost too small to
see, waving, Bella stared over the side of the Amelia, the ship
that was now her home, fingers curved tightly around the railing,
grasping at any last semblance of balance. Beside her, Lord
Holsworthy—no, Myron—placed his hand over hers, squeezing the
fingers gently. Neither said a word, but when a tear rolled down
her cheek, he brushed it away with his thumb, and curled a
comforting arm around her shoulders. They had never stood so close
together, but she hid her face in his shoulder, sobbing, “I’ll
never see them again. They are my only family.”

And truly, they must be, as no Smithson had
made an appearance at the wedding. Bella could blame her sudden
dizziness on the rocking of the ship, but it might as easily be her
sense of giddy relief. She had escaped her father, her brothers,
and the mess they were about to make of things. Bella thought she
had caught a glimpse of John at the docks, from the height of the
bo’sun’s chair being brought up the side of the ship, but by the
time she could steady herself for a good look, the man was
gone.

No one had appeared to take her to Newgate,
nor had her own family’s downfall played out before her eyes. The
reprieve inherent in watching the coastline be swallowed up in the
horizon, when crossed with the despair of leaving so many people
she loved in so much danger, left her in tears.

“Ah, ah, my dear. Now, that is not true.” He
chucked her under the chin, looking into her watery eyes. “As you
now have me to call family, and soon a babe, should the Lord be
willing.” He kissed her forehead when she nodded, quickly hiding
against his sleeve once more, letting him stroke her hair the same
way John had when they were both younger, before their father had
pitted his children against one other as best he could.