The Secret Rose (23 page)

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll do whatever I have to do to get out of here.”

“Put it down,” he warned.

“Stay back! I won’t hesitate to use it.” Her hand trembled. She’d never been so frightened in all her life. “I won’t let you do this. You can’t take her away from me!”

A softness flashed in his gaze, the first hint that her pleas had touched him.

“Very well.” He reached in the pocket of his breeches and removed the key. “Sit down on the bed.”

“No.”

“Sit down,” he repeated. The tone of his voice issued an uncompromising demand.

With the opener still clutched in her fist, she sat on the edge of the bed.

Ethan walked to the door and put the key in the lock.

She watched with rapt attention as he turned the key and unlocked the door. He opened it just far enough to say something through the opening and turned back to her.

“Ethan, please. You mustn’t take me away from Mary Rose. She’s just a baby. She’d never understand. Please. Hate me if you must, but please, don’t take it out on her. None of this is her fault.”

He stared at her without speaking. His masked expression gave her no indication of what he was thinking. The unyielding expression on his face provided no hope.

A soft knock shattered the ominous stillness. He opened the door and stepped aside. Stella stood in the doorway with Mary Rose in her arms. Palmsworth stood behind them.

The air left Abigail’s body in a rush and she ran across the room. With a squeal of delight, Mary Rose leaned forward and flung herself into Abigail’s outstretched arms.

Abigail held the babe to her, burying her face against her, smelling the clean baby smell she’d come to love. Her heart pounded in her chest, thudding in frantic rhythm as she struggled to understand why they were here.

“Take the babe back to your cabin,” he said to Stella.

Abigail pulled her back. “No. I’ll keep her with me.”

He flashed her a look that broached no argument. “Her cabin is in the next corridor. You may see her whenever you like, but not now. You’ll stay here so we can talk.”

Abigail gave the babe over to Stella and watched the door close behind them.

She was alone with Ethan.

“You might as well make yourself comfortable.” The tone of his voice was void of emotion. “You can put your cloak and bonnet in the upright chest.”

Abigail hesitated, then untied the long satin ribbons of her bonnet and lifted it from her head. Her fingers trembled as she pulled the braided loops over each woven knot that fastened her cape, then dropped it from her shoulders.

On legs that were weak and unsteady, she walked to the wardrobe and opened the doors. Her breath caught in her throat. The dresses hanging there were hers.

She spun around to challenge him. He’d planned this down to the last detail, down to the clothes she would wear. How could she not have guessed he might do this? How could she not have seen it coming?

She opened her mouth to fire her accusations at him, but he turned away from her. With stoic dignity, he walked across the cabin to the round porthole. He stood with both hands braced on either side of the glassed opening. The bulging muscles across his shoulders and back stretched taut the fabric of his white lawn shirt. For a long time, he did not move.

Her mind spun in dizzying circles. How could she have been so foolish as to trust him? Why was she so blind to his faults?

He was no different from Stephen. Even though he’d claimed they were not cut from the same cloth, now she knew otherwise.

He lifted his head. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his arms and turned to face her. “Have you calmed?”

“Where are you taking us?”

“Nowhere in particular. The
Emerald Gold
is scheduled to deliver cargo to Lisbon, then return with a full cargo. We’re simply passengers.”

“Why?”

His lips curled upward in a grin she couldn’t even pretend resembled a smile. “You gave me little choice.”

She took a step toward him. “I didn’t ask you to kidnap us,” she said, not bothering to keep the anger from her voice. “The only choice I expect you to make is to turn this ship around and take us back. You promised you would give me the deed to Fallen Oaks in exchange for the
Abigail Rose
.”

“It’s yours. There’s a copy of the agreement on the desk.”

“Then take me home.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s no longer a possibility.”

“Why?”

When he spoke, she heard just the slightest tinge of regret mixed with his blatant resolve. “Because I didn’t know about Mary Rose when I made that promise. I refuse to condemn Stephen’s child to a life in a convent.”

“You are not condemning her. She’s loved and cared for and cherished there.”

“You’ve shut her away.”

“To protect her.”

“To keep her there as if she does not exist.”

“What would you have me do? Take her to London and expose her? Ride with her through Hyde Park as part of the five o’clock procession to show the
ton
what Stephen left behind?”

Her words stopped him. For several seconds he said nothing. When he did, his voice seemed more conciliatory. It didn’t last long.

“How long did you think you could keep her locked away? How long do you think she would have been content cloistered behind those stone walls with the sisters? Five years? Ten? Thirty? What kind of future would she have to look forward to after that?”

“Stop it. You have nothing to say in this. You’re not responsible for us.”

“That’s not so.”

His words struck her like a blow, taking the wind from her lungs. “Don’t you dare think you have a right to Mary Rose. You have no claim on either of us. She’s not yours.”

“I know. She’s Stephen’s. But Stephen is not here to care for her.”

“So you’re going to take his place?” She stared at him in disbelief.

“I won’t turn my back on her. Cambridge blood flows through her.” He slashed his hand through the air, then walked to the desk. “I won’t let you imprison Stephen’s daughter in a convent until she’s so timid and mousy she’s left with no choice but to take her vows and stay hidden behind the convent walls.”

“Ethan, listen to me. It won’t be like that. She’ll never lack for anything. I’ll give her everything she needs.”

“How?” Fury raged in his eyes. The muscles at the sides of his jaw clenched in anger. “By locking yourself away at Fallen Oaks? By condemning yourself to a future as empty as the life you’ll give your daughter?”

“If that’s what it takes! What chance does she have if Society finds out about her?”

“So you prefer to have everyone think you are so distraught over Stephen’s absence that you can’t bear to enter Society again.”

She blanched.

“Or are you?”

She didn’t like the look on his face. “Stephen has nothing to do with this.”

His laugh indicated he was incredulous at her statement. “I wish Stephen would be the innocent one in all of this. But he’s not.” He looked at her for a long moment. “Don’t you realize your plan to give up your father’s ships in exchange for Fallen Oaks would have left you destitute?”

“I’d have survived. I’d have done whatever it took to provide for Mary Rose.”

“Including prostituting yourself to do it.”

She felt as if she’d been slapped. She remembered her offer and wanted to turn her face away from him in shame. Instead, she lifted her chin and glared at him. “Yes. Even that.”

“Perhaps in the end that is what it will take.”

She paused. She was afraid where this was taking her. “What do you mean by that? What are you going to do?”

“Exactly what I planned to do all along. I’m going to make you my wife.”

The air left her lungs. Surely he wasn’t serious? She shook her head. “No.”

“Captain MacDonnell will perform the ceremony. Don’t worry. He has the authority. Our marriage will be legal and binding. I’ve brought the papers to prove it.”

“I can’t marry you.”

“You have little choice in the matter, Abigail. I’ve Mary Rose now. If you want to be a part of her life, you’ll become my wife.”

She reached for the corner of the wardrobe. How could she marry a man who would hate her when he found out what she’d done? Marrying him would only be the start of her problems. At least now she had a claim to Mary Rose. Once they married, he’d find out her claim to Stephen’s child was no more binding than his.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t you think I care enough for you to want to marry you?”

She wanted to laugh. Of course he didn’t care for her. Just like Stephen had not cared for her, but had only wanted her for her dowry.

“No. I don’t think you care for me. You care for the precious Burnhaven dynasty Stephen nearly lost, and will do anything to protect it from scandal and ruin. You care for Stephen and will do the same as you have done your whole life. The only action your conscience allows you to do.”

“And what is that?” He lifted his dark brows as if daring her to come up with a believable answer.

“Protect Stephen from himself. Protect him with a blind loyalty that allows him to continue his careless, irresponsible behavior. Allow him to become more dependent on you. Protect him from losing everything your father and his father before him worked to pass down to him. You can’t abide watching him answer for the mistakes he made, or be accountable for his own errors in judgment, or take responsibility for the reprehensible lifestyle he lived.

“You’re not even close.”

“Then, pray tell, why would you consider marrying me?”

“Because I want Mary Rose. I want to give her all the things you can’t. I want her to have a real family and not the dismal existence you would force on her. And I want your ships. Marriage is still the only way to be assured I’ll keep them. And—”

He stopped, the midnight blue of his eyes nearly black with intent, warning her how dangerous he could be. “And I want you.”

She stared at him, unable to believe she’d heard him right. He couldn’t want her. He did not know what she’d done.

“No, you don’t.”

His lips curved upward in a painful smile. “Why, Abby? Why do you think I can’t want you? What is it you think you’ve done that is so heinous it can’t be forgiven? Mary Rose?” He held out his hands, his palms upward. “That makes no difference.”

“You don’t understand.”

“What? Another secret you’re keeping from me?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me. Let me help you. Share your secrets so they can no longer come between us.”

She shook her head. “This can’t be fixed.”

He turned to the door, as if her concerns were inconsequential. “Then we’ll marry and fix it later.”

She fought past the painful vice tightening inside her breast. “And if I refuse?”

“You will lose Mary Rose.”

She couldn’t believe he’d threaten her like this.

“You may leave the ship at any time. I’ll drop you at the nearest port the moment you say you want to leave. You may go with my blessing, and Mary Rose and I will sail on without you.” He smiled. “But if you leave, I promise you’ll never see her again.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“Oh, but I do. The child stays with me.”

Her blood ran cold. All she’d ever tried to do was protect Mary Rose. Now, she was in greater danger of losing her than ever.

She looked into Ethan’s face and searched for a hint of the compassion and caring he’d shown her before. But his hardened look came back to her filled with resolve and resignation. He left her no choice. And he knew it. He knew she’d never leave Mary Rose. He knew she’d never go back without her. He knew in the end he’d get both the child and the ships.

She studied his face. If she saw a hint of gloating, she’d be able to hate him. Instead, she saw only sadness in his eyes. And regret.

She thought hard to find a way to protect herself. The thread connecting her to Mary Rose was so fragile. Marrying Ethan would weaken that thread even more. Then he would discover her deepest secret. The one she could never let him know.

She made one more attempt. “I’ll give you—”

“Enough of your bargains, Abby. I have the child. If you want to be a part of her life from this day on, you’ll consent to become my wife. The choice is yours.”

“Damn you!”

He laughed—a harsh, bitter laugh that seemed inanely hollow. “Yes, Abby. I’m no doubt damned, and you haven’t left me with even one way to save myself. From the moment we met, your secrets have been my undoing. Your stubborn independence and self-reliance my Achilles’ heel.”

“I told you from the start I couldn’t marry you.”

“You still don’t have to.” He lifted the corners of his mouth in a mocking grin. “You may leave any time you want.”

She leveled every bit of her anger and disappointment against him. “You know you haven’t given me a choice.”

“But I have. You may leave. But if you stay,” he continued, “there will be no more secrets. Do you hear me? None.”

Gnarled fingers of dread clamped around her heart. How could she promise him that? Marriage to him would reveal an even bigger secret. The secret she’d guarded as carefully as she’d guarded Mary Rose.

“What have you decided? Shall we marry? Or should I issue orders for Mac to dock at the next port?”

Every nightmare she’d ever had flashed before her, suffocating her, stealing the breath from her body. What choice did she have? She could never give up Mary Rose. She could never go back to England alone.

Ignoring the lead weight that pressed painfully against her heart, she turned to him as if she were not alone and unsure and terrified, but as if she had a legion of soldiers at her back to validate her demand. “If it’s my ships you want, they are yours. I’ll marry you.”

He had no reaction, as if he’d known all along that would be her answer.

“But I’ll never be your wife.”

A slow, sardonic smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “You refuse to offer me the body Stephen so freely enjoyed?”

Her cheeks burned with fiery heat. “If you choose to bed me, it will be by force.”

“Then you have nothing to fear, Abigail. I’ve never had to force a woman to open her arms for me in the past, and I don’t intend to begin the practice with my own wife.”