Once Upon a Midnight Sea (13 page)

My Dear Son,

I pray this letter gets to you so that I can unburden my heart before I meet my end. For many years I believed the best favor I could do was remain banished from your life, but as I reach my old age I start to look back on events with a different eye. Such is the curse of old men, I suspect. Please, I beg of you, if this letter reaches you, read it in entirety before you burn it. I wish only to tell you how wrong I was in abandoning you, in believing the lies your mother told me, and in so quickly and impulsively surrendering what may have been a beautiful life together. But I do not write to ask your forgiveness. I do not deserve it. I led a life of sin, and I have only myself to blame for losing what I now realize mattered most.

I am guilty, I did rob the innocent whose only misdeed was to be rich. I now realize that with the love of my son I was the richest man in the world, and I robbed myself of that. It is my true crime, and to look at my situation, the irony is that I am being punished for it.

I was a foolish young man, and when my partner and I found ourselves in the clutches of the gendarmes, I acted impulsively. I was scarred by your mother's claim that you were not my son, and in sacrificing myself I believed I was doing a favor by freeing her to be with the man she loved; the man she claimed was truly your father. But as I look back and imagine the unique jade color of your eyes, the dimple in your cheek that is now undoubtedly more pronounced, the way your hair could never be tamed of that unruly flip by your ears, I have not a single doubt that you are my flesh and blood
.

Adriana took a deep breath to sooth away the choking sensation in her throat. His father hadn't seen him since Christian was a six-year-old boy, but he had described him perfectly.

If I could change my fate, I would, for nothing other than to see your face once again. I endure the long, hot days in the steamy, mosquito infested misery of tiny
Île du Diable
, living out my punishment. My sentence is not as much handed down by the French government as it is by God, for death would be more merciful than this. I have survived the anguish of solitary confinement, the misery of dysentery and the curse of Malaria, all so that I can exist on in the agony of my crimes.
Île du Diable
is aptly named, for it is truly Hell, even if the Devil himself has turned his back on it. It is only this year that I have been put from St. Joseph to the small island of political prisoners where convicts are allowed certain freedoms and I am able to write this letter. I hope that you will learn the truth, as you so deserve. From what is left of my heart, I apologize for the wrongs my crimes have brought you.

Your father, Gilbert De la Croix

Adriana handed the letter back. She hardly felt her own feet as she stood and walked to the ship's bow. Stretching before her, the ocean shimmered in the moonlight as though made of diamonds. The sea she loved so much only served as a ferocious warden to the prisoners of
Île du Diable
.

"Your father sacrificed himself."

"Yes."

Boiling hot emotion she couldn't identify welled in her gut. Christian's father sacrificed himself without fear, and her father abandoned him just as easily. It couldn't be true!

"Are you certain the letter is from him? It could be from anyone who knows what you look like. How did you this letter even find its way to you?"

Christian grabbed her and turned her around to face him. His face glowed with emotion, but when his eyes fixed on the tear spilling down her cheek, he relaxed his hold on her forearms. He reached up and wiped it away with his thumb.

"You still don't believe, do you, heiress?"

His grip turned hard again and he gave her a shake that brought her against him. She pressed her hands against his chest and felt the rapid beat of his heart. She stared up into his eyes, watching as his gaze slipped to her lips.

"Christian..."

He twisted away. "Perhaps this will convince you." Holding firmly to one wrist, he dragged her behind him and toward the main hatch. "Down."

Once in the main cabin, he unhooked the lamp hanging over the galley table and stepped into the captain's office. She followed hesitantly, watching as he flipped through the pages of Lady Luck's logbook.

"Is this your father's handwriting?" His finger stabbed down on the page.

She saw that it was and nodded.

"Read it." He stood back, gesturing to the stool. Adriana reluctantly sat and peered down at the entry.

What she read made her blood to thicken and slow until it seemed it stopped altogether in her veins. Thunder roared in her ears as she read the one line that made her certain beyond any doubt. She read it a second time to convince herself she wasn't imagining what she saw.

I have lived with the fault of not one ruined life, but two. It is I who must live alone with my shame
.

"Lord in heaven." Only after she'd uttered the oath did she realize she'd whispered it aloud. She stood and numbly started out of the tiny cabin.

Christian grabbed her arm. "Adriana–"

She stopped, frozen like some helpless marionette.

"I am sorry," he said on a gentler breath.

Sorry? He was sorry? It was all true, everything he'd said. Christian had no reason to be sorry. It was she who felt so utterly to blame, she who carried the shame of her father. She who owed more than could ever be repaid. As if she were a flame, the life she'd believed to be true had simply been snuffed out.

"Go back on deck, Mr. De la Croix." Her voice shook with a welling grief that threatened to consume her. "Henri will relieve you at dawn."

He stayed where he was for a long moment, then his hand released her forearm. His fingers lingered, drifting across her exposed skin. She closed her eyes, listening to the whispery soft sound of his departure.

Once alone in her cabin, the agony welling inside her roared like a fueled flame, then suddenly vanished. She took a deep breath, searching for the emotion she thought should be there. It wasn't. Instead, a great weight had been lifted from her soul.

Her father was the same man he'd always been. Just because she learned the truth about him didn't change who he was.

But Christian. Tonight, he'd been transformed from a thief, a scoundrel, and a kidnapper, into a man who had been honest and true, a man who fought with the courage of a titan for the honor of his family. A man who had not turned his back on his father, a man whom she didn't need to be told had never expected an apology from his father. He had never blamed his father, never hated him.

Christian was suddenly a different man in her eyes. He was still the impossibly handsome rake who seemed unaware of the charm of that devilish smile and the enchantment of those pure jade eyes. Only now, he was no longer the man who had insulted her with his affront, but one who had made a desperate plea for her help the only way he knew how.

Adriana draped her robe over her chair and slipped into bed. She drew the covers up to her chin.

Most stunning of all was that she'd allowed herself to become smitten with the young man before she knew any of this.

She chewed her lip as she recalled she hadn't
let
herself do anything of the sort. It had simply happened without her consent.

Her mind flashed to the dream and her future husband, Preston Weiss. Allowing herself to develop feelings for Christian only made her situation worse. She reminded herself Christian still had an agenda. Not only did he want to rescue his father, but he wanted to ruin hers, and she along with him.

Chauncy hopped onto the bed and curled up beside her. His little tail thumped on the bed.

"Are you my only true friend, Chauncy?"

Even Mrs. Bailey seemed to be keeping secrets from her. Adriana wasn't so concerned about whatever the woman hid in her past, but she was clearly lying about the incidents concerning her father. How could she not have seen him the nights he'd come home staggering and stinking? She and Mrs. Bailey both had rooms on the north side of the house in Baltimore, above the carriage entry. More times than she could count, he had emerged from his cab in the mid of night making a shameful ruckus with a slurred tongue.

Adriana rolled on her side and tucked her little dog under her arm. Whatever was past, was past. Her father was a harmless old man who had been shot in the face. He didn't deserve to die. At first, she'd believed Henri's unyielding claim Christian hadn't done it, but after all she'd learned, it seemed he had more reason to hurt her father than anyone.

A million emotions whirled inside her head, each one more confusing than the last. She wanted to admire Christian for these new revelations, for standing up against all odds for what he believed was right. But how far would he go to achieve his goals? Would he stop at murder? His sharing the letter with her had been an act of courage and of trust, but had it been an honest gesture, or just a ploy to weaken her defenses?

Adriana pressed her hands over her eyes.
I don't know
! But one thing she did know, she still didn't fully trust him. He was still harboring deep resentment, still had a plan to carry out. Would she be sacrificed in that plan?

Christian De la Croix was still an adversary, and her fascination with him only made him more dangerous.

Chapter Ten

Adriana dressed quickly and emerged on deck to discover Henri, Christian and Mrs. Ling already topside. An amazing golden sunrise colored the sky, bringing with it the hope of new possibilities.

They looked up at her when Ollie shouted from the crow's nest.

Both men greeted her warmly. The sparkle in Christian's eyes as she responded sent her heart racing. She caught a glimpse of the laugh lines around his eyes and the strong planes of his chin as he smiled.

"Mr. Dupree, you look rested. I am glad to see it. You're looking better as well, Mr. De la Croix." As if that were at all possible, Adriana thought to herself. "Mrs. Ling's tea must be helping with your sea sickness."

He gaped at her, clearly stunned by her graciousness. "Er,
oui
,
merci
. I am feeling better. I have, how do you say it? Found my sea legs."

How strange it felt, but Adriana wished they might exchange pleasantries more often. They'd hardly spoken two kind words to each other during the entire voyage and it had begun to press laboriously on her soul.

I was taught to be a lady, and a lady is kind even to those who are not kind in return
. The decision to be more pleasant made her feel better, inside and out.

When Henri strolled away to check the aft lines, Adriana casually approached Christian. He eyed her warily as she took a position beside him at the starboard rail. She lifted her chin and went right to the point. "I wish to strike a bargain with you."

"A bargain with me? The devil's half-brother?" He chuckled at his own remark, but it dimmed quickly when she didn't laugh with him. "I take it you now believe what I've been trying to tell you all this time."

She shook her head. "Mr. De la Croix, it would hardly be fair to condemn my own father without giving him the chance to explain, would it?"

The gleam in his eyes faded as the lines around them hardened. "His own words in writing are not enough to convince you?"

"He wrote of a guilty heart, not a guilty hand." She paused and stepped an arm's length away at the railing as Mrs. Ling passed them on her way to her small chicken coop.

"I am prepared to assist you in this ludicrous quest," she continued softly, "if you and I can come to an arrangement."

"Help me?" He burst out with a mocking laugh. "It seems I have already garnered all the help I need."

Adriana ground her teeth as she swallowed down her anger.
Remember your plan to be polite
, she thought.
You'll not catch this fly with vinegar
. "Mr. De la Croix, let me assure you, I can make this journey most difficult. Perhaps even impossible."

"Please, heiress, no more bickering." He grumbled a long sigh. "This bargain you propose. Let me hear it."

A flood of jubilation rippled through her like a flock of tiny birds taking flight. He recognized her competency. He knew she was someone who could assist, or destroy, his quest. How strange, but it felt good to be recognized as capable.

"My father obviously feels some blame, whether he is solely responsible for your father's fate, or not."

The anger returned to Christian's eyes and he opened his mouth to speak.

"However," Adriana said quickly, "that is not the principal matter at hand. It seems to me what is most important to you is rescuing your father. I will help you in whatever way I can, if you agree not to set about harming my father when we have finished."

Christian turned his gaze out over the water. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

"You wish to rescue your father. I wish to protect mine. A bargain seems a most equitable way for us each to achieve our goals. I have named my price."