The Marriage Bargain (28 page)

But she wouldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t.

She wiped away the tears that stained her face. Her heart ached so painfully. Now she understood what it meant to feel your heart bleed, for surely that’s what hers was doing.

The thought of losing Beckett forever chilled her so completely, she began to shake, her teeth chattering noisily. She had lost so much already… how could she bear to have lost the only man she would ever love, as well?

Not knowing what else to do, Isobel stared down into the cold blue water and prayed.

Worthington motioned to one of his sailors. The man quickly came to the captain’s side.

“Launch the rowboat, Mr. Ross. Wait for me on shore—near the caves as usual. And Mr. Ross—”

“Yes, Cap’n?” The burly pirate stepped closer.

“If you should find anything interesting floating in the water, fish it out and hold it at the caves until I get there. Understood?”

“Yes, sir, Cap’n.” The man nodded and made to go about his orders.

Worthington reached out his hand, stopping him. “Be sure and have a good look out there, will you?

There is a rather large ‘fish’ in these waters that I should very much like to catch.”

Soon.

They would be there soon. And then she would be lost forever.

Isobel stood on the deck, watching the pirates preparing to drop anchor. The gulls overhead seemed to be speaking for her as they cried out in haunting lament to the skies above. It was fitting music for this day.

The Revenge bustled with activity as it prepared to unload both its passengers and its smuggled cargo. It had hidden itself in a secluded cove that would have been dangerous for any other ship to enter. But it was obviously a spot well-known to the Revenge crew.

Feeling a presence behind her, Isobel turned to see the cool stare of Captain Worthington. He held Captain Black in one arm and extended the hand of the other. She made no move to take it.

He smiled, acknowledging the snub. “I wish you well, Lady Ravenwood. You would have made a splendid pirate, I think. If you are ever in need of employment, perhaps I could find a place for you on my ship.”

“Is that intended as a compliment?”

“It was, indeed.”

“If you truly want me as a crew member, throw Sir Harry overboard. Then I’ll be happy to join you.”

Worthington chuckled. “A noble attempt, my lady, but I wouldn’t want it to get ‘round that I double-cross my paying customers. That would have a negative effect on my business.”

“Ah, yes, your business.” Isobel nodded and turned to look at the coastline. “Forgive me if I see my husband’s life as rather more important than any financial transaction could ever be.”

He cocked an eyebrow, stroking Captain Black’s fur. “I am a pirate, after all. You underestimate yourself, Lady Ravenwood. I don’t believe you need me at all. You have the survival instincts of a fox.

You’re clever, and you know when to stay hidden and when to run.”

“Sometimes the fox gets caught.”

“True. But whatever happens, the fox never gives up, does it? And that is how it escapes the hunters.”

Isobel turned away, thinking of everything she’d left behind at Ravenwood Hall on Barbados. It all seemed like a twisted jest. Her life had been interrupted by a dream of love, safety and belonging. Now she seemed fated to be Sir Harry’s plaything. It was as if her escape to London, her time with Beckett there and in Barbados, had never taken place.

She glanced at Worthington as he stood beside her, also gazing at the cold Atlantic. But as she gazed out over the forbidding sea, a faint hope still glowed in her heart. She would cling to that hope until her heart stopped beating.

Worthington turned to her. “There are stories of mermaids in these waters, did you know, Lady Ravenwood?”

“Mermaids? Indeed, Captain.”

What game was he playing at now?

“Oh, yes,” the pirate said, stroking Captain Black as the cat studied her with bright green eyes. “There are many stories of mermaids—and mermen, too. I thought I saw one myself, once. I should keep my eye open, if I were you, lady. One never knows what one might find in these waters.”

Isobel looked at him quizzically.

What was the man trying to say? Was he trying to give her false hope? Or did he know something she didn’t?

Just then, Sir Harry appeared on deck, fussing with his coat. He approached Isobel and Worthington.

Isobel felt her stomach sink.

This was it, then.

“I say, Worthington—coaching my bride-to-be in the tricks of your pirate trade, are you?” Sir Harry’s eyes darted from the captain to Isobel.

“Oh no, Lennox, she needs no coaching from me.” Worthington’s smile was mocking.

Sir Harry’s eyes narrowed as he thrust his final payment towards the pirate captain. “You think to laugh at me, do you?” Sir Harry grabbed Isobel’s arm and pulled her roughly beside him. “Believe me, Captain, I will have the last laugh… on all of you.”

Captain Black hissed at Sir Harry, but Worthington held the animal fast. Sir Harry took a step back.

“Captain Black and I wish you luck in trying to tame her, Lennox.” Worthington’s voice was as cold as ice. “You’ll need it.” With that, the man turned away and walked to the open cargo hold to oversee the unloading of smuggled goods into their landing boats.

Sir Harry looked down at Isobel, his eyes dark and dangerous. His lips curled slowly, but it was more of a threat than a smile. “Just think, my dear—only a few more hours and we shall be at Hampton Park celebrating our wedding. And then our wedding night.”

He pulled her close to him so that her breasts were pressed uncomfortably against his chest. Instinctively, she turned her head away from his leering face, but he grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.

“I shall be your husband now, as I was meant to be. And you will see that no man could ever love you as much as I can, Isobel. Soon… you will see exactly how much I love you.”

He pulled her head towards his and she tried to squirm away, but he was too strong, and his vile lips covered hers and kissed her hard. Isobel felt bile rising in her throat and hoped it made its way up her throat and right into Sir Harry’s mouth.

What would she do? What would she do tonight, if Beckett did not appear to stop this? He had said he’d come for her. He had promised. But for the first time since he’d disappeared into the dark blue waters, Isobel felt her fears grabbing hold of her faith and choking the life out of it.

Sir Harry released her and looked down into her eyes with a self-satisfied grin. “That was only a taste, my love. I shall show you much more tonight in our chamber. After you’ve been taught a lesson for cuckolding me, of course.” He touched her cheek. “Until tonight, then.”

Cold fear washed over her heart in icy waves as Sir Harry led her toward the side of the ship and her new life.

Oh, dear Lord… what if it’s true? What if Beckett really is gone? Have I been deluding myself to hope that he might still be alive?

Just then a gull swooped down from above, having apparently decided to use Sir Harry’s head for target practice. The baronet stood stunned for a few moments, then scowling, he gingerly reached a hand up to investigate. His face seemed to curl inward as he grimaced in distaste.

“Oh! Bloody hell! Damned ignorant bastards, those disgusting birds.” Sir Harry pulled out his handkerchief and ineffectively mopped his head.

Isobel couldn’t help but laugh, and neither it seemed, could any of the pirates. Not only was it good to see Sir Harry in any kind of discomfiture, but surely the gull had been sent by the Lord Himself to give her a sign.

“Alright, the theatricals are over.” Sir Harry growled at the crew. “Isobel, get down that ladder and into the boat. It’s time to get off this bloody scow.”

Isobel saw the captain look over at Sir Harry’s choice of words. She and Worthington locked eyes for one last time before she descended the ladder. If she’d been hoping to see a change of heart, it was not to be found.

Stepping into the boat, Isobel sat silently while Sir Harry descended the rope ladder. The two pirates that he had hired sat in the middle, each one holding an oar. Soon, her abductor took his seat and the boat began to move quietly towards shore.

Isobel looked at the dark sapphire water around her. The oars dipped eerily into the water without making so much as a sound. For a moment, she had the urge to jump overboard and try to swim to shore herself. She knew it would be impossible—the men would be able to pick her up very quickly, if she didn’t drown first.

No, she would not go willingly to her death. She must stay alive. Beckett might be coming for her. And there might be an opportunity for escape after they reached Hampton Park. She had grown up there, and knew all sorts of hidden passages that she doubted Sir Harry would. One way or another, she would escape this madman.

Until then, she would think of nothing but Beckett.

Hampton Park loomed dark and foreboding in the distance. The yellow moon hung low and eerily above the house as the carriage rattled over the bumpy road. This was certainly not the homecoming Isobel had hoped for.

She looked at Sir Harry across from her in the dark cab. He stared at her, and she saw his eyes flash in the dim light from the lanterns that bobbed outside the cab’s windows. The man looked like the devil himself.

Chills went through her. Was this truly happening? Would this blackguard finally be victorious in his utter destruction of her and her family? Obviously, Sir Harry thought so. He’d sent word ahead to rouse the parson from his sleep to be ready to marry them when they arrived. Then they would finally enjoy their wedding night, he’d sneered.

Oh, just the thought of it made her sick with fear. How could she let Sir Harry touch her as Beckett had done? How would she survive something so horrible, with the memories of her husband’s sweet touch swirling in her head and mocking her as this villain defiled her body?

Sir Harry leaned forward and took her face in his hands. Isobel stiffened, trying to keep calm, but the touch of his skin made her want to retch. He brought his face closer, trying to cover her mouth with his own. Isobel struggled against him, pounding his chest with her fists in a vain attempt at freedom.

“Stop it, Isobel! Stop this nonsense. You can’t escape, do you not yet understand?” Sir Harry grabbed a handful of her hair in his fist and forced Isobel to look at him. Her blood ran cold. “You are mine!

Ravenwood is dead, Isobel. Forget him.”

“I can’t forget him—I won’t!”

“Yes you will, little wife. I will drive his memory from your head and your heart. Iwill drive him out of your body with my own. Beginning tonight.”

Sir Harry pulled at his neck cloth and untied the elaborate bow. “It seems you need to be trussed up, my dear. I suppose it’s just as well that you develop a liking for such things now.”

Sir Harry yanked her arms in front of her, easily binding her wrists with the strong silk. Isobel struggled, but it was futile. He was much too strong for her. What would she do if she were too exhausted to fight him later?

Sir Harry pushed her back onto her seat and resumed his place opposite her.

“There.” Sir Harry huffed. “Now, you shall stay put until we reach Hampton Park. And no more nonsense, Isobel.” He took a deep breath, settling himself on the seat and wiping at his face with a handkerchief. “You will learn to obey me.”

Isobel kept her face turned away from him and stared out the window. Her heart ached unbearably, her stomach seized in dread. Escape would be impossible, now. He would be watching her every move.

She heard a little thump on the roof of the carriage, and then a faint yowling sound. Were they to be attacked by creatures of the night as well? Nothing would surprise her on this terrible journey.

She looked across at Sir Harry and felt her heart turn to stone.

How could she face a life as Sir Harry’s plaything? How could she bear the brutality that he would surely inflict on her for his own corrupt pleasure? If she knew Beckett were alive, she could endure any suffering, if there were any chance they would be reunited.

But without that hope, what was there to live for? No one had seen Beckett resurface after he’d fallen into the water. They all considered him dead. Had she, in her despair at the possibility of losing Beckett, simply refused to believe the truth?

She had been sure that Beckett was still alive. But now, everything was cloudy. She felt numb. Her life, or what was left of it, would be unbearable without him.

With her heart clenching in pain, Isobel forced herself to face the horrible truth.

Her husband was dead.

Beckett sat on the damp ground, thankful that his trousers had already been ruined from his plunge into the ocean. It was one less thing he had to worry about.

After the pirates had fished him out of the water, they’d landed their rowboat on shore and held him prisoner. He’d been looking down the barrel of a pistol for at least a half-hour, since then. None of the pirates would tell him why they’d rescued him—only that he would be wise not to give them any trouble.

Since the odds were against him, he was obeying their orders—for the present. The fact remained that his wife was in the clutches of a despicable villain and that he was determined to rescue her.

And not even a band of pirates would keep him from doing that.

Another boat appeared out of the darkness. As it neared shore, the pirates leaped out and dragged the boat up onto the sand.

Beckett watched as the men approached. Instantly, he recognized the white-haired captain at the fore.

“Lord Ravenwood,” Captain Worthington said, his teeth glinting in the golden moonlight, “may I be the first to congratulate you on cheating the Grim Reaper.”

“Why, thank you, Captain.” Beckett said. “I’m rather delighted by it, myself. I must thank your men here for fishing me out and keeping me company. And while I would love to stay and chat, I’m afraid I have rather important business to attend to.”

“As do I, my lord. Some of it concerns you… and of course, your lovely wife.”