Chapter 25
Beatrix bounced on the rather firm bed that was built into the cabin wall. To her surprise, after taking her about the upper decks, Argyle had insisted she take a rest.
A mother hen was not the first image one would conjure when thinking of Argyle, but it fit. When she had begun to lag a little, he’d veritably shooed her to Adam’s cabin.
In truth, she was quite tired. Exhausted really. The journey and emotional upheaval had taken their toll. So, she had put up little struggle.
Even so, she had not laid down to sleep. No, she had poured over his belongings. The desk, bolted to the floor, was covered in maps. His closeted shelves were full of books. Books of every variety.
She’d found Hamlet and slipped it off the shelf then headed to the bed.
It was not a happy story.
And yet, the love in it was so powerful, so palpable, she couldn’t help but feel if just a few decisions had been different that the Prince of Denmark needn’t have been so miserable. The moral in her summation, of course, could also be used in her own life. The wrong decision could rattle one off onto a course that led to the most tragic circumstances. She did not yet know if she could mend her own mistakes, but she would try.
The sound of footsteps clattering along the small hallway shocked her out of her reverie and, for a moment, she felt fear, until she heard the roar, “Beatrix!”
She snapped the play shut and put it down on the woven covers.
Adam opened the door and stumbled through as if he had been running at full tilt. His eyes flashed with worry until they spotted her. He crossed the room in two short strides then pulled her into his arms.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, holding her tight.
She blinked, stunned by the joy and relief she felt in his arms. “But it is I who should ask for forgiveness.”
“I left you alone,” he countered, stroking his hands along her back, holding her as if he were afraid she would disappear. “You never should have been alone.”
She nodded against his chest. “I was alone. But I am glad.”
He pulled back slowly. “You liked being without me?”
“Yes,” she replied firmly, her hands tightening on his muscular arms.
He pulled back further, his beautiful face growing troubled. “You’ve come to part with me then.”
“No!” she exclaimed, realizing how her reply could be interpreted. “You misunderstand. I’ve come to win you back.”
“To win me back?” he echoed.
A sound of male triumph whooped from the corridor.
“I knew it was a misunderstanding,” Aston bellowed loudly.
“How many people are out there?” she asked, swinging her gaze to the sudden cacophony.
“Three,” he admitted sheepishly. “If you must know, I was drinking my sorrows away with the Duke of Aston and his son, Tony.”
She touched his face, resting her palm against his rugged cheek. “I did that to you.”
“No. Well, a little,” he confessed, angling his face into her caress. “But the pain in my heart. . . I was so afraid of losing you.”
Hesitating, he allowed all his bravado to disappear, all the strength he had presented her, and she saw naught but a young man who had been ravaged by loss.
“You see,” he began, “when my sister died years ago, I hardened my heart a bit. And then, I saw things. Terrible things over the years. When you were almost taken from me, I knew I couldn’t allow it to happen. I could not bear to face the darkness again. At least, I thought that was so. I know, in reality, I can’t protect you at every moment, but I think. . . I think my greatest fear was that you did not need me as I need you.”
“Oh, Adam.” Stroking his wild hair back from his face, she promised herself not to hold back and to be utterly truthful. “I am a fool. I was so absorbed in trying to heal my heart with the past, I failed to embrace the present. You are my path to happiness. Nothing else. Not a title. Not a house. Not an earldom. You are the one who saw me in my pain and offered me hope. You have held my hand, and walked with me through so much. You have cared for me despite my mad pursuit of an heir, of a lineage.” She gazed up at him with tear-filled eyes that were not from sadness but hope. “I do want a child. But I want you. More than anything, I want you. And if a child comes from that, I will love that child for itself. Not for the line it can preserve.”
He blinked, tears of his own shining in his eyes. “Does that mean—”
She took his face in her hands, cradling it and whispered with all the passion of her heart,
“Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love.”
Adam turned his face, and pressed a kiss into her palm in answer.
“I love you, Captain Adam Duke,” she declared loudly, loudly enough that anyone in the vicinity who might want to hear would. “I was so lost in my own pain that I did not see it. You have made me alive again and I cannot imagine my life without you. You are my future. Promise me, you will not go.”
He grasped her hand in his, twining his fingers with hers as he asked carefully, “If I give you a child?”
“No.” She shook her head slowly, needing him to understand his worth to her. “Just promise me you will not go. That you will stand by my side whatever comes. Child or no child. Hardship or peace. Be with me.”
He pulled her to him then, sweeping her off her feet “Yes. Whatever may come. I love you. God, I cannot tell you how much.”
“Nor I.”
He kissed her then and, much to her amazement, another cheer went up from the hallway.
She buried her face against his chest in embarrassment then asked, “How do they know we are kissing?”
“The silence!” bellowed Tony.
She groaned. Then, grabbing her cane, she pulled out of Adam’s arms and headed for the open door. When she spotted, inexplicably, her cousin, Aston, and his son, Tony crammed like fish in a barrel in the small space, she brandished her cane at them. “Off you all go. Thank you for bringing my husband to me, but we have things to discuss.”
“And things to do,” Aston crowed happily.
“Go!” she ordered, swallowing back a laugh.
“Our work here is clearly done, lads,” Aston declared, looping his arms around the younger men. “Let’s hie off.”
As they marched away, suddenly Aston called over his shoulder, “I told you marriages had misunderstandings, old boy! I told you!”
She turned back to Adam, confused. “Misunderstanding?”
Adam laughed, a deep, barrel sound of freedom. “Aston was convinced that we are perfect for each other and that whatever had happened, no matter how bad, would work itself out.”
“The man is deuced talented at being right.”
“It’s infuriating,” Adam agreed.
She limped back to Adam and took his hands in hers. “Yet, I’m glad.”
“As am I. Now, come here,” he urged, leading her towards the bed.
“Wait,” she said suddenly.
“Wait?”
Licking her lips, she wondered at the wisdom of her course, but she had to ask. “You promised me once that you would show me your scars. Scars as bad as mine, you claimed. But you never have.”
His face blanched. “Tony told me I had to tell you.”
“Can you?” She squeezed his hands, hoping to give him courage.
He was still for a long moment but then he nodded. He did not draw her to the bed but to his desk. Gently, he guided her to the chair that was fastened to the floor and he sat on the polished wood desktop.
For several moments, he sat in silence, clearly at a loss as to where to begin. “I don’t always sleep at night.”
She smiled gently. “I have noticed.”
His brows rose. “Have you, indeed, my clever wife?”
“Yes. But I didn’t want to mention it because I hoped that, one day, you would explain it to me.”
He nodded then looked towards the window, growing distant. “You know what I’ve done at sea in general terms. I’ve had a good deal of luck. Finding slavers at the right moment. They aren’t built for battle, you know. They cannot speed away from my ship because they’re packed with humans.”
As he spoke, his voice took on a hollow tone, as if he could not bear to feel what he was about to say again.
Suddenly, she felt afraid, afraid she might lose him to this memory. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” he countered, folding his hands before him. “Because if I don’t, there will be secrets between us. Distance. We must never let there be impediments to our marriage ever again. And you must understand why I will never be a country gentleman alone.”
She reached out and placed her hand atop his folded ones. “I am here.”
“We spotted a ship listing,” he began haltingly. “There was something wrong with it. We knew that at once, even from a distance. So we hoped for an easy boarding. But then. . .” He took a harsh breath. “We realized that the crew was sabotaging it. They were actively letting water in. Not trying to remove it.”
A sick feeling began filling her stomach.
“The air was hot, but flat. The wind had slowed,” he kept on, letting the words fall out of him. “The scent of the slaver filled the air. And we still had hopes that we could board it. But as we grew closer, the ship began to sink quickly.”
His hands shook as he spoke. “The crew shoved off a longship into the water and they shunted down the ropes into it. Abandoning their ship.” He swallowed, his voice choking. “That’s when we heard it. The screams.”
Adam’s knuckles whitened and his grip on her hand grew brutal. But she did not protest as he unfurled the horror in his heart.
“The sound tore the air asunder. We watched, completely helpless.” His face paled at the memory. “At this point, the starboard bow listed and sank. The screams grew louder. There is no book, no Dante’s Inferno that could compare with that moment as I and my men watched helplessly from our armed ship which had been ready to board and rescue those people.”
Silence fell upon him and his chest curved, the pain in his heart so great his strong body could barely cope with it.
It was all she could do not to take him in her arms, but he needed to say this and she would not interrupt him.
Finally, he continued, “We sailed closer, desperate that, perhaps, there was something we could do. But it was too late. The ship went down within minutes. And with the wind—”
His voice broke again and she waited. Waited for him to finish the hellish tale.
“With the wind so poor, we had little ability to close the distance. We watched in horror. I cannot describe the disparity of our silence with the sound of that slaver going down. When the ship submerged, we all searched the water, eyeing it, praying. Praying for survivors.” Tears slipped down his cheeks then and he dashed them away. “There were none. They were all chained, you see. Captives in the belly of the ship.”
“Oh, Adam—”
“Do not feel sorry for me,” he said quickly. “My pain compares as nothing with the loss of all those hopes, and dreams, and lives of the people aboard.” He drew in a long breath, still avoiding her gaze. “We picked up the crew. Most of my men wanted to execute them on the spot. I pressed them for information.” He paused again, a disgusted smile tilting his lips. “Do you know why they did it? Why they sank their own ship?”
She shook her head, dreading the answer, but willing to hear anything he might say to ease his suffering.
“An illness was spreading through the hold and the captain had been afraid it would kill half his cargo.” He blew out a derisive breath. “Cargo. As if they weren’t living beings. So they destroyed the ship.” Slowly he turned to her, his eyes ablaze with the tragedy of it. “For the insurance. After all, if the ship went down, they’d be able to recoup their losses. If the people on board died of illness before they reached port. . .”
“Monsters,” she breathed.
“Yes,” he agreed sadly. “Monsters walk amongst us. Their deaths tortured me for years. I was quite a violent man then. And for a long time, I would allow no one close to me. Somehow, I couldn’t bear the idea of being happy after that. But Alexander convinced me that was no service to those that had perished. My service would be to live and ensure something like it didn’t happen again. So, we’ve sailed for years, stopping ships.” He lifted his head, the weight of his words easing a little. “Remember, it’s why I’m in London.”
“I do remember,” she replied proudly. “I admired you so much. I still do. And now, I admire you more for not giving up.”
“I can’t,” he said tightly. “We mustn’t grow tired in the fight, Beatrix. We must never grow tired. But you needed to know what drives me. Why I will never be able to stay away from what must be done.”
“You will not be able to stay on land,” she said softly. “I never thought you would. But now I fear for you. But I will never try to stop you. For it is who you are.”
He caressed her hand then gently lifted her up and pulled her into his arms. “I have a plan, actually. One that will allow me to continue my work and stay with you.”
“How can that be?” she gasped, reeling from his revelation and the fear of losing him in some altercation upon the seas.
“Aston of all things.” He smiled then. A pained, but true smile. “He wishes me to help convince the English government that their naval ships should take up the cause.”
The idea of it was revolutionary and would, she knew instantly, be very important. “What can I do to help?”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Love me. Love me as I am, as I will love you.”
“With all my heart, Adam. With all my heart.” She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, shoulders which needed to be held, despite their strength. “We shall find our way through this world and its troubles together.”
“And that?” he breathed. “That will be a thing of hope, indeed.”