Regency Vows. Kasey Michaels
she said irritably. “Maybe you ought to start today. Now, in fact.”
“A few extra days’ delay in securing a ship and provisions isn’t going to make a difference. I’m not leaving here until I see you wed to James.”
“William!”
“I would say wedded and bedded, but I can see the second part’s been taken care of already.”
“You see nothing,” she scoffed.
He laughed, leaving her wondering what had given her away, and whether anyone else would notice it. Beyond him, the surf crashed against the rocky beach and the two ships she’d seen from the window were tiny white dots in the distance. “If it’s a wedding you came to see, you’ll have to satisfy yourself with seeing me wed to Lord Deal.”
“The hell I will.”
“We’ve already made arrangements.”
“The hell you have,” William said. “Never would have let Croston into your room last night.”
“Arrangements are forthcoming.” Guilt gnawed at her. It was one thing to present herself to Lord Deal as the victim of unfortunate circumstances. It was something else entirely to go to him in marriage still warm from another man’s attentions.
Yet maybe it didn’t matter. If Lord Deal agreed to marry her, it would not be for love. And he certainly didn’t expect to find her chaste.
“Sounds to me like Croston’s babe might well be forthcoming. What will you do then? Pass it off as Deal’s?”
Katherine looked away, turning her face to the wind. The plan was damning, phrased that way.
“Good God,” William said. “Even you aren’t that ruthless.”
“Lord Deal is kind. And amusing,” she added, ignoring his question. “I like him.” All she had to do was refuse to open her door tonight when James knocked—and there was no doubt that he would—and make sure what they’d done never happened again.
If only it were that simple. If only what she and James had done had just been...what they’d done.
William reached out with a familiar gesture and pulled a strand of hair from her face. “You could never do what you’re suggesting. Know you too well.”
Sudden emotion welled into her throat, and by the time she felt the tears burning her eyes it was too late to stop them.
William’s hands clamped over her shoulders. “Did Croston hurt you?”
She could only shake her head and gulp a breath of air as a tear leaked out. “I do not want to talk about this,” she said fiercely. “William, about the Possession—”
“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll bring her back safe.”
“No, do not bring her back here.” Her breath shook, but she forced the words out, anyway. “When you find her, William, she shall be yours.”
“Katherine—”
“I mean it. I shall have no need of her now.” It hurt to say the words.
“That’s not a choice that needs making. I will return her to you regardless. You and Croston can decide what to do with her.” He brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “Consider her return my wedding gift to you. Now, suppose you tell me why you don’t want to talk about Croston.”
The gentleness in William’s voice was too much, and the words tumbled out. “He makes me...want things...I can’t have.”
“What things?” William asked, pulling her close. “And why can’t you have them?”
She buried her face against his shoulder and breathed his familiar scent—that exotic, Ottoman oil he favored. She wanted to give James everything. She wanted to offer him her heart and have him accept it like a precious jewel. She wanted to hear Anne call him Papa. She wanted to take him to the ramparts and show him how the land stretched for miles and miles and tell him of her plans and dreams.
They were so fragile, those plans and dreams. Yet with the slightest encouragement, she would tell him everything. The most secret longings of her heart.
“He makes me want to surrender,” she confessed on a fresh wave of tears, and she felt William tense.
“Surrendered already, haven’t you?”
“He makes me want to surrender everything, William. My heart, my mind—I’ve become the foolish, romantic girl I’ve always scorned.”
William set her back and framed her face. “Katherine, listen to me. I’m all for you marrying Croston—”
“He hasn’t renewed his proposal.”
“Renewed.”
Katherine looked away.
“You are the most stubborn woman in creation. He’ll renew it in the morning—stake my life on it. But think twice before giving him your heart, Katherine. You’ll only regret it. Worked too hard for your freedom.”
“I know.” But leaning against James this morning felt more like entering a safe harbor than admitting defeat. Another tear leaked out, and another. She knew all about safe harbors. There weren’t any.
William searched her eyes. “Haven’t seen you cry in years.”
She tried to remember another time she’d cried in front of William, but the only one she could think of was the time they’d nearly lost him to infection when he’d taken that wound in his cheek. She’d loved him so much, and the thought of losing him— “I can’t love him, William. I can’t.”
“Love?” His grip on her tightened.
“I’m so afraid. The things he makes me feel— It’s gone too far. He is overpowering my will.”
“Lust, Katherine. Pure and simple. I promise.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Done it a few more times than you, I daresay. Good God.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “You’re not the type to succumb to love, Kate. Been in slavery once already—won’t let it happen again. You’re too strong.”
But this didn’t feel like slavery had. It was something entirely different—more of a softening. An opening. “I don’t know.”
“Listen to me. Don’t let Croston turn you into a spineless featherhead. Give him your body, your respect even, but don’t give him what’s inside you.”
She stared at him, unable to believe it. She’d given James her body, and now she’d all but lost control over it. And she was at risk of giving, and losing, so much more. “What if it’s too late?”
“It’s not too late. Didn’t you just threaten to have me flogged?” His grin was a momentary flash that hardened almost instantly. “Your threats only prove the Katherine I know is still here.”
The only thing her threats proved was that William was still capable of aggravating her to no end.
“My ferocious, bloodthirsty corsair,” William murmured, catching her tears with his thumbs. “You’re a powerful woman, not a foolish child, and you’re much too shrewd to succumb to this kind of romantic fluff. Take him to your bed, if it pleases you. Marry him because he’s the best of your choices—I won’t see you married to anyone less, mark my words—and God knows he’ll make an honest woman of you or he’ll answer to me. Enjoy the bastard’s company, even. But don’t let it be more than that.”
It was already too late for that. She broke away from him and went to the rampart wall where it faced the sea. Below, the east tower’s ruins sat in a wretched heap. She ran her hands over the cold turret stone, letting her fingers play in the pocks left behind by Papa and his friends the night they’d decided to fire their pistols at a row of