The Notorious Lady Anne: A Loveswept Historical Romance (41 page)

“Of course he didn’t.” The denial came too swiftly, too vehemently. Was that what she thought? That Nicholas abandoned her like her father had? But he wasn’t anything like her father.

The tops of Phin’s cheeks turned pink and he looked away. “And the baby, well, that wasn’t your fault.”

“You know about the baby?” She could barely push the question out. It was too painful to even think of the small life taken from her before she was even aware of it.

He looked at her, this man who was more family than anyone ever had been. Who’d fought beside her for so long she relied on him for everything. “I know. And I’m sorry. Nicholas was distraught when he found out.”

“He was?” Her hand touched her empty belly, where once there grew a child they’d created together. When had they created it? Was it by the waterfall? The first time they made love?

“I’ve never seen someone so grief-stricken.”

She looked out over the ocean, digesting what Phin said. Was Nicholas truly grief stricken? Or was he relieved that his child, born of a bastard, would never be able to tie him down?

No. No matter what she thought of herself, or her father, or even Nicholas, she knew he would not think like that.

“Sail with me, Emmaline. Let’s sail away from here and forge another path.”

“Where would you go?” From the first moment she decided to become a pirate, Phin had been with her. That he was leaving cut her to the quick, and yet she didn’t blame him. He had a
life to lead and he didn’t need a barnacle like her slowing him down.

“London.”

London. Where Nicholas was. The bold thoughts of sailing a new path shriveled. “I can’t go to London.”

“Why?”

“What if Nicholas is there?”

“I hope he is. I hope he doesn’t plan on leaving for a few days yet.”

“Leaving?” Nicholas was leaving London?

“To return here. There’s no need if we can go to him.”

“He’s coming back?”

Phin rolled his eyes. “At one time you were a fairly intelligent woman.”

Despite her fear and the ever-present grief inside her, she laughed. A rusty sound, but a laugh nonetheless. He was right, of course. She was being daft, repeating everything he said.

The thought of leaving this place where she could hide from the truth, and from herself, frightened her, but at the same time plucked at her sense of adventure. Yet the thought of boarding a ship, of sailing away, exhausted her when all she wanted to do was lie in her bed and sleep.

“I can’t go with you.”

His lips thinned. She’d angered him, but there wasn’t anything she was able to do about that. She simply did not have the energy or the will to do more than sit here and stare at the water, imagining a life she could have had if she’d only taken Nicholas’s advice and turned away from her last mission.

Late that night, Emmaline walked through the house to sit on the porch. It was too dark to see the ocean, but she could hear it and smell it. The soft swish of the waves as it hit the beach, the briny scent that was so much a part of her life.

She hadn’t been able to sleep, because as much as it pained her to admit it, Phin was
right. ’Twas time to move on. To grow up. To live her own life by her own rules. She’d thought she’d been doing that all along, but she hadn’t. Her movements had been governed by her father, and now that he was dead, it was time to move on.

Right now she was lost, set adrift, but she preferred to look at the future as an open book with the pages blank, and she the author that held the pen.

There was something freeing in the thought that nothing tied her down, not even her revenge. And yet, before she could set her next course, she had one more thing to take care of.

As much as she feared a future without Nicholas—and she was damn terrified of moving on without him—she wasn’t able to leave things this way. If he was going to leave her, then by God, she would hear it from him. And he would say it to her face.

It took every bit of strength, every bit of willpower she possessed, to remain standing at the shore.

She rubbed her arms, chilled despite the sweat that coated her skin from the long hike. She wasn’t the same person she used to be, that was for certain. At one time a hike down a hill to her ships would have been nothing to accomplish. Now her strength was gone, taken by a father who’d tried to kill her.

Finally, Phin appeared out of the trees, head bent, her men behind him, laughing softly, eager and ready for a new adventure. She warmed when she saw them, this ragtag family she’d cobbled together. They were from several different countries, but they were all extremely loyal to her. She’d forever be grateful for their friendship.

When Phin spied her, he stopped, causing a backup behind him. Men grumbled and ribbed one another good-naturedly until they saw her, then they fell silent.

“How did you get down here?” Phin asked.

“Slowly.” She’d had to grab on to trees, and her legs gave out numerous times. It’d taken her much longer than it would have a month ago, but she’d made it on her own and was ridiculously
proud of herself.

“Come to see us off?” Phin moved forward, the others following, silent and wary of this new Emmaline.

She lifted her chin. “I’ve come to sail with you.”

Phin stopped again, surprise and delight in his expression. “What changed your mind?”

“You. Me. You were right. I’m not the same person and probably never will be, but I still love to sail.” The partial truth. There was more she wasn’t willing to share yet.

“That’s my girl,” Phin said, and her crew relaxed. They were a tight-knit group but a tight-lipped group as well. They wouldn’t comment on her sudden appearance. They’d take it in stride, and be happy for it, she hoped.

Her knee buckled, but she managed to keep herself from falling. Phin seemed to note it, but didn’t say anything. “I plan on captaining this voyage,” she said.

“Of course.” He waved his arm toward the tender waiting for them. “Shall we?”

“You’re
ruining
my
life
.” Lady Claire Addison stamped her foot and acted more like a two-year-old than a woman of eighteen.

Nicholas glanced above his solicitor’s notes to look at Sebastian.

“My job is complete, then,” Sebastian said drily.

Nicholas bit back a snort. The two had arrived at his doorstep an hour ago and hadn’t stopped their bickering long enough to take a deep breath. Nicholas suspected Sebastian fled here to escape their sister, and Claire followed, haranguing him the entire way. Or maybe Sebastian didn’t want to suffer alone.

Claire was a beauty with a sharp mind who possessed the ability to drive a monk to drink heavily. Since their parents’ deaths, it’d been up to Sebastian to rein her in, and so far he’d failed. Nicholas helped when he could, but his mind wasn’t on his family right now. He had bigger problems to contend with. Like getting back to Emmaline.

“This is so
unfair
.” Claire fell into the chair, her skirts billowing up around her.

“Claire, please,” Nicholas said. “Act like a lady.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “What does it matter?
He
”—she nodded toward Sebastian—“won’t let me do what ladies do.”

“Ladies don’t go running off with gentlemen they don’t know.” Sebastian’s voice rose and Nicholas shushed him. No reason to let the servants know what was going on. They didn’t need word to spread of Claire’s newest involvement.

“I know him,” she said.

“You do
not
know him,” Sebastian said.

“And how do you know?”

Sebastian shot Nicholas a help-me look, but Nicholas merely shrugged and tried to concentrate on the papers before him. ’Twas hard enough to do alone, when his thoughts constantly
turned to his wife and the questions swirling through his brain.

Was she still unconscious? Was she even alive?

He’d received no word from Phin, and he truthfully hadn’t expected to. He’d told Phin that he would finish his business here and would return to the Isle of Wight posthaste.

He ran a hand down his face and focused on the numbers before him, but they kept blurring. When was the last time he’d had a full night’s rest? Before the attack on Blackwell, most likely. Since returning to London he’d been in meetings with Kenmar, the king and his advisors. They were not pleased Blackwell turned traitor, and Kenmar was especially angry he’d backed the man in several investments. Luckily, the king laid no blame at Kenmar’s feet.

“Nicholas—”

“No.”

“But you don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Claire said, her voice rising to a pitch that hurt his ears.

“I can guess. No.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and jumped from the chair to pace to the window, where she parted the curtains and looked out. “You two are insufferable.”

Sebastian and Nicholas shared a smile. Claire was a handful, and Nicholas had no doubt Sebastian would foist her on the first eligible male he could find. But she was their sister, and by God, the man they eventually handed her off to would meet with their approval. And they most definitely did
not
approve of Horace Buchanan—hence the drama.

She turned to face them and Nicholas braced himself for another round of pleading. She was beginning to wear on him. He was half-tempted to let her do what she wanted in order to teach her a valuable lesson. If only the lesson wouldn’t ruin her reputation.

“If you would only meet with him, you’d see what a wonderful person he is.”

Nicholas snorted. Sebastian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re being
rude
.” She stomped her foot again.

Sebastian dropped his hand. “Fine. I’ll meet with him.”

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. Had Claire finally worn their brother down?

“You will?” She rushed to Sebastian and fell to her knees in front of him. “Truly? You’ll meet with him? You won’t be sorry, I promise. He’s the nicest man and he cares so very much for me.”

“No he doesn’t.”

Claire jumped up. “How can you say that?”

“Because I’ve looked into his background.”

His face paled and Nicholas put his papers down, waiting for the next bit of news.

“What have you done?” she whispered.

“Merely what any brother or father would do.”

“How
could
you?” She spun away from them, then turned back. “You don’t trust me to choose my own suitors?”

“No,” they both said.

“Oh.
You
.” She flung her hands out at her sides.

Sebastian pinned her with
the look
. The one their father had perfected and apparently passed down to his eldest. The one that said, “You aren’t winning this argument and you shouldn’t even try.”

“Horace Buchanan is up to his eyeballs in gambling debts,” Sebastian said.

“That’s a lie.” But her words weren’t as forceful as before.

Nicholas might have felt sorry for her, if it weren’t for the fact she’d nearly run away with this blackguard last night. Thank all that was holy the tail Sebastian had put on Buchanan warned them.

Sebastian sighed. “It’s not a lie, Claire. He owes a lot of men a lot of money, and you’re not the first girl with a sizeable dowry he’s tried to run away with.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want me with him. Because you don’t want me to be happy.”

“Excuse me, my lord.” Nicholas’s butler stood inside the doorway of the study, dour, serious,
dressed perfectly. And for some reason, Nicholas suddenly missed Clarence. Clarence who mumbled and complained every time he was asked to do something. Who was so rude it was shocking at times.

“Yes?”

Winston cleared his throat and, for the first time ever, looked like he didn’t quite know what to do. Nicholas had never seen this before. Intrigued, he waited.

“There is a … woman … here, my lord.”

Nicholas suppressed a smile. The poor chap, he truly was ill at ease. It wasn’t as if Nicholas had women calling all the time. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time a woman called, other than Claire.

“And this woman’s name is …”