He laughed as he pushed from his place and looked down at her. “Soon I’ll be the least villainous person you know, my dear. Enjoy your passage, I’m sure it will be eventful.”
Mariah pinched her lips together to keep them from trembling and silently wished for John. Prayed for him to arrive and save her, even though she knew there was very little chance of that.
Except, as Rycroft headed for the stairs that led up to the deck of the ship, there was a commotion. And she knew, as well as she knew the beating of her own heart, that John was there.
The Watch had met them just as they departed the house, so overcoming the ship with eight armed men, six of them with official papers, was far easier than John would have ever imagined. Most of the sailors simply followed orders. They were no masterminds and they folded when faced with officials.
It didn’t stop him from wanting to ring their necks as the guard officers pushed them back into a waiting crowd for questioning on what they were calling “the matter”.
The matter
. Mariah was not a matter, she was a woman. A woman he loved and could very well lose, if he hadn’t already lost her. His stomach turned.
“When will we move into the ship?” he demanded to the guard leader.
The man looked at him with annoyance. “In a moment, sir. Please, allow us to do our job.”
John stepped away, but his acquiescence was for show alone. He wasn’t about to abandon Mariah to the inept investigation of the guard. He shot a look at his brother.
Adam straightened up and motioned toward the ship just across a thin plank in the distance. The
Lusty Maiden
, it was called, a moniker that made John sick when he thought of its captive cargo.
“Distract them, yes?” he said softly. “While I board.”
Adam tensed. “By yourself?”
He nodded. “I’m armed. And I know what I’m facing, probably better than these men.”
After a hesitation, his brother said, “Is there anything I can do to dissuade you?”
“No. This is my future wife. My best and truest friend. My life.” He shuddered. “I would leave her safety to no other man.”
Adam pondered for a moment, then nodded. “Then best go while the sailors are a bit rowdy.”
John looked at the restless crowd. A few of the sailors had begun to argue with the guard. No one was even looking toward the ship yet, so he drew his pistol and headed up the plank and toward the captain’s quarters.
Mariah staggered as Rycroft dragged her to her feet and peered through the gaps in the wooden cabin toward the loud noises outside. For the first time since he’d taken her, he looked less than smugly satisfied. If he weren’t holding a knife to her throat, she might have enjoyed that more.
“Bollocks,” he cursed against her ear. “It appears Adam has involved himself in this mess, despite my orders to keep his mouth shut and do as he was told. That is the only way John could have found us so quickly.”
Mariah’s heart leapt with joy, but it was tempered by worry. The man who held her was a madman, but a calculating one. She had known men like him before, though not to this extreme. If they could not have what they wanted, no one else would. Which meant John was in as much danger as she was if he burst into this room in an attempt to save her.
Did he know that? Was he acquainted enough with his father’s true self to protect himself? Or would his feelings and connection to her blind him?
“Kill me,” she said, tensing as she spoke the words.
Rycroft glanced down at her in true shock. “I beg your pardon?”
“Kill me. It will distract him enough that you can escape. Isn’t that what you want?”
She shivered.
“You
do
love him, don’t you?” Rycroft asked. “You’re ready to sacrifice yourself for him. What a weakness.”
The door slowly opened before he could say more and John’s tall, broad-shouldered body blocked the sun from outside as he stepped into the cramped quarters.
“A weakness in your eyes,” he said as he held a pistol steady on his father. “But I’ve never shared your opinion on much, including that. As for you…” His gaze flitted to her and she saw his relief that she was whole. “There will be no noble sacrifices today, my dear.”
Mariah swallowed and felt the knife press to her skin as her throat worked. John might not be right about the second part of his statement, but she would keep that to herself at present.
“Your brother betrayed me in the end, eh?” Rycroft said with a shake of his head. “That boy is a fool.”
“That
boy
did everything you wanted. You destroyed him.” John clenched his teeth. “I’m not certain he will ever be whole again. But this isn’t about him. At least not entirely. Why don’t you let Mariah go and we’ll see if we can come to terms?”
Rycroft laughed, but the sound was highly unpleasant. “Terms? No, that time is over. I tried to come to terms with you weeks ago and you spat in my face. The only language you understand is that of loss. I should have remembered that from your mother. If you are threatened by loss, you respond positively. So I will take what you hold most dear.”
Mariah shook as the knife blade cut just a touch into her skin and stared at John with wide eyes. His breath went short and he paled.
“You have no cards now,” John said, his voice deceptively calm. “You
know
that. You played your hand and you’ve lost. Let Mariah go and I might…” His mouth pinched and Mariah could see how little he wanted to say the next words. “I could still protect you from the worst of the consequences of these actions.”
“You protect me?” His father laughed. “No, I doubt that.”
Mariah could feel Rycroft’s agitation growing with each passing moment. The knife shook against her skin, nicking her here and there as he lost concentration and looked at the door behind John.
“I think you may be right that my cards are played out,” he said and his voice shook a little at her ear. “But if I must lose, John, then I’m afraid I cannot allow you to win.”
The world seemed to shift into half-time. The knife cut into Mariah’s skin and she cried out at the pain. John cursed, though she would never remember what word he said exactly, and suddenly there was a plume of smoke curling out from the gun he had fired. Her ears rung with the explosiveness of it and she squeezed her eyes shut and waited to feel the dual burning pains of her throat being slashed and the bullet striking her.
Instead the weight of Vaughn Rycroft’s grip released from her arm and fell away behind her. The knife slid against her skin, but with no force, causing a minor, stinging scratch as the weapon clattered to one side.
She staggered forward and into John’s arms, where he held her tightly against his chest and tried to pull her away from the death behind her. But she had to look.
Vaughn Rycroft had a bullet hole squarely between his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling as a pool of blood collected beneath him, his gaze empty.
“Come away,” John said, turning her toward the door. “Come away, my love.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mariah stepped into the master bedroom of John’s home a few hours later to find him sitting in the settee before the dying fire. He stared at the drink in his hand without taking a sip. She winced at his expression—hollow, empty, broken.
“John?” she whispered.
He jerked his gaze at her with a gasp of surprise and then smiled, trying to hide his emotions, to protect her, though she was no longer the one who needed it.
“I’m sorry. I promised to return to the parlor, but I sat down and lost track of time.” He moved to stand. “I’m certain the Watch still has a plethora of questions.”
Mariah shook her head and motioned him to remain where he was. “The guard has departed in its entirety. Your brother has somehow handled it all. Though I think there was enough evidence that they would have come to the proper conclusion even without Adam’s interference.”
“He said he would redeem himself or die trying,” John muttered. “But he isn’t the one who lies dead, is he?”
“Do you blame yourself for that?” she whispered as she moved on him slowly.
“Of course,” he said as he set his drink down on the floor, as if he didn’t care where it went. “I am the one who fired the bullet into the man’s brain.”
“And I suppose you blame me, as well?” she whispered.
He jerked his gaze to hers. “Don’t be foolish, of course I don’t. You were my father’s victim, having done no more wrong than being someone I care for.”
She stared at him. That was more of an admission of feelings than he had ever shared with her. It was not enough, but it still warmed her even though she did not wish it to.
“You
must
blame me if you blame yourself, for
you
are a victim as much as I am.” She sat down beside him. “You did not ask to be born Rycroft’s son. Nor to be used by him as a pawn in any of his twisted schemes. You came to that ship in order to save me from his wicked plan. And that you did. I know that if you could have avoided spilling even a drop of his blood you would have.”
“Yes,” he mused. “But why? Why do I feel such guilt, such heartbreak over his death? He was a sick, controlling bastard who destroyed all he touched with a glee that far surpassed the boundaries of madness. He was a dog who needed to be put down. Yet I grieve.”
“Because he was your father,” she soothed. “And that means something to a good man. Like you.”
He glanced over at her. “I hope you know I do not regret saving you, Mariah.”
She nodded without hesitation. She might know little else, but that was plain. “Of course.”
“I regret you were ever put in that position, but if the same choices were placed before me now, I would end it the same way.” He reached out and touched the place where her neck had been bandaged. “Perhaps I would have fired sooner.”
She covered his fingers and smiled. “John, you have spent the past few weeks tending to me. Whether it was my physical desires or my wellbeing, you have not thought once of yourself.”
“A few times I have,” he said with a smile that warmed her. He could still seduce, which gave her hope for his recovery when she was gone.
“You know what I mean. Please allow me to take care of you now.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips to his. “Please, let me take away some of the ugliness of today and replace it with good.”
He nodded as he lifted her onto his lap. She kissed him, tracing his tongue with her own, tasting him, sucking him, feeling him relax into her touch the way he deserved to do after today. She massaged his shoulders as he leaned back against the settee and was rewarded by the feel of his hardening erection against her thigh.
He groaned as she pulled away from his kiss and stared down at him in the firelight. They did not speak, but neither of them looked away as she stood up and stripped out of her gown to stand before him naked. He lifted his hips and removed his trousers but never got to his shirt because she straddled him as soon as his cock was naked and speared herself down over him in one heated thrust.
“Great God,” he groaned out.
She smiled as she began to rock her hips. Each thrust was slow and seductive, building the pleasure of the joining in inches rather than miles. They might not have forever anymore, but they had the whole night and she was in no rush to bring their joining to an end.
He lifted his hips to hasten what she would not, lifting her almost off the settee in his enthusiasm to drive deeper, to claim faster, and the edge on which she teetered rapidly became too unsteady. She found herself falling into orgasm, deep and slow, that rocked her as she continued to ride him, ride him, ride him.
“There is nothing better than seeing you come,” he growled and then his face contorted with pleasure and he burst within her, filling her with his essence until they collapsed together, arms around each other, breath matched in pants.
She held him for a long time, smoothing her hands along his back as she rested her head in the crook of his shoulder and appreciated the way their bodies were still joined, their heartbeats matched.
He sighed and the painful sound broke the spell. “I shall need to speak to the vicar tomorrow about rescheduling the wedding. I would think we could repeat this next weekend, though hopefully with less high drama.”
She drew back and stared at him. He seemed utterly serious. With a gasp, she got to her feet and lifted her chemise up to cover herself.
“John, we shall not marry now.”
He stared at her. “What? Of course we will.”
“No. We will not.” She drew the chemise over her head and folded her arms. “I do appreciate your continued attempts to make this right, but the reason you were marrying me was that you felt it was imperative to protect me from your father. Now that the threat is gone there is no need for me to be your wife. I cannot fulfill that place.”
He stared at her. “Do you say this because of what my father tried to do to you today?”
She stepped toward him before she could stop herself. “No. I could no more judge you for his actions than I would judge anyone else in this house. John—” She cut herself off and then sat down next to him. She took his hand and forced herself to look into his eyes. “John, I cannot marry you because I love you.”