The Sapphire Heiress (The Silver Order #1)

16 The Invitation

Chapter Sixteen

The Invitation

M ae inched away as a river of blood cut through the grass. For a moment, she feared it was her own. But as Mae lifted her head, Locke’s unmoving body came into view, the sharp edges of a rock protruding from his back.

A scream of dread seemed to empty her. She cast aside any thought of running. Thief or not, he was the only one to help her attain freedom from poverty, who believed she was meant for something better. The only one in the world she trusted. Finally, Locke would know it. Seeing her at his side, he would not have a doubt.

If only his eyes would open.

Where was the Silver Order?

Desperate for mercy, she looked skyward. Ellsworth came forward, his figure blocking her view. He hadn’t broken his cruel, serpent-like gaze, and in the blinding light of the midday sun, a knife glistened menacingly.

“Miss Rosewood?” Mae made her out, standing arms crossed amongst the grasses. But behind her angry glare, she saw no pity. Her former pupil merely watched as Ellsworth dropped down from his horse and tore through Locke’s pockets. A silver chain with a strange sort of blue stone pendant thudded to the ground .

The sapphire , Mae nearly screamed out. Ellsworth, thankfully, paid no heed to the seemingly useless trinket nor the strange bottle that hung at his neck, not when his focus was on finding the key. It took only a moment for him to find it in Locke’s other pocket. He snatched away Mae’s only future then took aim with his knife, daring her to object.

She remained unmoving. What did death matter? With Locke lying so helpless like that, she wanted the same fate.

“The vault’s location.” Ellsworth came upon her and grabbed the back of her neck.

Mae pressed her lips together, her skin stinging from his grip. “I’ll lie,” she spit out. “Just to see another one of your men suffocate.”

“I do have a hostage, remember. She’s ruined, yes, but that’s still better than being dead and ruined.”

When she remained silent, he shook her. “Tell me now .”

Again she was silent.

Ellsworth turned the blade over, its gold hilt facing her. “Very well.”

The hit reverberated in her ears before she felt it. The pain came slowly, settling deep within her skull. For a brief moment, she wanted to shatter. Then she felt an anger all her own.

“You deserved that,” Ellsworth said. “So did your brother. That night when you thought I left? Well, I snuck back in. I made sure your brother got what he deserved too.”

The strike pulsed with scorching heat. But Mae would not let that faze her. She secured herself along Locke’s still body, gripping and shaking him. Even Gambit had been nudging his foot with his snout. If not Locke, someone had to make Ellsworth pay for what he had done.

Her hand graced across his belt. Feeling the cool metal of a blade, a sudden idea chilled her.

She had no choice. It was a simple trade, really. Seconds of violence for a lifetime of regret. She knew now she could never erase what she had done in the cellar. Nor could she reason it away.

The reasons didn’t seem to matter. It didn’t change what she had done, what she had taken away.

Her fingers wrapped around the hilt. The blade was unique with a smooth, onyx stone that winked at her in the sunlight. She swallowed. Whatever injuries she endured, if she lived, she could find Locke’s healing serum. How could she have forgotten that? With it, she could cure Locke’s injuries too. She had only to free them of Ellsworth.

She owed Locke this. He, she was certain, would have done the same for her. Had done the same for her.

The sun shone brightly over her, heating her skin. All the while, Ellsworth’s knife, now righted, came closer. Beads of sweat swelled along Mae’s forehead. The bugs, wind, the rustling leaves—everything fell away.

Knife fights never lasted long, according to some of her father’s tales. Just another part of her past that added up to Locke’s accusations. She could deny it no longer. Feeling a savage anger begin its steady release, she would finally live up to her family name and kill again.

Fearless now, Mae took a deep breath. Ready for Ellsworth to make one wrong move and end his life in a flash, she swiped the blade from Locke’s waist. Though she expected to hear a ping of metal, a louder sound erased it.

Hooves trampled across the dry, dead grass. Branches snapped like gunshots.

Mae twisted around, frantic. A circle of men riding horseback closed in, her hair blowing wild from the rush.

Ellsworth looked around and began to step back, his eyes, uneasy. Whoever these horsemen were, they didn’t belong to him.

Within the frenzy, Locke came to.

“Mae.” Locke coughed, his eyes on the knife shaking in her hands. For a moment, she was still lost in the frenzy, frozen in shock .

“Mae,” he repeated.

This time, she heard him. Still shaking, she dropped the knife.

Ellsworth and Miss Rosewood had disappeared. They’d already begun their retreat to wherever their carriage and horses lay hidden within the grasses.

“On their heels,” a hooded man prompted.

Dressed in long, black cloaks, the horsemen were the same they had met in the theater. She recognized Pierce’s tall posture and broad build instantly, though his presence was different now. She wasn’t afraid. As silly as it was, she was grateful. She should have feared these men more than Ellsworth. Her and Locke’s fates in their hands might very well be no different. They would die here in turmoil, not peace.

On the ground still, Mae had enough wits about her to pick up the silver chain Ellsworth had dropped and hand it to Locke. He gave her a weak smile and pulled her close, his right arm drawn across her chest. Only then did she remember how scantily she was dressed.

“He wanted something from you.” Pierce galloped closer. It wasn’t a question, but a statement, maybe even a prediction.

“What can I say? I am a man of intrigue.” Locke beamed, the pain of his back seemingly no more.

“And a man of your word?”

Locke held up a silver chain and thrust it forward. A glinting sapphire encased in silver filigree swung back and forth from the movement.

Now that she had the chance to take it in, the jewel was unlike any she had ever beheld. It twinkled, not reflecting the dim light of the overcast sky, but from a sort of light source within. It was almost as if it were alive.

“Take it,” Locke grunted. But Pierce didn’t move an inch.

“Just like that? You don’t wish to negotiate a price? It was, after all, fairly stolen.”

“I owe you a debt.” Locke looked off in the direction Ellsworth had taken. Pierce had saved their lives and they both knew it.

“So you owe me a favor.” Pierce pulled back his hood, smiling.

“No. We are square.”

“Keep the sapphire a moment longer.” Pierce waved a hand of dismissal “We make our trade soon.”

“I wish to be rid of you now.”

“I’m afraid that’s no longer possible.” For a tense moment, they locked eyes.

What could they do? Surrounded by horses, they couldn’t run.

Mae shrieked when someone yanked her upward and secured her arms. The hardness of a chest pressed against her back, falling and rising with each nasally breath.

“Don’t.” Locke took to his feet. His voice was fierce but breathless from the pain. “We go of our own accord.”

He placed the necklace around his neck. Mae expected a transformation of sorts, for him to take on a new, immortal glow. But he remained unchanged. Just as he had for decades before her father had taken the necklace and locked it away in the vault. That time had added seven years to his once unaging life, putting him in his early thirties, when in truth he should have been much grayer. She could not forget how remarkable this all was.

“One conversation is all I ask.”

“Fancy that. If I’d known—” Locke widened his stance and put his hands on his hips.

“Where are your clothes?” Pierce drawled.

“Down on the beach,” Locke answered.

“Get them,” Pierce ordered one of his men. Turning back to Locke, Pierce seemed to make sudden note of the blood still spilling onto the grass. “You need assistance with that?”

“Not at all.” Locke lifted the serum from around his neck and raised it high, as if in toast. Instantly, it began to glow. With a nod, he took a tiny sip. “I still find your tools useful these days. ”

Pierce’s men laughed, a low rumble that shook the ground.

Gambit, dragged along by one of Pierce’s men, pulled up beside them.

“Don’t worry,” Locke said into Mae’s ear, the breath of comfort hardly enough to ease her fears.

But following Pierce, there was no knowing what cold, dark place they might end up in now.

*

Locked watched the red ember of a sun slide beneath the horizon. Atop Gambit, Mae and Locke had been traveling in and out of rain. At least the evening had turned warm.

As much as Locke wanted to hide his face beneath his collar, he had made a point of mapping their route. At first, he wasn’t familiar with the unpaved, overgrown road they traveled. But during the course of the ride, it became fascinatingly clear. They were traveling on old Roman roads. He was sure of it. After coming inland for quite some time, they had landed on a route that ran north. The path was ancient and overgrown, yes, but probably the most direct. Very few knew about them and most known routes were incomplete. But flanked by ditches and slightly arched, the road was suited for all weather. He believed it had been paved once too. The occasional flat stone was hidden beneath a mossy overgrowth.

Wherever they were headed, it couldn’t have been far if they were traveling horseback. Mae could easily find her way to London. From London, she could go anywhere. If he helped her escape that far, would she still insist they separate?

If only they could claim just ten percent of what was in that cave. They could have had a simple life, a nice manor on the coast not too far from town, but with enough land for riding. There would be no men to give them chase. Instead, there would be her face in the morning and his lips on hers at night. Everything about that kind of life enticed him. Nothing, not even the thrill of the raging sea, could hold a candle to it.

He would like to think it was possible. Something in her gaze when he’d come to had given him that hope. Still, there was no ignoring the well-armed guards, nor the power Pierce seemed to hold in his eyes alone.

Locke clenched his teeth. With the sapphire in Pierce’s hands again, this business was supposed to be finished. He had no clue what else Pierce wanted, either. Not even an inkling.

He readjusted his grasp around Mae’s waist, his cloak protecting her completely from the rain. She was safe for now, but for how long? He had to stay focused. He could not let himself get distracted. He would hold true to his promise. She would have her fortune and her freedom. He would do more than try. He would do everything in his power. It was all that mattered to him now. Sapphire be damned.

He lifted the cloak that shielded Mae’s face. The blow Ellsworth had delivered had stopped bleeding. It was now just a swirl of black and blue. He covered her again. He hated seeing her like that and even considered supplying her with a drop of the serum. But it belonged to Pierce and who knew what he might ask in exchange.

She seemed at peace, anyway. She snored lightly, her body twitching every now and then. Was she dreaming? What kind of things did a woman like Mae dream?

In the past few days, his own had taken on a whole new theme. They were no longer sequences of blood sprays and fallen men. They were of a more pleasant variety. In each of them—often set in his woods or the endless expanse of the moors—she was just a glimmer of an image, a hazy apparition.

Dear God, what was she dreaming? They had likely turned to nightmares. Did she see Ellsworth now? That blade running into her shoulder that night in the cellar? The face of the man she had killed ?

He wanted to wake her, only reality wasn’t much better.

He’d give anything to change their stars and make new their fates. But no matter what he did, danger loomed closer. Ahead, turrets made their first appearance above the treeline, their sharp roofs cutting into the sky like blades.

“We’re here.” Locke nudged Mae out of sleep.

She gasped. Buried within a valley of rolling hills stood a great, stone building seemingly preserved since ancient times. Pillared archways and high-pitched roofs were distinctly Gothic.

The cavalry picked up speed toward an iron gate. A man emerged, swinging the gates open.

As the group raced on, the building grew larger, its stone figurines and decorative, wrought-iron fencing more distinct.

Mae, with her chin slumped down to her chest, paid no attention. By the time he dismounted, she near-fell into his arms. She would not be carried, though.

“Please,” she protested, her half-open eyes failing to sharpen to their usual vigor. “I can manage.”

He watched with resigned amusement as she straightened and smoothed out her skirts. After a full day of riding, her efforts did little good. A fact, she irritably seemed to notice too. Locke laid a protective hand on her back, the touch jolting her forward.

From behind the gathering of horses, Pierce headed their way, his face serious and stern. “We’ll need to relinquish your weapons first.” He waved a guard over. “Search him. The lady too.”

“She’s unarmed.” Locke pressed a hand against the guard’s chest.

Eyes narrowed, the man—well-trained, he imagined—didn’t move back an inch.

“Are we to take his word?” Uncertainty ghosted through the guard’s voice. Locke could easily land a blow against the bastard’s ribs. But against the two other well-armed guards, he could hardly hold his own .

“A quick patting,” Pierce confirmed. Locke breathed in, anger burning his chest as the man signaled Mae to raise her arms. He forced himself to watch, ready to shout foul if the man so much as smiled at Mae.

“Nothing.” The guard moved to Locke next, inching a hand up along his waist. He stopped at a knife—the very one Mae had grabbed.

The memory made him shudder. He should have gone after her the moment she’d left to get the tools. The vault had distracted him, overcoming his good sense. He had left her defenseless and she had been willing to fight. To kill. He didn’t like the idea. The one man she’d killed had troubled her enough. It didn’t matter if she had all the strength or reason in the world—he didn’t want her to face that again. No matter what the circumstances, no one was immune to the nightmares. And he knew she had them. He knew every time her mind returned to the darkness of that wine cellar.

The sound of metal hitting stone forced Locke from his thoughts. The damnable guard had tossed his blade to the ground like a piece of scrap metal. He relinquished two smaller blades and a pistol next. With a careless hand, they, too, were tossed to the ground, quivering on impact.

“Is that all?” Pierce circled the pile.

“Afraid so.”

“Then after you…” Pierce threw an arm out toward open doors.

Locke kept Mae close as they entered. Meant to impress, the expansive foyer had not a single piece of furniture, just long, intricate tapestries, marble pillars, and a staircase that could have led to heaven itself.

“Ben here will take Miss Blackthorne to her room.” Pierce motioned for a footman with a thick, elaborate mustache.

Mae cast Pierce a suspicious glare.

“Please. You are my guests.” He gestured them forward with a slight blow .

“By threat of force,” Locke said. “So far as I’m concerned, we’re enemies.”

“Pity. In the ways of the old world, you can’t accept a morsel of food, either. And you must be hungry…”

Locke swore under his breath.

“We’ll have her put in one of our finest rooms.”

“Then I go too,” Locke said.

“If I must,” Pierce said, sighing indignantly, “I shall take the two of you myself.”

He led them up the green marble staircase. Taking note of the glistening railings, Locke wondered if, in all this opulence, they were actually solid gold. His heart pounded, reaching for anything he might do to escape all this.

He resisted the urge to take Mae by the waist. He could not meet her gaze, either. If he did, there needed to be reassurance there. At the moment, he could muster none, not even the faintest of smiles.

“Your finest room.” He turned to Pierce, trying his damnedest not to look impressed with the surroundings.

“But of course.”

Rounding a corner, they moved into a hallway wide enough to be a sitting room. Crystal chandeliers continued one after the other seemingly forever.

Distress crept over Locke with each step, an unease Mae seemed to feel too. Lest she touch anything, she kept her arms tucked against her sides tightly. The extreme size of the building did not bode well for an easy escape.

“After you.” Pierce motioned Mae toward a doorway. Inside, an open armoire had been filled with dresses. An elegantly arranged tea service complete with iced finger cakes graced a low table. They had been expected.

Trying not to let that fact unnerve him, Locke turned his attention to the bed. There seemed enough pillows and furs to satisfy Mae’s former lifestyle.

“Is it to your liking?”

“Quite.” Mae clasped her hands, waiting for them to step out. It wasn’t good manners that kept her from collapsing. Fear shimmered in her eyes. A look he knew all too well.

“Capital. Do ring the bell, then.” Pierce slid out.

“I won’t be far,” Locke promised quickly, though it could very well have been a lie. What else might be said? There seemed no other possible words for what might await them. Still, Locke wanted to take her hand and make the promise again. He wouldn’t fail her like he had at the coast. She had to know he—

“Go,” Mae ordered, her eyes finally lowering. “You must.”

Nodding, he quit the room, wishing later that he had said something more. She had to know it was not hopeless.

“She’ll be safe?” He met Pierce in the hall.

“Without question,” Pierce said quickly with a hard glare. He seemed to be playing host now.

“What of Ellsworth and the other woman? Have your men recovered them?”

“Worry not, my friend. The moment they arrive with my men, they will be taken into immediate confinement.”

Considering Mae, Locke paused. He needed to put his next request in the best possible light. “I trust you won’t treat the young lady too terribly. She is a great friend of Mae’s. A pupil of hers.”

“If the younger one’s release would please the lady, I shall do so at once.”

Locke bit his tongue, knowing full well Mae would want the same. Yet it was far from the safest option.

“I’m afraid that might not be wise.” Locke lowered his voice. “Miss Rosewood is not yet to be trusted. She has become too close with Ellsworth these last few days. A man who certainly can’t be trusted.”

“I see… ”

“But if she is to be confined, it should be in the utmost comfort.”

“Yes, of course. I shall give the order at my first opportunity. Now, please. A tête-à-tête is all I ask.”

“Nothing more.”

Pierce strode down the hall, his steps quick and animated. What for? He had made it clear the sapphire no longer interested him.

Pierce moved into the dining room. It was no less extravagant than he’d expected. The place was a castle fit for a fairy tale. All around Locke, a series of candelabras gave the room a flickering glow. Marble walls rose an impressive two stories and through latticed windows, the moon hovered low in the twilight.

“Please.” Pierce motioned Locke to his seat while he was no doubt gaping. “You’re warm enough, I trust?”

With the evening proving warm, two pillared fireplaces went unlit.

Locke nodded, his sights on the long, polished table set for two. Heaping platters of sliced fruit, chicken, and bread drew him nearer.

Like Mae, he suffered from exhaustion. To his luck, a servant, well-dressed in all silver, placed a steaming cup of coffee before him. Locke dropped into the chair and took it up in his hands. Steam wafted over his lips, its effects working instantly.

“I never meant for us to become enemies.” Pierce took the seat opposite. “Why you decided to run, I have no idea.”

Locke, with a mouthful of coffee, nearly choked with laughter.

“So far, we’ve benefitted mutually,” Pierce went on.

“How do you gather that?”

“When you overcame my ship’s defenses, you showed me my weaknesses. Your gains, I think, are obvious enough…Most would consider it a gift.”

Locke pressed his lips together. Perhaps it was a gift, one that with time, had made him realize how meaningless his life had been. A gift that had given him Mae. A gift Pierce had likely hoped to keep for himself .

“Have you ever made use of it?” Locke asked. “I rather hoped but could never be sure that my seven years without it meant…”

“You were aging again?” Pierce said plainly. “Indeed. You are.”

Locke breathed out. “And you yourself never used it? Before I…”

Pierce closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, as if such things were beneath him to speak of.

“It’s not too late to change your mind.” Locke cast an eye over Pierce. He had been rather young for his position when they’d first crossed paths. Now his face hung heavy with wrinkles. His hands shook as he gripped his napkin, not much differently than when he had reached for his gun that day at sea. But these were memories Locke didn’t care to recall.

“Here.” Locke pulled the serum and sapphire free from his neck. In a clatter of chains, he dropped them atop the table. He wished he could say that he had never wanted any of these things, but the healing serum had saved his life and the life of his crew on more than one occasion.

Now it seemed he owed a debt.

“Whatever this place is, I want nothing to do with it.” With this royal treatment of sorts, Locke saw where this was going now. Though it would make little difference, Locke needed to say the words.

“We must interest you to some degree.” Pierce picked up his fork and served Locke several slices of meat and bread. “I know you’ve been asking questions.”

They were good. Better than any organization he had ever heard of.

“What have you discovered?” Piece asked. “Please, indulge me.”

“Nothing,” Locke answered, ashamed of the fact. Only that Pierce must have had some sort of power to track him down as he had. The sapphire was only the tip of a much deeper truth.

“Please.” Pierce motioned to the food .

Locke took up a fork, growing more uneasy. He didn’t like sitting there in the company of even one Silver Order member. Not when he knew Pierce’s power. Not when the man was holding Mae against her will. He was growing impatient. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, almost roared .

Pierce, however, didn’t even blink. “First…let me enlighten you. Our power, you should know, is not the result of some political connection, money, or even cunning manipulation. Rather, we owe our power to one single asset.” He pointed to the chains atop the table. “Interesting how some items can prove profitable and others not. Neither a stone nor a serum, this one asset is an elixir, a drink, if you will, one that allows us to see things…things that have not yet come to be.”

Just as Locke had predicted, the man was only getting stranger, especially since Locke and Mae had arrived here.

When Locke failed to show surprise, he continued. “Just hints, flashes—never much. But as you can imagine, for this advice of ours, people will give almost anything.”

“Why tell me this?” One reason Locke knew was that he would never leave this place alive.

Locke debated whether or not he should try to find Mae and make a run for it. But when shadows drifted past in the hall, he reconsidered. He remembered they weren’t alone.

“I confess you surprised me in retrieving the amulet. Any other man would simply go on running forever. But you didn’t, did you?” His eyes gleamed.

“I’m done running. I’m done with that life of crime.”

“Indeed. Who wouldn’t want to settle down with a woman like Miss Blackthorne?”

Locke gave in and took a quick bite of chicken. He didn’t care if this man was impressed with him. He had only one thing on his mind: escape. For that he’d need energy .

“The serum, elixir, this gem—how’d you get your hands on it all?” Aside from his own curiosity, Locke hoped to distract the strange man. Anything he could do to buy himself more time. He still had yet to come up with a plan.

“The same way a pirate comes upon a precious cargo. We’re far from the first to have stolen it. My ancestors, like your own, were explorers.”

Locke placed his fork back on the table and tugging the chain, slid the healing serum into his grasp. He had a hunch he was going to need it. He could go without the natural order of things a little while longer. He had more to protect than just himself.

“My father, for one, was constantly searching the world for these kinds of discoveries. That sapphire, we found amongst the ruins of a much older society in the Pacific. Lord knows how those devils attained it.” He let out a boom of laughter.

“Thing must be worth a kingdom.”

“The sapphire? I suppose.” Pierce gave a lofty wave of the hand, as if it were all so provincial. “But one cannot go about selling such things…”

“That would mean parting with some of your power.”

“Ah. Not just some stupid pirate, are you? Can you read?”

“Of course.” Locke narrowed his eyes. “In fact, I’m well-read.”

“I was just teasing.” Pierce laughed. “I never thought you a stupid pirate. Not once.”

“Then be blunt. Given your abilities, you should know more about myself than I do.”

“Perhaps I do.” Pierce drummed his fingers together. “Even before you utilized certain… abilities , you were quite famous, quite feared too…”

At this, Locke wanted to laugh. He wasn’t proud of these things. In fact, he would trade it all just for a normal life, or rather, any life with Mae .

“That day at sea when you overcame my men, I was in a state of shock. I had prepared, I had a large crew, and still, the way you came at us… If my crew faced you again, they said they’d surrender at once.”

“I did what any pirate worth his salt does best. Induced fear.”

“A useful tactic and exactly what we need. If our ships are to be protected, we need someone like you.”

Locke snorted. “What of my future?”

“Are you so eager to hear it?”

“Why not?” He didn’t have to believe him, did he? For all he knew, it could have been some lie and manipulation. He’d decide for himself.

“Quite simply, you become one of us. Your seafaring abilities and travels have made you quite successful in protecting our assets. You’re a wealthy man. In want of nothing.”

Locke’s stomach twisted with disgust. “And that’s the future as you see it?”

“That’s what will pass, yes. No matter what you do. These visions are set in stone, Mr. Locke. They cannot be undone.”

“‘Cannot be undone…’” Locke repeated in breathless amazement. “Then what the devil—”

“—is the use of knowing?” Pierce finished, as he probably had a thousand times before. “We can prepare.”

“Sounds like a curse. Or at least a story that will soon end in tragedy.”

“Knowing can be a burden. Fate is a powerful and sometimes cruel woman, but she did bring us together, didn’t she?”

“This is madness.”

“Is this not what you want? You miss the sea.”

“But not the bloodshed.”

“Oh, there won’t be much of that. Not if you do your job right.”

Still, it would add up , Locke thought. And it would not be few. For each expedition in god-knew-what kind of unexplored territory, there could be many deaths. The seas were dangerous; they both knew that. When he had met Pierce’s men at sea, they had been well-armed for a reason. It was only strategy and good luck that Locke and his crew had even pulled through. The man was ruthless. Locke had seen it then and he was seeing it now. Pierce was even more ruthless than Ellsworth; the only difference was Pierce’s wits, calm temperament, and his seemingly endless power and resources. Traits Locke didn’t have the skills to defeat.

“What exactly would you have me do?” Locke asked. “Protect your finds of mermaids and unicorns—the stuff of fairy tales and myth?”

“Nothing quite so silly as that. You’ll just have to take me at my word. In time, you’ll find the opportunity rather fortuitous, I think…and exciting too—a life that could be yours for centuries if you wish it.”

“And what becomes of Mae?” Locke wanted so badly to call Pierce’s fortunetelling a lie, but something told him it wasn’t. It made too much sense, especially if it meant giving Mae her freedom.

His heart started to pound just as it did before a fight. The type of power that surrounded him was starting to make him nervous. From the ancient bricks to the gold, hand-painted plates before him, there was simply too much majesty and authority here to ignore. The man lived like a king and Locke was beginning to think he was one.

“Strange pair you make. You and Miss Blackthorne. Her father did betray you.” Pierce raised a brow.

“He tried to kill me.” Locke straightened in his seat.

“She is very handsome, of course. Has a glow about her.”

“That, she does.”

“But you found other uses for her. Made plans. Good plans.”

“I wouldn’t call them good.” Locke looked down at the sharp gleam of the table. Working alongside Ellsworth had been his biggest regret. The memory burned straight through his gut .

“She can’t know everything in your past, can she?” Pierce smiled with cruelty.

“No.” Locke kept a straight face. He wondered if it was extortion he hinted at. The question was undoubtedly a threat of sorts. “But she knows enough.”

“And she’s willing to look past it?”

Locke shrugged. He didn’t know for certain anymore. If she ever did, he’d never know why.

“I find her very hard to read myself. Her own future is unwritten as of yet. Though I rather hoped she might make a place for herself here… with you . You’ll travel but a few months a year—that, I promise you.”

“ No. ” He knew what Pierce was suggesting and he refused to submit her to this prison, to another life of taking orders. “I’ll do your bidding, but you let her go.”

Locke had promised her more than her inheritance. He had promised her freedom. Soon, she would have it.

“Locke—”

“Take care of Ellsworth too.” He shoved the sapphire necklace toward Pierce and rose from his chair. “And let me get some rest before I tell her the news.”

“Very well. I suppose we have talked enough for now.” Pierce rang a small silver bell. “Take Mr. Locke to his quarters. Spare no luxury.”

The footman led Locke into a whole new set of halls. The place was a maze, making it difficult to gauge his distance from Mae. But he could hardly face her now after all that he had heard. He could hardly come to grips with his so-called future himself.

He had once been a captain, fierce and fearsome. He hadn’t taken orders. He’d traveled the world because he had once been free to do it, not so he could protect discoveries some nob would profit from.

And yet, that was his fate. Already written in the stone. Despite his hopes and efforts, he would never free himself from Pierce’s web. He had no choice. No matter what happened, Mae would get her fortune and her freedom—even if it cost him his own.