Chapter 36
“She’d been found out. She’d so closely guarded her identity for dread of what they’d do to her once they discovered the truth…the thought had him clenching his fists. Before he could think better of it, he was chasing after the constable. “It was me, I’m the one you want. Release the woman.”
Adelaide turned as the constable released her hands that were pinned behind her.
“What are you doing?” She asked, searching him with pained eyes.
He gave her one last kiss, and whispered “Go,” before offering up his wrists to the officer.
He watched Adelaide, standing in silent pain over the only person who had ever sacrificed for her benefit, as he was led away.”
Adelaide
The putrid smell of rot and refuse and saltwater hit him in the face like a strike.
He tried to sit up, but the swaying motion of the ocean conveyance robbed him of his equilibrium.
He collapsed again on a mattress in a room that looked like the first mate’s quarters, holding his head.
He pulled his hand away to discover dried blood at his fingertips.
Fitzwilliam Pomfrey had been born to immense privilege.
He’d never known open love from his father, not like his friends the Pembrookes had known from theirs, but Fitz had never known a day without the comfort of material possessions.
Until his father had died before his 22nd birthday.
It had been a day that bore a watermark, a day that signified the loss of so very many things.
His mother had enlisted the support of her wealthy and connected parents and their connections to ensure that his uncle’s control over Fitz’ more-than-modest inheritance was minimal.
Still, the man, as the oldest brother of a peer and the uncle of an heir, had some authority.
For several years, Fitz had been content to simply thumb his nose at his father’s expectations of him; and his uncle’s attempts to watch him, or have him watched, like a hawk.
The ship lurched again, but Fitz was still reliving the past.
When he’d matured, Fitz had started to look for a way out.
He’d found ways to rebel his whole life, but upon his initial courtship of Lady Noelle, he’d realized he could do more than that.
He’d started corresponding with her under the guise of Queen Victoria, offering her encouragement, news of the world outside her country home, witty turns of phrase… in short: companionship.
He’d thought he could contain his thoughts of her to those letters, but the feel of her in his arms that first time they’d danced…
that had been the start of something. She had been the making of him, and the undoing of his rudderless existence.
He realized now he should have told her.
He had been many things in his life, but few had felt as good as being a man she trusted, that she leaned on and knew that if she faltered he would catch her.
The words of his earlier conversation came back to him, his uncle threatening to expose his ruination of Lady Noelle.
His uncle had come through the secret passageway that night.
How many nights ago was that? There was something in the older man’s eyes, like a cornered animal out of options, out of rope.
“The girl will be ruined.”
“No. She won’t. You will not hurt her. Take me and leave her. She isn’t your leverage. I’m your leverage.”
“Suppose you’re right, nephew. Someone is already waiting in the wings to take your place.”
His stomach turned suddenly cold at the conjuring of the man’s leers toward the girl curled up in Fitz’s bed, he had to fight against the rising bile in his throat.
“Who?” He’d demanded.
“Someone with equal investment in your…disappearance.”
“Who?” He’d demanded a second time.
He’d been surprised to hear the name that his uncle had given.
He hadn’t thought the man even had a spine.
Apparently, he’d been willing to get Fitz out of the way in order to secure her dowry, not knowing there wouldn’t be much of it left, and Adelaide.
Besides all of that, Noelle herself…was priceless.
He wanted to be everything he saw in her eyes when she looked at him behind those spectacles.
He wanted to be her security.
He loved her. He wanted to give her everything that she deserved, to be the man that she deserved. He’d never dreamed that all of it could lead him here. On this grimy, swaying ship.
The muscle his uncle had brought with him had pushed Fitz into the hidden stairwell at gunpoint even as he struggled against his bonds.
They’d left her untouched, she was essential to their plan.
He had to hope the hound and the protective measures he’d put in place in the event of his disappearance would work.
At some point, Fitz supposed he’d been knocked in the head. He had a large bruise at his temple, and at his ribs. Still, he felt the separation from her, in the aftermath of finally making love to her, like a deepening wound sprinkled with salt.
Dear God, he prayed, please keep her safe.
He had been someone to her, he didn’t want to have that taken away from him just as he’d finally been something to someone.
He’d made so many things better in the short time he’d been with her, but he’d made so many mistakes.
He’d told her he loved her, he had loved her, body and soul, and then he had disappeared.
What must she think of him now? The thought caused more nausea than his environs did.
There was a knock at the door; and a dizzy-aged woman entered bearing a tray of bread and steaming broth. Her kind, faded blue eyes and gentle voice set him at ease as much as the sustenance she carried.
“Ye should eat something, me’lord.”
He tore off a bite of the bread and dipped it in the broth before taking a bite.
He turned to the woman. “Pardon?”
“The fellers above, they claim yer Lord Swindle.” She buttered the crust of the bread and extended it to him.
He took the bread, confirming, “Adelaide’s lord?” Fitz mind reeled. He thought back to the penny novels he’d had made up of Adelaide, instantly grateful he had.
Lord Swindle, Adelaide’s true love, had turned himself in and taken her place as the suspect of fraud when she married another man for the title and security she had sought that he couldn’t give her.
He’d told himself upon reading that he’d sooner die than give up the woman he loved.
But then, he remembered the ending of Adelaide.
A plan started to form in his mind.
“Yes, madam. I am. I’m flattered you’d-”
The woman glanced over her shoulder and shut the door behind her.
“Several of the ladies in the kitchen passed around the penny novel, discussed it for weeks.
The head cook learned how to read so she can read the cookery books, finally had a reason to teach us all to read.
The way you gave yerself up for ‘er,” she clutched her hand to her chest, “Gave an old woman hope. I am at yer service, me lord.”
“Then you know I am no true lord.”
She gave him a wink, “In every way that matters, Swindle, ye are. Tell me how I can be of help.”