Falling for the Pirate (17 page)

She’d never meant anything to him but as an object.

She laughed hollowly. But what a poor prize. Skin instead of pearl inlay, and eyelashes where gold trim should be. Unlike the rest of the ornaments in this room, she had no worth except that which Nate assigned her. Abandoned by her father. Ruined for society. She was not wanted by anyone—apparently, not even by the man she loved.

Chapter Seventeen

Nate paced along the front of Hargate Shipping with Wilson’s allegation ringing in his ears. His men had since dragged him inside the offices while Nate determined what the hell to do with him. But he couldn’t get past the accusation.

Bennett. A spy.

Nate had once accused Juliana of being just such an agent. It wasn’t uncommon. Wealthy and titled gentleman might own the trading companies, but they could cheat and lie and steal with the best of them. The docks were a wild place, a cutthroat’s paradise, and Nate had always felt right at home.

Not anymore. Now he felt ill, imagining Bennett lying to him and slinking around his offices. Reporting back to some competitor. Reporting back to
Hargate.
No wonder Bennett had been so reluctant to speak openly to Nate.

His entire presence was a damned lie.

There was no proof that Bennett had been a spy, nothing but Wilson’s word. Wilson, who had already proven himself unstable. And yet Nate instinctively knew it was true. He had recognized the guilt in Bennett’s eyes too many times. He’d assumed it was a byproduct of his rough upbringing, but this— Christ, it made a sick sort of sense.

A figure strode out of the shadows. Nate tensed. A light mist had begun to fall, filling the air with reflective light. He relaxed when he saw who it was. Santiago looked rumpled—his clothing less elaborate and sharp than usual—but his gaze was fully alert, his expression concerned.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing serious. At least, not yet.” Not until he found Hargate and Bennett.
And then what?

“The girl said something about a fire.”

“You remember Wilson? He expressed his displeasure with my captaincy by attacking the ship. I wish you would have stayed put at home. The women would be safer with you there.”

He had a brief bad moment thinking about Bennett in his new light. But the boy would never hurt Juliana. Nate knew that in his gut.

But it did occur to him that the fire would be a perfect distraction. All of his attention would be on the ship. No one would be at his home.

Except the woman he loved.

“You worry for her?” His old friend scoffed. “She told me her name. I know who she is. Have you forgotten your enemy so quickly?”

“I have forgotten nothing,” he snapped. “And Juliana Hargate is not my enemy. Her father is.”

Santiago shook his head. “Well, you needn’t worry. All was well when I left the house, and by now she is safely in your bed, I presume.”

After a brief moment of profound relief, a dark, protective instinct rose up at his friend’s casual insult. “Watch yourself.”

“So that’s the way of it, eh?”

“It is.”

Santiago studied him, eyes narrowed. A moment passed. “Then let me be the first to congratulate you.”

“Thank you. Now that you’re here, make yourself useful and handle Wilson.”

A grim look entered Santiago’s eyes. “I’ll do that.”

“No, old friend. I’m asking you to hand him over to the magistrate. Sinclair should arrive shortly.” The duke would no doubt be furious about the additional delays. It was costing them a fortune—money that had been lost because Nate had insisted on decades-old justice and revenge. Nate had been mired in the past, unable to pull free.

“You trust the authorities?” Santiago asked.

“We’re legitimate men of commerce now. That means working in the system, not fighting it.”

Juliana had taught him that. He had been burned before. But true courage lay in risking the flame again. Trusting her, loving her. That was the risk he took. All the while fearing for her safety. Even now, the worry beat beneath his heart, drawing him away from his ship and his work.

Santiago snorted, then realized he was serious. “After what they did to you?”

The rain fell harder, pelting them. Lightning lit up the sky. “She’s worth it,” Nate murmured over the roar. And suddenly, urgently, he knew what he must do.

A hackney passed by, splashing their legs with freezing water. He hailed it and hauled himself up against the damp squabs.

“Where are you going?” Santiago shouted.

“To tell her that.”

To tell her everything
. She deserved to know his entire past. She deserved to know the role he had played in her ruin. And most of all, she deserved the chance to leave him—for that was what he surely deserved.

He could only hope she wouldn’t.

…

Thunder cracked from outside, rattling the window pane. Footsteps shuffled outside the door.
Nate.
He was home, and that meant he was safe. Juliana didn’t know why she worried about that. But she did.
A prank,
he’d called the fire. But she felt something sinister move through the air, a warning blowing with the wind.

The door to the study opened. Bennett stepped inside, just halfway. Her heart sank. It wasn’t Nate after all. The boy must have woken up, judging by his mussed hair.

But then he came farther into the room—he was pushed, actually, by someone from behind. At first she didn’t recognize the man, so gaunt and tattered. He was wet, too, having come in from the rain. He pressed a pistol to Bennett’s back.

A pistol.

Juliana took a step forward, prepared to stand in front of Bennett as she had earlier. But she was too far away this time, and approaching the stranger would only put the boy in peril. Except—

The man wasn’t a stranger.

“Juliana,” he said, and then she knew for certain.

Her heart squeezed unbearably, until there should have been nothing left. So it shouldn’t have hurt so badly to see such brutal, irrefutable confirmation that her father had betrayed her. And it shouldn’t have made her feel better that he had clearly suffered for his actions. But neither of those things were true.

Because he was her father, and she still loved him.

“Oh, Papa. What have you done?”

But she found she hated him, too.

“What have
I
done? It is another man who ruined us. That’s why I’m here. To retrieve what is mine.”

Was he delusional? Her father’s knuckles turned white with the force of his hold on Bennett’s shoulder.

“Let him go! Bennett is just a child!”

Her father laughed. “But not so innocent, is he?”

Bennett shuddered, hands clasped around his waist as if he might be sick. He hadn’t met her gaze since coming in here. Fear? Or guilt?

“Bennett?” she asked, her heart taking another direct hit.

“No qualms with taking my coin,” her father continued. “And then suddenly it’s ‘no, I won’t be helping you any longer.’ Well, that’s all right. Luckily, I won’t need your services after tonight.”

“Did you let him in?” she asked the boy in a whisper.

Bennett shook his head, but she knew what it really meant—regret. He
had
let her father in. He’d spied on Nate’s company, just as Nate had once accused her of doing. Apparently, the man she loved wasn’t paranoid—simply prescient.

She’d truly cared for Bennett, and he’d betrayed her. The same was true of her father. The double impact stole her breath. Though she could see that the boy was a pawn, of sorts, it still hurt to know that someone she cared for would turn on her. Her father. Bennett.

And Nate?

He had already withheld the truth from her. A truth he’d known would make her reject him. She wouldn’t have agreed to his proposal.
Wouldn’t have slept in his bed.
Was
that
why he hadn’t told her he now owned Hargate Shipping?

She suddenly felt all alone. And small. Even when she had been ejected from her home, walking the streets, she hadn’t felt as low as she did now, facing down her father.

“What do you want?” she asked with more boldness than she felt.

Her father made a vague gesture to the treasure-laden bookshelves. “The same thing you do. Bowen’s money.
My
money. He stole it, you know. Or did he not mention that while he was swiving you?”

She gasped as her stomach turned over. “Father, what’s happened to you?”

“Offended your sensibilities, have I? I was too soft on you, girl. You should have been married off by now. Not spreading your legs for a ship’s captain.”

Anger rose up in her. “I’d rather an honest ship’s captain than a thief. He didn’t steal your money, Father.
You
did. You embezzled from your own company, didn’t you? And then you were caught. Nate may have bought Hargate Shipping for a low price, but he didn’t break the law.”

Her father’s face turned mottled. “
He
was the one who alerted the authorities in the first place!”

Her father was going mad. Either that, or she was. “Why would he do that? How would he even know you were embezzling?”

“At first I thought it was that meddling duke,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Until I spoke to Bowen myself. Can you imagine? All these years later. He was just a child! How was I to know?”

She frowned. “Father, you aren’t making sense.”

His eyes focused on her, bloodshot and shaky. “It was your precious captain who ruined me. He bribed the authorities to investigate me and then stole my company at a low price. He is responsible for your loss of fortune, Juliana. And then he took full advantage.”

“But why would he do that?”

A voice came from the doorway. “Because he did the same to me.”

Nate stood there, dripping wet and pointing a pistol at her father. His coat dripped onto the floor. He wore no hat, and the rain had turned his hair into slick onyx ribbons. He looked at once feral and beautiful. “He ruined my parents and robbed me of my family, my future.”

Bewildered, she stared at him. He couldn’t possibly mean what she thought—

But Nate had turned to her father. “You went a step further, though, didn’t you? Why don’t you tell Juliana how you achieved your ends?”

“I— I didn’t—” Her father clutched Bennett to him, pressing the barrel of his pistol to the boy’s temple.

“I’m sorry,” Bennett whispered. The boy had sobbed his heart out in the carriage when he’d feared Nate’s wrath. But now, facing him, he was solemn and dry-eyed. “I didn’t want to do it, Cap’n.”

Nate ignored him. “Let your daughter and the boy go. You and I will discuss this as men.”

Her father scoffed. “So you can shoot me?”

Nate’s gaze flicked to her for a split second, than back to her father. “It would be fitting, don’t you think?”

The words rang in the room, echoing through the silence. She went deathly cold. Nate’s parents had been murdered, leaving him orphaned. She remembered that he’d witnessed their deaths. “Father…tell me you didn’t kill his parents.
Please.
”

“I didn’t! It was my business partner. He had the idea. He did the deed himself.”

Nate’s eyes flashed like fire. “And it’s a pity he was already at the bottom of the ocean by the time I was free, so I couldn’t have the pleasure of killing him myself. But you…you will stand in for him, won’t you? As his partner?”

“No! Wait. I didn’t want— Didn’t like it, the dirty business.”

Nate’s laugh sent chills down her spine. “Very dirty business, especially when there was a witness. A child. Unreliable, don’t you think? Still, you would always wonder if he would identify the murderer.”

Her father swallowed thickly. His gaze darted to the corners of the room like a trapped animal.

“So if the opportunity presented itself, best to get rid of him,” Nate continued. “For example, on a prison hulk. I was only starving because of what you did to my parents. But when I was caught for stealing that damned loaf of bread—”

“How
could
you? He was a
child
!” Juliana choked out, but her father gave no response. Besides, what could he say? There was no defense for such cruelty.

The cells were four feet by six, including the sleeping bench. The prisoners were shackled at all times, even inside. We were fed once a day through a space in the cell door. Though sometimes not.

“He had me sentenced as an adult,” Nate said flatly. “Sent me to prison for three years. Would have been longer if the abuses in the prison hadn’t been discovered. They pardoned almost everyone on board just to avoid scandal.”

“Oh, God,” she cried. “Nate. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t even look at her as he spoke to her father. “I already know the value of the fortune you stole. But how much do you suppose those years of my life are worth? Or the lives of my parents?”

Her father seemed to realize his jeopardy then. His eyes widened. He yanked Bennett closer and stumbled backward, but there was nowhere left to go. His back hit the wall, rattling a jewelry box on the shelf next to them.

Nate took a step forward that seemed to cover half the room. “Were they worth your life, Hargate? Your daughter’s?”

“Now, see here! You have no business touching her. Penniless or not, she’s above you.”

“On that point, we can agree. However, I told you once before to stay away. I let you live the first time as a courtesy to her. I’m not particularly inclined to do it again.”

Chapter Eighteen

Nate felt Juliana move to his side. A sense of illicit pride filled him. The man who’d ruined her was in a stand-off with her own father, and she had chosen the former. She’d chosen Nate.

Hargate was right. He didn’t deserve her.

But by some miracle, she loved him, and she trusted him.

Everything would be all right, after all
.

She looked up at Nate, her eyes like moons, imploring. “Don’t shoot him.”

Or not
.

Her plea sliced through him like a bayonet. He shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t a betrayal, because he didn’t deserve her loyalty.

He’d just wanted it so damn much.

“Please, Nate. You’ll go to prison again,” she said, her expression worried. It was a façade, that worry. A reflection of what she felt for her father, her flesh and blood. Not for Nate.

“Why would you care?” he asked her harshly.

Her eyes darkened with what looked like pain. “I care about you,” she whispered. “You know that.”

The part of him that had been tearing down the middle finally split. And he knew he would spare her father’s life. He wouldn’t let Hargate hurt her or Bennett. Wouldn’t let him escape, either. But he would do his best not to kill him.

Beseeching, Hargate spoke to his daughter. “Come with me, Juliana. He won’t shoot you, and I still have the boy. We can take enough from this room alone to live on. We can go to another country. Italy. Jamaica. I don’t care. We can start over.”

Nate’s gut clenched. He was almost afraid to see Juliana’s face. What if she said yes? Even if she refused, he might see that she wanted to go. And how could Nate deny her that? She deserved a fresh start, even if Hargate didn’t.

“No, Father,” she said softly. “You must answer for what you’ve done.”

“You’ll be ruined, too!” Hargate grew frantic, his grip on the pistol slipping. “You’ll be his whore. You’ll—”

That same primitive protectiveness rose up in Nate. “Do
not
speak to her.”

Hargate’s gaze darted to him. His gaze narrowed. “You. You
defiled
her. You used her. Do you think she’ll cry over your dead body?”

The older man raised his pistol. Nate whipped up his own to shoot first, but there was a blur as Juliana jumped in front of him.

No!
He heard the report of the gun as he swung her out of the way.
Too late
.

Her father staggered backward, his pistol aimed at a gaping hole in the ceiling. Bennett had leapt onto his back and was clinging there, clawing at him like a wildcat. They spun, off balance, slamming into the wall. A large stone urn on the top shelf wobbled. Nate lunged forward and snatched Bennett away just as the urn crashed down on Hargate’s head.

In the silence, all that could be heard were three panting breaths.

Juliana’s eyes filled with tears. “Is he— Is he…”

Nate checked Hargate’s pulse. “He’s not dead. Though, he won’t feel very well upon waking.”

…

Nate sent Juliana and Bennett upstairs to rest. He ran his thumb over the blunted engraving on the locket he’d found on his desk. Telling himself that his first impulse was to keep it. If he couldn’t keep the woman it belonged to, he could have her necklace. Something to remember her by.

But the shiny objects on his shelves had never satisfied the gnawing need inside him. Only Juliana had done that.

Sinclair arrived fashionably late, as usual. He glanced down at Hargate on the floor. “Bound and gagged? Was that necessary?”

Nate slipped the necklace in his pocket. “He insulted Juliana.”

“Ah.” Adrian crouched beside Hargate’s head.

The man began mumbling behind the cloth, beseeching. He probably saw the cut of Sinclair’s cloth, his obvious high rank, and assumed he would grant asylum. However, despite the diamond pin and impeccable hair, the Duke of Sinclair was brutal—at least, when it came to men who tried to steal from him. There had, unfortunately, been many such men.

Adrian pulled out a knife—elegant, of course. Hargate’s eyes widened and he redoubled his efforts of babbling behind the gag. The duke’s long fingers stroked the blade, close enough to be sliced, but skilled enough to come away clean. A little threat demonstration. He would enjoy that.

“You can leave if you’d like,” Adrian said to Nate. “I’m sure you have things to take care of. Hargate and I will have a little chat.”

Leave? Hargate was finally at Nate’s mercy. Hell, he could kill the man with impunity considering he had broken into Nate’s house. He should be sending Adrian away, not the other way around.

Not so very long ago, this had been Nate’s dream. To ruin the man—his finances, his position in society. And after, Nate had planned a more carnal repayment. He’d wanted to kill the man. That sole thought had kept him warm through the miserable years on that prison hulk and for another decade as he’d built himself up from nothing.

But over the past few weeks, in coming to know Juliana, in learning to love her, he had stopped seeking vengeance. She was more important.

Now, all he felt was disgust for her father.

“Try not to do much damage,” Nate said. “That rug is seventy-five years old.”

“I make no promises.”

Hargate’s urgent protests were muffled. He must have figured out that Adrian was the one to be feared, after all. Nate wondered briefly if Adrian would actually hurt the man. Then he didn’t care. His mind had already turned to the people upstairs.

He longed to speak to Juliana, but he had something to take care of first. Mrs. Wheaton had told him that Bennett was in the spare bedroom, a room he would forever associate with Juliana. In those early days, he’d been fascinated with her—though he hadn’t known who she was. Now that he
did
know who she was, and how vibrantly she lived and loved, he was thoroughly, permanently ensnared.

He found the boy inside, perched on the edge of the bed.

Bennett’s expression was filled with dread and resignation. He believed the worst was coming, but he still met Nate’s eyes. He started to stand.

“No, stay there.” Nate sat beside him. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you want to explain what happened?”

A pause. “Yes, sir. When Mr. Hargate first approached me, he offered me a guinea if I would tell him the shipping route we had used last. It was more money than I had ever had and…and I didn’t trust you yet. I thought you might throw me out at any time, and then at least I’d have a guinea.”

“I see.” Unfortunately, he saw too well. He knew what it was like to be starving and desperate. He knew what it was like to steal a loaf of bread to ease the gnawing pain in your belly. Bennett may have had food and shelter at the time, but they both knew the position of an orphan was tenuous and unprotected.

“He said it was just that one time, but then he came back wanting more. I told him no. I tried to give the money back, too, but he said he’d tell you what I’d done and you’d make me leave for sure.”

“You did more than answer his questions, didn’t you?”

“Then he wanted me to get papers for him. I couldn’t…I couldn’t refuse. I never wanted you to find out.”

Nate sighed. It hurt to know Bennett had been stealing information from him, but the wicked games played by the so-called gentle class were no match for him. Hargate had used the child and discarded him.

Bennett stood up. His chest puffed out in what looked more like protection than pride. “Sir, if you wish me to leave, I will do so. If you prefer to alert the authorities, or if you have some other punishment in mind…I would bear it without complaint.”

“I’m not going to beat you.” Jesus, he had to work on his reputation. And for once that didn’t mean being
more
intimidating. “I’m not going to make you leave, either.”

Bennett stared at him, wide-eyed.

Nate softened. “Everyone makes mistakes, Bennett. Lord knows I’ve made my share. But you also protected Juliana when it counted, and for that I owe you.” He would never forget the abject terror of seeing Juliana jump in front of him, of hearing the blast of the gun. Of thinking she had been killed. Yes, he owed Bennett for that, and the requisite currency was forgiveness. “Whatever happens, you won’t have to leave.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Bennett asked cautiously.

Actually, he planned to ask Juliana for her advice. If she was still speaking to him. “I haven’t decided that yet. It will take time to rebuild the trust between us—and that goes both ways. But we’ll figure it out together.”