For Love of the Earl (20 page)

Alec turned to her and without thinking, grabbed the parasol that hung from the crook of her elbow and tossed it into the water.
 
It fell just beside the residual rings in the water that the pocket watch had made seconds before.
 
The water closed over it, and it was gone.

"And that is what I think of you throwing my bloody watch into the water."
 

Sarah's mouth hung open, her eyes wide.
 
She stared at the place where her parasol had just disappeared, and it was a full breath before she turned back to him, her eyes angry slits.

"Wanker!"

"Shrew!" he yelled back, his hands moving to his hips.

His blood boiled now.
 
Sarah had looked down her nose at him for long enough.
 
If he had expected that he could ever make her love him, he had clearly been wrong.
 
Sarah would always think she was too good for him, and no amount of frivolity and laughter would ever change that.
 
Alec could never change that.

"I would prefer it if you could refrain from calling me names in public, countess, but perhaps your crude upbringing prevents such politeness."
 

It was as if he had slapped her.
 
The blood drained from her face, her skin going white and stark, and her breath caught in her chest.
 
He watched it freeze as she took a step back.
 
He had finally gotten to her.
 
After four years of trying to get any kind of response out of her, his rash words had done it.
 
And he hadn't even really meant them.
 

"Sarah?" he said, his hand once more outstretched between them as if he could remove whatever it was that had come over her.
 

But Sarah was already turning, moving away from him along the water, and his legs wouldn't move to follow her.
 
He had to sprint to catch up with her, but by then she had moved a few yards down the water behind a screen of trees along the water's edge.
 
The spot was more secluded, but it did not offer abject privacy.
 
Still, he caught her arm and drew her around.

"You needn't worry, my lord.
 
I shall not be calling you any names in the future."
 

"Sarah," he began, but she wasn't finished.

She pulled her arm away.
 
Her voice wobbled as if she were crying, but her eyes were dry.

"I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you, but I shall be a burden no longer.
 
I shall go to the War Office directly and ask for reassignment.
 
You must no longer worry on how to execute your departure from this situation."
 

She gestured between them as if to encompass everything that had occurred in four years.
 

He put his hands on her shoulders and dropped his voice as if soothing a startled animal.
 
He did not understanding what she was talking about, but perhaps he could coax her back to him, back to sanity, at least.

"Sarah, I must beg your forgiveness.
 
My words were careless, and I did not mean them.
 
Please accept my apologies."
 

But even as he spoke she shook her head.

"No, Alec.
 
I cannot forgive you for speaking the truth.
 
Now if you'll excuse me."
 

She tried to break free of his grasp and move away from him, but he did not let go.
 

"Sarah, please talk to me.
 
Really talk to me.
 
I do not know what has upset you.
 
I do not understand.
 
And I'm sorry I threw your parasol into the water.
 
That was extremely childish of me."
 

He hoped his tone carried with it the emotion he was too frightened to put into words.
 
But he hoped Sarah sensed it, understood it.

"Alec, you needn't worry any longer.
 
I know it must have upset you greatly to think on how you were going to remove yourself from this arrangement, but I will take the responsibility for that endeavor.
 
You needn't worry any longer.
 
I know when my welcome is overrun."
 

Her words made absolutely no sense to him, but he was not sure how to say such to her.
 
He knew that if he made her explain, she would get even angrier with him, and that would get them no where.
 

"Sarah-"
 

She wrenched free and moved back the way they had come, heading in the direction of the walking path.
 
Her shoulders stooped, and her walk was unsure and lopsided.
 
Alec felt the first drops of rain strike his face as he watched her dejected form move away from him.
 

But he could not let her leave.
 
He could not let her leave him.
 
The thought brought a surge of desperation to his heart.
 
He just needed more time.
 
Just a little more time to convince her that he was worthy of her love.
 

"Sarah," he called, trotting to catch up.
 

He made no move to grab her though lest he startle her into picking up her pace.
 
And it would not do for an earl of the realm to be seen chasing his wife across Hyde Park.
 
But Sarah stopped and turned, preventing the need to give chase.
 

"There is nothing more to say, Alec," she said, and her voice was flat with defeat.
 
"Good day, Lord Stryden."
 

She turned and walked directly into a big bloke of a man Alec had not seen.
 
He had been too wrapped up in his fight with Sarah to even notice the unkempt man with greasy hair.
 
Trepidation spiked through him in a flash, and he stepped up as if to save Sarah even as the man's beefy hands came down on Sarah's shoulders.
 

"Ye be the earl, then?" the man said, and when he smiled, daylight glinted off of a series of gold teeth in his mouth.

Alec knew then that something was wrong, but even as he thought it, he felt the grip of another unseen man come down on his arms.
 
He looked from side to side.
 
It was two men, in fact, equally as unkempt and menacing.
 

"I believe you have the wrong chap," he said, hoping to dispel them long enough to get Sarah and flee.
 

They were still cut off from direct sight of the walking path, but he knew that if he could just get them into view, these men would need to back off.
 
But Alec also knew there was something greater than these men at work here.
 
There always was.
 

"Oh, I'll not be fooled, me lord.
 
Your wifey here has been screaming your bloody title across the park.
 
Now if you don't mind, we all is going to take a fine trip to a lovely town called Dover."
   

CHAPTER NINE

On a ship bound for France

April 1815

It was after what felt like an entirety sitting carefully on the uncomfortable wooden chair that Alec wondered why Sarah had to throw his pocket watch into the Serpentine.
 
It had served no purpose other than to allow her to demonstrate some anger she felt, but clearly, it demonstrated very little to him.
 
And he very much wanted to know the time. He had gone to the bank of windows at the very back of the captain's quarters several times, but the clouds covered whatever moon there was.
 
Shore was an indistinct blot of lights in the distance, but he knew they had not left port.
 

And he had not returned to his wife.

Alec leaned his head back against the hard wooden chair and felt pain spread through every muscle in his body.
 
His shoulders ached, his arms ached, his legs ached, even the skin under his toenails ached.
 

But his mind wouldn't shut off, so he wouldn't have to feel the ache any more.
 

It was not just the physical aches of their journey, but the mental ache Sarah had aroused in him.
 
For four years, he had tried to figure out what to say to his wife to make her love him.
 
And every time he had tried, he had failed.
 
And now-

He didn't know.

He had made love to her.
 
Twice.
 
In the span of mere days.
 
After four years of marriage, they had finally consummated the act.

Alec lifted his head so fast he was surprised his head didn't pop off of his neck.
 
Sarah could be pregnant.
 
Alec felt the dread that had been simmering in his gut build to a full out boil.
 
Sarah was alone and possibly pregnant in a prison in the dank depths of a French ship, and he had left her.
 

Left her.
 

He took a deep breath and willed his mind to calm.
 
He didn't know what the possibility was of Sarah actually being pregnant.
 
He just knew that it were scientifically possible that she carried his child now.
 
An image of Sarah round with his baby sent an electric shock to his heart that had him standing up and striding toward the door.

But he stopped.

What was he going to do?

The captain had demanded his cooperation.
 
There was no cooperation to give.
 
He did not know why Thatcher was working with Lady Cavanaugh, and he certainly did not know why Thatcher had gone after Sven with the golden teeth.

And if he didn't cooperate, he would not be returned to Sarah.
 

He would be doing the very thing she had accused him of in the park right before Sven had taken them hostage.
 
He had not thought about what she had said then until this moment.
 
She had been yelling a lot, and he tended not to listen when she did that.
 
Sarah always yelled at him, and after a spell, it got rather boring.

But now he thought on it.

She was angry with him.
 
She was angry at him for doing something.

He had figured at the time she was angry at him for violating her space.
 
Taking advantage of her the previous night in a fit of amorous rage and then not finishing what he had started, but that wasn't right.
 

He had clearly taken advantage of her since then, and she had seemed to enjoy it very much.
 
Both times.

So what was it that she had been yelling at him about?

She kept saying something about him leaving.
 
He suddenly realized how many times those very words had left her mouth.
 
Not always in that exact way, but nearly always with the same intent.

Sarah thought he was going to leave.

He stood in the middle of the captain's quarters on a ship in the middle of the port of Dover on his way to be sold to the highest bidder to help damn Napoleon who had returned triumphant from exile, and all he could think about was the fact that his wife thought he was going to leave.
 

What the bloody hell was that all about?

He was not going to do any such thing.
 

So why would she think that?

He sat back down, resting his head in his hands as he propped his elbows on his knees.
 

Sarah thought he was going to leave her.
 
That was why she was so angry with him all the time.
 
That was why he could not make her laugh.
 
The crushing weight of hopelessness that he had carried for four years suddenly fell away like a drift of snow on an eave cascading down into the snowy banks below it, disappearing into a puddle of white.
 
All of the times Sarah had told him he was going to leave suddenly made sense, and worse, he finally understood what she had been saying the park.
 
She was going to leave before he did.

He straightened, his gaze fixated on the pile of dirty dishes on the table before him without seeing any of it.

He needed to convince Sarah that he was not going to leave her.
 
She needed to understand that he was never going to leave her.
 
And he couldn't bloody well do it trapped in the captain's quarters.
 

Alec stood and turned to the door.
 
He pulled on the handle and found it moved in his hand.
 
The door swung open as the ship pitched.
 
Alec bent his knees to compensate for the tilt, letting his muscles move with the fluidity of the boat.
 

Harpoon Man's evil twin stood out in the passageway, this one having more hair and less teeth that Alec could plainly see as the man bared the rotted stumps at him.
 

"Pardonnez moi," Alec whispered, very aware of the tension in the situation, "Ou es le captianne?"
 

"Ici, mon ami," Teyssier appeared out of the blackness, startling Alec enough that he backed into the open door.
 

Alec altered his grip on the door handle as the ship moved beneath his feet.
 

"Sir," Alec said, "I think I should be returned to the generous quarters you have provided for me on your fine ship.
 
I sincerely apologize that I am unable to aid you further in your confusion regarding the gentleman from the Colonies and the Italian countess.
 
I assure you that I know nothing about that set of circumstances."