“I’m not. I don’t even know your father.” His eyes swam with moisture as he gingerly felt the bridge of his nose to be sure the chit hadn’t broken it. Damn, that had hurt.
“You don’t have to lie; I won’t tell James.”
“Come now, lass, I don’t believe that for even a hen’s heartbeat.”
She stopped, threw him a glare and then continued her pacing.
“With luck, you won’t see him again anyway.” Patrick took her arm and began towing her back towards the barn. But what to do with her while he saddled his horse? And what of supplies? They would need more than the dried bread and small amount of clean water he had left from the day’s ride.
“Where is my father? Is he near? Did he come by carriage or by ship?”
“I told you already, lass, I don’t know your father. Yet.” Patrick transferred his grip from her arm to her wrist but still he pulled her along.
Daniella reclaimed her wits and resisted, throwing all of her inconsiderable body weight in the opposite direction until he was forced to stop or drag her along the ground. “What is going on?”
He tugged on her arm, maybe a little harder than he should have, but they had to be away from there before she was missed and a search organized. “We have to go. Now.”
She tugged again, her feet digging in. “I was not escaping. I’m going for a walk. You can tell Trelissick that I will come back in one hour if he should ask.”
“You’re not escaping?” This time he stopped. He turned and regarded her with a raised brow.
“No. I just want to dip my feet in the ocean. I’m not used to being stuck in a carriage with His Highness for days on end.”
“We don’t have time for this. I have to get you away from here.”
“Why?”
After hours of Patrick pressing home that he couldn’t fully help to protect Daniella if he didn’t have all the facts, Hobson had finally revealed why the party travelled together. When he heard what Lasterton was hoping to recover from Captain Germaine, he’d barely been able to hide his fury.
Was there no line the marquess, the Butcher, wouldn’t cross? There, in the harsh truth, was the reason Patrick hadn’t been able to find any trace of Amelia. Whatever he’d feared her brother had done—sent her to a convent; even smothered her, as murderous as the dead eldest Trelissick—he certainly hadn’t imagined he’d let her be taken by pirates. When he realized she was gone, he’d had nothing to go on and no one to ask. He had tried to gather information from the household but Trelissick had few servants in the city and he couldn’t risk his questions getting back to the marquess. Then the damned man had gone to ground and Patrick had wasted months traveling back and forth between Trelissick’s country estate and his house in the capital. One night his watching had paid off when the marquess had snuck into his own house via the servants’ entrance to the kitchens, dressed in dirty trousers, a shirt that had once been white and a coat that could barely be described as such. Not exactly the actions of a ton gentleman.
Patrick stared at Daniella, exasperated. “Why? Why would you want to stay with a man such as he? I can take you to your father but we have to go now.”
“But you just said you don’t know my father.”
“I don’t. I just want Amelia back.”
“Amelia? The marquess’s sister? What has she to do with my father?”
“Do you know nothing?”
“I have never been so confused! I thought Amelia and James’s mother were traveling on the continent?”
“Did you never wonder why the marquess truly has you?”
“My father has something of his and James is to swap me for…” Realization dawned on her face and her eyes widened. “You’re wrong. What would he…? How would he…? No. I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it, lass, heard it from Hobson myself this afternoon. A daughter in exchange for a mother and sister.”
She paused, clearly evaluating this new information. “You can’t take me to him: it isn’t the same.”
“Same what? Why can I not be the one to trade you?”
“You have no leverage. My father will order you to return me to London. There is no danger about you.”
That should have smarted but it didn’t. Now he was the confused one. “What is the danger behind Trelissick?”
Daniella shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut and Patrick had to curl his fingers so as not to scare the truth from her.
“It’s a long story,” she said with a sigh.
“Here’s the story as I know it. Your da has Amelia and I am going to get her back before all of this scheming sends her to the bottom of the ocean. I have to find her. She is—She is not…strong.”
“If the captain does have her, he won’t hurt her.”
“He’s a bloody pirate! And if he harms a hair on her head, he will have me to answer to!”
Patrick ground his teeth as Daniella shook her head, her expression one of defeat, of resignation, of exhaustion. “Why do men think they can solve every problem with threats? If my father holds Amelia, he does so for a good reason.”
Patrick made to interrupt but Daniella raised a hand between them and shook her head.
“It is not in his nature to hurt a defenceless woman. Despite what you’ve heard about pirates, my father’s crew are not defilers of young ladies nor burners of villages nor killers of children. If, and I do mean if because I am beginning to think you are all quite mad, if he has Amelia and has not ransomed her, then his quarrel is with Trelissick and not you. You have not earned yourself his nickname. You did not stab my father in the leg so that he lost it. You did not take his livelihood and adventure away from him. Trelissick did. Trelissick is the only
