“It seems to have taken place over my middle name.” She laughed, knowing the action of breathing deep would push her further to spilling out. She ran one finger over the edge of the dress’s neckline. “Should I find another?” He might never be her husband but by God she was happy he was her lover, however briefly.
He shook his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard beneath his beard. He closed his eyes for a moment and then, when he opened them, he reached for the pelisse and helped her put it on, buttoning it all the way to her neck. “Much better.”
At the bottom of the pile of clothes were a pair of slippers suited only for a ballroom but she put them on anyway. Better than having bare feet.
Within moments, Darius was back. “Come,” he said, gesturing towards the door. “I want you all where I can see you while we dock.”
“Not worried I’ll learn where you put in and come back for you?” Daniella taunted quietly.
“Not at all,” he returned in the same sure tone, taking in her attire and smiling.
Arrogant son of a bitch. She hoped justice caught up with Darius and humiliated him—and that she’d be there to see it. The man had far too much self-worth.
“Before we leave the ship, I have a request.” James approached her, taking her hands in his.
“What is it?” she asked, her heart in her throat. She’d not seen that look in his eyes before.
He kissed first one knuckle and then the other. “I want you to marry me now, here, on the ship.”
No! “But… What about… We haven’t properly discussed any of this. Where will we live? How many months of the year and how many sons? We haven’t discussed any of it.”
“Daniella, I won’t die an honourless man. If your father or Darius here ends my life, you’ll be wealthy enough to damn everyone to hell, buy your own ship and sail it wherever you please. What does it matter the details or a few hours? You promised me and I’m worried you will find a way to back out when the smoke clears. I need to do this.”
Staring into the fathomless depths of his eyes amidst the bruising, seeing the sincerity there, how could she possibly deny him? But. “If this is indeed about honour, I already know you have it. We all know you have it otherwise we wouldn’t be standing here right now. I don’t want you to do this because you have to.”
“I don’t have to. I want to. I want you to be my wife, Daniella. I need to make sure you will be all right and not sent back to England to be married to one of your brother’s cronies if it all goes wrong.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.” It was easy for him to relinquish control of one situation but he was asking her to do it for a lifetime.
Darius hit the door with his fist, gaining her attention. “Dammit, woman, marry the man. You might be the only barrier between your father’s sword and your lover’s heart.”
Even though she had nothing to be embarrassed about, her cheeks still warmed at the crude assessment of their relationship. Then the thought came to her. What was marriage anyway? They were in Scottish waters and could be married by a child but at the end of the day it was words spoken. They weren’t in a church. They didn’t stand before their friends and family and God. Their marriage could be whatever they made it without the church dictating the definition of wife. “All right.”
James sucked in a breath. “All right?” he asked, scepticism all over his face.
“I’ll marry you and take your money if you die.”
He regarded her for a few moments and then his lips lifted and he drew her into his embrace, kissing her hard and fast. When he was done putting on his show, he pulled back. “That doesn’t mean you can be the one to kill me.”
Daniella laughed. She hadn’t even thought of it. This time. “I give you my word.”
Darius stepped up and put his hand over theirs. “I proclaim you man and wife before witnesses and God.”
James looked up. “That’s it?”
Darius nodded. “You don’t even need that much ceremony but I wanted to be the one to make it official.” He looked to Daniella. “Make sure, when your father asks who was fool enough to join the two of you in marriage, to tell him it was me.”
He was getting some kind of sick satisfaction out of it. God only knew why. There was no time to ponder the question further as they were taken above deck and told to sit. They were then bound together with one length of rope so if any one man thought to jump overboard, they would all go. Then they would all drown.
That would be a great start to married life. Married. She was someone’s wife. She was James’s wife. A giddy lightness dissolved the stone in her stomach and she smiled.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was a three-hour carriage ride from where Darius docked his boat but James had no chance in that time to speak to Daniella at all. No one talked. It was as though they all held their breaths, waiting for the next step in the dance to reveal itself. He wished it would damn well hurry up. He’d told Patrick and Hobson he was happy to hand over control, and he was, but he didn’t have to like the waiting. Or the silence.
“So, Darius, have you made contact with Germaine?” James asked, finally having had enough.
The other man nodded. “I have, though not on this run.”
“How did he seem to you?” Daniella interjected.
“Old, even then,” Darius admitted in a wistful tone. “And I
