Daniella shook her head. He was right: it was hopeless. “I need to think on it.”
She’d been featherbrained enough to spend an hour imagining her father returning James’s family, not angry with her for her childish stunts because she was a happily married lady. He would give her the ship and her husband would sail alongside her. Now she had to finally admit that for the foolishness it was. She wiped angry tears from her eyes and cheeks and set her feet, one after another, down the carpeted stair to the hall below. She’d blatantly ignored any other outcomes because it was too painful to think of her father pushing her away again, after everything she’d done to get back here.
“Daniella!”
She ignored the shouts from behind her and kept going. She had to be alone with her thoughts and her devastation. She threw all of her weight behind the inn door and blinked against the sunshine but still she didn’t stop. Bleak despair resettled like a boulder in the pit of her stomach.
“Daniella, stop!”
“Why? So you can lock me back up until my father comes for me? Or so I can write your damned letter and absolve you of everything?”
“Please, we need to talk about this.”
She whirled around so suddenly in the middle of the road that James had to skid to a stop to avoid smashing into her. “What do you want from me? I can’t do it your way and you won’t bend at all.”
James considered her before saying, “Can’t? Or won’t?”
She was silent for a time as she thought of her answer. Won’t. If she had to choose one, it was won’t. That life wasn’t for her. But how do you know? Whispered on the wind. “Please, you have to know this won’t work.”
“Give it twelve months, Daniella. Let me show you the possibilities.”
She was about to give in, about to tell him she would try because now that she’d spent time with him, she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend time without him. His gaze lifted over her shoulder and a different kind of tension stiffened his spine. “I don’t believe it.”
She spun around. “What are you looking—?” There, on the side of the road with a wide smile on his face was her father, leaning heavily on his cane, arm in arm with a pretty blonde woman on one side and a heavily pregnant girl on the other.
Daniella’s heart gave a thump-thump and then ceased beating altogether. “Papa?”
She stepped forwards, her hand out, a lump in her throat and tears now falling unheeded down her face. But then an iron-strong arm wrapped around her middle and pulled her back.
“What are you doing? Let me go!”
“I can’t do that, Daniella.”
“Papa?” she shrieked and kicked out with all the fury she had singing in her veins.
Chapter Thirty
“Daniella, calm down.” Was he really seeing what he was seeing? Surely he’d fallen down the stairs and split his skull? He must have died there on the floor and gone to hell.
Hobson exploded from the door of the inn behind them and James passed Daniella to him. He ran across the street, heedless of animals, carriages, people. Without warning, he barrelled into Captain Germaine, knocking him off his feet. Or rather, foot. They went down and as they did James landed a right hook to the older man’s jaw. After sliding a few feet, he regained his balance, prepared to attack the man again. “Get up, you filthy dog.”
A screeching reached his ears over the blood pounding there. He ignored it all. He would have satisfaction and he would not stop until one of them was dead. “Get up!” he raged. This was all Germaine’s fault. As he approached to kick the man, his mother appeared and threw her body over that of the captain’s.
“Mother, run! Take Amelia and get to safety.”
She met his gaze with worry, with concern, with…shame? “What are you doing here, James? How did you find us?”
“I’m rescuing you. I’ll kill him for what he’s done to you both.” He wasn’t ready to look for Amelia in the growing crowd. Once was enough to know someone had taken advantage of his sister. He would kill that son of a bitch as well.
“What he’s done? What are you talking about?” Why didn’t his mother look scared? Why did she protect her captor?
“Have you lost your mind?” Daniella shouted as she threw herself to her father’s other side.
“What did you think would happen, Daniella? That I wouldn’t notice my pregnant sister and not demand an accounting?” He addressed Germaine who now sat on the ground but hadn’t yet risen to his feet. “After you die, the man who raped my sister is next. Do you understand me, old man? Now get up.”
Germaine stared at him in confusion. “Raped your…?” He seemed very dazed as he turned his face to Daniella. “What are you doing here? Who is this boy? What is he talking about? What happened to your neck?”
James wasn’t hearing the words he wanted to. “Are you going to deny keeping my mother and Amelia prisoner all these months?”
Amelia stepped forwards then and took their mother by the shoulders and helped her from the ground. “Mama, we knew this might happen, and now we are making a scene. Shall we take this discussion somewhere more private?”
“I say we settle it right here, right now,” James suggested with a growl, his fists raised.
Daniella jumped to her feet and came at him. “You can’t kill my father. I won’t let you.”
“You can’t stop this, Daniella. Perhaps if my sister wasn’t sullied and increasing, things could have been different. We could have tried to find some middle ground where we both win. But that—” he pointed to Amelia and her distended stomach “—does not lie.”
“I’d hear my father’s version of events before I let you stab him again.” She held her arms out but stood fast.
“Stalling, my dear? I will go through you to get to him,
