“You…betrayed me. Can’t…forget.”
“You don’t have to forget, my love, you only have to say you’ll be mine.”
Another contraction, so much more severe than any of the others Daniella had witnessed, took hold of Amelia then. Patrick held her down while Jenson barked orders. Daniella did everything she was told to and then took Amelia’s hand in hers. “Take courage. Give your babe a name. Don’t curse him to—to the fringes of life.”
She’d never allowed herself to think like that at all. Perhaps that was why she yearned for her shipboard family. None of them belonged anywhere else.
“Please, my love, please say the words before it’s too late,” Patrick implored Amelia.
The blank look in her light eyes was frightening but then clarity appeared momentarily and she nodded. “I’ll be your wife.”
“Thank the Lord,” Patrick sighed.
“Excellent, man and wife, et cetera, et cetera,” Jenson said as he readied linens and took away soiled ones stained with the brightest of blood, then gathered his patient up so she was relatively upright, though her head lolled. “Amelia, sweeting, you’re going to have to push as soon as you feel the next big pain. Do you understand? You’re going to have to push as hard as you can.”
Daniella continued to stare at the blood: there was so much. Surely something was wrong. She shook herself and moved closer to help support the labouring girl.
“I can’t do it,” Amelia cried, her head thrashing on Jenson’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do.”
Jenson’s voice was soothing. “Just listen to your body. The baby grows impatient and wants to meet you. Just push. Now! Hold your breath and push!”
Chapter Thirty-Three
James had never been so terrified in all his life. The blood-curdling scream from The Aurora wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, but now it was coming from someone he loved.
He reined in and slid from the too-small saddle in one unsteady movement. He and Hobson had had to separate just in case they were going in the wrong direction.
So much time had passed. Anything could have happened.
He didn’t slow down as he ran on to the ship via the wobbly plank. But then he had to stop. He didn’t know his way around this ship. He didn’t know where Daniella was or who she was with. He had to pause; he had to think.
“’Ere, ’oo the fuck are you?” a voice rang out from behind him.
James turned and faced a wiry little man. His fingers flexed and curled. “Where is Daniella?”
“She’s below.”
Spying a door, James pushed the man out of the way and took off at a run just as another scream reached him. He was going to kill the man who dared touch her. He would burn the boat to the waterline, as he’d wanted to do all along.
Before he got too far along the below-decks corridor, he came to a wall of burly sailors. None looked particularly vicious or scary but all were definitely guarding the door at their backs. The room from which the awful sounds were coming.
“Stand aside,” he ordered them.
“Who are you?” one asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“James Trelissick. Stand aside. I’ll not let you hurt her anymore.”
“You can’t stop it, nabob,” another chimed, standing shoulder to shoulder with the first.
This time James’s fingers curled into fists and he stepped forwards. “You will not stop me getting to her.”
“Are you sure you want to take us all on? One little gentleman against the five of us?”
Stepping from one foot to the other, James rolled his head and cracked his knuckles in front of his stomach. “I’ll give it my best shot.” He would never go down without a fight. Not when it came to Daniella.
“I’ll take him,” one offered as another said, “This should be diverting.”
He pulled his arm back, ready to let loose, when he was grabbed from behind. At such close quarters, and in the dark, he should have checked his back for more opponents. His arms were held at his sides as one of the sailors, a burly ginger-headed man with a full beard and huge hands, approached.
“Knock his teeth out, Lion!” one of the men yelled.
James thrashed with all his might, tried to kick out, to knock his captors off balance, but it was no use. He was outnumbered and unconscious of his surroundings. He’d charged into battle without any information, none of the facts. The Butcher was well and truly lost.
Just as he squeezed his eyes shut, tensing for the blow that would surely break his nose for good and loosen his teeth, a wail filled the air. This was no blood-stopping scream. It was the sound of a baby crying that reached his ears.
“Amelia?” He’d not stopped to think of his sister. He’d wanted only to find Daniella and tell her he loved her. Convince her the only place for her in the world was at his side.
Another cry from the other side of the door and his heart swelled with emotion.
The two men holding him suddenly let him go and he dropped to the floor with a thud as they surged towards the cries, all thoughts of fighting forgotten.
The door opened and another man filled the space. Questions fired off all at the same time. “What is it?”, “How is the lass?”, “What of the boy?”.
The only reply came with a toothless grin. “It’s a girl. A wee little red-faced lass with the palest hair you ever saw.”
A collective sigh reached his ears and the tension dissipated in smiles and pats on the back. The toothless stranger looked down at him, his brows raised. “Another one?”
“Too many strangers for my liking,” the first spoke again. “This one claims he’s Trelissick.”
“You’d better come in then and meet your
