The Slide into Ruin
A Daughters of Disgrace Historical Romance
Bronwyn Stuart
The Slide into Ruin
Copyright© 2020 Bronwyn Stuart
Kindle Edition
The Tule Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
First Publication by Tule Publishing 2020
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-952560-25-5
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Dedication
This book goes out to my deck builder, my ride to the airport, my handyman, my spider killer, my kitchen installer, my caravan renovator, my babysitter, my lawn mower, my tree trimmer, my veggie garden expert, my shoulder to lean on, my go-to for a vent, my confidant, my lemon meringue chef, and so, so much more.
My Rock.
My Hero.
My Dad.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
The Daughters of Disgrace series
About the Author
Prologue
At the first sound of shuffling feet, the ex-pirate turned legitimate captain known as Darius held his breath and stilled his entire body. Who he waited for, friend or foe, he would soon discover.
The nicely appointed rented room above the noisy tavern was cloaked in darkness, but he didn’t need the light to see. Spending more than half of his life at sea, and in the dark beneath decks, had leant his vision an almost supernatural edge.
The shuffling paused on the other side of the locked door, there was a mutter and what sounded like…kissing? Darius swore under his breath but held his position. This was his second-to-last loose end before he left England behind forever and he had to ensure there were no outstanding debts of his own, imagined, obligated or other. The many and varying sins of his youth would not catch up with him in the following years. He wanted to wipe his slate clean after these last errands. It’s why he hid in the dark awaiting a man who probably would rather drive a knife in his back than offer absolution. On one level, he did deserve it.
Finally, the bedroom door opened, and a dim pool of candlelight fell across the floor. His heart thumped against his ribs and his hands grew clammy with the effort it took not to reach for the pistol resting safely in the holster beneath his coat. If he died tonight, then so be it.
Two figures entered, one very large and definitely male, the other slight, a woman. He’d hoped for only the man but the woman might very well mean Darius would walk from the room rather than be carried out in a box.
His fingers twitched to hold his weapon as the candlewick was placed to the lantern and the entire room lit, chasing away the shadows.
First a feminine gasp, then a masculine oath, then the sound of a hammer being pulled back from the chamber of a long-barrelled, gleaming pistol pointed in his direction. How he missed swordplay on the decks of a ship. So much more intimate. So much fairer in a fight than lead balls impossible to dodge or deflect.
Darius didn’t rise. He didn’t react at all other than showing his hands were bare in a gesture of defencelessness. A gesture he hoped would be believed in order not to feel the scorching kiss of one of those bullets.
Captain Richard Germaine spoke first. “What the devil are you doing here?”
He may as well get straight to the truth of the matter. “I came to make amends.”
“You kidnapped my daughter!” Germaine countered with an angry wave of the pistol.
“I kidnapped her from her kidnapper.”
“And then you married her to him, the bloody Butcher of the Battle!”
“A man she is deeply in love with.”
“You could have conked him on the head and left him to rot. Better still, you could have thrown him overboard instead of scaring Daniella into thinking it was her you were after.”
Darius smiled. Of course, she would tell the story her way. “She has your stubbornness. Someone had to make her see the truth.”
Germaine sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, bidding the woman to do the same while also keeping her close, gun still in hand while he rubbed the bridge of his nose with the other. “Why did you get involved? You had to know your presence would have stirred rather than assured.”
“Perhaps that’s why? I believe you once labelled me a troublemaker.”
“I labelled you a good many names, lad. I was right about most of them. What kind of trouble are you causing tonight? We thought you’d be on your way back to Boston and Montrose.”
He should have been. He owed Deklin Montrose, his employer, more than he could ever list but there was the matter of debts to be collected from three men in London first. Then he would be free. Free to start his life afresh with means and respect. He and Montrose were fast friends—nothing would ever change that—but Darius paid his dues. He would never be beholden to another as long as he lived. They would be equal partners in the shipping venture or nothing at all.
“No trouble,” Darius assured the man who had once tried to take a young boy under his wing only to receive a mutiny for his trouble. The deep scar on Darius’s collarbone suddenly throbbed as if
