He whistled a bawdy tune as he mounted his horse to head back to his estate. He had bigger battles to dwell on, on this night. One way or another, his father would pay with either his gold or his life. After meeting the man again, Darius almost hoped it was the latter.
Eliza Penfold was altogether a different matter. Pirate or legally appointed captain, Darius would never purchase a woman, and definitely not a wife, but he needed Eliza’s dowry and Eliza needed his protection. Without her coin, he had no way to return home to America or take care of his crew.
He also couldn’t leave her or her siblings out in the cold on their own. Even if Eliza did consent to the union, he still wouldn’t be able to take her money and run. But what would he do with her? Take her back to America with him? No, she would never leave the children and his ship was no place for a lady.
She’d created quite a scandal when she’d turned Harold down and rejected his suit. But was it his half-brother she had a distaste for or a marriage that would see her young siblings in even more danger without her presence? He’d learned all he could from the local townsfolk and the whole mess made him want to kill Harold just as slowly and painfully as he now wanted to kill his sire.
There was a time in Darius’s life where he had only looked out for himself but those times, along with his naïveté and enthusiasm for adventure, were long, long gone. It had never been his intention to seek revenge over his father, only what was owed to him. But if Wickham did come after him or Eliza with murder in his eyes, Darius would kill him. He would not hesitate and he would not bother with compunction. It would be his final act on English soil, to rid the country of a cockroach.
Chapter Nine
When Darius finally returned to his home, the sun was setting and the evening chill had well and truly settled over the pine forest, darkening clouds a sure promise of more snow to come. As unpredictable as the weather, had Eliza finally realised she was out of options? A better man would have had their roof repaired and the children taken care of in their own home. But he was dead broke. As was Eliza. They made the perfect couple. The thought made him smile as he handed his hat and coat to Wiggins, the butler-for-the-moment taking to the navy fabric with a fine brush before hanging it carefully in the closet.
“You’re getting a little too good at that,” Darius told him with a chuckle.
Wiggins shrugged. “Beats the hell out of wearing dirty clothes for months on end and smelling like tar and sweat.”
This gave Darius pause. “I thought you enjoyed the decks of the ship? You told me you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His man shrugged again and his gaze drifted away from Darius’s. “I didn’t know no other way until now, Cap’n.”
What could he say to that? Every one of his men wanted to be with him, of that he had been sure. Should he have questioned their loyalties? No. He had their devotion. Perhaps he should have questioned the men further when he’d asked them to come on this last hurrah? He tossed the notion aside until later. “Is Duncan in? Marcus?”
“Taking tea in the silver drawing room.”
“Taking tea? Do we have a guest?” Anticipation filled his chest until he was fit to burst. Had the beautiful idiot finally seen reason? Had she finally seen that she could not ever hope to succeed without his help?
“We have five guests, milord. The lady is taking tea and the other four are exploring the house and choosing their bedrooms.”
“I see.” Darius couldn’t help the smile that stretched his lips but then he had to bite it back. Eliza couldn’t see him happy over this turn of events. Indeed, he shouldn’t have been quite so happy but found it too hard to sober. Perhaps it was the ale?
Pausing to steel his face to a mix of fury and concern, Darius threw open the doors and rushed into the room. “I just got the message. Marcus, Duncan is everyone all right? Eliza, what are you doing here?”
The men rose but Eliza didn’t even look up. She sat before the hearth staring at the mountain of flames, her ungloved hands outstretched to the warmth as though she couldn’t quite believe it was there. Thin white strips of fabric wound around her palms and over three of her ten fingers.
Now his fury became real. “What the hell happened?”
Marcus shook his head so Duncan answered. “Ruffians shot out the windows of the house. Eliza was injured but not badly, just a few scratches.”
“And the children?” Darius would kill both of his men if their bullets had gone low and harmed anyone. They’d discussed the fact that the glass might cause injury but Darius had been hoping to get away without bloodshed. He was a desperate man pushed to desperate measures and hadn’t considered the children fighting back. Where had his battle prowess gone to? His ability to see the dangers from every angle?
“All fine and accounted for.”
Marcus cleared his throat and gestured to Eliza who still hadn’t uttered a word or moved at all. “We chased the beggars off but didn’t want to take the risk of them coming back so we brought them all here until you returned.”
“A wise idea. Thank God you were both there.”
“Aye,” Marcus grunted and then turned and stomped from the room.
Darius raised his brows to Duncan in question but the other man merely raised his
