“I was the captain of this ship once upon a time.”
Eliza had overheard Darius talking to his men about a missing ship. The ship that had brought about her father’s final shame and downfall. Thinking of Darius and the hurt in his eyes as she’d chosen the wrong fork in the road made her feel even more wretched. Why did she have to remember that part of the day? Why hadn’t she chosen to stand and fight alongside him rather than only trusting in herself to save the day? Look how badly it had worked out for her so far. “Did my father put you here?”
The other prisoner hadn’t moved at all apart from the narrowing of his eyes but at the mention of her father, he unfurled from his slumped position and stood. “Who is your father?”
She retreated as far as the small space would let her. He was huge. Tall, yes, but so slim she could make out each of the protruding ribs holding his wide shoulders up. He was only skin and bone but he terrified her all the same.
“The Duke of Penfold was my father.”
The man slumped again as though the act of simply standing took all the strength he’d had. His chains rattled and as he resettled on the floor, Eliza witnessed the grimace that stole his breath away. “Smith put me here to gain the compliance of my crew.”
“How long have you been here?” Her question was more a whisper. She didn’t really think she wanted to know.
“I’m not sure. Months though. I don’t know how many.”
Finally reaching for the courage to turn her back, Eliza sank to the floor between Ethan and Grace, her face in her hands as tears fell down her cheeks. She hurt everywhere. The pressures from her body, the stinging pain as she sat, told her the worst must have happened after she’d lost consciousness. Had Wickham’s men had their way with her? Had she been used and then thrown down a hole to await her next fate?
At her left, Nathanial finally pushed himself up on his elbows. He retched and vomited on the filthy boards, the noise cutting through the tension of the room. His shirt had been ripped up to his shoulder, the mark of bonds cut into both wrists clearly visible before the light coming through the porthole waned.
Eliza suddenly couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t hear anything else over the roaring of blood in her ears and the race of her pulse. Struggling to take in air, she gulped, tried to inhale.
Hopelessness like she’d never felt, not even after she’d found her sister standing over their father’s cooling body, invaded every part of her aching form. Strong arms wrapped about her and held her tight. Nathanial was probably waiting for wails of despair. Despite how her broken and battered body shook, she didn’t cry or scream. Numbness soon rushed in to replace despair.
She almost wished for death in those moments. She’d rather they all be dead than at any madman’s mercy like this. She had fought so hard against her father and the mess he’d left them to, so her younger sisters would never be sold to men like Wickham.
But they’d taken what they’d wanted anyway. Perhaps they’d never stood a chance.
*
Darius sat in the chair Germaine indicated but shook his head when offered a glass filled with dark liquid. He clenched his fingers around the tops of his thighs and resisted the urge to jump up and pace. “Will you help me or not?” he asked, attempting to gentle his tone but failing.
“I still don’t understand why the daughter of a duke would think you were her only choice. No offense intended of course.”
Darius inclined his head but then muttered an obscenity beneath his breath.
Germaine went on. “Did the chit have no other relations? I don’t know the family at all.”
“Only an aunt and uncle but she says they are worse than Wickham.”
“How did you get involved with the Penfolds to start with? You didn’t say.”
He’d left that part out, hoping it wouldn’t come up. “Three gentlemen—Wickham, Derbing and Penfold—stole a ship from my employer, Deklin Montrose.”
Germaine raised his hand for a pause. “I thought you were a pirate?”
He was going to throttle him. “Not anymore. But that doesn’t matter. The fabrics and the ship all disappeared so I was sent to retrieve the debts owed. Derbing had won an unentailed property from Wickham in a card game and gave it to me to settle his debts.”
“And now has fled England for the coast of Italy,” Germaine, said filling in a blank.
“He can go to hell for all I care. The man paid. My business with him was over. Wickham couldn’t be found so my men and I shored up at the house. The Duke of Penfold’s estate borders mine. I was going to go to him and demand what I was owed but he was dead already.”
“Committed suicide you say?” Germaine narrowed his eyes.
“I arrived in time to save Wickham from accosting Eliza Penfold.”
“And she was so grateful she just fell into your arms? An illegitimate pirate?”
Darius ground his teeth and squeezed harder with his fingers. The silly smile on Germaine’s lips wouldn’t look so good after he pummelled the man. “There was a good deal more to it than that. I was handed what I thought was the duke’s last written words giving Eliza to me for his portion of the debt. I was to have her and her dowry.”
“Did the duke write it or not?”
“He did not. Eliza forged it to save her sister from—What the bloody hell does any of this matter? They are all in grave danger. Harold is going to tell me where the Persephone is docked and my men and I are going to rain hellfire down upon it.”
“The Persephone?”
“Bloody hell, man, catch up! Harold practically gave my missing ship
