Corbett’s nostrils flared. “Don’t threaten me, my lord, you are not off my island,yet.”
“Stop it! Stop!" Manning cried, setting his glass down on the desk. “There is no reason for threats,” he held his hand up in supplication. “The past is to stay buried.” Manning shot Nick a sideways glance. “Please," Manning lowered his voice, “for Jane Emily's sake.”
“Oh, yes. Dear Jane Emily. My son’s betrothed. The soiled bride to be.”
Nick’s stomach twisted. Damn Corbett. How could he know what transpired that afternoon? “I should take my leave.” He set down his glass and held out a hand for Manning’s confession.
“What do you mean?” A dark purple flush crept up Manning’s cheeks and his mouth hardened. He clutched the papers to his chest with one hand.
“Revenge.” Corbett said cheerfully, lowering his eyes and raising a brow at the papers Manning clutched. “Revenge, my dear friend. Why do you think he disguised himself and walked among us? He was looking for your weak spot. Your Achilles’ heel. I believe he found it, or rather,her.” Corbett lifted his glass in a mock toast to Nick. “Tell him about Jane Emily.”
Nick stood and reached out for Manning’s confession.
Manning's cheeks puffed and his face took on a horrible purple hue. He slid back behind the desk to collapse in the large leather chair that sat there, still clutching the sheaf of papers to his heart. “What," he gasped, ignoring Nick, “are you implying George?”
“Oh, I think you know, don’t you?” Corbett sipped his brandy. “I can’t believe you meant to give him that,” he nodded to the now crumpled paper in Manning’s hands, “after what he’s done. He’s defiled her. Fucked your precious daughter like some common whore.” He reached across the desk and easily took the papers out of Manning’s hands. He held them up, briefly scanning Manning’s words before tossing the pages into the fire. “I’ll have to speak to Augustus about Jemma’s indiscretion, of course.”
Nick’s chest hurt. “Damn you.” Nothing had gone as planned since he set foot on Bermuda.
“Agnes Sinclair was quite distraught over your rejection." Corbett smirked. "She wished to persuade you to take her back to England, so she followed you. Agnes painted quite a vivid picture for her brother. She’s no fan of Jane Emily’s, I’ll warrant. Her brother was absolutely horrified. Distraught. He came straight to me.” Corbett patted Manning on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Willie, I paid him well not to repeat the story. We can’t have my son’s future wife be known as a slut.”
Manning panted, like a dying dog, behind the desk. “I meant to do the right thing.” He lifted a shaking finger towards Nick. “And you ruined my daughter?”
Corbett lifted a brow at Nick. “Why, she could be carrying his bastard right now!”
Nick watched the last wisps of Manning’s confession blacken and burn in the fireplace and cursed George Corbett. Years of planning and searching for the man who betrayed England and framed Nick’s father became ashes before his eyes. He told himself it didn’t matter. All that mattered now, was leaving this island, alive, with Jem. He would need to take her now. “Move.” He snarled at Corbett.
Corbett didn't budge. “Tell us all what happened on the beach with Jane Emily.”
Manning stood on shaky legs and approached Nick. His skin had turned greenish gray and his eyes were crazed. “You defiled my daughter. You filthy bounder.” Manning lurched forward.
“Deny it. Deny you ruined her.” Corbett’s eyes flitted to the open doorway.
“I do not deny it.” Nick walked deftly past Corbett.
“I thought not. You didn't get what you came for, and you've sullied Jane Emily. You’ll get not a farthing here. Now, get out,” Corbett said, his voice rising loudly. “Get out I say!” Corbett looked past Nick into the hall as if he saw someone there.
Nick puzzled for only a moment over Corbett’s odd comment before walking from the room. He didn’t think that Corbett would have the audacity to try to kill him, but he didn’t intend to stay long enough in Bermuda to find out. Nick felt the reassuring weight of his knife in his boot and hoped he could find Jem quickly.
As it turned out, Nick didn’t need to look for Jem at all.
She stood just outside the study door, her hands trembling against the folds of her skirts, looking for all the world like a wounded animal. Her eyes widened as she took him in, though he doubted she could see his face clearly in the dim light.
He knew from her stance that she’d heard every vile word George Corbett spoke. “Jem.”
“You ruined me for money?” She swayed and reached for the wall to steady herself. “Why?” Pain and betrayal etched the lovely planes of her face.
A thud, of a body falling to the floor, came from inside the study.
Jem jumped at the sound, her eyes flying to the open study doors.
“God’s blood!” Corbett shouted. “William. Shepherd’s killed him.”
She turned from him and ran into the study, falling to her knees before the collapsed form of her father.
George Corbett regarded Nick over Jem’s shoulder, his eyes flickering with triumph. “Oh no!” His eyes never left Nick’s face. “William has collapsed from the shock. Money in return for your reputation. Blackmail.”
Nick turned and walked as quickly as he could out of Sea Cliff, his mind racing. He brushed past the shocked butler who had let him in barely an hour before.
