The house erupted into a frenzy as the butler screamed out an order to send for the doctor while Lady Corbett burst from the drawing room.
No one stopped Nick on his way out the door. He quickly counted the number of servants, the location of the stairs and wished he knew the exact location of Jem’s bedroom.
His boots crunched across the gravel drive as he moved towards his horse. Jem would fight him now, every step of the way, thanks to George Corbett. He would have to find a place to hide, then break into Sea Cliff once everyone was abed. Kidnapping would now be added to the list of his crimes, for Jem was going with him, whether she willed it or not.
The first blow hit him across his face, and he felt his nose break. The second blow, from a cudgel, hit him in the temple and drove him to his knees.
“Hello toff,” Wren whispered as Nick struggled to get to his feet. “Governor Lord Corbett sends his regards.”
He felt something heavy against the back of his head and knew nothing else.
11
The wind whistled across the clearing, moving the bared branches of a dying mulberry tree and filling Jemma’s nose with the smell of the sea. She reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek.
I miss you so much, Papa.
Her hands ran over the hump of earth, not caring for the condition of her gloves. Grief, sharp and painful, caused her to clutch at the earth under her fingers.
At least, he's finally with my mother. Her eyes misted with tears and she tried to blink them away. Her father spoke of his deceased wife often, as if she were still roaming the halls of Sea Cliff, but Jemma barely remembered her mother. A vague recollection of a lilting Irish voice and a warm embrace smelling of tea roses were all Jemma had of Maureen Manning. She wiped bitterly at a lone tear that ran down her cheek. Now, all Jemma had were memories of her father to sustain her. Memories and guilt.
I am responsible.
Jemma stood, the force of the wind whipping the skirt of her mourning dress about her ankles. She could see the ocean just over the rise and the profusion of hibiscus encircling the tiny graveyard at the edge of Sea Cliff. A beautiful spot for her parents to spend all of eternity. She was alone now.
Firm hands grabbed her shoulders.Augie.She'd not even heard him come up behind her.
“Come, my dear.” He pulled her to him, clutching her hands in his. He turned his head towards her father’s resting place. “I loved him as well, you know.” The pain of the loss Jemma felt was reflected in Augie’s drawn features. “He was as much a father to me as my own.”
“I know.” And, Jemmadidknow. Augie Corbett learned well from Jemma’s father how to run a vast enterprise, and the two had spent many evenings together discussing trade ventures, the salt industry and the price of rum. Augiehadloved her father, but he also coveted Sea Cliff. She suspected that Augie’s affection towards her had less to do with her person than it did with the vast Manning empire of which Sea Cliff was the seat. In the week following her father’s death, Jemma saw lust in Augustus Corbett’s eyes, but it wasn’t for her. Nor did she feel an ounce of desire for him.
I am being uncharitable.
Augie had been her rock, a steady shoulder for her during the days when Jemma’s father lay ill and dying. Apoplexy, Doctor Wade called her father’s affliction, brought on by a sudden shock.
The shock of being blackmailed by the very man who ruined me.
Jemma nursed her father, refusing to leave him, even though he never spoke and barely opened his eyes. Mrs. Stanhope arrived to stay at Sea Cliff, and Augie handled her father’s affairs. Two weeks after that horrible night while Jemma mopped his brow, William Manning simply expelled a deep breath and went silent.
Numb with grief and guilt, Jemma sat in a daze while the Corbetts handled the arrangements of the funeral and the running of Sea Cliff. She moved through those days in a fog, so full of sorrow she barely acknowledged those around her. Her thoughts remained chaotic, disjointed, as if not wishing to believe that her entire world was suddenly changed.
Nick.
How did one still long for a man who caused such a tragedy? Hours upon hours she berated herself for her stupidity while her heart still ached for him.
Lord Corbett had told her the truth of Nick Shepherd. How the man planned to ruin the richest heiress on the island and blackmail her father to stay silent. Money. That was all Nick ever wanted. All else was a lie. He'd fled Bermuda the moment her father collapsed, else Lord Corbett would have had him put in chains. She cursed herself a thousand times over for being so blind. But nothing would bring back her father.
“Come, Jemma. You must not walk out here alone, along the cliffs,” Augie said quietly. “I was worried when I came to call, and Mrs. Stanhope said you were out here again. Mother says it's not safe.”
At the mention of Lady Corbett, Jemma stiffened and attempted to pull away from Augie. Grateful though she was for Lady Corbett's assistance immediately following her father’s death, the older woman’s concern was quickly beginning to feel more like suffocation.
“While I appreciate,” Jemma struggled to keep the irritation out of her voice, “your mother’s concern for my welfare, she does not dictate my actions.” Jemma wrenched her arm from Augie. “She will not even allow my own coachman to take me into Hamilton with Mrs. Stanhope. I am not some fragile flower that need be coddled.”
Augie took her elbow again, his fingers digging into her skin. “Stop behaving like a child.” His mouth drew into a grim line and his eyes darkened. “You know very well why you cannot go to town. Mrs. Stanhope is poor protection for such an endeavor.” He raised a brow and his words were tinged with distaste. “Mother is not to blame for your lack of discretion.”
Jemma’s cheeks grew warm. Augie was right, though it pained her to admit it. Abel Sinclair had not breathed a word of Jemma’s affair with Nick, but his sister, Agnes, did not keep quiet. The stares of her neighbors at her father’s funeral had told Jemma as much. Still, she refused to believe that she had become a pariah. “I cannot believe the people of Hamilton would treat me so unkindly. Your father has assured me that—”
Augie snorted and dropped her arm, his manner making clear his annoyance. “You spoiled little brat.” A strand of hair fell over his brow and he pushed it back sharply. “What about me? What about the humiliation I have suffered? Do you not think I must endure the whispers of your indiscretion as well?” He held up his hands as if seeking agreement from the gulls that flew overhead. “Had you any sense of humility you would do exactly as Mother asks until the gossip dies down. If it dies down. My parents have done all they can do to quell the likes of Agnes Sinclair. All you must do is stay at home and show some remorse for your scandalous actions. You are so selfish you cannot even dothat.”
