“I just learned you were here. When I didn’t hear from you or Rose for months, I feared the worst, but yesterday these arrived.” He reached into his pocket and produced three letters.
My traitorous heart leapt into my chest. Throw it into the fire. It was better to have nothing than a piece of her. Even though I was of a self-destructive nature, even I didn’t hate myself enough for that kind of torture.
Oscar reached out for the letter, but his brother pulled it back.
“You were supposed to protect her. Last time I heard from you, you swore you would protect her,” Oliver accused, his eyes an echo of Oscar's.
He didn’t belong in Newgate with his polished suit and slicked-back hair. To be fair, even relegated to this state, Oscar didn’t either. It was in how they carried themselves. Sure of their role in the world.
“I did. She’s safe, isn’t she?” Oscar gestured to the letters. “Why do you think I’m in this shithole?”
“To hear Edmonds tell it, you are here because ofhim.” He jerked his head towards me.
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yes, which was also protecting Rose. She’s lost her damn mind. If James had shot him, she would have thrown herself into the sea.”
Oliver gave a long sigh and nodded towards me.
“I would appreciate it if you could come closer,” he said, all gentleman.
“I would rather not,” I said.
“Don’t do it. He wants to hit you to defend our sister’s honor,” Oscar said with a grin. “Which he knows Rose would not thank him for.”
Her name again.
My heart constricted, and I wondered if this was what dying felt like.
“If it makes you feel better, she hit me hard enough to break my nose,” I said.
The memory tasted bitter in my mouth, constricting my lungs. Rules. There were rules.
“It absolutely does not,” Oliver said, nose pointed up.
God, it was her. The words, the mannerisms. This was fucking torture, and I much preferred Oscar’s incessant tapping to this.
“Let me have the letter, Oliver,” Oscar said, voice sobering.
We both knew it wouldn’t just be Rose’s perfect penmanship in there.
“Not yet,” Oliver said, tucking the letters back into his coat.
“We have problems.” Oliver’s voice dipped low, like the rats might report back to Edmonds.
“No shit,” Oscar said, gesturing to himself and our cell.
The eldest Bailey’s hands flexed at his side, and I knew this was more than Oscar being imprisoned. I could see in the way his nails were bitten down on one side. Malnutrition and dehydration were quickly forgotten as I pushed myself off the wall.
“What has she done?” I ground out.
It came out harsher than I meant it to, but I should have known. Should have known it wasn’t my father stalling thisprocess, but her. That clever, stubborn creature I saw every time I closed my eyes.
Oliver swallowed. “Three ships in four months. All North Star Line sank to the bottom of the ocean with survivors to tell the tale and relay demands.”
“Rosamund,” I cursed her name.
I should have accounted for this. I was a fucking idiot.
“She goes by Hellcat Smith these days and is Captain of the Sea Wraith,” Oliver whispered, eyes darting down the hall.
