I nodded, reaching for the door.
“For you and for me. We are on the same ship after all.” I said.
“It’ll ruin her, too. Is that what you want?” There was desperation coating the words, and it hit just right.
“I have faith in your need for self-preservation.”
With that, I left him to his rare liquor and rotting heart. A weight I’d carried dutifully for fourteen years slid off my shoulders, and I stood a little taller. I didn’t know who I was without my need for vengeance, but I was willing to find out.
Chapter nineteen
You Look Like You
Rose
Found family is a rare treasure—but rarer still is the family bound by both blood and love, for such bonds are forged only once in an age.
— The Mysterious Deep: A Comprehensive Understanding
“Go find him,” I whispered to Oscar through false smiles.
I ran my gloved hands together to soothe the building pressure in my chest. Instead of staying close to Flynn, I’d allowed myself to be pulled away, playing the part of a blushing bride. I still didn’t know if Flynn would forgive me for this, but I refused to let him walk to the gallows. Maybe that was selfish, but so be it.
“He can take care of himself, Rose.” Oscar scratched at his nose to cover his mouth.
“It’s all rather romantic, isn’t it? Falling in love in Paris only to find out he’s the heir to Fairview. You truly didn’t know when you first met him?” Sarah Harrington squealed.
“Definitely not,” Oscar and I said as one.
A small giggle erupted from her, but the woman next to her eyed me like I was dirt on her toe. Cora Harrington was afflicted by a chronic condition where she was unable to smile, and it soothed her to make everyone around her miserable.
I took a steadying breath, readying for the blow.
“Yes, how peculiar that we all thought you engaged only to find out it was to a mysterious heir. I suppose the third time is the charm, they say.” The flash of her engagement ring as she tucked a stray piece of chestnut hair behind her ear was glaring.
Once her words would have cut where they were intended to, but I knew who I was now. People like Cora would forever be stuck in the small boxes they were born in. Never finding enough space to stretch out their arms. The things I’d seen and done, the life I’d already lived, mattered more than sharp words.
I reached out and took her hand in mine, making a show of examining her ring. I clicked my tongue and plumped out my lower lip.
“What a shame Richard Carlisle couldn’t set aside more for a clearer diamond. Well, I’m sure he did the best he could, given that I heard he invested quite a bit into North Star Line. Such a shame.”
It would have been more convincing if I kept the smile from my lips at the last line. At the end of the day, I was only human, and I very much enjoyed the smug aristocrats receiving their just dues. Anyone who invested in North Star Line after my father’s removal deserved every shilling they lost and more.
Cora’s cheeks flushed, and her eyes flicked down to my empty hand, a cruel smile decorating her thin face. She opened her mouth, but quickly shut it at what she saw behind me.
“Miss Bailey,” Bash’s voice wrapped around me like a warm breeze.
I turned, and there he was. A rogue pirate captain in aristocrat finery holding out his hand to me, voice low and deep. If I’d known two years ago that taking his hand would lead us here, I would’ve done it over and over. My hand fit just right in his. Slightly crooked nose, steel jaw, high cheekbones, freshly shaved. He was a midnight dream.
“Mr. Smith,” I answered.
His eyes raked over me, assessing, hungry. Too eager for polite society. I could see the thoughts flick through his mind as his gaze dropped to my lips, lingering for too long. Whatever happened with his father only made him stronger. It was in the fire in his storm eyes and the way he watched me as none of it mattered.
Oscar cleared his throat.
“Are you thirsty?” Bash asked, ignoring our party.
I nodded and choked out something that was probably an acquiescence in another language. He led me away, leaving behind murmured apologies and haughty breaths of irritation.
