The Duke's Daughter -Wattys2014 Collector's Dream Award Winner-

Chapter Thirty Seven

"She is a hell cat, your lordship. Stabbed me with a fork in my cheek the first night I Let her out of the dark room." The Admiral reported as he sat across the desk from his lordship. Thomas stood near the hearth across the room, listening, but not adding to the recounting of Arianna's time aboard the Avenger.

"Yes, well, there are ways to tame a shrew." His lordship replied, refilling his snifter.

"She's much more than a shrew, your lordship. Think of her more like a siren. Enticing in her beauty but vicious at close range. She also managed to stab me in the foot through my boot, if you had not noticed the limp. An entire toe was severed."

Thomas turned to stare at the Admiral. The brandy was making the man's tongue loose. Thomas' eyes lifted past the Admiral to the one called his lordship. It took all of Thomas' restraint not to declare the man under arrest at this very moment. He was in no position to make good on the getaway at the moment.

His lordship's eyes lifted to Thomas' and an eerie chill traveled down the American's spine. This Englishman would not be easy to best. His lordship stood over six feet tall and was as wide as an ox. His hands were monstrous, his fingers long and thick. His arms followed the same description and the muscles were well defined under the tight sleeves. Thomas doubted that he would be left standing were it to come to fisticuffs with the man.

"And you, American? What was your impression of my future wife?" His lordship called across the room, his eyes still focused on Thomas'.

"Lady Kent is no shrew, sir, if I may speak plainly."

His lordship nodded to Thomas to continue.

"Lady Kent is a scared young girl who simply defended herself when assaulted. There is no malicious evil breeding inside her. She simply does not like being held hostage." Thomas shrugged as he let a crooked smile grace his face. "She earned a bit of my respect upon the voyage." Thomas lifted his own snifter to his lips, his eyes never breaking their contact with his lordships.

"Hmm.." His lordship indulged in a smile of his own. "Are you emotionally involved with my future wife, Mr. Bell?"

Thomas let the smile fall from his face slowly, his eyes hardened slightly despite his best efforts. "Nay, your lordship. I simply stated that I have respect for her. She is far too young for me by any means."

Both the Admiral and his lordship sent Thomas a confused glance, as Thomas was easily five years younger than his lordship's own score, ten, and three years.

A knock sounded upon the door and his lordship called out for the servant to enter. Carmelita slipped into the room and stood with her head bowed and her hands folded before her.

"Yes, Cammie?" His lordship asked, his voice unusually devoid of bite.

"Lady Kent awaits you in the dining room, your lordship."

"Very good, thank you, my dear."

Carmelita waited as he had not dismissed her.

"Cammie, darling, will you check on our American friend here this evening in his rooms and see that he has everything he needs."

"As you wish, your lordship."

"And see that Margaret is sent to the Admiral's chambers to see to his comforts as well."

"If that is your wish, your lordship. Margaret was assigned to Lady Kent, sir, do you wish that I have her replaced?"

"Nay, Cammie. She may return to her duties upon the morrow."

"Yes, your lordship."

She waited again as he indulged in one more tilt of the brandy decanter. The Admiral joined him.

"You may go, Carmelita." His lordship hissed as the brandy burnt his throat, his eyes were shut tightly and his neck cocked slightly to the side.

Carmelita was thankful his eyes were closed, because her own snapped to his face upon hearing her Christian name upon his lips. She turned and exited the study, firmly closing the doors behind her, fearful that he might realize his own slip of tongue and find a way to place the blame on her in his own head. She could not afford punishment this night more so than any other. The quick note she had sent up to her ladyship, had been answered by another, begging a visit after the household retired.

*****

Arianna stood just inside the dining room where the housekeeper had left her. The servants here were most reserved and most odd. They came in all different shapes, sizes, and colors but all shared one similarity. A downtrodden disposition.

She watched the footmen that stood waiting to serve the evening meal. Every last one of their eyes were focused upon the floor at their feet. Their backs were ramrod straight, their right arms at their sides, their left arms were curved before their torsos with a white towel hanging over their forearms.

She heard footsteps in the hallway and turned to face the doors. A matching footman opened them admitting Thomas, the Admiral, and a large handsome blonde man that could be none other than his lordship.

The blonde man smiled and bowed before her. Out of reflex, Arianna sank into a graceful curtsy.

He straightened and took her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles.

"Good evening, my lady. If I might introduce myself, I am Marcus Bailey, at your service."

Arianna visibly paled for her mind now made the connection that the man Thomas had told her about, the man standing before her and the murderer wanted in England were one and the same.

"There is no need to be frightened, my dear. I mean you no harm." Bailey grinned at Arianna's cold display.

"Did you tell the five women you killed the same thing?" Arianna spoke before the thought had fully formed in her mind.

His lips twitched as he retrieved her hand and placed it upon his sleeve. "'Twas seven, my lady. But none of them would have suffered had your great uncle been straight with me in the beginning." He led her farther into the dining room and pulled out the chair for her to the right of the head of the table.
Arianna glanced up at him as she took the chair and he slipped her under the table. "My great uncle?"

"Yes, he was a spiteful old man. But this is not dinner conversation. I see that you are pleased with the wardrobe?" His eyes dropped to the cream evening gown she wore. It was a beautiful creation with shoulder sleeves, elegant lines, and only a single black ribbon wrapped around her waist, just under her bust.

"The gowns are most beautiful, though the majority of them will not fit me." Arianna replied.

Thomas took the seat to her right and the Admiral sat across from her. Bailey took the seat at the head of the table. "I have a slave who is an accomplished seamstress, I shall send her to you upon the morrow, she will alter any gowns you wish. I shall have her bring bolts of cloth to fashion anything else you desire."

"Why would a slave owner treat a prisoner with such generosity?" Arianna heard herself ask.

Bailey laughed, but it was evident to all that his patience was wearing thin. "You will only be a prisoner here if you choose to be, Arianna."

Arianna's eyebrow raised at the freedom with which he used her name. "Would you elaborate on that, sir?"

"Arianna, it is a simple matter. You were left what should have been mine. Now, I can not take it from you, nor would I want to. But you cannot have it all to yourself anyway, so I shall be the one you share it with."

"You speak of my island then, Isla de Cabellete?"

"Yes, my dear. You see, you and I are second cousins. Your mother was my father's first cousin. They shared their paternal grandparents. Our mutual great grandfather left the isle to his eldest son, my grandfather, who left it to his eldest son, my father. My father died while my mother was heavy with me, yet his will had not been revised and he left the island to his favorite cousin, the Duchess, who in turn left it to her daughter, that being you. Luckily, the king decreed that in order for her to do so, there must be stipulations. One being that you only gained control of half of it, the other was that you did not gain control until you matured, in the event of your mother's death before such a time. So," He was no longer speaking to the room in general as his eyes focused on Arianna, "Your mother had her solicitor draw up her will with the island as your dowry, my dear."

Arianna was speechless. This cad truly thought she would marry him? Apparently he did, because he continued, his attention wandering again.

"So, three days from now, you, my dear, shall become my wife and we shall take control of your island, by force if necessary. And then," Arianna held up her hand, she could not let him go any further.

"Mr. Bailey, please do slow down!" His attention swiveled back to her as she interrupted him. Arianna saw a flicker of anger in his eyes, but then his condescending smile returned and he nodded for her to continue. Arianna took a mental note to watch her tongue when in his presence. She must not forget that this man had already proved himself capable of harming women in grotesque fashions.

"Mr. Bailey, I mean no offense, but I have no intentions of marrying you. I do not even know you."

"You will get to know me soon enough, my dear. And we will sit down and talk about it more fully, but I had not intended to discuss this over our meal. Are your rooms comfortable, darling?"

"Yes, they are." Arianna sighed, as one footman set a bowl of soup before her, another filled her wine glass. She did not want to risk angering him by broaching the subject again. She would bide her time until he was ready to speak of it.