Devil of a Duke by Kathleen Ayers

26

Jemma kicked out with her foot as hard as she could, satisfied to hear a grunt of pain as she caught Lady Corbett in the shin. The chair moved forward with the force of her efforts. She killed my father. She killed my mother. The words thundered in her head. Jemma kicked out again, unmindful of her own safety, not caring about anything but injuring the vile woman who stood before her.

“You little bitch.” Lady Corbett's hands went around Jemma's neck, her thumbs digging into the tender flesh. “I’m glad I killed William. He would have been nothing without me. I told George about the bloody packet. Me. I knew the value of that document and the small fortune its contents would bring.” She sprayed Jemma with bits of spittle as she spoke. “I thought William meant for us to be together and I could leave George, but instead he set up that Irish chambermaid as the lady of Sea Cliff. Your father grew rich while George squandered our share, and I could do nothing. Then I saw another way to finally have what was due me—Sea Cliff, and you ruined it!” She tightened her fingers.

Jemma couldn't breathe. She kicked and twisted, trying to break Lady Corbett’s hold, but to no avail. Spots danced before her eyes as she gasped for air.

“Mother.” The door flew open.

Jemma struggled to turn her head and speak as Augie appeared before her. His clothes were rumpled and his cravat was loose, the ends fluttering about his neck. The dark hair of his head stood up in spikes as if he'd been raking his hands through it. “What do you think you’re doing?” His eyes held a hunted look.

Shocked at her son’s sudden entrance, Lady Corbett's grip loosened. “Augustus. Where have you been?”

Coughing, she gulped in the fetid air as Lady Corbett’s hands fell from her neck. “Augie,” she implored. “Please untie me. Please help me.”

Augie snorted, his eyes filled with distaste as he looked down at her. “Surely, you jest. Why would I help you? You are the cause of all my ills.”

Lady Corbett danced around her son. “Where is the minister?” A beatific smile crossed her features as she leaned to look behind Augie. “I can’t wait for all of Bermuda to see you married. Once we have Sea Cliff, perhaps produce a child just in case someone tries to challenge our claim, you can throw her from the rocks.” Her face fell as she realized Augie was alone. “But where is he? Did you instruct him to meet us onboard? That’s very clever of you, dear one. He can serve as a witness once we reach Bermuda.”

Jemma tried to kick out again with her heel and missed.

“A child? Marry?” Augie’s lips quirked into a sad smile. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mother, but there’s been a change in plans.” His lips curled into a cruel sneer. “I fear your scheme has little chance for success. I stopped at White's for a drink after finding a minister willing to perform the ceremony, and the place was rife with gossip over the Devil of Dunbar's incredible lust.” He gestured at Jemma. “For her. The ton is incredulous. You led me to believe that the duke was only marrying her out of a misguided sense of duty. I decided to stay for one more hand of cards when who should appear but the Marquess of Cambourne, the duke’s closest friend. Do you know who he was looking for Mother? Me. I am fortunate that he didn’t see me as I ran for the door.”

Lady Corbett’s mouth gaped open like a fish. “Darling—” she tried to stroke Augie’s arm.

Augie shrugged off his mother. “I've no desire to perish at the hands of the Devil of Dunbar. You see, I've heard the things he's done. He'll come for her. If I were to be stupid enough to marry her, he would widow her in a thrice.”

“But—” Lady Corbett sputtered. “We have a plan. She is your betrothed.”

“Betrothed?” His fingers fluttered to Jemma. “Why would I want that man’s leavings when there are other ways I can take my pound of flesh? Ways in which it is far less likely I'll be killed.”

“No.” Lady Corbett shook her head as if trying to dislodge something. “No, that is not what we discussed.” She sidled over to Augie and ran a plump finger down his cheek adoringly. “My dear boy, this is the only way. You know that. We leave on the evening tide.”

Augie swatted his mother's caress away. “Nothing would make me marry that trollop.”

Jemma winced at the vehemence in his tone.

He truly hates me.He probably always has.

“I promise,” she pleaded, hoping she could make him see sense, “I won’t allow Nick to hurt you if you let me go. In fact,” she bargained, “if you release me now, I’ll hail a hack and go back to my uncle’s and say I simply got lost. Please.”

Augie snorted in derision. “Let you go? But you’re the perfect distraction. He won’t even know until it’s too late.”

Shaking her head at the riddle in his words, she tried again. “He’ll find you unless you release me.”

“Shut up.” The plump, be-ringed hand of Lady Corbett shot out across Jemma’s cheek. “But, our debts, Augie,” Lady Corbett cajoled, her hands held up in supplication. “We are ruined. You must marry her.”

“I’m not going back to Bermuda, Mother. I’ve no desire to return to be mocked by the whole of the islands for marrying her. Nor do I wish to spend my days watching Father drool while a servant feeds him breakfast. It will take all of Sea Cliff’s wealth to make the Corbetts whole again. There are much easier ways to become wealthy if one knows where to look."

“Augustus, you don't know what you are saying.” Lady Corbett tried to take her son's arm, clutching at his coat and ignoring his attempts to pull away. “It's been our dream.”

“No, Mother. Sea Cliff is your dream. Since I was a lad, you’ve harped about that bloody estate and pushed me into courting her.” Augie turned to Jemma. “I never wished to marry you. Ever. You have always treated me as your eager lapdog.” He gave a sharp laugh.

Jemma swallowed. “I am sorry, Augie, if you feel I’ve mistreated you.” Her voice cracked. “You were my dearest childhood friend, for the sake of that friendship, please untie me. I’ll make sure His Grace rewards you.”

How can I persuade him to help me?

“I’ve no doubt I'll be getting money from the duke, but it won't be in the way in which you think,” he mocked. “You overestimate my affection for you. You always have.”

Her shoulders slumped in frustration. He was going to leave her to the mercy of his mother. She tried again to loosen the ropes at her wrists.

“But I've waited so long, so very long.” Lady Corbett wailed as she wobbled from side to side in distress. Her faded red hair spilled free of its pins, whirling about her shoulders in a cloud. “You must marry her or I won’t have Sea Cliff and we’ll be destitute.” Lady Corbett fell to the floor at her son's feet. “What am I to do if you don’t marry her?”

“If you are smart, and I know you are, Mother, you'll dispose of this little problem and leave tonight. You said your goodbyes to Dorthea yesterday, and she is blissfully headed back to Yorkshire with no idea of your machinations. I’ll visit her later and tell her I’ve decided to stay on. She’ll welcome me. Tell everyone I was accosted on the streets of London and killed. My debts will likely be wiped clean out of pity for you and Father. I’ll send you money as soon as my future plans come to fruition.”

Lady Corbett pounded the floor in frustration. "I've done this all for you, Augustus!”

Augie stepped over his mother and made his way to the door. "You’ve done this all for you.”

A great sigh of resignation escaped Lady Corbett and her eyes, red-rimmed and watery, looked up at her son with uncertainty. “But how shall I—”

“Look, Mother," Augie peered down at her cheerfully, "you’re going to have to tidy up things yourself.” He straightened and lay something on the bed. “Then you need to get on that ship bound for Bermuda. I promise I’ll contact you later.”

Gasping in horror, Jemma saw that Augie had placed a pistol on the filthy coverlet.

“I’ve loaded it for you. No one will even hear the gunshot. Not here in this disgusting brothel. You must take care of this before he finds her, Mother. Besides, everyone already assumes she’s dead, you may be able to convince the magistrate to hand you and Father Sea Cliff . You just need to try harder.” Augie leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of his mother’s head. “Goodbye, Mother.”

“Augie, please.” Jemma implored. “Don’t do this.”

“Farewell Jemma.” He sidestepped around her, pausing only to shoot her a scathing glance over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him.

Her gaze turned to the pile of skirts, sobbing on the floor.

Lady Corbett pulled at her hair and pounded at the floorboards.

Jemma twisted her arm to pick madly at the knot above her wrist, fear making her fingers sweat and become slippery against the rope. She’ll kill me here in this room, and Nick won’t know what’s become of me.

The end of the primed pistol stared at her from the bed.

Frantically she tugged at the ropes and felt one of the knots loosen, and her eyes flew to the heap of weeping silk in front of her.

Suddenly, as if she knew Jemma was watching, Lady Corbett stopped her weeping, wiping at her tears with the hem of her skirt. She rolled to the side like a plump turtle and struggled to get to her feet. Finally, she stood, unsteady and sluggish, swatting madly at her cheeks and muttering.

“He's right of course. I must clean up this mess. Oh, how things have gotten mucked up.” A stream of snot ran out of one nostril and her complexion was a mottled red. “You’ve mucked up things.” She pointed a finger at Jemma.

“You don’t want to do this. I’ll sign over Sea Cliff to you. I’ve told you I don’t want it.” What could she do to convince Lady Corbett? “I can’t go back to Bermuda, you know that. I don’t wish to go back. The town knows I’m a fallen woman,” she said in a rush as her eyes welled with tears. “No one will welcome me, so you see I don’t need Sea Cliff.” At the hardness of Lady Corbett’s eyes, she whispered, “You were like a mother to me.” Did she sound convincing?

“Shut up,” Lady Corbett hissed, her fingers running over the coverlet towards the pistol. “You were never like a daughter to me. I never cared for you. How could I? Your mother cleaned chamber pots.” Her face contorted in disgust. “You have always just been a means to an end. Had you married Augie like a good girl, I would have tolerated you, perhaps for years, before I made you eat my teacakes.”

Jemma could feel the knot of the rope giving way and thought she could free her wrist. Gritting her teeth, she tried not to make a sound as the pain of the rope bit further into her skin.

“If you bring me a solicitor, I’ll sign over Sea Cliff to you straightaway.” She stalled for time. “I know where the account books are hidden,” she lied, wondering for a moment if Tally had written to Uncle John where they were and thought he had. “I’ll never return to Bermuda. I'll stay dead.”

Lady Corbett gave a snort, “You'll stay dead all right. Quite dead.” Her hands curled around the pistol. “Now that I think on this, I believe Augustus is correct. I can convince the magistrate in Hamilton that your original betrothal agreement entitles me to Sea Cliff. After all, it is what dear, departed William would have wanted. The estate would never go to auction. I am still the Governor's wife. She swiveled around, the pistol clutched firmly in her hand. "I shall pretend you are a wild pig or some other dumb animal. I’ve never shot a pistol before, but at this range I shouldn’t miss.” Squinting at Jemma, she clucked her tongue. “Just look at those freckles. Hideous. You never listened to me about wearing a hat or the lemon juice. Well, I suppose it hardly matters now.”

Jemma’s hand came free and she swung straight up with all her might to catch Lady Corbett on the shoulder. The chair, still bound to Jemma’s other wrist swiveled against Lady Corbett’s skirts, catching her on her thigh.

The Governor’s wife stumbled, grunting in pain and surprise, but she did not go down. The pistol swung about wildly in her hand. “You little bitch.”

The chair, still tethered to Jemma, slid to the floor. Heaving with exertion, she lay on her side, kicking and pulling in a futile attempt to get away from the bore of the pistol. “Please, Lady Corbett. I am with child.” Her hand reached out and tried to grab at Lady Corbett’s ankle.

Lady Corbett stepped out of range of her questing hand. “All the more reason then,” she pointed the pistol at Jemma’s chest, “to dispose of you both at once."

I will not lay here like a wounded animal and allow her to shoot me.

Pointless though it was, she continued to attempt to free her other wrist. The cock of the pistol echoed in the room. “No.” She closed her eyes, thinking of Nick.