The Madman's Daughter (The Madman's Daughter 1)

The knife paused in Edward’s hand. “That’s strange. Montgomery said no one eats meat on the island.”

I’d had the same thought. I studied Edward, impressed that he wasn’t scared out of his wits. Firelight danced across his strong features. His face belonged half cast in shadows, with warm light on the planes of his nose and forehead. He would have looked out of place in the bare electric lights that were becoming so popular in England. I wondered if we would ever again see London. In the small world of the cave behind the waterfall, it felt like we were the last two people on earth.

“So what do we do?” I asked. “We can’t stay out here forever. It’ll be a year before another ship comes.”

“Other ships must pass nearby on the way to Australia or Fiji. Montgomery said there’s a Polynesian shipping lane not far off the coast.”

“So we take our chances with a raft and hope a ship finds us?” I pulled my arms in tight, shivering. “We’ll drift off course. Or go down in a storm. Or die of thirst. You should know better than anyone.”

He sat back, staring into the fire. The tic in his jaw pulsed, just once. He’d spoken so little of what happened when the Viola sank. He didn’t have to. It was written in the sun blisters that still marred his face. “What choice do we have? Your father’s gone mad out here. What’s to say he won’t find a use for us after all? Strapped to his operating table, perhaps.”

“He wouldn’t do that. He’s my father.” I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to speculate how far Father had gone over that line.

Edward placed a finger on my cheek to turn my face back toward him. “You know how I feel about you. You don’t have to say anything in return—it doesn’t matter. I came here to protect you and that’s what I intend to do. Tomorrow we’ll find our way back to the compound. We’ll act like everything is fine—we just got lost in the jungle while exploring. And then we’ll find a way to get off this island.” He brushed my hair behind one ear. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

I studied the tender new scar that ran just below his eye. His bruises had faded, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still there, under his skin, beaten into his bones.

“What was the photograph?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Surprise registered on his face for a second. And then the fold between his eyes deepened. “What photograph?”

“You had a photograph when we found you. It was too water-damaged to make out. I haven’t seen it since.”

He gave a slight shrug, brow furrowed, as though thinking back to the time in the dinghy unsettled him. “I don’t remember any photograph.”

We stayed like that for some time, listening to the water in our own private world behind the falls. I didn’t believe for a minute he’d forgotten the photograph, but the secret was his own, and so were his reasons for lying. The night got cooler, and my soaking dress made my skin turn white. I self-consciously stripped to my chemise to let the dress dry next to the fire. I was too aware of my bare ankles, my bare arms. Edward’s eyes shone bright in the dying firelight, not like a gentleman anymore. But he didn’t try to kiss me again.

The closeness of the cave pressed in, as hard as the memory of his kiss. I knew Edward wouldn’t hurt me. And yet I didn’t exactly feel at ease with him.

I lay down next to the fire, aware of every stone and crack in the ground. Edward lay down behind me, a respectful two feet away, but close enough that I could feel the heat from his body. I fell asleep to the sound of the roaring water and a thousand questions tumbling in my head.

I AWOKE HALFWAY THROUGH the night to find the embers barely smoldering. Edward and I had found our way together in our sleep, my head against his chest, his hands wrapped fiercely around my waist, our legs scandalously intertwined. It wasn’t safety I felt with him, no, more like a deep connection I didn’t even understand. I had a vague memory, more like a dream, of him wrapping his arms around me, breathing in the scent of my hair, muttering against my cheek. I could have stopped him. But I feigned sleep instead, and held him closer.

IN THE MORNING EDWARD was gone. The coals were cold in the light filtering through the screen of water. The cave looked different in daytime, without shadows clinging to the dark corners. It was only a damp outcropping, bare except for clumping moss near the puddles and more spiders than I cared to notice.

The knife, which Edward had left by the fire while we slept, was gone too.

I peered through the gap in the falls. A young man’s na**d form bathed in the shallows of the pool. I jerked back with a gasp, embarrassed to see Edward undressed. I’d never seen a man na**d before. The memory of his body against mine all night and the brief, unreturned kiss made me feel suddenly very warm.

I splashed water on my face from a puddle. Went to check on my dress. Washed the cuts on my arms. No matter how I tried to busy myself, I couldn’t stop throwing glances at the waterfall.

“Oh, dash it.” I tiptoed back to the gap. My heart thumped in my ears.

He had his back to me. He waded up to his chest and ducked underwater, whooping as he came up, holding his hurt rib lightly. I’d never seen him so carefree. And I’d certainly never seen him so . . . exposed. He didn’t have Montgomery’s impressive physique, but there was something undeniably strong in his wiry arms. Arms that had held me last night.

I fanned a little air onto my face.

He scrubbed his head and climbed out of the pool. My fingers twirled the soft ribbon of my chemise’s neckline, knowing I should stop watching. He might turn around at any minute. The thought gave me goose bumps.

He pulled his trousers and shirt down from a tree branch, taking care with his ribs, and dressed quickly. He started toward the waterfall and I hurried back to the fire to wait for him. I slipped my dress back on and closed my eyes, stilling my heart, imagining what Mother would say if she saw me now. I’d never held hands with a boy. I’d certainly never watched one bathing.

A centipede crept over my toe and I jumped. I realized Edward still hadn’t returned. I went back to the gap in the falls, but the pool was empty, and there was no sign of Edward.

“Edward?” I called tentatively. No response. I scrambled down the side of the falls and into the jungle. My foot landed on a rotten yellow fruit. No sign of him.

“Edward, are you there?” I called again. A glint in the fallen leaves caught my eye and I hurried over. Half buried in the leaves was his silver steak knife. Fresh blood stained the blade.