The Price of Pleasure (Sutherland Brothers 2)

"Where have you been?" Cammy cried. "I was about to fetch the constable."

"You won't believe what happened," Tori said quickly. "The horse wandered away and we were stuck on the beach." That wasn't exactly a lie.

When Cammy raised her eyebrows at them, Grant asked, "How was your day yesterday, Miss Scott?"

Tori looked from one to the other and thought there was more to the question.

"My day went favorably well. In fact, I have great news. Tori, I saw the doctor."

"But I thought he wouldn't be back for a couple of days," Tori sputtered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't tell you because I was afraid of what the prognosis would be. The physician asked me scores of questions and did hours of tests." She paused and said, "I know what's been wrong."

Tori sank down. "Well..."

Cammy picked up a piece of paper and read from it. "Patient has persistent fluid depletion--that's a fancy way of saying I don't drink enough water and that makes me forgetful and erratic--and a chronic pathological reaction to ingesting fish of any kind."

Fish? Tori was horrified. "B-But that's all we ever ate."

"Quite."

Every time she'd brought them fish, she'd been unwittingly poisoning her friend. "So you drink water and don't eat fish and you'll be well?"

"It's a bit more complicated that that. I have to get minerals in my blood and build up my strength. And this illness has taught my body to reject food. So I'll be forcing down broth for a few more weeks. But the lingering forgetfulness should fade promptly."

"So you can get well."

She nodded. "The return trip will set me back a bit because of the seasickness, but after that, I can make myself well again."

Tori leapt up to hug Cammy. All of the years of worry, of not knowing. Now they had an enemy they could see to fight. And if Camellia Scott was anything, she was a fighter.

Tori thought of this excellent news and of her time with Grant and sighed, "This is the best day of my entire life."

Grant stared into his cup of black coffee, not even glancing up as Ian stomped into the ship's salon and dropped to a chair.

"If you're just going to look at it...," Ian said as he slid Grant's cup over and drank deeply. "I saw you come aboard this morning."

"So?"

"So, you and Tori...Shouldn't you have been whistling?"

"How do you know I wasn't in a brothel?" He might as well have asked, "How do you know I wasn't on the moon?" Ian's unmoved, knowing look was the same.

Grant snapped his fingers. "Wait, I know. Because you would have seen me there."

Ian shook his head, his good mood unaffected by Grant's surly tone. "My companions were my brandy and cheroots. We had a sublime evening lounging on deck." When Grant said nothing, Ian asked, "Can you really say you regret it?"

For him to even ask..."Of course I can," he answered, his voice low.

Ian snorted. "If that's what you tell yourself."

Grant raked his fingers through his hair. "You don't understand."

"Then explain it," Ian said, propping his boots up on another chair.

"A year ago, I promised a frail old man that should I find his granddaughter, I would protect her with my life. I told him to rest easy on that score. And should her parents be gone, I swore I'd be her guardian until I delivered her back to him. And he believed me, knowing I've never broken my word."

"But what's done is done--"

"And did you know that if he passes away before we return, I'm to be her permanent guardian? That was how much he trusted me."

Ian looked snared. "So you bungled that--"

"And there was no reason for him not to trust me. I built my reputation. Worked on it. Denied myself to solidify it."

Ian shook his head forcefully. "Life is too short not to take happiness where you can find it. Especially when no one gets hurt. Marry her and be done with all this agonizing. You know you have to. You could even now be a proud papa-to-be."

Grant ran a hand over the back of his neck. "There's no chance of that."

Ian frowned, then flashed a grin of realization. "You sly devil! Grant, you truly have depth."

"If you keep this under wraps, we can avoid marriage."

Ian raised his eyebrows. "I still don't understand why you would want to."

"Did you ever think I wouldn't be the earl's first choice for her husband? Their title is without money, but it's still ancient. I have no land of my own. I'm a decade older--"

"Inconsequential when compared to the fact that you're her choice. She chose you."

Grant shot to his feet. "There wasn't a choice. She didn't prefer me out of a pool of suitors. She was cheated out of parents, out of a childhood, and now I've cheated her out of something else she should have expected. Courting, beaus, a season. Being young and narrowing her decision down to the right man. And look at her--there will still be courting and beaus, only it'll be after I marry her."

"I don't think you give her enough credit."

Grant stalked the room. It seemed much smaller than usual, hemming him in. "You give her too much."

Ian exhaled in impatience. "I'm going to see her today. Anything you'd like me to tell her? Any flowers to deliver?"

"Tell her I'll be busy this week."

"Does idiocy run in our family, or did it only strike you?" At Grant's lowering look, Ian finished Grant's coffee and strolled away.

Grant slammed his fist against the table. He wanted to forget everything about yesterday, forget that he'd ignored propriety and honor, and forget the things he'd done with a virginal girl in a shed. He feared he'd treated her like a whore, bruising her and showing her things no proper lady would ever dream of. And that worry tore at him. He wasn't right when he was around her, and the sooner they parted, the better.

After an incredibly miserable day, he lay in bed, aroused as usual and wondering why he didn't go take what she offered. Technically, they didn't have to marry. But if he was a true gentleman, he'd offer for her. And if he offered for her, then he could have her. All of her...

He heard a light tap, and was instantly on his feet, stabbing his legs into his trousers and yanking open the door. Victoria stood, almost shyly, just outside with the wind molding her skirts to her legs. Did she wear nothing beneath? He grabbed her arm and pulled her in.

"How in the hell did you get down here?"

"I walked."

"You could have been killed. You--"

"Well, actually, I bought this map and then had the hotel owner mark all the particularly bad spots." She showed him the map. "See my course? I had to zigzag a bit, but--"

"Where are your damned underskirts?"

"I didn't want to wake Cammy getting those petticoats out." The bubbly excitement left her voice, and she admitted softly, "I missed you. You never came around."

He grasped his forehead with one hand. "We have a problem, you and I. What we did at the beach was wrong. And it can't happen again."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "It had to. And it has to happen again." Catching his gaze, she whispered, "I feel like I'll lose my mind. All I can think about is you and your hands on me." She brought his hand up and laid it on her breast.

He groaned. "Why do you do these things?"

"Because it feels so wonderful."

"So all you're doing with me is obeying impulse?" he asked in a low, cruel voice as he yanked his hand away.

"What's wrong with impulse?"

"Everything." He ran a hand over his face. "What if you have these impulses with another man?"

"But I won't. I only feel this way for you."

"How can you know that?"

"I know that when my mother first met my father, she fell for him, never thinking of another man for the rest of her life. I feel that way about you."

He'd sucked in a sharp breath during her admission, then let it out slowly. "If anything else had happened, you'd be forced to marry me."

"Anything else?

So we're not going to have to marry just from what we did?"

"We don't have to marry for that."

"Then the way I see it, we can do just those things again."

"That's not how it works." Did he sound like he regretted that fact? "Things might...get out of hand." He set her away. "And then, did you ever think that I might get you with child?"