The Jezebel (Taskill Witches 3)

Thoroughly shocked, she froze, and then pulled away. “Cyrus!”

“There is no need to be afraid,” he said swiftly, “not while you are with me. Haven’t I always told you that?”

She was far too shocked to answer.

The way he sank back in his seat and eyed her made her discomfort increase. He did not ask her forgiveness for his actions, nor did he apologize. And he kept his hand over hers, as if claiming her.

In that moment

she realized it had been his intention all along to keep her as his own. Not as he had done to begin with, but as something else. Something that made her blood run cold.

From that evening on, Margaret’s senses were ever on high alert. Watchful and cautious, she didn’t draw away from her master, her keeper. Instead she allowed him the briefest intimacy in order to learn the exact extent of his so-called plans. His true intentions toward her hadn’t been honorable at all. Nor was the way he dismissed Mama Beth from their lives.

Like a butterfly from the chrysalis, Maisie’s transformation into a young woman was a fragile flight into a world fraught with dangers. But deep down she was still a Taskill, and she was strong. Which was just as well, because when she discovered the true depth of her keeper’s wickedness, she knew she had to break with Cyrus and forge her own path, no matter what new dangers it might bring.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Maisie, you managed to make your way across in Billingsgate.” Roderick nodded down at the plank. It had been set down as soon as they docked at Lowestoft earlier that afternoon, and had been well used between then and now.

The furrow in Maisie’s brow deepened as she considered it.

Roderick found he didn’t like to see her fretting. In fact, it made him quite restless and uneasy. He walked back across the plank to her side to show her how sturdy it was.

“It was dark in Billingsgate,” she grumbled. “And now I can see exactly how treacherous it is.”

She nodded down at the waters beneath. She was perched shipside, clinging to the railing at her back, looking down at the plank as if she wouldn’t be able to manage it. He noticed how lovely she looked, poised like a figurehead for the Libertas. A little too nervous for that role, perhaps. Nevertheless, it made him smile.

Had she really been this afraid in Billingsgate? Things had happened so quickly that first night it hadn’t occurred to him she would find it difficult. How determined she must have been to leave London. Why? It was his intention to dig to the bottom of it, but he had to get her on shore first so they might dine and talk in comfort and privacy.

“I will lead the way. Follow my steps exactly.” He made a point of taking it slowly so that the board did not bounce as much as it usually would.

When he reached the dock, he gestured at her to follow. “Trust me. What can go wrong? If you fall in, I’ll fetch you out.”

She gave him a horrified look that made him chuckle.

That seemed to urge her on. Grumbling to herself, she edged her way along the plank. When she got close to the dockside, she gained speed, and when she stepped onto solid boards there, she visibly slumped with relief.

“You will master the plank by the time we reach Dundee, and you can step off in Scotland with grace.”

“Perhaps.” She didn’t seem convinced. She had barely straightened up when Brady came bounding down behind her. Hearing him, she darted to Roderick’s side and held tight to him.

Taking advantage of the situation, he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Oh,” she said, when she caught sight of Brady, “how foolish of me.”

“Brady is away in a rush after his Yvonne.”

A woman’s voice called out beyond them.

They both turned to watch as the sailor and his woman greeted one another. Brady grabbed her in his arms and embraced her. Two small children stood by, watching. When encouraged by their mother, they stepped forward with offerings for their father.

Roderick glanced down at his companion. She appeared to be intrigued. “How did she know he was coming?”

“He sent word from Billingsgate. He pays highly to have someone ride ahead to deliver a note. As soon as we dock in England he sends word. Then she has the port master inform her when he catches sight of our masts.”

“Like two spinning stars closing on one another,” Maisie whispered. “It’s quite lovely to witness their reunion.”

Roderick had never thought so, for this reunion meant he might lose one of his best men. But he could see that a woman might be smitten with such a touching scene. “It is not without problems. Brady is a man of the sea. No sailor should be tethered to the shore by a woman, for it tears him apart inside.”