"That had nothing to do with it!"
Bigsby looked confused. "Then what did?"
Derek shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "She can do better. Nicole doesn't need a drunk who's a decade older."
"So stop drinking, Captain. And nine, maybe ten years is hardly a notable span between you," he said reasonably. Then, as if counting down a list, he asked, "What's the next reason you left her?"
Derek couldn't believe the temerity of this man. Bigsby had chosen the wrong time to demonstrate his new spine. "You want to know?" he seethed. "I'll tell you--I am already married!"
The man's lips parted, but no words emerged.
"I can see I've shocked you. Yes, I have a wife in England. A wife I despise whom I've never touched, but a wife all the same."
Bigsby's eyebrows rose as he digested that information. Then he responded, "I'm sorry to hear that. It will be difficult for you and Miss Lassiter while you're getting divorced from your current wife, but it will pass." He looked about to say more, thought better of it. "Good night, Captain," he said, and departed.
How easy Bigsby made it sound. But he didn't know about deathbed promises and family secrets better left buried. Derek had done Nicole a favor.
Because he loved her.
A sharp, agonized roar burst from his chest as he flung the jewels into the sea.
Their ship hadn't even docked at the Cape when Nicole spotted her father and his crew among the waiting crowds at the docks. The first line was barely secure before she ran across the gangway, pushing around people in her haste.
"Father, I'm so sorry about the ship," she whispered as he drew her into a hug. "I never meant for this to happen." Tears trailed down her face.
"Hush, Nicole," he said, his voice thick. "I don't care about anything as long as you're safe."
"You weren't supposed to come after me," she admonished, then added in a derisive voice, "I'd planned to save the day for everyone."
"It's past, now. We're going to be fine." He gave her another crushing hug before he turned her to his crew. "They worried about you."
When she saw them all fit and safe, she broke into a watery smile. "Everybody's well?" Several nodded smiles in return, some as watery as her own. Then her father turned her again. Maria! She stood beside her father with her arms open. Nicole's face crumpled despite all her best efforts, but it didn't matter as she ran to her.
Inside her motherly embrace, Nicole shook in what felt like a great unburdening. Maria understood unrequited love. Hadn't Maria loved her unwitting father for so long, even now loved him? She'd been through this hurt before, too.
Nicole could feel Maria sharply waving away the crew, a couple of whom patted Nicole's head as they departed. Nicole was glad. She didn't know if she could stop crying.
But even over the sound of Maria's soft Portuguese endearments, she heard her father mutter to Chancey, "He's a dead man."
"No, Father!" Nicole said, turning from Maria. "If you go after him, then I'm not finished with him. I want this finished! I want him out of my life forever." Her tears stopped as anger drummed through her. "I've decided to claim my birthright and keep my promise to Grandmother to find a husband."
Father shook his head. "You don't have to do that. Not anymore."
"I want to," Nicole said, more certain of her future than she'd been in months. "I'm going to wed. I'm going to bask in security and never be cold or scared." She gently pushed away from Maria and ran a sleeve over her eyes. "I refuse to be weak or vulnerable again."
"Well, Captain?" Bigsby asked when they'd docked in London and finished unloading the cargo. "What will you do?" The doctor didn't need to specify about what. Nicole was the only subject they'd talked about the entire voyage back.
Activity on the deck stopped. Everything fell silent. The entire crew--sailors in the rigging, men sweeping the decks--paused, waiting for his answer. Their animosity had dimmed throughout the voyage. Probably because they saw he was wearing down. He looked around at all of them, saw Jeb nodding....
The last three months had introduced Derek to a new level of loathing his life. He was never without the regret that ate at him. As soon as he'd left, he'd doubted his decision. But for once, he'd wanted to do the right thing, the best thing for Nicole. Chancey was right about him. She could do better.
Then, halfway back to London, Bigsby had brought up the killing blow to his resistance: "She could do better, but could any man love her more than you do?"
No. It wasn't possible.
He resented everything that kept him and Nicole apart. That resentment had grown into a poisonous rancor so strong, it could no longer be contained.
He would divorce his wife.
And break his deathbed promise to his father. A divorce would devastate his mother and embarrass the family even more, but that couldn't be helped. He refused to imagine a life without Nicole, and she deserved to be married.
"I'm going...to find her." He walked away to the sound of cheers and clinking coins as bets were paid.
During the hackney ride to his London home, he wondered if she would even have him. Then the memory of their last night together flashed into his mind. He'd loved her, holding nothing back because he'd known it would be their last time together. And she'd given him everything....
He looked up when the cab stopped in front of his town house and ran a hand down his face to pull himself together. As soon as he stepped down, his mother and brother greeted him from the front door with welcoming smiles.
"Derek, you're finally home!" Amanda called in surprise, then added, "You look like hell." He smiled wryly before looking up to see his brother jogging over.
"Welcome home, Derek. We read about the win. Congratulations." He offered him a hearty handshake.
"I never thought I'd say this, but it's good to be home."
When his mother had them settled in the sitting room with tea and a light repast, Derek recounted the highlights of the race, purposely omitting Nicole from the story. But throughout the telling, his mother looked edgy, as if she couldn't stay still in her seat. He could swear Grant cast her quelling glances.
When he cut short his tal
e, she said in a rush, "We, um, have something to tell you."
"Mother, don't you think we can discuss this later?" Grant interrupted warningly. "As you said, Derek looks as though he's had a hell of a journey. We can wait until he's settled."
Amanda pressed her lips together. "Well, I've waited weeks to see this thing resolved, and I'm sure he'll want to know what we're talking about."
"Indeed," Derek said with a sigh as he leaned back in his seat. "What's happened now?"
With one last look at Grant, his mother grasped Derek's hand and turned a sympathetic face to him. "Your wife's pregnant," she revealed abruptly. "I see I don't have to tell you that you can by no stretch of the imagination be the father."
Chapter 25
N o, you quite do not," Derek answered, running his palm across the back of his neck.
"She's three months along," his mother explained.
"Are you certain?" he asked, not wanting to get his hopes up prematurely. They'd been through this before. If she was indeed carrying another man's child, in his family's eyes he would have no choice but to divorce her. "How do you know this?"
"She's showing," she said, then added in a confessional tone, "and not prettily."
"Mother, please!" Grant interjected. "I'm sure this information is overwhelming enough as it is. Let's keep to the facts." He turned back to Derek. "She wants to dissolve the marriage to wed some foreign count. Apparently, it's his child."
His mother nodded, agreeing happily with what Grant had said. She appeared to be struggling not to clap her hands.
"He has even more money than you do," she said, as if that explained everything. In Lydia's case, he supposed it did. Now her unprecedented visit to his ship made sense. She'd been shrieking for money, probably because she wanted to impress and snare the rich count. Poor, misbegotten bastard. But better him than Derek.
His mother sighed, "I can't wait for this nightmare to be over. You'll be able to remarry--"
"You wanted me to remarry?" he demanded sharply. In all remonstrances, she'd never said such a thing.