Why was he angry? She searched his face in the dim light. She said nothing.
“What, Mrs. Butler? Doesn’t your marriage please you? Have you already discovered that selling your body to a rich man involves less than pleasant duties?”
“I don’t understand, Mr. Hammond. Why are you—?”
He cut her off abruptly, slashing his hand through the air in front of her. “There is no need, Mrs. Butler, to pretend anything to me. When I first met you, I thought—Well, no matter. It is not often that a woman is what she appears to be.”
“And just what did I appear to you to be, sir?”
“Sweet, untouched, innocent.” The words, honest words from the depths of him, were out before he could stop them.
“Until you spoke with Jeb Donnally,” she said dully. “I understand now. He’s a filthy old sot, a crony of my father, who is equally despicable. You surprise me, Mr. Hammond. I would have thought that a gambler, a professional gambler, would be more discerning about people.”
He searched her pale face, wondering at the bitterness in her voice, but he was not to be deterred. “He might be an old fool, but he did tell me that you’d have to search outside San Diego for a rich husband. I gather the Californio’s seed didn’t take root?”
Without thought, Byrony slapped his face. He grabbed her wrist, feeling the delicate bones grind beneath his fingers.
“You bastard. You know nothing. How dare you believe what you believe, all based on that old man’s lying tales?”
He dropped her wrist. “A lady doesn’t strike a gentleman, now, does she?”
“You are no gentleman.”
“And you are no lady. A word of warning, my dear. You strike me again, or make the attempt, and I shall retaliate in kind.”
Byrony said, furious, “Damn you, I had to marry him. Do you understand me? No, don’t say any more. It is obvious you’ll never understand anything. You are too stupid.”
She turned on her heel, but he caught her arm and twisted her around. “So, it is his seed that grows in your lovely body? Well, isn’t that interesting. Since you are no lady, and since your dear husband isn’t about, why don’t we—” He broke off suddenly, bent down and kissed her.
He held her arms tightly against her sides and she couldn’t move. His mouth was hard, alien. Just as suddenly, he eased the pressure and she felt his tongue on her lower lip, probing. His hand came up to cup her breast. She burst into motion.
She pulled away, and wiped her hand across her mouth. “You—”
“Bastard?”
She saw red.
“It appears your dear husband hasn’t taught you much about pleasing a man yet. You’ll learn, my dear. If you are nice to me, perhaps I’ll instruct you—”
He yelped in pain, and clutched his groin.
Byrony, shaking from shock and the vicious kick she’d given him, jerked about and ran from him, holding her skirts high.
Brent felt the inevitable wave of nausea and remained crouched over until the worst of the pain passed. He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. Slowly he straightened, and his eyes went down the deck. She was gone.
“You will pay for that,” he said softly.
Byrony ran full tilt to the cabin. She paused a moment, leaning her forehead against the door. Tears burned her eyes, and she rubbed them away. How wrong she’d been about him. No meanness in his eyes. What a fool she’d been. He was like all the other men, bullies and worse. She rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth.
Brent remained on deck, thinking of how to get back at her. Unfortunately, each of them ended with him having sex with her. He didn’t know how much time passed. When he heard a scream, his entire body stiffened. He jerked about to see a man trying to heave a woman overboard.
For an instant his mind was a complete blank. Then he was running toward them, yelling at the man. He saw him try a final time to heave the woman overboard, saw her long mantle catch between his legs. He pushed her violently into the railing, clouting her back with his fists.
“What’s going on here? Hey, stop.”
He saw the woman drop to her knees on the smooth deck, gasping for breath.
“Mrs. Saxton? Good God, ma’am. What the hell is going on? Who is that fellow?”