“I’m all right,” Chauncey Saxton said, her body shuddering. She raised her white face to his. “He tried to kill me.”
Brent cursed. The whole business was insane. Attacked by one woman, saving another. He got hold of himself. “Come, ma’am. He’s gone now.” Brent picked her up into his arms.
“Del,” she said. “Please, my husband—”
A man came rushing up to them. “What the hell?”
“Your wife, Saxton,” Brent said. “She’s all right, thank God.” She began to struggle against him, and he set her on her feet. He watched her run to her husband.
Brent watched Delaney calm his wife. He felt a twinge of perhaps jealousy at their closeness. He met Del Saxton’s eyes. “What happened?”
“It appears that someone—a man—tried to throw your wife overboard.” Brent lowered his voice, adding, “Perhaps it was an attempted rape.” Brent saw the wild anger on Delaney Saxton’s face at his words. He heard him say soft, reassuring words to his wife.
“Hammond, did you see his face?”
Brent lit a cheroot, blowing out the smoke before replying. The incident had shocked him and made him wonder what the hell was going on. “He was dressed roughly, a wool cap pulled down over his forehead. When he heard me coming, he ran toward the steerage stairs.”
Mrs. Saxton said, “I didn’t see him, Del. He was behind me, and I didn’t recognize his voice.”
“What did he say, love? Do you remember?”
“Something like ‘I’m sorry.’”
“A criminal with regrets,” Brent said. Why the hell, he wondered,
would anyone want to kill Del Saxton’s wife? It made no sense, no sense at all. Unless the man was crazy—
“Hammond, would you please ask Captain O’Mally to come to our stateroom?”
Brent nodded, and watched Saxton lift his wife into his arms and walk away with her. He stared thoughtfully after the couple, then tossed his cheroot over the side into the still, dark water. She would have died, he thought, if he hadn’t been on deck. If he hadn’t been insulting Byrony, the man would have succeeded in murdering Chauncey Saxton. He felt a brief stab of pain at the memory of the words he had thrown at Byrony’s head. But they were true. But what if they aren’t? What if she is just what she appears—innocent, sweet? Damn, he felt as if the world had taken a faulty turn. He didn’t want to insult her; she meant nothing to him. It was none of his business in any case.
He went to find the captain, knowing that the chances of tracking down the man who’d tried to kill Chauncey Saxton were next to nil.
Brent helped in the search. He couldn’t identify any of the men they questioned. Not surprising, he thought, much later when he finally lay on his bed. Why would anyone want to kill Chauncey Saxton? Why would Byrony marry Ira Butler?
Brent finally slept, but his dreams were of a man trying to push Byrony into the river. He tried to save her; she was screaming his name, but he wasn’t in time. He saw her blue mantle spread around her, pulling her under the black water.
He jerked awake, his body covered with sweat. Damn her. He was hard, his body heavy with need. He suddenly remembered her bitter words: I had to marry him.
What did she expect, anyway? A child usually resulted from sex. At least Ira had married her. He cursed her again, and turned onto his stomach.
Early the following morning, Brent watched Chauncey and Delaney Saxton leave the Scarlet Queen. He didn’t blame Delaney at all. Were it he, he wouldn’t remain to see if the man tried again. He would protect what was his.
He saw Byrony, flanked by her husband and her sister-in-law. She looked pale. He wanted to smash Ira in his handsome face.
He turned on his heel, refusing to acknowledge her or her damned husband.
SIX
Brent had taken only two steps when Ira’s voice rang out behind him. “Mr. Hammond.”
He turned slowly, a thick black brow arched upward.
“Won’t you join us for a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, do come, Hammond,” Ezra Lacy said.
He glanced briefly toward Byrony, but she was staring at her hands, folded in her lap.