Chapter Forty-three

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Rafe was lying in his bunk in the captain’s cabin of the True Love, tossing a coin in the air and catching it. He’d removed his boots and loosened his cravat. One knee was bent, the other leg straight. He stared unseeing at the wooden ceiling. Again and again he tossed the coin and caught it in the same hand. It was a reflex at this point. His mind was long gone, turning in circles exactly like the dropping coin. Tomorrow morning, he and the crew would set sail for France. The letters he’d secured from the Russian spies told him everything he needed to know about the location of the men he was after in France.

He should have been concentrating on the mission, but instead Upton’s words were steadily haunting him. “Don’t let the woman you love slip through your fingers.” What did Upton know about it? How did Upton know about it? Was it that damn obvious that Rafe had feelings for Daphne? He tossed the coin again and caught it solidly in his palm. Damn it. He wasn’t allowing Daphne to slip through his fingers. He’d never had her. She’d made it clear that not only did she not believe him about whoever the hell that blond woman had been, but she also had a list of a bunch of titled gentlemen from which she had already picked another husband. Rafe hadn’t pressed her on naming the chap because he couldn’t stand to know, if he was being honest. It would only cause that awful sick feeling in his middle to return. The same feeling he’d had when he’d met Edmund Fitzwell. Regardless, Daphne couldn’t have been more clear that Rafe was not a suitable candidate for the position. Perhaps ironic, given that he currently was her husband, but that didn’t matter. He’d give her her bloody annulment. He’d already sent a letter to his contact at the Home Office to get the thing started, quietly. And if his unsuitability wasn’t enough, he’d nearly allowed her to be raped and killed on his watch. No. He was absolutely no good for Daphne Swift, regardless of how he might feel about her. He could offer her nothing but mediocrity and danger. He couldn’t believe after what she’d been through at the hands of the Russians that she’d offered to go with him to France. But there was no possible way he’d risk her life again. No. The rest of this mission he had to complete. Alone.

He tossed the coin again. Upton’s words still rankled. Besides, Rafe’s situation wasn’t exactly like Upton’s. Upton had been wounded in Spain. His friend Harold Langford had taken a second bullet meant for Upton and lost his life. That had been Langford’s choice. Rafe was a captain in His Majesty’s army, sworn to protect Donald Swift with his own life. He’d failed. The two incidents were nothing alike.

Not only that but if Julian Swift found Rafe before the French did, he’d no doubt beat Rafe to a bloody pulp himself. Daphne had surely informed her brother of her near escape from the Russians. Rafe had promised to keep every hair on her head safe and she’d already had the makings of a large bruise on her face when he’d taken her home. Apparently, one of those filthy bastards had struck her. If he wasn’t already dead, Rafe would have gone back and finished the job. He would make the rest of them pay, too.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Rafe caught the coin and rose up on his elbow. Who was at the door? At this hour? It had to be after eleven. He consulted his timepiece. Yes, after eleven.

“Come in,” he called, expecting to see Grim or Salty asking about some last-minute arrangements.

The door swung open and Grey was standing there, tight breeches, flowing white shirt, and adorable cap.

Rafe nearly rubbed his eyes. Was it an illusion? “Daphne, what are you doing here?”

She walked into the room and kicked shut the door with her booted foot. Her eyes never left his face. “I wanted to see you, Rafe.”

Rafe leaped to his feet. “Does your brother know you’re here?”

She shook her head. “Of course not. I came because I—”

He put up a hand to stop her. She didn’t need to say it. “You needn’t have come. Don’t worry. I sent word to the Home Office. They’re seeing to the paperwork for our annulment.”

Daphne raised her chin. “I don’t want an annulment. I want to consummate our marriage. Tonight.”