Shipmate: A Royal Regard Prequel Novella by Mariana Gabrielle Page B

barely keeping her small supper intact.
    This was, by far, the worst threat that had
ever been leveled against her in her own house, and she was no
stranger to threats. It wasn’t as though her virtue had any
inherent value elsewhere, with no man ever likely to want it, but
having it taken by force—again and again—was a much crueler
prospect than marrying a kindly man whose only fault was being
unwise enough to do business with her father.
    John made a small movement toward her, but,
at a look from Jasper, stayed his steps, grimacing in Bella’s
direction but offering no support by word or deed. Bella couldn’t
blame him, knowing all too well the ways their father used to keep
both sons in line, now that their fists were stronger and faster
than his.
    “Papa…” She only called him Papa when she
hoped to induce sentiment, and it never worked unless he were
drunk, but anything was worth a try tonight. She pleaded, prepared
to prostrate herself and beg if it might work against the greedy,
feckless men in her family. “I can’t just leave in a carriage with
some man I’ve barely met, who plans to put me on a ship and take me
who knows where. I can’t defend myself against a whole boat full of
sailors.”
    Jasper’s voice grew steely and quiet, “If he
wants to make you a whore for his crew and he’ll pay me as much as
an abbess might, it’s not your place to complain about it. You’ll
do as I say or, by God, I’ll make you regret it.”
    Very quietly, without fanfare, she played
her last card in an even, gentle tone, though the words were sharp
as carpet tacks, and might draw blood—most likely, hers. “I should
think you wouldn’t want anyone to know that Grandpapa’s tin mine
played out before you ever inherited it, nor that my brothers keep
you all in pocket money by cheating at the gaming hells.”
    With that, Jasper rose and stalked toward
her, eyes trained on hers as she shrank back into the chair, trying
to watch his hands without making it obvious. It didn’t matter,
though. He knew. He clenched and unclenched them for emphasis.
    The swipe of his hard hand across the side
of the head would leave no bruise, only set her ears ringing. She
was relatively certain he wouldn’t leave her marked where Lord
Holsworthy might see the damage, as he had never been one to risk
an advantage just for spite.
    It only took a moment to realize the folly.
He grabbed her arm tightly between his quick fingers, and before
she knew it, a lump rose on Bella’s torn lip, the blood on her
tongue just slight, so he hadn’t loosed a tooth yet. She would be
confined to the house at least a few days though, because her
father was too angry to realize he was leaving bruises that
couldn’t be covered. Perhaps, by then, her uncle could forestall
this plan.
    Jeremy stepped behind her chair and Jasper
dragged her up out of it. John averted his eyes, which couldn’t
last long; soon enough Jasper would demand he act like a man and
participate in the bludgeoning. Before any of them really got
started, she begged, “I’ll do whatever you say, Papa. I won’t
argue. I promise I will hold my tongue.”
    “Too right, you will, and I’m about to
remind you exactly why.”
     
    ***
     
    Deep underneath the quilt on her bed, where
Bella had buried herself, curled into a ball, hoping to be left
alone until the morning, she flinched at a light thump on her
bedchamber door. When she didn’t reply, the door handle clicked,
but even with the key available on the other side, the door moved
not an inch, with her hairbrush jammed between the door handle and
latch. If her life was to be made more miserable by her drunken
male relatives, she would hear the yelling before she felt the
pain.
    Jeremy had locked Bella in the room after he
wrested so many screams from her, she stopped making any sounds at
all. She had maintained consciousness just long enough to bar the
door in case he decided to return.
    “Pssst. Sissy,” she heard, muffled