Chapter Twenty-Eight
Talon’s rage and thoughts of revenge sustained him during the weeks it took him to cross the Atlantic. He spoke to no one, sending any potentially friendly sailor skittering off with one hell born glance.
Sutcliffe was a dead man. No matter what the consequences, Talon was determined to make the bastard pay for what he’d done.
After Sutcliffe’s demise, Daniel would be the bloody earl. Perhaps that would finally make his brother happy. For himself, Talon was prepared to face the hangman. It was only fitting since the very fact of his birth had consigned his crew to die.
He did his best to block all thoughts of Kate from his mind. If he thought of her, he’d go mad.
For a few days, he’d toyed with the idea of going to see her before he slit Sutcliffe’s throat. He wanted to make love to her one last time, tell her how much he loved her before he died.
But in the end, he knew it would weaken his resolve. She would remind him of all the things Sutcliffe had stolen from him, all the bloody lies and betrayals.
She would make him want to live again, and there was no room for such thoughts. Sutcliffe had taken seventy lives, and he had to die. It was the only way Talon could redeem himself for being such a stupid fool. He never should have fallen for his father’s lies.
Why hadn’t he demanded some proof that his men still lived before agreeing to break Kate’s heart and abandon his own child?
Had he trusted the bastard, even for a moment?
That was the worst of it, because he knew in the depths of his heart that he’d been a little flattered Sutcliffe wanted him to father his heir. At last his father had acknowledged him. He’d been pathetically happy to know Sutcliffe found him a worthy adversary.
Christ, how the son of a bitch must be laughing at him now.
He arrived in London late in the afternoon a little over ten months after he’d left. Kate might have even given birth to his child by now, but he shoved the thought aside. The baby would be fine. That was what he was here to ensure.
The city hadn’t changed since he’d been gone. It was still too crowded, too busy, too dirty. He thought of the promise he’d made to himself when he’d left about never coming back and wished to God he’d been able to keep it.
He hired a hack and leaned back in the rickety seat, his thoughts racing ahead to the confrontation to come. Would Sutcliffe be surprised to see him, or had he anticipated this, still one step ahead of the game?
Would that hulking footman be lying in wait, ready to take care of Sutcliffe’s embarrassing youthful mistake now that he had his heir?
Talon set his jaw. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he took Sutcliffe with him to hell.
Life without Kate was hell anyway.
The hack turned down the quieter streets where the rich and privileged lived. Talon sat forward, scanning the stately mansions for the one he’d come to know so well.
He had the driver drop him off a few houses away then stood in the gathering twilight, wondering belatedly if Kate was here.
It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility, although he’d assumed she’d returned to the Manor. But her time was close, and perhaps she’d preferred to stay here where she’d have access to the finest doctors.
Heaven help him if she hadn’t left. Because he knew he could never kill anyone, not even his father, if there was a chance she might be hurt by it.
If he caught even a glimpse of her, he might forget why he’d come, fall down on his knees before her and beg her to give him one more chance.
He took a deep breath and circled the house, letting himself in the servant’s entrance. Once inside, he made his way up the back stairs, heading to the room Kate used while she was in residence.
One way or the other, he had to know.
He slipped through the unlocked door, forcing himself not to look toward the sofa where he and Kate had shared their first kiss. Despite the circumstances, it had been one of the most beautiful moments of his life. Even then, he’d known how hard it was going to be to give her up.
A soft noise caught his attention, and he turned his head toward the source. His heart pounded in denial when he heard shallow breathing coming from the curtained bed.
Creeping closer, he heard another noise, a small, thin cry that nearly unmanned him. Kate’s voice whispered in the dark, a soft, sweet breath of sound, quieting the child who must be lying in the bed with her.
The floor creaked beneath his feet. Kate inhaled sharply, and the covers rustled as she sat up and fumbled to light the lamp beside her bed. “Who’s there?”
The room flooded with soft light, and Talon’s gaze locked with Kate’s. She was breathing heavily, her hair falling around her shoulders in chestnut disarray. One sleeve of her pale green nightgown was lowered, exposing her full, white breast.
