Page 27 of Hooked

I scoffed to myself. My uncle wouldn’t care one way or the other.

He appeared to think for a moment and then gave a quick nod. “I will contact the magistrate and see what I can do about reclaiming the funds that your family accepted under false pretenses.”

My jaw went slack and I felt the blood drain from my face. “What?”

“You refuse to fulfill the contract your uncle entered into,” he said with a shrug of one shoulder, as if it were of little consequence. “Therefore it is only fair that I seek to take back what is rightfully mine. Now, in all likelihood, your uncle will be able to work out some sort of arrangement. If he doesn’t have the money, surely there is some property he could hand over. However, your mother…”

“What about her?”

He pulled out his pocket watch, giving it a smug glance before putting it away again. The gesture was familiar. That watch was a constant fixture on his person. He tracked time the way a farmer tracked the seasons. He claimed his merchant business was successful due to his diligent punctuality. “I imagine your uncle will no longer see the virtue of supporting her once I’ve stripped them of their assets and dragged them all through the mud…because of you.”

I tried to gulp down my emotions, but my lungs fought for air as I tried to adjust to my new reality. How could I be back in this position? Again? I could feel his hooks sinking into me.

I had to fight this. I had to convince him that he didn’t need me or want me. “Why did you give him the money in the first place?” I asked, desperation leaching the strength from my voice. “We had not married. You owed him nothing.” I had no way of knowing if that was strictly true, having not been allowed to read the agreement, but it stood to reason.

Captain Huckley gave what I supposed was meant to be a long-suffering sigh. “Unfortunately, the terrible losses that I have suffered with my other wives have fed the rumor mill and left me with a somewhat unsavory reputation, one I must constantly strive to combat.”

Murderer of wives was only a somewhat unsavory reputation?

“After my dear Lilianna passed on, I longed for a worthy companion for years before I met you. I imagined you as my angel. You would have been a boon to my tattered heart. You can imagine my devastation when you did not arrive at my home at the appointed time. Your family thought you had been killed, but I was not convinced. I searched for you. I questioned everyone. I traveled the road leading from your home to mine time and time again.”

I tried to keep my breathing even, but it was a struggle. Having this man confirm that he had searched for me so obsessively reaffirmed all my paranoia, all my fear.

“And then,” he continued, his face still twisted in the imitation of sorrow. “When I discovered you in Tethurn—“

My world tilted, lurching out of place.

“When I realized you had accepted the position of a maid, that you had debased yourself so much…”

My airway felt shrunken as I desperately tried to pull in a breath. He’d known I was in Tethurn??

“I considered coming to steal you away from there, to save you from such humiliation. But in the end, my pride got the better of me. I did not want to force myself on you. I wanted you to choose me for yourself.”

I couldn’t make his words make sense. He’d found me, years ago when I’d been in Tethurn, and yet he’d left me alone? It didn’t make sense. If he’d been willing to leave me be then, why was he trying to reclaim me now?

“I felt it was best to nudge you in the right direction. Persuasion works so much better than force. So I arranged with Brunson to make your work less enjoyable in the hopes that you would see your error and return to me willingly. He was more than happy to take the money.”

The fact that my legs were still able to support me was astonishing. My body was weak with shock. Brunson. The Butler who had tormented me. Hurt me. He’d done so because of Captain Huckley. Every bruise, every swollen lip had been paid for by my betrothed.

He continued, almost seeming to enjoy telling his tale, expounding on his own depravity. “I was devastated when Brunson told me you’d disappeared. I’d been so close to having you back, and you slipped through my fingers. Brunson couldn’t explain how you’d done it. I looked for you—for quite some time—but then I had no choice but to accept that you truly were gone. Likely dead on the side of the road somewhere because you’d been too stubborn to come home to me.”

He took a step toward me and I didn’t even have the energy to step back. He rested a hand on his chest and put on a pitiful expression. “Your loss devastated me, and I knew your family was suffering just as acutely.” His playacting was disgusting because it was so good. He looked grieved. He looked lovestruck. “So once I’d accepted your fate, I did all I could to comfort them. I had no wish to act heartlessly where they were concerned. Honoring our agreement despite your loss seemed the very least I could do.”

He’d paid my family? Out of the goodness of his heart? No. There was nothing good about his black heart. Uncle Horace had likely coerced the money out of him.

“And so, my dear, those are the facts. A contract was signed. An agreement must be honored.” He had the audacity to look as though he were sympathetic.

“It is not my fault you were foolish enough to give my uncle money in return for nothing.” In fact, I almost could have been proud of Uncle Horace for getting the upper hand if the consequences weren’t now falling on my head. As it was, I could only resent him more. He’d left me to face the impossible choice of saving my mother from destitution or saving myself from a life of misery.

Why, oh why did Captain Huckley have to come here? Why did he have to recognize me?

“It was not for nothing,” he argued, puffing himself up. “It was for honor. I’d signed a contract and I abided by it. And now, so must you. Else your uncle’s livelihood and your mother’s home hang in the balance. I can return to Norsing by myself and inform them that they are ruined because you refuse to honor the deal that they struck, or—”

“It was your choice to give them the money after I was gone. That is your error, not theirs.” My voice screeched in desperation, trying to find a way out.

“But was it?”

“Was it what?”