Fateful

  She also announced that you’d been let go. I imagine that was quite a scene. She obviously thought I should know that there are penalties for defying her efforts at matchmaking. But I hope you are enjoying having another afternoon at liberty, the first of many days when you’ll choose your own path.

  If you have more free time at dusk, will you join me in my cabin? Even though I know you understand—you more than anyone—there are things we need to say.

  Alec

  “Alec wants me to come to his room just before sunset,” I say.

  Myriam frowns. “This doesn’t strike me as the wisest time to visit a werewolf.”

  “Tonight he won’t change. At least—we think he won’t change.” When she gives me a look, I sigh. “I promise, you don’t want to know.”

  “Are you going to him?” She is serious now, more kindly than I’ve ever seen her. “I know you care for him, but—you know what he is. That there is no hope. Being with Alec Marlowe can only cause you pain.”

  “I know. He knows that too.” The paper trembles in my unsteady hands. As short and kind as Alec’s note is, I understand perfectly why he’s asked me to his cabin. We as much as said good-bye before Mikhail arrived and the initiation ceremony began. But neither of us can let go yet. Not while we might be able to steal one more night.

  Chapter 23

  WHEN I KNOCK ON THE DOOR OF THE MARLOWES’ cabin in the late afternoon, nobody answers at first. Then Alec calls, “Come in.”

  Despite my need to see him, I hesitate before walking inside. His voice is ragged, tense—the way I remember it in the hours just after the change, or just before.

  It’s not long before sunset. Did the touch of silver during his initiation undo all the ancient magic? Will Alec transform into a wolf as always?

  But then I remember how the red wolf fought to keep himself from hurting me that first night, and how he attacked to defend me when he thought I was in danger. I’m safe with Alec—safer than I am anywhere else.

  As I walk inside, Alec is standing at the open door to their private promenade deck. His father is nowhere to be seen. A fire flickers in the fireplace, which surprises me until I realize the breeze blowing in is chillier than it has been before on this journey.

  Alec holds out one hand to me. “Watch the sunset with me.”

  I close and lock the door behind us, then go to him. He wears trousers and his white shirt, but the sleeves are rolled up and the collar unfastened. In fact, the shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his chest. It would be shockingly improper if we hadn’t had our fourth conversation while he was in the nude. “We’ve done everything out of order, haven’t we?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Told each other our deepest secrets almost before we met. Saw each other in our skivvies before we first kept company.” I look down at his long-fingered hand in mine as the cold wind from the ocean tugs at my gold curls. Pushing the strands back from my face, I finish, “Fell for each other before we could stop ourselves.”

  “Tess.” He kisses me tenderly, cupping my face with one palm. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  “Wore my best for you.” This dress is one I was making for Miss Irene before Lady Regina declared it was too “decided” a shade. It’s dark red, the color of wine in candlelight. Though I wasn’t able to afford the trimmings I would have sewn on for Irene, I finished it nicely; the soft fabric drapes well and outlines my figure while remaining modest enough for most occasions. Though there’s nothing modest about the way Alec is looking at me, or how I feel when he does.

  And yet there is sadness in his gaze, too.

  “I need you to make me a promise, Tess.” Alec weaves his hands into my hair, holding me fast. He’s as serious now as on the day we met. “Promise me on your soul.”

  “Not until you tell me what I’m promising.”

  “You won’t like it.”

  “People usually don’t make people promise on their soul to do things they’d like to do.” I take a deep breath. “You know I’d do anything for you. But don’t make me swear without knowing what I’m swearing to. Trust me. Tell me the truth first. I want to know.”

  Alec nods slowly. Then he drops one hand from my face and reaches toward the table. His fingers close around a broad, sharp knife.

  As he presses the handle into my hand, he says, “If I begin to change at sunset—I want you to kill me.”

  “What?”

  “Touching silver during the Initiation might have prevented the Brotherhood from gaining control of my mind. But it might have disrupted the Initiation so completely that it had no effect. I might still be the werewolf I was before, condemned to change every night.” Alec grimaces in such a way that I know he’s thinking of last night, when a man died because of him. “If that’s true, then I have to end this. I won’t live as a slave, or as a murderer. Death would be my only freedom.”

  No, I think, but I don’t say it. Didn’t I tell Alec I’d do anything for him? And I understand why he’s asking. This isn’t a melodramatic gesture: This is Alec saying he’d rather die than be a danger to others. It is the most principled choice he could make. And yet I cannot curl my fingers around the knife.

  “I was going to ask my father.” Alec’s words come in a rush. “But I can’t ask him to kill his own child. Down deep he’s a gentle soul. Doing that would destroy him, forever. I know it wouldn’t be easy for you either, but—you’re strong, Tess. Stronger than I think even you know. I don’t think there’s anything you couldn’t bear if you had to.”

  “So you’re asking me to bear this.”

  The cool air musses his chestnut curls. “You know I hate to ask you. Almost as much as I hate to die. But if the only choice left for my life is be a killer or become the Brotherhood’s slave, then that’s worse than no life at all.”

  When I set out on this voyage, I knew I could no longer live as the servant of the Lisles; if the initiation has not set Alec free, then he, too, is looking at a life of servitude—beyond liberty, beyond justice. Though I planned for a way out, what if there had been no way out for me? Would I have lived the rest of my years as a slave, or would I have chosen to end it?

  Surely I can give Alec no less mercy than I would have wanted for myself.

  Calling on all my strength, I slowly fold my fingers around the handle of the knife until I can pull it away from Alec. I look into his eyes. Though it burns me from the inside out, I say, “Yes. I’ll do it.”

  Alec breathes out, relief overriding what must be his terror in the face of death. “Thank you.”

  “Did you leave a note for your father? Explaining this?” I gulp back a sob. “If I’ve got to kill you, I’ll do it, but I won’t be hanged for it.”

  “Ever practical.” The shadow of a smile flickers across Alec’s handsome face. “I left a note. Two notes, actually, for him to see when he comes back after his late-night brandies with Colonel Gracie. One explains everything, and tells him what I need him to do. The other is a false suicide note. It says that I can’t get over Gabrielle’s death and I’m planning to jump into the ocean. To drown myself.”

  Meaning that it would be left to me and Mr. Marlowe to hurl his body overboard and complete the illusion. Surely his body would never be found. It’s as neat a solution as we could ask. And yet it devastates me, thinking of anyone as vital and alive as Alec being nothing more than a corpse, only deadweight to be thrown into the vast, depthless sea. Tears prick at my eyes, but I grip the knife harder.

  Alec helps guide my hand until the point of the knife rests just beneath his breastbone—mere inches from his heart. “I’m sorry, Tess. I hate to ask you.”

  “Don’t hate asking me to do what has to be done.” I’m strong enough to bear it. I don’t know if I believed that before Alec said it to me, but now I understand it’s true.

  The sun has begun dipping below the horizon—a sliver of orange-gold light sliced by the dark line of the ocean. I shiver as the cold wind whips around us, and for
a moment I can no longer bear to meet Alec’s dark eyes. I stare out at the water instead, and see a few spurs of ice—far more than I’ve seen at any other time during our voyage. “It’s become so cold,” I whisper. “Are we going farther north? Did we change course?”

  “It’s the sea that’s changed.” Alec’s voice is uneven. Courageous as he is, he cannot disguise his emotions in the face of death. “I remember, when we traveled to Europe, the whole ocean was studded with ice. The ship had to stop half a dozen times. It seemed to take forever, and I was so afraid of what I’d become, so impatient to get where we were going—” He falls silent, and I know what he’s thinking: He would give anything for those days back again in this moment when he may have only minutes left.

  Overhead the sky is deepening its shades—still bright blue close to the setting sun, but beyond that periwinkle, and above that, sweeping around us and down to the east, a deeper navy that will soon darken to black.

  I look at the point of the knife. It gleams in the dim light, and it feels so heavy in my hand. Alec’s unbuttoned shirt lets me angle the blade against his bare skin. How hard will I have to push to break through skin and bone and heart?

  “How do you feel?” Desperation chokes my voice. “Can you feel it coming on? Or not coming on?”

  “I hardly know. My heart is beating fast, and I’m sweating—that’s what happens before the change—”

  Oh, God.

  “—but I’m nervous. It could be only that.” Alec is obviously struggling hard for control. “I can’t tell the difference anymore.”

  He’s so scared. My heart goes out to him, and in that moment I feel his pain more sharply than my own.

  “It’s all right,” I say, keeping my voice even. “I won’t let you change. You won’t hurt me. You won’t hurt anyone else. I’ve got you.” It’s as if I were holding on to him above an abyss, instead of being the one who might hurl him into it.

  Our eyes meet again. The rosy sunset light paints our faces. I grip the knife harder, my heartbeat quickening.

  The sun goes lower, and lower—only a thin line of light now—

  —and then it’s gone. It’s night.

  And Alec remains human.

  My body seems to go limp. I let the knife fall from my hand as I stagger backward; Alec catches me and holds me in his strong arms, though he is almost as undone as I am. “Tess,” he whispers into my hair. “I’m free.”

  “You’re free forever,” I repeat. “You have a chance, Alec. You have to have hope.”

  “My brave Tess.” His mouth brushes against my cheekbone, the corner of my mouth. I pull him close and kiss him, then harder, until his lips open and his tongue brushes against mine.

  The wind whips around us, colder and harsher than ever, and Alec pulls me inside, away from the coming chill. We stumble against the heavy carved chair in the sitting room—perhaps this is why I sink to my knees, pulling Alec down with me. Why he slides his arms around my waist as he leans me back onto the carpet in front of the fire.

  Though I know better, and so does he.

  “I can say it at last,” he murmurs as we embrace, our bodies close together. “I love you.”

  “And I love you.” It doesn’t feel like a revelation. It feels like something I’ve known since the moment I met him.

  “Tess.” Alec’s breath is warm against my throat. We’re tangled up in each other now. I pull his shirt open, baring his broad shoulders. His body covers mine. “I can’t offer you anything.”

  Marriage, he means. A future. Everything his bondage to the Brotherhood denies us. All those things that seem so important in the bright light of day but are so meaningless now.

  “You can offer me tonight.” I arch my body under his until he groans. In the last moment before his mouth covers mine again, I whisper, “That’s enough.”

  Hours later, I lie in Alec’s bed, clad only in soft white sheets. Alec lies next to me, still tracing the lines of my body with his fingers, his expression one of wonder. “You’re so beautiful. More beautiful than I ever imagined.”

  “I could say the same to you.” I can’t resist an impish smile. “If I hadn’t already seen how beautiful you were in the Turkish bath.”

  He grins and kisses me, and we fall back on the bed giggling, as if this were only our first night together instead of our last. This is how I always imagined a girl would feel on her honeymoon: cherished, loved, womanly, and fulfilled. I don’t know what all those old ladies were whispering about, claiming that it hurts the first time. Didn’t hurt me a bit, not even at first, and after that first—oh, I understand so much more now. Why people make mistakes for this. Why people risk everything.

  We risked little; I know how to be careful. Alec does too, and he took care of me without my having to ask. Neither of us wants a baby. That’s for the best, I know, and yet I wish somehow I could carry something of him with me always.

  What I’m really wishing is that I didn’t have to tell him good-bye.

  The smile fades from my face, and his too, as he watches. We’ve hidden from the hard truth as long as possible. Time to face reality.

  “You know you have to go,” he says. “For your good, not mine.”

  “I know. Mikhail and the Brotherhood won’t allow a woman in your life. Least of all one who knows their secrets.”

  “And there’s still no saying whether or not they can control my will. Despite the silver, the initiation worked enough to make me free to change or not, on any night except the full moon. It may have worked enough to make them control me. And if they commanded me to hurt you—”

  “You would.” I sit up, holding the sheet to my chest. “I know we have to part, Alec. You made that clear before I ever came here.”

  Alec hesitates. “This is a hell of a thing to say after we—don’t misunderstand why I’m asking—Tess, if you need money to start over in New York, we can give it to you.”

  He’s worried that he’ll make me feel like a whore, as though I couldn’t tell the difference between that and what happened between us tonight. It’s for his sake that I’m glad to tell him, “I don’t need it. Irene gave me two years’ salary as leaving pay; Lady Regina will be furious when she finds out. I’m well set.”

  Alec nods, though he looks uncertain. Two years’ salary to me is probably less than the cost of one of his polo ponies. But it will suit me fine. “Is there nothing I can do for you?”

  “Your father offered me a letter of recommendation. I wouldn’t mind that. Would you have him send it to my cabin before we make dock? I expect he’ll do it in any case, but—a lot has happened. So remind him, maybe.” I don’t know, now, whether I will return to service in America, or whether I’ll look for some other line of work. Irene’s generosity gives me time to consider the possibilities. The letter serves as insurance, though, that I will always have that option open to me.

  “Of course.” Alec speaks so quietly. For the first time, I let myself wonder what things might have been like for us if he were free—if the Brotherhood hadn’t sunk their claws so deeply into him. Would he have wanted to see me in the United States? Courted me like a proper young lady? Even asked me to marry him?

  Those romantic notions don’t burn very brightly in my commonsense mind. Millionaires don’t marry ladies’ maids. And if Alec were not a werewolf, and suffering under that curse, we’d hardly have met. I would have known him only as a young man Lady Regina thought suitable for her daughter.

  And yet I can’t dismiss the idea entirely. I want him so badly. It feels so unfair that this can never come to pass for either of us.

  Now that sadness has crept into our time together, I know the time has come to leave. We’ve had a joyful night, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin it with tears. “I have to go.”

  Alec opens his mouth to protest, but he says nothing. He knows why I have to leave—knows my thoughts almost as soon as I think them. I put my red dress back on, plait my hair back into some semblance of propriety. Beh
ind me, I hear Alec pulling on his robe. When we face each other again, we are no longer joyful young lovers. We are people being parted forever.

  He kisses me even more passionately than he did when we made love. Again and again our lips meet, until I am almost unable to catch my breath. All this and yet I know we are saying good-bye.

  When at last we pull apart, Alec reaches into the pocket of the robe. From there he pulls out his fine linen handkerchief; sparkling within the folds of linen is his mother’s locket. He still can’t touch it.

  “I want you to have this,” Alec says. “Whatever my mother could do for me is done. The protection she wanted to give me—the love this holds—it belongs to you now, Tess.”

  Blinking fast, I take the locket from him and fold it in my palm. “I’ll keep it forever,” I promise.

  “If you ever need help, you know how to find my father. And my father will know how to find me.”

  “If I ever need help.” Though I mean to need no one’s help. I don’t want to become a burden to Alec, convincing myself I must rely on him as a subterfuge to bring us together over and over. That will only cause us pain. “Now you have to be the one to make me a promise.”

  “Anything,” Alec says.

  “Watch the sunrise this morning. You can finally see that again too, and that will remind you to—to have hope. No matter what you’ve lost, no matter what you’ve been through, there’s hope.”

  We kiss again, but now tears are swimming in my eyes and neither of us can bear it. I break away from him and walk out of the cabin without saying good-bye.

  Alec doesn’t make me hear his farewell. He just shuts the door behind me, one barrier that stands for all the others that keep us apart.

  I head back down into the belly of the ship, only half paying attention to where I’m going. By now I know the path well. Maybe I should look around a bit more, as I’ll have no other reason to return to first class and its grandeur. No doubt a steward has already gone to my cabin, hoping to collect the precious key between first and third class; now that I’m no longer in the Lisles’ service, I have no excuse to keep it. But my awareness is drawn inward, as though my entire world were outlined by my skin.