Bring It Close Read Online Free PDF

fellow who can serve your purpose with loose buttons and a hard prick.”
    The bluster was to mask his doubt. How soon did a woman know she was carrying? Immediately? One month, two, three? He had never asked, never bothered to find out. Such things were women’s matters, women’s business.
    Moving to sit on an upright chair, Alicia crossed her feet primly at the ankles, rested one elbow on the table and balanced her chin on thumb and finger. “Your daughter died soon after birth. I trust your seed is not weak, Jesamiah Acorne.” She tossed a contemptuous glance at the bedchamber alcove, “From what I hear you and the Dutchman’s widow have not been virgin-pure together, yet I do not see her belly swelling.” She patted her flat stomach again. “The little one I may be nurturing in here as consequence of our liaison I will claim as Phillipe’s, not yours. I need his son because I want la Sorenta.”
    Jesamiah laughed as he sat on the red cushions topping the lockers beneath the windows, his fingers curling into the blue shawl Tiola had left there. Her favourite. She would be sorry to have forgotten it. “A son? You already have two! One by your first husband and one of Phillipe’s. I gave the child a gold coin as a christening gift, you will recall.”
    Alicia shook her head, dabbed at a genuine tear. “Yellow Fever took them both. Phillipe also nearly succumbed.” Her sorrow changed rapidly to bitter venom. “He survived only for you to tip him overboard to drown.”
    Jesamiah shook his head, folded his arms. “Not so. I strangled him. With one o’ those.” He pointed at the blue ribbon in her hair. “They ain’t just for prettyin’, darlin’.” He stood abruptly, walked to his desk that fitted neatly into the curved shape of the bulwarks, yanked open a small drawer and removed a pristine length of ribbon. Swiftly his fingers tied a killing knot at its centre and striding across the few yards between them he was suddenly behind her, had it looped around her elegant, ivory-pale neck. He crossed his elbows, wedging one into the other for purchase and with the ribbon ends clenched into his fists began to pull, the pressure on the silk squeezing against her windpipe.
    Frantic, terrified, she clawed at the ribbon, panic storming through her; breath and spittle gurgling in her choking throat. As rapidly, he released her, opening his fists and throwing the garrotte aside. She collapsed onto her knees, hands clutching at her bruised throat, unable to speak, gasping air into her restricted lungs.
    “You bastard!” were the first croaked words she managed.
    “That’s me,” he said with a nod. “I’m the bastard, you’re the bitch. We’re even.”
    As she scrambled back onto her feet he turned away from her, bored with the charade. Watched as the Fortune of Virginia dropped canvas and began to glide with the tide towards the narrow channel between the sand bars that formed the entrance to Nassau harbour. Without a telescope he could not clearly see the figures scampering on deck, but he knew they were only crew hurrying about their business to get the ship under way. Tiola would not be there, looking back at him.
    Swinging round he turned his attention to Alicia. “So what is it you want? You’d best tell me now and tell me quick for I have things to do – and playing Tom Fool to your self-indulgent games is not on the list.”
    “I told you; I want money. The law of inheritance is inconvenient. Without specific arrangement a woman cannot receive her husband’s estates, they may go only to the nearest male relative. The plantation and all its assets have therefore passed to you. They should be mine. La Sorenta is my home. I want you to give it to me, or pay me suitable recompense.”
    Head tipping backwards, mouth open, Jesamiah roared with laughter.
    Not understanding the jest, Alicia scowled. She did not like being mocked. Too many men had used, abused and humiliated her. And she needed money.