Free Victorian Dream by Gini Rifkin

place.
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    “I’ll take care of things proper this time,” Bartholomew promised. “It’s personal now between the Captain and me. Besides, who can you trust like you trust me? Who else has committed murder for you, eh? Our past deeds have made us brothers of the future.”
    Lucien didn’t trust Bartholomew any more than he would trust a total stranger. In fact, he trusted him less. Grimsby literally knew where the bodies were buried. He couldn’t take a chance on cutting him loose just yet.
    “Both jobs are yours,” he conceded. “Our ship is out of Cape Coast Castle, laden from stem to stern with Bombay Magic. It comes to port at Brighton, within the next few weeks. I’ll keep you posted. A few pounds in the usual pockets should assure our secrecy, and mollify the authorities regarding inspection and documentation.
    “You are to reassign the cargo for distribution as usual, north by rail and to Paris by ship. The profits will be enormous. The special item onboard is to be warehoused here.
    “And the Captain? I’ll not rest easy until that one’s gone under.”
    “Once the shipment is secured, you may make him your top priority. You have free rein as to the details, just make sure the job gets done right this time.”
    Deciding to stay the night, Lucien went to find Beatrice. She was sprawled across the mattress face up, fully clothed. Since he was the one who supplied those clothes, he felt no remorse as he rent her over-blouse to the waist. She wore no proper corset, and her ample breasts spilled over the top of her camisole.
    In his mind he wanted another, but untamed desire hardened his body demanding release now, and Beatrice was here and wouldn’t refuse him. She never did. She never tried to help in his attempt to save himself for the woman he cherished.
    Beatrice smiled and reached for him. She was a temptress. A siren leading him astray, knowingly corrupting him when he should remain pure. She thought to bind him with her willingness to please. Now she would have what she wanted so badly.
    He shed his clothes, and slid onto the bed. Her smile faltered as he tore at her skirts and plundered her, first with his fingers then with the part of him driving him beyond control. With animal lust, he consummated the act, unleashing his vengeance against all that was unjust and unfair in his world.

Chapter Seven
    Although it was long after dark, and the hour quite late, Trelayne squared her shoulders, blinked a few times to clear her vision, and referred again to her mother’s household ledger.
    Tomorrow was Michaelmas, a day celebrated at Royston Hall since the 1200’s and every detail must be attended to. But her heart wasn’t truly in the undertaking. Without her parents, it wouldn’t be the same. Still, she was determined to make them proud, determined to conquer the responsibilities thrust upon her in their absence.
    The families who lived in the surrounding areas anticipated Michaelmas with great expectation. It was one of the few days each year when they abandoned their cares and concerns. Therefore, the day must be as festive and exciting as it had ever been.
    Michaelmas was a day of thanksgiving, hope, and happiness. She was thankful her parents were alive, and hopeful their recovery would be quickly forthcoming, but future happiness seemed an elusive butterfly just beyond reach. According to her novels, its capture could only be achieved with a special someone at one’s side. Was Captain Garrison such a man?
    Worn out from helping to hang decorations, she slumped down onto a chair, and exhaled a weary sigh.
    Her anger for his neglect regarding the accident had cooled. Originally, she needed someone to blame other than God, or the Fates, or whoever was in charge of these things. Now she wished she had invited him to the festivities, assuming he would be interested in attending. No doubt he fretted over her safety out of a sense of duty, nothing more. He might think their celebration old