“We’re not your parents.” With his face inches from mine, his blue eyes pierced, sharp and unyielding. “This manor is isolated, secure, and the staff is loyal. Priest and I have been meeting here for fourteen years without discovery.”

“So that’s your plan?” I pushed away from the table, my shoulders quaking with rage. “You intend to marry the virgin and keep your immoral lovers on the side?”

Pain burrowed into Priest’s features. “He’ll expect us to meet him here, in his stronghold of debauchery and filthy secrets, year after year.” He leaned down, seething in Ashley’s face. “Meanwhile, your viscountess will be oblivious to your unseemly manners while she remains in London and breeds your heirs. Is that your solution?”

“Yes.” One syllable, issued with the unrelenting chill of propriety. “It’s all I can offer.”

I saw red, forced myself to blink, and slowly reined in my temper.

“When you chose the Royal Navy over Priest, you fucked him and left him.” Pacing along the back wall, I eyed a row of kitchen knives and plucked a heavy one from its hanger. “I’ll be honest, Ashley. I charged in here a moment ago with visions of Priest fucking you over this table and leaving with me afterward. Perhaps a dose of your own medicine would send you running after us. But we don’t need any more hurt in this relationship. The three of us have experienced enough pain and loneliness to last a lifetime, don’t you think?” I looked at Priest. “Let him up.”

They rose at the same time. Ashley straightened his shirt and retreated a few steps, putting his back against the wall. Priest lowered his hands to the table, slightly bent, watching us both from beneath his dark brow.

Ashley wasn’t even trying to argue or state his case. His English nobility and fealty to his king were so deeply ingrained he wouldn’t turn against it to fight for his own dreams. He would let Priest and me walk out of his life because he genuinely believed he wasn’t allowed to have us.

In a way, I was equally narrow-minded and stubborn, for I saw no other plausible future than living on my ship with him and Priest at my side. I would threaten Ashley, and if that didn’t work, I would capture him the same way he’d captured me. But first, I would try to reach him with my voice.

Standing beside Priest, I gripped his fingers with one hand and held the knife at my side with the other. Across the kitchen, Ashley regarded me, wearing that starched, impassive mask I loathed so much.