Page 39 of The Midnight Secret

Flora stood still for several moments, hearing his disgustand rage. Had he come here to shame her? Humiliate her? She held up her hand, showing him the sapphire engagement ring and the premature wedding band, but she was trembling and she knew he could somehow see straight through the lie.

He tutted and shook his head. ‘Please – desist with the lies. You have been caught red-handed, no matter what you think those rings signify.’

‘You know nothing about us,’ she said quietly.

There was a long pause. ‘Don’t I?’ She watched in horror as he pulled from his jacket pocket several folded sheets of paper. She recognized her own handwriting immediately. In her rush to get away from him in the writing room the other day, she had completely forgotten about the letter.

She saw the black look in his eyes as the smirk grew on his lips. It was a full confession to her mother – every transgression, every secret written down. He knew her private shame, her intimate history; he knew why she was here on this ship.

And she knew now why he was here in this room. He was going to blackmail her for his silence.

She took a step back as the threat asserted itself between them. ‘Leave now, before James comes back.’

‘Oh, I’m afraid he won’t be back for quite some time. I saw him heading for Sykes in the Mayfair lounge, so I told your lover he was in the Observation salon. That should keep him busy for a while—’

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he lunged at her, getting a hand to her thick coat before she could step out of the way. The weight of him brought them both down onto the carpet in a flailing mass of arms and legs. She wriggled and kicked desperately, but though he wasn’t a tall man, he was portly and easily able to pin her down with his weight.

‘No!’ she screamed, feeling the air pushed from her lungs. ‘Help me! Help!’

He slapped her hard across the cheek, once, twice – the shock of it stunning her into momentary silence. She opened her mouth again in the next instant but he clapped his hand over it, his other hand tearing away her coat and clawing at her clothes.

His breathing was ragged, a wild look in his eyes as he overwhelmed her with his rage and lust. ‘You’ve enjoyed toying with us all,’ he panted, spittle on his lips as he got his hand under her skirt and tore her stockings. ‘Flaunting yourself, making no attempt to hide your lewdness, staying in here for hours, for days...’

She screamed beneath his sweaty palm, but the sound didn’t register. She shook her head from side to side, trying to free herself from his hand, but he redoubled the force through his arm, locking her into position, his eyes drilled upon hers.

‘Everyone knows you showgirls are tarts...but we gave you the benefit of the doubt for marrying into respectability...’ His hand was unbuttoning his fly now and she felt a tear of fury and fear trickle down her cheek onto the side of his hand. ‘If I told the other men what you are...aslut...do you think they wouldn’t be here too, doing exactly the same...?’

She screamed again, pleading with him, but her cries were muffled vibrations against his palm and he laughed—

Until a roar subsumed him. Flora flinched as he was suddenly thrown off her, James hulking above them with a look she had never seen before. She scrabbled on the ground, pulling herself up, her legs in...trying to cover herself as James reached down and grabbed Tucker by the shirt collar.

‘I’ll kill you!’ he yelled, punching Tucker hard, twice inrapid succession, and pulling back his arm to deliver another blow; but the other man fell back so feebly, his head hanging back as if unconscious (though he wasn’t), that James stalled with his arm poised in mid-air.

‘James, don’t,’ Flora sobbed, hugging her knees now as she sat against the wall.

She couldn’t bear to even look at Tucker as she lay half-exposed on the floor; her skin was still hurting from the pressure of his fingers as he had jabbed and pinched and probed her. She knew that if she were to look, her flesh would be reddened from his marks.

‘No. Mercy’s too good for him!’ James snarled, his fingers flexing for the next punch.

‘Please, James!’ Flora cried, and he looked back at her. ‘...I just want him gone!’

‘Did he – did he...?’ James’s voice broke on the question.

‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘No. But I can’t bear to see him.’ She realized she was crying. ‘I need him away from me.’

James gave another cry of rage as he hauled Tucker to his feet, still holding him by the shirt collar. He shoved him hard against the wall and pushed in close to him, eye to eye. ‘I knew you were scum the moment I laid eyes on you, Tucker. Always oiling around us. I’m going to make sure everyone knows what you are—’

‘No, James!’ Flora cried again, getting to her feet now. ‘You can’t tell anyone! Promise me you won’t say a word!’

James shook his head. ‘He’s a monster! He deserves to be vilified! People need to know what he is!’

‘I’mthe one who’ll be shamed!’ she pleaded. ‘Don’t you see that?’ She took a few steps across the room, halting halfway. The thought of getting any closer to Tucker made her feel sick.

‘Flora, he can’t be allowed to get away with this!’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘But...not that...Please, James.’ She implored him with her eyes. ‘He didn’t get what he came for! You stopped him.’

But James looked back at Tucker with fresh anger. He couldn’t be mollified on this, no matter how she begged. ‘I ought to throw you out of that window,’ he snarled.

---