Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)

Damn it all to hell. Joss and his stubborn, foolish pride. Gray had to convince him—someway, somehow. They couldn’t both die. He simply couldn’t allow it to happen. The very idea of Bel and Jacob left alone in the world made his limbs go numb.

Joss cleared his throat. “You’ve been trying to manage my life for years now, Gray. If you’re suddenly in the mood to make a grand sacrifice, do me this favor: For once, let me be my own man.”

The anger in his brother’s voice stiffened Gray’s spine. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve given me no choice in any of this. You sold my home out from under me and forced me out on the sea the first time. You knew I wanted to settle here after … after Jacob was born, but you dragged me back out again. If I’m going to die, at least let me go to my grave with a shred of autonomy.”

Now Gray was angry, too. “You love the sea, Joss. I know you do. At least you did, before Mara died and took the best half of you with her.” He saw his brother wince at the mention of his wife. Good. It was long past time they stopped mincing around it. “We had plans. We were supposed to be partners. You’re the one who went back on his word, decided he’d rather dig in the dirt and indulge this ridiculous scheme of Bel’s.”

“It isn’t a ridiculous scheme.”

“Come now, a sugar cooperative?” Gray scoffed. “One season, and you’d be bankrupt. And then how is your son supposed to respect his father, the sharecropper? How is anyone going to respect you?”

“Here’s a better question. Why doesn’t my own brother respect me? You’ve never once trusted me to make my own decisions.”

“That’s because you make stupid decisions!”

Joss glared at him. He took a slow breath before continuing. “No, it’s not. It’s because you’re forcing me into a life I don’t want, just to assuage your own guilt. It’s because you’re legitimate, and I’m a bastard. It’s because you

’re white, and I’m black.”

“Damn you, Joss. It’s because we’re brothers. Stop trying to make every argument about our disparities. You’re my little brother, and I’ve a God-given right to care about you.” Gray ran both hands through his hair.

“We had fun all those years, chasing down packet ships. Things were good between us, until Mara died. We had plans. You reneged on them and made me the villain. Is it really so terrible, that I want something better for you, for our family?”

Joss blew out a breath. “No. It’s not.”

“Then why are you so damn angry with me? For leaving with all our proceeds?”

“For leaving at all.” Joss stalked to the far corner of the cell. “When Mara died, it was hell for me. It wasn’t easy for Bel either. They were close. So Bel and I didn’t leap at the chance to go off to London and leave the only home we’ve ever known. Can you honestly blame us? We were grieving. We needed you, Gray. I needed you. All that huffing and storming you did, about what was best for the family … Well, your family needed a brother, and you just left.”

Gray stared at him for a moment and swallowed hard. “I knew you were hurting. Don’t you know it was killing me, to just stand by and watch grief eat you alive? There wasn’t anything I could do, save securing our future, providing a home. Perhaps I went about it all in the wrong way, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

“I know.” Joss put a hand to his face. “I know.”

“Do you?” Gray waited until his brother looked up. “Joss—” His voice cracked, and he tried again. “No matter how old we get, you’re still my little brother. While there’s breath in my body, I can’t allow you to hang. Don’t ask it of me.”

“But it’s all right for you to ask it of me? You’re not the only one capable of brotherly affection, you know.” Joss crossed the cell and stood before Gray. “It’s not your fault, what ever happens. You do understand that?” He put a hand on Gray’s shoulder. “I know you’ve always tried to do your best by me, in your own insufferable, arrogant way. You’ve been a decent brother, Gray. And a damn good friend.”

Gray swore. He looked to the side, then back at his brother. “Fair warning, Joss. If you don’t take your hand off me … I will have to hug you.”

Joss laughed. “After that speech, I’d be damn disappointed if you didn’t.”

Gray grabbed his brother in a rough embrace. Joss thumped him on the back as he hugged him close.

“What’s all this talk about dying, anyway?” Joss asked, pulling away with moist eyes and a sly smile. “We’ve cheated death before. I reckon we’ve one more life in us yet. Maybe Wilson will come up with something. Or Bel will work a miracle.”

“Maybe.” Gray heaved a rough sigh and slid down the wall until he sat on the floor, legs outstretched.

Joss joined him. “I mean it, Gray. No more talk of hanging or noble sacrifice.”

Very well, Gray thought. I won’t talk about it.