Devi's Paradise (13 page)

She reached Joshua and said, ‘Well, captain, and what do you make of all this?’

He was leaning with his wide shoulders against a pillar, arms folded over his chest and feet crossed at the ankles. She had never seen him unkempt before, but now he was in need of a shave and the clothing supplied him was of poor fit and quality. Clive was with him, looking truly miserable, usually a pin-neat officer, but now scruffy. He was trying to put a brave face on it, but she could tell he was apprehensive.

‘I wish to God I had a few stalwart lads from the British navy with me,’ Joshua said in clipped, angry tones. ‘That would soon teach these blackguards a sharp lesson. I’d hang them all from the yardarm, that confounded French leader of theirs, too.’

‘Really?’ she murmured, teasing him though he was unaware. ‘But I thought he was something of a gentleman.’

‘Gentlemen don’t seize and carry off ladies,’ Joshua snapped, and Alvina thought, well stab me, he’s sweet on our Romilly!

Aloud, she said, ‘That’s true,’ and made big innocent eyes, adding, ‘Do you think he wants to marry her?’

‘No, my lady, I don’t,’ he stormed, and her heart leapt at the sight of his rage and she wanted to bed him without delay. Here was a real man, not a fop.

The scene around them was degenerating into debauchery, only the officers showing any sign of restraint. But suddenly the door crashed open, framing Armand, and he was furious.

‘Get out, the lot of you!’ he thundered and turned on Johnson. ‘Are you so foxed that you can’t keep order? I left you in charge.’ Then Sabrina came into his line of fire and he grabbed and shook her, rousing her from her alcoholic frenzy. ‘Have you no control? I thought I could trust you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, slurring her words. ‘But you know what they’re like when the drink is in them.’

‘Oh, I do indeed,’ he said menacingly, and turned towards his prisoners. ‘Tomorrow we will hold a meeting and decide your fate. Meanwhile, you will be conducted back to your rooms. Never fear, I shall respect your safety. Ask for anything you want and it shall be yours… except freedom, that is. Sabrina, you will take care of Lady Alvina.’

‘And Lady Romilly?’ Alvina piped up, unafraid. He was only a man, after all, and she had many tried and trusted ways of dealing with men.

He looked down at her and she quivered at the intensity of his eyes and the sheer, undiluted sexuality of the man. ‘She is in my chamber, chained to the bed,’ he said crisply.

‘You can’t!’ protested Jamie, making as if to strike him.

Armand smiled darkly, answering, ‘I can and have. She doesn’t seem to be upset.’

‘You villain,’ growled Joshua. ‘If I had my way you’d be tried and hanged.’

‘I expect so,
monsieur
, but this is my island and my regime and my whim whether you live or die. Now, goodnight to you all. I have pressing business that needs attention.’

He bowed and took himself off, leaving Alvina wondering if he was about to return to Romilly and what he was like between the sheets. The images conjured by her imagination made her mouth dry and her lower lips wet.

It is always difficult to sleep in a strange bed and Romilly was chained too, which meant that her movements were limited. Her bruised body needed someone to cherish and heal it and, strong though she imagined herself to be, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

There were strange noises all around; the whine of insects, the clamour of the party, doors slamming, women’s shrieks of laughter, men shouting, the clash of steel on steel as the more quarrelsome among them crossed swords. Where was Armand? She didn’t know which was worse – wanting him to come or fearing his arrival.

As for the loss of her virginity? She had half expected a dramatic transformation to take place once it happened but, apart from tenderness between her legs, nothing had changed, or so she at first thought. But now, lying on his bed in the candlelit room, she realised that she
was
different. Armand had marked her as his own as surely as if he’d branded her with his crest. She would never forget him, no matter what – the first man to enter her body and rob her of her innocence.

At last she fell into a deep sleep induced by Armand’s potion and sheer exhaustion. No one disturbed her for the remainder of the night.

She was awakened with daylight streaming in at the narrow windows and Jessica bending over her, shaking her gently by the shoulder and saying, ‘Wake up, my lady.’

‘What? Where am I?’ Romilly said groggily, then her movements restricted by the manacles, suddenly recalled everything. ‘Oh, sweet Jesus, that man! That brute. Get these things off me, Wade. At once, d’you hear?’ Her voice rose imperiously, momentarily forgetting her ignominious position.

‘I’ll call someone. No wait, I’ve a better idea.’ Jessica produced a hairpin, inserted it in the lock, twiddled it for a second and it sprang open.

‘Where did you learn such a trick?’ Romilly asked, amazed that her duenna should have the skills usually associated with a thief.

Jessica smiled and tapped the side of her nose mysteriously. ‘Ah, my lady, there are many things you don’t know about me, have never bothered to ask, but I had a life before entering your service.’

Romilly wanted to hear more but sat up gingerly, groaning as her injuries sprang into life. At once Jessica was all concern, patting and soothing, fetching over the water jug and basin and bathing her mistress’s hurts even as she grumbled and complained. ‘That beast. I’m ruined. I’ll never forgive him. Never!’

‘Did you meet a fate worse than death?’ Jessica enquired, colouring even as she spoke those dire words, while Romilly found the chamber-pot and used it, her blushes almost as red as her duenna’s when she remembered passing water in front of Armand.

‘Indeed I did. He had his way with me,’ Romilly confessed, unable to meet the chaperone’s eyes.

Jessica clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, you poor thing. I feared as much but hoped against all hope that he might have retained a vestige of manners. What will Lord James say?’

This made Romilly really angry. ‘Why are you thinking about him? What about
me
? I may be diseased because of his vile touch or, worse than that, with child by him.’

‘There is a doctor among his officers,’ Jessica said, patting her consolingly, then helping her into a silk dressing gown that lay across the foot of the bed. She added almost shyly, ‘He’s a fine man who hasn’t adopted piratical rudeness, a member of their band by misfortune not choice. I was speaking with him last night and he was most respectful, a perfect gentleman. His name is Peter Quidley. I’m sure he will attend you, if I ask him.’

‘No one is attending her,’ Armand insisted, startling them as he entered the room forcefully. ‘She’s not harmed. Only her pride has been dented and it’s high time. Far too full of her own importance. She should think herself lucky it was me who deflowered her, not one of my rapscallions.’

‘Yes sir, I’m sorry, sir. I meant no harm but am concerned for my lady.’

‘Very commendable,’ he said ironically. ‘A worthwhile trait in a servant. But I haven’t quite decided whether I shall allow you to stay with your mistress, or maybe take you to the slave market.’

‘To be sold? Oh no, sir… please,’ Jessica begged, prostrating herself at his feet. ‘She needs me and cannot manage alone.’

‘So you still put her needs first? I wish I could command such devotion.’ His face was set in severe lines and his voice flat.

‘You must have known it once,’ Jessica continued from her submissive position.

‘Oh yes, I wasn’t born a pirate,’ he answered heavily, his eyes brooding as if he dwelt on events long ago. ‘I was tricked out of my inheritance by unscrupulous, greedy relatives.’

‘Isn’t that what all criminals say in their defence?’ Romilly put in, springing from the bed and glowering at him.

‘This happens to be true,’ he said coldly.

‘Pigs might fly!’ she retorted, denying the strong pull she felt, drawn to him as magnet is to steel. Had matters only been different she would have sent Jessica away and welcomed him, reliving all those strange and exciting sensations of the previous night.

‘Dr Quidley tells me you are a sensible woman,’ he said to Jessica, indicating that she should rise. ‘This being the case, I suggest that you advise your mistress to comport herself with dignity and control her waspish tongue.’

‘Dare I ask if you have come to a decision regarding her future, and those of her companions?’ Jessica ventured, more confident now that she had been found a sober brown dress, white apron and coif. Outlandish attire made her uneasy.

‘I am assured by Viscount James and Lord George that Lady Romilly’s relatives in Port Royal will pay their ransom, sending word to the Earl of Stanford.’

‘You’ll set them free?’ Jessica cried.

Romilly couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Generosity, from
you
?’ she scoffed. ‘There must be a trick in it somewhere.’

‘Shut your spiteful mouth,’ he snarled, and she rejoiced in finding his Achilles heel.

‘That is no way to speak to a lady,’ chided Jessica, and it was as if she had grown in stature, a controlling mature woman. Even the roughest of Armand’s crew had not attacked her or offered her injury and she had found a protector in Peter Quidley.

‘My good woman, your charge is no lady,’ Armand snarled. ‘Neither is that blue-blooded strumpet, Alvina.’

Romilly lost her temper. Without thinking of the consequences she slapped him across the face with such force that his head jerked back. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, bending it back. They glared into each other’s eyes and she was astonished by what she read there. His pupils where black pools in which she saw herself reflected and she wanted to get closer and closer, drowning in them. He was so near, his chest brushing her breasts, the contact making her nipples crimp.

‘That’s the second time you’ve hit me,’ he said angrily. ‘Haven’t you suffered enough?’

He pushed his thigh between hers and she could feel the hardness of his erection, remembering the cock-ring, the feeling of being filled to capacity, the discomfort followed by ecstasy. She shocked herself by the hot, wanton desire to experience it again. Reacting violently she tore herself free and took several paces back. This was better. She was all right just as long as he didn’t touch her. Armand, however, would have none of this.

‘Get you gone, woman,’ he ordered Jessica.

‘But—’

‘Get out!’

With a worried glance at Romilly, Jessica scurried through the door. When it closed behind her Armand advanced on Romilly, tore open the robe and dumped her facedown on the bed. She kicked and yelled but he ignored these fruitless protests. Holding her down with one hand he opened his breeches and released that mighty, ring-pierced cock. It was wet with pre-come and he spread some of it over struggling Romilly’s arse.

‘What are you doing?’ she spluttered. ‘Oh God, you can’t mean to…? Can you? That’s unclean, dreadful, against the law.’

He chuckled and pushed a finger into her virgin nether hole. ‘The law? You think this means anything to me? I’m about to introduce you to another way of taking.’

As he spoke he dallied with the head of his prick, caressing her crack for what seemed ages, rousing her despite herself, the glans contacting her nubbin from behind, exciting her so much that she was almost mad for relief. She wriggled her hips, attempting to lure him into her vagina, but he had other ideas in mind.

Suddenly his shaft pushed against her anus with unstoppable force. She could feel herself stretching and feared she might split asunder. His jism made it less painful than it would have been if she was dry, but even so she shrieked and near pissed herself. He ground against her relentlessly, till the gold ring and his fleshy helm pushed past her restricting muscles and sank into her depths.

‘Christ, you’re tight,’ he gasped, moving within her.

‘I am, and I hope it hurts you,’ she hissed. ‘I’d like to mangle your cock and damage it so that you’d never more be able to violate me. I’d like to clamp round your tool, squeeze it to death and never set it free, tear it off and keep it within me, forever useless.’

He was panting hard, but managed to growl, ‘You’re enjoying it so much, are you? Such violent talk suggests one thing only… raging desire.’

‘You flatter yourself,’ she muttered, praying that the torture would end, or that she might feel pleasure from the encounter, but there was nothing but discomfort.

He bayed like an animal and she felt hot jets of semen gushing into her fundament. Weakened and depleted as he was she struggled from under him, and immediately his cock escaped from her rectum and he lay flat on his face, head to one side, eyes closed as he breathed in raged gasps.

If I only had a knife, she thought passionately, I could stab him in the back, plunging it into his black heart!

‘Don’t even think about it,’ he said, opening his eyes and staring straight at her.

‘How did you know?’ she asked, angry and puzzled and afraid of his power.

‘I know everything about you. We are as alike as two peas in a pod. Soul mates.’

‘I’m not. I hate you, hate you, hate you!’