Authors: Connie Mason
Alexa sighed, exasperation clearly etched on her mobile features. “But do you know who he is?”
“Of course,” admitted the young man, shrugging. “He’s a Colonial come to collect his inheritance. Seems that his uncle, some earl or other, died, leaving some obscure holdings in Cornwall. Thank God he’s not one of those rabble-rousers from the Colonies who are fighting for Lord only knows what. Penwell, that’s it, the Earl of Penwell. He’s here at your father’s invitation, no doubt.”
“No doubt,” echoed Alexa, wondering at the man’s thinly veiled animosity. She didn’t even know the man, so why should he hate her? she wondered nervously.
“It’s damn hot in here, let’s go outside,” suggested Charles suddenly, running a finger under his tight collar. “Besides, I haven’t had a minute alone with you in days.”
Nodding distractedly, Alexa allowed Charles to lead her from the crowded room through the tall French doors and out into the soft June night. She smiled wryly as he staggered tipsily before righting himself.
Alexa followed meekly as Charles led her to a deserted corner of the vast gardens of her father’s country estate outside London, unaware that a tall, somberly-clad man followed at a discreet distance. When they came upon the deserted summerhouse Charles hesitated but a moment, then drew her inside The revelry of the party seemed far away as Alexa settled herself beside Charles on one of the cushion-strewn couches placed strategically about the cozy room.
The silence between them grew as Charles gathered his courage, prompting Alexa to fill the void by remarking idly. “Did you hear the talk tonight about the Fox and all the trouble his ship,
The Gray Ghost
, is giving our navy?”
“That’s all I did hear,” snorted Charles, moving closer to Alexa. “That damn Colonial is causing all sorts of mayhem. He’s credited with sinking six vessels in the last two months. He’s as wily and cunning as the animal he’s named after. He comes out of nowhere and strikes swiftly, disappearing to Lord knows where. Some even believe him to be a ghost because he seems to evaporate into thin air.”
“Have you ever seen his ship?” asked Alexa, warming to the subject.
“Once. From a distance. Our ship,
The Gallant
, gave chase, but it was as if the sea swallowed him. I’d give anything to be the one to blow him and his pirates out of the water.”
“Is he? A pirate, I mean.”
“He’s a privateer, same thing. Those damn rebels don’t know when to quit. They sail under legal sanction of their government and are becoming more bothersome as the war progresses. It’s said that more than two thousand armed privateers ply the seas carrying more than 18,000 guns and 70.000 men. How those ignorant Colonials could organize to such an extent remains a mystery.”
“Do they have a chance of winning?” asked Alexa, feeling a surprising empathy for the people who fought so bravely and tenaciously for their freedom.
“None whatsoever,” assured Charles confidently. “Our navy is the strongest in the world and our soldiers the best trained. No one is capable of defeating us.”
Alexa slowly digested the facts Charles had just imparted. For some obscure reason she felt almost
sorry for the fledgling country across the ocean struggling for independence. She had always prized her own independence, exercising her mind freely, and she could well understand America’s valiant struggle. Since her mother’s sudden death fifteen years ago her father had allowed her free reign, leaving her to make her own decisions. Should her freedom be curtailed, she too would rebel against those unfair restrictions.
So engrossed was Alexa in her own thoughts that she failed to notice when Charles lightly fingered the fastenings marching down the back of her gown until the cool night air fanned her bare skin.
“Charles, what are you doing?” she asked, shocked by the actions of a man she had always considered mild-mannered and rather shy. But of course she had never seen him drunk before.
“We are engaged, Alexa,” pouted Charles childishly. “You know I must leave tomorrow for sea duty, thanks to the Fox, and I won’t be back until a few days before our wedding. What will it hurt if we consummate our marriage early? Others do it. I want you, Alexa. I need you.”
Not waiting for her reply, Charles literally pounced on her, his clumsy kisses and thick, fumbling fingers revolting her. Many times of late she had fantasized about sharing intimacies with Charles once they were married but it was never anything like this.
“Charles, behave,” she scolded, becoming alarmed when her pleas did little to cool his increasing ardor. “You know we can’t … we can’t … do what you suggest. It isn’t right. Besides, you’re drunk. Now take your hands off me!”
Thoroughly incensed by the sight of milk-white breasts partially bared when he attempted to pull down her bodice, Charles became a madman with but one purpose—to possess Alexa. Nothing she could say or do
had the slightest impact upon his alcohol-soaked brain.
Alexa heard her fragile ballgown rip as she resisted Charles’s advances, determined to fight him tooth and nail. Her long fingernails found his face and he cursed roundly as she dug bloody grooves down his cheeks.
“Whatsa matter, honey?” Charles asked petutantly, slurring his words. “I won’t hurt you. If you loved me you’d let me. Just lay back and relax.”
Drunk as he was Alexa was no match for his superior strength and against her will she found herself flat on her back with Charles sprawled atop her. His slobbering kisses fell on her bared breasts as he eased her skirts above her thighs. His own heavy limbs prevented her from kicking out, struggling against the indignity he was forcing upon her. How could she have ever thought she loved him? Alexa wondered, astonished by her response, or rather lack of response, to her husband-to-be.
Her screams were trapped in her throat as his mouth plundered hers, whispering obscenities against her lips. “I’ve dreamed about this, Alexa,” he moaned. “It will be so good, you’ll love it just like I will. Your breasts feel so silky, so do your thighs. I’m so hot for you. Open up, honey, before I explode.”
At that moment Alexa felt as if she had never really known Charles although they had been friends for years. Can it be he had a completely different personality he kept hidden from her? She gagged when he forced his tongue between her lips and managed a hoarse scream when his fingers invaded her secret place that until now had been sacrosanct. Charles mistook her scream and writhing for rising passion.
“That’s it, honey, move,” he grunted as he prepared to mount her. “I knew you’d like it. Soon we’ll be man and wife and can do this as often as we like.”
The thought sobered Alexa as she prepared herself
for his violation. Surely this isn’t the way it’s meant to be, she silently lamented. So much for romance! Cringing inwardly she felt something moist and hard probing between her thighs. Then suddenly the weight was gone from her body and she drew in a long, shuddering breath.
“Are you all right. Lady Alexa?” a deep voice asked.
Abruptly Alexa sat up, squinting in the moonlight as she tried to identify the figure framed in the doorway. There was no mistaking those broad shoulders and muscular thighs encased in dull silver. Although they hadn’t been properly introduced she spoke his name easily.
“Lord Penwell! What … what are you doing here?”
“Saving a damsel in distress,” he quipped arrogantly. “Or did I make a mistake?”
“No … no mistake. I’m … I’m afraid Charles has had too much to drink and … and … well … how embarrassing,” she stammered, blushing in the darkness.
“No need to explain, milady. I have two good eyes, as well as two good ears. I knew what your fiance was doing and I can’t say I blame him.”
Eyes like two shards of ice reflected in the moonglow, fixed on Alexa’s full breasts almost completely exposed, and then fell to her slim legs and shapely thighs. Immediately Alexa’s hands flew to set her clothing right and she turned her back on Adam as she covered her breasts as best she could with the torn edges of her bodice and smoothed her skirts down over her hips and thighs.
Suddenly a loud groan drew both their attention as Charles picked himself rather painfully off the floor where Adam had unceremoniously tossed him.
“Wha … what happened?” he asked, dazed. For the first time he saw Adam and grew indignant when he
realized what had happened. “How dare you interfere!” he snapped peevishly. “My fiancée and I were having a private conversation. You owe us an apology, Lord Penwell.”
“From where I stood it looked as if you were attempting more than mere conversation,” said Adam suggestively. “When the lady protested I felt obliged to step in.”
“You Colonials presume too much,” Charles protested violently. “You don’t belong in polite society, you’re no better than savages!”
A taut smile twisted Adam’s mouth as Alexa watched the two men warily. She felt certain something dreadful would happen if she did not intervene. But what could she do?
“Charles, please,” Alexa pleaded, “I don’t want any trouble. Lord Penwell did what he thought best under the circumstances. I’m certain you’ll feel differently in the morning.”
With the mention of morning Charles grew livid with rage. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten that I’ll be gone in the morning, Alexa, and this was our last chance to … er … talk privately before I sailed. I am your fiance, after all. What business has this Colonial to butt in where he’s not wanted. I have a good notion to teach him a lesson.”
Heedless of his drunken state, or perhaps due to it. Charles launched himself full tilt at the unsuspecting Adam, only to be neatly sidestepped by the quick-thinking new lord. Not to be thwarted. Charles roused himself for another attack, but this time he met the solid front of a doubled fist as Adam’s natural reflexes required that he defend himself. Charles hit the floor like a sack of potatoes as Adam rubbed his knuckles thoughtfully.
Alexa was stunned. From the moment she walked out the French doors with Charles things had happened so
swiftly that she could do little more than stand and gape at the inert form of her fiance.
“You’ve killed him!” she gasped, finally finding her voice.
“No such luck,” sneered Adam scathingly. “Your young popinjay will recover to take to the sea tomorrow.”
“You didn’t have to hit him so hard,” she accused.
“I could have just gone away and let him assault you,” Adam challenged cynically.
“I’d better go back to the house and get some help,” Alexa said, ignoring Adam’s gibe.
“Looking like that?” Adam asked, cocking one well-shaped brow suggestively. “That ought to cause quite a stir.”
Glancing down at her tattered and rumpled gown, Alexa realized that Adam spoke the truth. Somehow she’d have to sneak up to her room and send word down to her father that she’d developed a sudden headache.
“I can sneak up to my room through the back entrance, but what about Charles?” Alexa asked. “We just can’t leave him lying there.”
Had Alexa looked into Adam’s eyes at that exact moment she would have run for her life. An unnatural light glowed from those silver orbs and he smiled as if destiny was about to be fulfilled. “I’ll have my friend see him safely to his ship. By tomorrow he’ll be so busy looking for the Fox that he’ll forget everything that happened tonight. I’ve a good notion he’s too drunk to remember anyway.”
“I … I don’t know,” hedged Alexa, sitting on the horns of dilemma. “Shouldn’t we tell someone?”
“Do you want it bandied about by the scandalmongers that your fiance got drunk and assaulted you? That he was knocked cold by an earl of little account? It’s entirely up to you, milady.”
“No … no,” protested Alexa, picturing in her mind the embarrassment she would endure by returning to the ballroom practically naked. “Your way is much more discreet. I’ll … I’ll make it up to Charles when he returns. He would have never acted so rashly had he not been in his cups.”
“You show good sense, milady,” mocked Adam. “Wait here while I summon my friend. Then I’ll see you to the back entrance.” He slipped out the door so silently Alexa had to look twice to make sure he was gone.
Sighly heavily, Alexa sat down, trying to puzzle out just where the evening went awry. One moment she was laughing and dancing with her dashing fiance and the next she was fighting off a drunken rapist she barely knew. And how did it happen that Lord Penwell should show up at so crucial a moment? It wasn’t as if the summerhouse was in a likely place for a stranger to be casually strolling by. That’s why Charles chose it. Something here didn’t quite mesh but for the life of her Alexa couldn’t figure it out.
In a surprisingly short time Adam returned with the redheaded man she had seen him conversing with in the ballroom. “Lady Alexa, may I present my friend, Logan MacHugh? Everyone calls him Mac. He graciously agreed to take your … uh … fiance safely back to his ship.”
Alexa thought Mac looked slightly dubious but put it down to the unusual circumstances. Embarrassed by her dishevelled appearance, Alexa said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Mac, and I’m grateful for your help.”
Mac shot Adam a scathing glance before replying. “Anything to help a damsel in distress, milady. I only hope you won’t come to hate me for this.”
Misunderstanding his meaning, Alexa smiled gratefully. “How could I? You’ve but come to the aid of
a friend and in so doing helped solve my dilemma. My fiance has imbibed too freely and it is best for all concerned that he is returned to his ship before his actions cause a scandal.”
“I’ll look after him well, milady,” promised Mac. “He’ll soon be safely in his bunk sleeping it off.”
With surprising ease Mac hefted Charles’s limp body over his shoulder and left the summerhouse, soon disappearing into the dark shadows. Now all Alexa had to think about was getting up to her room without being seen and sending a maid to inform her father of her indisposition. She looked to Adam expectantly.
“I think we’d better leave,” she suggested, peering anxiously into the darkness. “Someone might take a notion to come out here.”
For the first time since he had unexpectedly shown up inside the summerhouse, Adam slowly approached Alexa until he stood within inches of her slim form, his warm breath caressing her cheek. Against his better judgment he drew her close until their bodies touched, her ripe breasts pressed intimately against his gray jacket, their lips inches apart. Mesmerized, Alexa felt certain he would kiss her and for some unexplained reason her heart beat faster in anticipation.