The Pirate's Desire (13 page)

“You already hate me.” Riel stepped closer.

Lucinda trembled. “No. Don’t do it.”

“Then behave like the civilized young woman your father believed you to be. He was proud of you, Lucy.”

Her father had boasted of her to Riel? Her breaths came faster…agitated, confused and frightened.

What would her beloved father think of her now?

It wasn’t hard to guess. He would be shocked and dismayed by her behavior. Instead of welcoming his friend into their home, she had deliberately provoked Riel. Instead of loving and respecting her father, she had ignored and rebelled against his last wishes. All to save Ravensbrook; but, if she were brutally honest, also to selfishly save herself, and her freedom and independence. Her father, without a doubt, would be deeply disappointed in her right now.

But, she quickly reminded her faltering resolve, her father had not known about Riel’s secrets, nor his self-serving, greedy plot. For Ravensbrook, and for her father, she
must
retain her courage. She stiffened her spine.

“Tell me then,” she said in a low, controlled hiss. “Should I trust my home to a man who plans to
steal
from it?”

“What?” His frown flashed like hot lightning.

“I know the truth, Mr. Montclair. I heard you tell your henchman that you will come into new cash at the end of this week. Cash to pay your crew. Cash that you plan to steal from Ravensbrook!”

Shock darkened his face. “I would
never
steal from Commodore Hastings. After what he’s done for me… Never! How could you think such a thing?”

“
How?
You refuse to admit your secrets. You behave like a brutish pirate. You are a privateer. What else am I to think?” Her temper soared. “Truly, with all of these facts at my disposal, what
am
I to think?”

“You trust your father’s judgment so little?”

“I trust his tender, trusting heart too
much
.”

“I have told you before. I am no thief.”

“Tell me, Mr. Montclair, what will you do with Ravensbrook’s money?”

“What money?”

She gasped at his sheer bravado. “Truly? Mr. Chase will give it to you tomorrow.”

“No. He will keep it. I told him that last night. He will continue to manage Ravensbrook until I return from my voyage. As to the money I’m expecting, a buyer owes me payment for a shipment. I will pay my crew with that money.”

Flustered, Lucinda said nothing.

His words rang with truth. She’d been wrong, then. At least about that one issue. That relieved her, to a small degree. However, the hard tension in the lines of his body still frightened her. He had threatened moments ago to swat her. By the look of it, he was still angry enough to carry through on that threat.

He growled, “I understand that you want to protect Ravensbrook, Lucy.” A bit more gently, he finished, “You are a strong young woman, just as Peter said. He loved you very much, and was proud of you.”

“Truly?”

Suddenly, it was all too much. Lucinda put a hand to her face. If she did not need to protect Ravensbrook from Riel, then her reasons to want him gone were purely selfish. Why put herself in harm’s way for such a selfish goal? Although this reasoning did not make his impending guardianship more palatable, still, what choice did she have?

Something inside Lucinda crumpled. She felt so distressed, weary and heartsick. And the last thing she wanted was to be a disappointment to her father, or to further deny his wishes. “He told you he was proud of me?”

“At every opportunity.”

With that one last pin prick, her determination to oust him from Ravensbrook deflated. How had Riel known just the thing to say? It frustrated her beyond measure. She lowered her eyes.

“Lucy, is this the end of it?”

Lucy. By one question he demanded two things—the right to call her Lucy, and capitulation on her part to stop creating trouble. To accept his guardianship and rule over Ravensbrook for the next two years.

Every part of Lucinda hated the idea of submitting to him, but what other choice did she have? Did she want to shame her father? Did she want Riel to beat her? No. The horror of this last idea shuddered through her. So, in truth, she had lost. He would not leave, not ever, for he was more hard-headed than she was.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, to accept that he had won. Tears welled in her eyes. “Obey you, or receive a beating? Those are my choices?”

“I have not laid a hand on you, Lucinda.”

“But you will!” she flared. “Isn’t that what you’re threatening? To beat me into submission?” Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Lucy…” The note in his voice changed, but she would listen no further.

“Fine, you great brute! But know your pretense of civility doesn’t fool me. You are a barbaric pirate, and
never
will I believe anything different. Yes, I will follow your rules. But steer clear of me in the future, Mr. Montclair. Your very presence sickens me!” To her dismay, a tormented sob escaped, and she pressed her hands to her face. “Go! Go at once. I never wish to see you again!”

After a small hesitation, she heard a whisper of movement and then the latch clicked as the door opened. Another moment of silence passed, as if he stood in the doorway, contemplating speaking to her, and then the door softly closed.

With a sob, Lucinda flung herself on her bed. She wept stormily. She couldn’t bear to think about her
future
. What was more, she hated herself, and she hated him. Her fists curled tightly into the quilt, her body trembling from the agonizing defeat.

* * * * *

Riel heard the wretched sobs through the closed door and felt like a villain. True, for one split second he had felt the overwhelming urge to turn her over his knee and give her one hard swat.

Never.

He had sworn he’d never allow fury to rule him again. Long ago, he’d almost forfeited his life by reacting like a hot-headed fool. A man had died. By rights, Riel should have swung from a noose.

Never again.

The scene in Lucy’s bedchamber seared his mind. He shouldn’t have been in there in the first place. But when Riel had seen her gallop off into the night with that backward, gleeful look at the house, something inside him had snapped. Instead of chasing after her, he’d sat in her room, waiting for his anger to cool down. It had. In fact, he’d even remembered to go downstairs and turn out the light in the study. But just now, when she had taunted him, blatantly mocking his authority in her life, a cold fury had swept through him. On his ship, no one would dare treat him in such a manner.

Was cold fury better than hot? Probably not. Not when he remembered what came next.

He had pretty much threatened her bodily violence; even if it was only a swat. Self-disgust gripped Riel, making him feel sick. He should knock on her door right now and apologize.

Still, she had behaved like a belligerent adolescent ever since they’d first met.

It didn’t matter. She was his friend’s daughter. He should have been more patient.

Lucinda could try the patience of a saint.

Riel tried to remind himself that he had
not
raised a hand to her. Above all things, he had kept his self-control. A victory over the young man he’d once been.

But none of those facts quieted his conscience. He had all but threatened her. Shouldn’t he apologize?

His curled fist hesitated a quarter of an inch from her door.

Lucy had finally agreed to behave herself. She had agreed to stop testing him at every turn. It wasn’t so much himself that Riel was worried about, but his great-aunt. If Lucy acted like a willful hoyden while he was gone, it might send his frail aunt over the edge. She could collapse—or worse, the stress could fatally weaken her heart and she could die.

Riel lowered the fist he had raised. No. Lucy had promised to behave now. If he apologized, she might take it as a sign of weakness. Then the battle would begin afresh.

Finally, she had given him a measure of her respect. Yes, inspired by fear. And while he did not want Lucy to fear him, perhaps this was the only way it could be—for now. He hoped it might be the first step to build a better relationship. First, mutual respect, and then, someday, perhaps trust and friendship.

He remembered when he’d been a new recruit on the Barbary ship. He had received many a lashing, but the selfish child had been quickly scourged from him. He’d grown up fast.

Riel would never lay a finger on Lucinda, but if it took an unspoken threat to make her toe the line while he was gone, so be it. He would not allow his great-aunt’s health to be endangered.

Lucinda wasn’t a child anymore, and it was time she grew up.

“Miss?”
A loud
rap
sounded on the door.

Lucinda moaned, and buried her head further under the covers, blocking out the unwelcome daylight, and the rude pounding upon her door. She had barely slept, and was exhausted.

“Miss!” Effie’s voice came again.

Lucinda flung back the covers. “It is barely daylight,” she cried out. Flopping back, she smashed the pillow over her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and searched for a comforting tendril of sleep, but all had fled. Last night’s events stormed in like a flood. Her defeat. Her humiliation.

Her plan had failed. None of it had turned out the way she had hoped. True, Riel had barbarically threatened her, when she’d pushed him beyond endurance. But he had not snapped. It spoke to his character—the character her father had seen in him. She had been wrong about his plans to steal from Ravensbrook, too. That was a relief, although he still hid secrets from both herself and the Royal Navy. Did it matter? She could do little about any of it.

Now he would wield a scepter of authority over Ravensbrook and her life for two years. While in her heart she still didn’t want a guardian, it was time to accept her father’s wishes with grace. To make him proud of her.

Depression licked at her spirit. Why get up? Riel didn’t need her presence at the solicitor’s in order to sign his dastardly papers.

His barbaric threats returned to mind. She had never seen Riel behave with anything but complete control. Part of her didn’t think he would have carried through with his threat to swat her last night. The other half remembered the dangerous glint in his black eyes, and wasn’t so sure.

Perhaps she should go to the solicitor, like he’d requested.

Lucinda pushed the pillow from her face. Ever more depressed, she muttered, “Come in.”

Effie rushed in, wearing a relieved look. She carried fresh water and a towel. “It is seven-fifteen, Lady Lucinda. Lord Iveny has ordered his carriage brought ’round. He asked that you arrive within twenty minutes.”

Barely time to dress, and certainly no time to eat.

“I am sorry, miss. I tried to wake you earlier, but could not.” Worry rounded Effie’s green eyes.

Lucinda managed a smile. “It’s not your fault. I’ll wear my hair in a simple style today.”

Whom had she to impress? She felt like she was about to ride to the guillotine.

With barely a minute to spare, Lucinda reached the main hall. Riel stood waiting, his hands clasped behind him. Today he wore a superfine dark blue jacket, a white linen shirt, sans cravat, as usual, and fawn breeches. Each item met the height of fashion, but somehow those fine clothes could not mask the rawness of the man beneath. A civilized veneer, as she’d accused last night. And beneath, a barbaric pirate. At heart, he must be one. His behavior last night had conclusively proven it. Although he had not snapped, he was clearly a dangerous, ruthless man.

His black hair looked wet, as if freshly washed, and was of course bound in its usual tail. Lucinda couldn’t mask her faint frown. “I am here, my lord.”

His dark eyes found hers and a flash of what—uncertainty? regret?—glimmered. He bowed slightly. “After you.”

Wilson opened the door, and Lucinda descended to the carriage, her head held high and shoulders squared. She would do what she must. Father had wished it. It was the only thought that made palatable this carriage ride to end her freedom.

Riel entered the carriage after her. A small jerk, and they were off. Lucinda looked out the window so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“You are angry with me.” His deep voice was quiet.

“I would rather not speak, if you don’t mind, my lord.”

More silence elapsed.

“I will leave for London directly after signing the papers. I should be back in a few months.”

Colorlessly, she returned, “As you say,” and continued studying the countryside.

“Lucy…” She stiffened, and he said no more.

The rest of the carriage ride to Mr. Chase’s house transpired in silence. At least Lucinda had achieved that small victory. She would be polite to Riel, but he could not make her speak. If he wished for a conversation, he could speak to himself.

Mr. Chase greeted them with cheerful enthusiasm. “All is well, this fine morning?” he asked brightly.

Lucinda said nothing. Riel spoke instead. “It feels warm already.”

Lucinda took the chair offered, and twisted her fingers in her lap as Mr. Chase pulled a thick folder from a drawer. “After a few signatures, you can be on your way, Lord Iveny,” he said with a jolly smile.

Lucinda directed a hard, unhappy look at Mr. Chase. Could he not see how miserable she was? Did he not see that he was joyfully allowing a pirate to gain control of his old friend’s estate?

Father,
she thought silently.
Why did you do this to me? Now it will never be undone.
Riel would dictate her life, rule her future, and even approve—and therefore actually
choose
—the man she would marry. Her entire life looked bleak and dark. Starting now, to forevermore. She bit the inside of her lip.

In helpless frustration, she watched Riel sign his name to endless reams of paper. When Mr. Chase asked for her own signature on a few papers, she blindly signed them, not knowing what they were about. Legal gibberish, she was sure. All consigning her to a future of the darkest hell. Perhaps she was being a bit melodramatic here, as Mrs. Beatty had often chastised in the past, but at that moment, to Lucinda, it seemed like the darkest truth.

“That’s it, then.” Beaming, Mr. Chase shook Riel’s hand and bowed over her own. “If you have any questions, I am here, but I’m sure all will run smoothly.”

He
hoped
it would, Lucinda thought darkly.

Riel walked beside her to the carriage. “Thank you for signing without a fuss.”

She flashed him a hot, feral glare. He actually flinched in surprise. “You have won, Mr. Montclair. Must you rub my nose in it?”

He followed her into the carriage. She averted her gaze to the window once more.

“Lucy.”

She gritted her teeth.

“Please look at me, Lucy.”

She turned, the movement stiff, eyes glacial. “What do you want of me now, my lord?”

He held her gaze for a long moment, as if searching for the right words. At last, “It is good I am leaving. When I come back, perhaps we can make a fresh start.”

Lucinda looked away. Hopelessness slid through her, and she involuntarily swallowed. “I do not know why you wish for that.”

“I want an amicable relationship between us.”

“You may wish for the moon and the stars, Mr. Montclair, but they will be denied you.”

He said no more. The journey to Ravensbrook had never lasted longer.

Once home, Riel lifted his bag into the carriage and he gave Sophie a warm hug and kiss goodbye. “I will be back soon,” he promised. “Do not exert yourself.”

“Don’t worry, my boy.” Sophie affectionately touched his cheek. “I will be here when you return.”

Riel’s dark eyes found Lucinda’s. To her surprise, he took her hand and bowed over it. “Lady Lucinda. Until we meet again.” For one short, alarming moment, the warm, rough texture of his fingers scorched into her flesh and imprinted upon her mind. The next moment, he climbed aboard his carriage.

A flick of the reins and the carriage rolled down the drive. Heart beating unnaturally fast, Lucinda clasped her tingling hand close. Why did everything about that man burrow under her skin like a splinter? Why was she watching him go?

Goodbye and good riddance. Isn’t that what she should be thinking?

Sophie’s hand touched her arm. “Come inside, child.” She gave Lucinda a warm smile. “Shall we have some tea?”

* * * * *

Fall, 1812

Three weeks stretched into three months, and then more. Riel’s duties with the Royal Navy prevented him from returning home, and Lucinda was glad, except for one thing—Sophie longed to see her great-nephew. Daily, she expressed hope that he was all right. Sophie tried to hide it, but her worry increased with each day that passed with no word from Riel. Lucinda wished Riel would write his aunt a letter.

July and August passed quickly, and Lucinda and Sophie grew to be close friends. Lucinda loved spending each morning on the terrace with Sophie, talking about every topic under the sun. The older woman seemed like the grandmother she had always longed for. Lucinda’s had passed away long ago.

Sophie often reminisced about her gardens at home. Ravensbrook’s plot was small and ill-attended. Lucinda’s mother had lavished love upon it when she was alive, but it had been minimally tended over the last thirteen years. When Sophie rhapsodized about the different flowers in her extensive garden at Iveny, Lucinda suggested renovating the garden at Ravensbrook. Of course, by then it was late July, but with the help of the gardener, they selected and planted a few flowers that would grow well into the fall. They planted beautiful beds of flowers in Lucinda’s mother’s old garden, as well as about Ravensbrook’s front steps. The beautiful blooms cheerfully welcomed all who came to visit.

They planted the purple-belled foxglove, too, for one day Sophie let it slip that the leaves she stirred into her tea were from that plant. It was a remedy discovered and championed by the late Doctor William Withering of Birmingham General Hospital. It was believed to help those with heart problems. Sophie said her own doctor had pooh poohed it, but Sophie felt certain it was one of the reasons why she had cheated death for the last eight years.

Lucinda and Sophie were enjoying the lingering fruits of their labor when Riel’s first and only letter came. It was a cool, mid-September day, but Lucinda and Sophie sat on the terrace drinking pink lemonade and exclaiming over the hardy little flowers that still bloomed now, early into the chilly fall.

“Madame, a letter.” Wilson bowed over the parchment for Sophie.

“Why…” Sophie glanced up in surprise and her blue eyes twinkled with delight. “Whoever could it be from?” Wilson bowed again, and retreated.

Lucinda smiled, for Sophie often received letters from Iveny. Most were from old friends, wondering when she would come home. She was sorely missed at tea parties and all social events. Lucinda wasn’t surprised, for in three short months she had grown to dearly love the older lady. Sophie was fun, ever positive, and imparted occasional pearls of wisdom that Lucinda pondered while going about her other duties.

Sophie turned over the letter and saw the wax seal. She went very still, and then pink suffused her wrinkled old cheeks. “Riel!” Hastily, she slit it open and began to read. The packet consis
ted of several sheets of paper
.

Lucinda watched, feeling emotions she couldn’t name. Was Riel returning to Ravensbrook? With Mr. Chase’s help, she had just begun to manage the petty cash, and she wanted to learn more. She wanted to prove to both herself and Riel that she could run Ravensbrook just fine on her own. When he returned, would he strip that job from her?

Sophie
rapidly scanned the parchment, and then the hope in her eyes dimmed and her shoulders slumped. “He can’t return home yet. The Navy has ordered him on another mission. Dangerous, no doubt, for he says nothing about it.” Sophie turned the page over, but it was blank. She sighed. “That boy.”

“So, no word when he will return?” Lucinda asked with cautious hope.

“You may read it.” Sophie offered it to her.

Lucinda eyed the dark, bold handwriting and quickly shook her head. “No. Thank you.”

Sophie carefully folded the letter, and fixed Lucinda with a sharp look. “We’ve never spoken of it, for I felt it was none of my business. But will you tell me what happened between you and my nephew before he left?”

Lucinda looked away for a moment. How could she tell her friend—and Riel’s great-aunt—that she and Riel didn’t get along? “Riel and I don’t see eye to eye.”

Sophie waited patiently.

“He swept in from nowhere, with letters from Father that he was to take over my life, be my guardian, take care of Ravensbrook’s finances. Everything. It was a shock, and I was grieving, and I’ll admit I didn’t respond well at first. And then…”

“And then the shock wore off, and you still didn’t want him to rule your life?”

“Yes. If you knew…if you knew the things I believed about him, and how I behaved. Not to mention the things I did to try to drive him away…” Lucinda sighed. “I’m embarrassed to tell you.”

“Then don’t. Can you put it behind you?”

“I’ve accepted that Riel will be my guardian.” After he’d threatened her into submission. That old irritation simmered, but she tried to dismiss it. She hadn’t been entirely blameless in the incident, after all. “I want to control my own destiny, Sophie. I want to choose my husband, but Riel has ultimate veto over that. Honestly, I don’t like it. I can make my own choices. Good choices. Unfortunately, I know he won’t agree with me. We’re just different people, Aunt Sophie.”

Sophie sat silently for a moment. “Riel is a reasonable man, Lucinda. If you fall in love with a young man you’ve met at a Season, I’m sure Riel will agree to the match. Just tell him how you feel.”

“Every time we talk, we end up fighting.”

“It’s good he’s been gone, then, so you two could cool off. Perhaps you can start afresh when he returns.”

Lucinda looked away. “That’s what he said before he left. The problem is, I don’t think we’ll ever get along. He’s like a splinter under my skin. I want to work him out, but he won’t budge.”

Sophie smiled. “He is strong-minded.”

“That’s an understatement,” she muttered.

“So are you, if I may be so bold to say so,” the older lady said. “Butting heads is not a bad thing. My beloved Charles and I did it all the time. What is important is treating each other with respect. It sounds to me like you might have behaved imprudently when Riel was here last.”