The Pirate's Desire (29 page)

“Say it now,” he whispered. “Or I will make you scream it later.”

She felt his hands upon her, and it was more than she could bear. “No.
No!
Riel!” she sobbed out. “
Riel…
”

* * * * *

Panic thrummed through Riel, but with methodical swiftness he searched Lucy’s room, looking for any clue pointing to where she might have gone.

Nothing. Except a valise had vanished, as had several of her new dresses.

He shoved a despairing fist at his head. “Lucy!” he growled. Terror clawed at his heart. “Where are you?”

He ran downstairs and called for his carriage. George, sleepy though he was, quickly saw to it. Outside, clouds obscured the full moon. The dusky night felt ominous and still. Riel gave the driver instructions. They couldn’t have gone far. At least, Riel prayed they hadn’t gone far. During the short ride, he prayed to God that he’d find them before it was too late.

When the carriage slowed, Riel sprang out and sprinted up the steps to the Warrington mansion. With a heavy fist, he pounded upon it. “Open up now!” he roared. “Be quick about it!”

A butler eventually peered out. A disdainful frown wrinkled his brow. “Here now, sir. It’s the middle of the night. If you would be so good to return tomorrow…”

Riel put a shoulder to the door and shoved his way inside.

“Here, now!” the man bleated. “Come back at once, sir!”

But Riel sprinted up the stairs. He’d been here once before, and had a good guess where Jonathon’s rooms might be. He burst inside. Empty. He ran to the dressing room and washing room. All neat as a pin and empty. Swiftly, he checked the table top. No notes. Nothing. Frustrated, he sent a final glance around the room, and then barreled past the butler and a footman, who had just reached the master suite.

“I sent for the constable!” the butler exclaimed in a querulous voice. “You will pay for your misdeed.”

Riel lunged down the stairs and burst into Jonathon’s library. A clue must be here, somewhere. Quickly, he pawed through the papers on the desk and in the drawers. A paper poked up out of the trash bin, and he snatched it out. Times were written on it; as if Jonathon had figured out to the minute the best time to snatch Lucinda. Two hours ago, by the look of it. And he’d scrawled the name of an inn. The Drury Inn, on the outskirts of London. And the name of a church and time for tomorrow.

Crumpling it in his fist, he elbowed past the butler and footman again and tore for his carriage. Two hours had passed. Was he too late? He roared instructions to the driver.

Would he make it in time? Anguish tormented Riel, as scene after scene of what Jonathon might be doing to Lucy flashed through his mind. He had no proof the Duke was the Silk Scarf Rapist. But his heart told him that Lucy was in grave danger. Had he failed a woman for the second time in his life? Riel could not bear the thought.
Please God, not Lucy. Please, no!

Many long, excruciating minutes crept by as his team galloped through London. With every passing moment, tension coiled around Riel’s heart like a tight watch spring. Anger and fear churned in him. Images from long ago tortured his mind. Images that, if he was right, could be happening again right now. Finally, the carriage slowed.

Riel hurtled out of the carriage before it stopped moving. A burly man stood at the inn’s door, closing up, but Riel shoved his way inside. “Tell me the room number of a recent arrival. A man and woman,” he commanded. “The woman has blond hair.”

The bald man’s beady eyes narrowed. He whipped out a knife. “You’d best be on your way, mister.”

“She has been abducted!” Riel said through his teeth. “I am her guardian.”

“As I said,” the man lifted his knife. “Ye’d best be on your way.”

Riel’s fist shot into man’s throat. With a gurgle, the innkeeper sank to the floor. Without a backward glance, Riel headed for the desk. Which keys were gone? Half of them, it looked like. He’d have to pound on all the doors.

Riel took the stairs three at a time, and at the top he hesitated, feeling faintly dizzy. It all seemed like a sick dream. It was just like before, except there were no screaming women. No open door. Lucy. Where was she?

And then he heard a blood curdling scream.

Lucy!
Heart pumping, he charged down the hall. Again he heard a cry, and this time he knew it was Lucy, for she cried out his name. A wealth of terror rang in every syllable. Riel hit the door with his shoulder and it splintered like matchsticks.

He saw Lucy on the bed with that maggot, Warrington on top of her.

Fury tore through Riel…so intense he momentarily lost all rational thought. He had no recollection of crossing the room. Only of snatching the snake off of Lucy. A red haze enveloped his mind, and he punched Jonathon’s surprised face as hard as he could. He saw another, nearly identical face. It belonged to a dead man.

Riel slugged Jonathon again, and blood spurted from his nose. And again and again, he hit him. Jonathon made one attempt to rally and punch back, but Riel’s years on the high seas, straining with sheets and the tasks of sailing a ship, endowed him with a strength the other man had no hope to match. Four more punches, and Jonathon collapsed on the bed, unconscious. Riel wanted to keep hitting him. To obliterate the scum who had hurt Lucy…who had hurt Pen.

Breathing hard, he staggered back a step. No. He could not. He would not kill another man.

“Riel,” a tiny voice whimpered. Lucy. At last he focused upon her and then collapsed on his knees beside her.

Lucy stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes. Her wrists were tied to the post, and her ripped, thin cotton night rail was bunched about her knees. Tears filled her eyes and slipped down her face. “Riel, I knew you would come.”

With a groan of anguish, he made short work of releasing her wrists. “Lucy.” He groaned again and pulled her to him. “Lucy,” he whispered in her hair, and then held her tight. No other words were needed.

* * * * *

Lucinda clung to Riel and wept. He had saved her from Jonathon.

The last minute replayed through her mind in slow motion. Again, she experienced the relief that had swept through her when Riel bashed down the door. And then fear of another kind drove into her heart, for a feral snarl contorted Riel’s face, making him look like a savage beast. He’d ripped Jonathon off of her and pounded hard, heavy blows into his face. Cartilage crunched as Riel smashed Jonathon’s nose, and still his flying fists did not abate. In that moment, Lucinda knew Riel could easily kill Jonathon with his bare knuckles. For moments, she had actually feared for the Duke’s life.

But Riel staggered back when Jonathon fell back on the bed, unconscious. The mindless fury eased from his face, and Riel’s gaze fell on her. The next moment, he crumpled beside her and pulled her into his arms.
Riel.
Her protector. She felt safe in his arms.

And she still, foolishly, loved him. She loved a murderer!

Lucinda wept harder. But wasn’t Riel a different man now? An honorable one.

Right now, for this one moment in his arms, none of that mattered. She held him tighter, and felt his raw strength as his heart pounded against hers. He buried his face in her hair, and she felt his warm breath on her neck.

This was where she wanted to remain. With Riel, forever. She loved him.

She loved him with her whole heart. Lucinda gasped out another sob and pressed her cheek into his neck. His rough whiskers gently scraped against her skin.

She loved him. She loved this man, who had driven her mad from the start and whom she’d pushed away for two long years.

And yet she’d almost given her life to another.

Horror trickled in. What a fool she’d been, running away with Jonathon! Impulsiveness had nearly killed her. And all because she couldn’t face loving Riel, and knowing she couldn’t have him.

Maybe it
would
be torture for Riel to remain in her life for a while longer, but she shouldn’t have run from him, or her feelings, either.

More tears slipped down her cheeks. Tears of despair…and of relief, for right now she was exactly where she wanted to be. In Riel’s arms .

“Lucy.” His low voice rasped. Riel pulled back, and his dark eyes looked tortured. “Lucy, are you all right?”

Gulping, she gave a quick nod.

“He didn’t…he didn’t…” he said roughly.

“No.”

“Thank God.” Relief eased his features, and he held her tightly and securely in his arms, as if unwilling to let her go.

A groan behind them made Lucinda jerk around. “Riel!” Terror struck to her soul. “He’s waking up!”

Riel’s features contorted into a dangerous scowl. “We’d better find a way to restrain him. Besides my fists.”

Lucinda leaped up. “He has a rope in his bag.”

“Leave that for evidence. I’ll use a sheet.”

Riel handed Jonathon
over to the authorities, and a Bow Street Runner and several constables scoured the Duke’s mansion and carriage. They discovered enough evidence to put him in jail. Riel, as well as the rest of the London, was relieved to witness the end of the Silk Scarf Rapist’s reign of terror.

And Riel felt a grim satisfaction that after punching Jonathon into unconsciousness, he’d possessed the self-discipline to stop hitting the snake. Riel’s latent fear of losing control, and again mindlessly killing someone in a rage, at last began to evaporate. Finally, healing unfurled in his soul.

Lucy was another story.

Riel was fiercely glad he’d saved her from that monster. God willing, never again would a Warrington harm a woman.

Once they got back home, however, the full reality of the situation hit Riel.

Yes, Lucy was safe, but nothing had changed. She had run away from
him
that night. She’d been shocked to discover his past murderous sin, yes, but she’d chosen Jonathon. She’d wanted to marry th
at rat
. She’d said so, before she learned of Riel’s monstrous deed.

Lucy did not want him. All of their squabbles should have proven that to him. All the ways she’d pushed him away over the last two years should have made that abundantly clear. But foolishly, Riel had believed something deeper had developed between them. He had fallen in love with her, and hoped she might love him, too.

How wrong he’d been. Lucy had not only been willing, but eager to marry Jonathon.

Pain knifed through Riel’s heart. He loved her so much. If he thought he had the slightest chance now, he would pursue her, and perhaps even beg her to consider him, even though he knew he was unfit for her. But Lucy did not want him. She never had. And now she saw him as a murderer.

It was time he accepted reality.

He should feel happy. After all, Lucy was safe. He’d saved her from the wolf, like he’d promised Peter. Now he must only stand by her side until she married…much as that thought cut like a blade.

And so Riel shut himself in his study all week long, hoping it would ease the pain. It didn’t. And so he made a decision. After Lucy’s Season ended, he’d take another voyage on the
Tradewind
. Living with Lucy at Ravensbrook would prove more torture than he could endure.

* * * * *

This last week in Riel’s townhouse had felt strange to Lucinda.

Sophie, although peaceful, was weaker still. Lucinda and Riel had agreed not to tell her about Jonathon’s attack upon Lucinda. They didn’t want to upset her, or compromise her frail health. Lucinda spent every minute she could with Riel’s aunt, reading, or just talking. Grief gripped her heart as Sophie’s health failed.

Lucinda had skipped most social events. They held no appeal. Amelia said people were starting to speculate about her absence. So tonight she would finally attend her first ball since the incident. Although no one would know about the foolish choices she had made, Lucinda could not forget them.

Riel was quiet, too. He disappeared into his study for long hours every day. When he wasn’t there, he was with Sophie…and only when Lucinda was absent. He only emerged from his self-imposed exile to escort her to those very few social events. And there he remained distant and silent.

Lucinda didn’t understand the distance between them, not after the way he’d dramatically rescued her, and then held her in his arms long afterward.

It had seemed like he cared for her. So why had he avoided her all week?

Lucinda tried to tell herself it was for the best, but it bothered her, and she could not let it go. Was he still angry that she’d run off with Jonathon? Because she’d defied him?

If so, surely he would confront her. But he didn’t. So it had to be something else.

She stopped him, one day on the stair, with a quick touch on his arm. He looked at her hand for a long moment, and she dropped it. A blush warmed her cheeks. With those dark, unreadable eyes upon her, it was hard to think.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“You are well. What more can I wish for?” He seemed detached, but otherwise hard to read.

“You’re angry with me. Is it because I ran off with Jonathon?” Her heart stuck in her throat at the bold question—the crux of the problem between them, she knew it.

“You followed your heart. Sometimes our hearts betray us.” His black eyes held hers. What was he trying to tell her?

“So you’re not angry with me?”

“No. I am not angry with you.” He brushed by her, and continued up the stairs to Sophie’s room.

Apprehension gnawed inside her. Something was wrong. Clearly, Riel did not want to speak to her. But why?

Even Amelia, dancing a scandalous number of dances with young Fenwick at the ball that evening, noticed Riel’s cool manner.

“What’s happened between you and the Baron?” she asked as they sat together, taking a breather between dances.

Amelia had been shocked to learn that her cousin was the notorious rapist, but over the last week she had come to her usual level-headed equilibrium about it. Lucinda could not. The horror of that night played over and over again through her dreams.

“It’s complicated,” Lucinda said now. She wished she could talk to her friend about it, but there were too many secrets…and not all were hers to share.

“Is he angry with you?”

“I don’t know. Things aren’t right between us. I’m not sure if they ever can be again.” For Riel was still a murderer. Self-admitted. By rights, he should not be escorting her all over London, but Lucinda could not, and would not, reveal his secret to the authorities. And so he would remain her guardian in this complicated game.

“Jonathon tried to force himself on you, didn’t he?”

Lucinda blanched. “Don’t ask me what happened.”

“It’s clear on your face. And Riel’s the one who bashed in Jonathon’s nose.”

“Yes,” she said, looking down at her hands.

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to talk to me. There’s nothing left to say.”

“The looks you give each other speak volumes.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re miserable, and so is he. Talk to him,” her friend urged.

Lucinda swallowed. “Why? What’s the point?”

“The point?” Amelia rolled her eyes, and then pushed her, for Riel appeared a scant few yards away. “Baron,” she called. “Lucinda has an empty slot she would like you to fill.”

Riel strode closer, as tall as ever, with his hair still in that pirate’s tail. His black eyes burned into Lucinda like coals. “Is that your wish, Lady Lucinda?”

That was another thing. He’d begun to call her by her full title. It annoyed her. With a chin tilt, she stood. “Yes. I would be honored.”

Riel offered his black clad arm. She took it, and followed him to the dance floor. And then she was in his arms, dancing a country dance. His steps were smooth and polished. Every inch the gentleman Baron…or a Duke. Nothing of the pirate. Or was there?

His eyes glittered down at her. “Why did you want to dance with me?”

“I realized I never thanked you.”

His steps faltered. “For that night?”

“Of course for that night.”

They danced in silence for a moment, twirled apart, and then together again.

Stiffly, Riel said, “I am sorry the man you loved betrayed your trust.”

Lucinda felt a flare of shock. Riel believed…? But then, she’d let him, Lucinda remembered. Now she must put that lie straight, at least.

“I don’t love him. I never did.” An unknown emotion flickered in those dark eyes. “I…” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Lucinda couldn’t say that she’d been desperate to flee from her feelings for Riel. And that she’d been a fool. “I believed no other man would ask for me. I thought he was my only choice.”

They spun apart, and then found their way back to each other.

“You believed that eloping with Jonathon would be more pleasant than enduring another year under my care?” An edge bit through his voice.

Lucinda blinked back tears and looked down. Yes. More pleasant than a year of anguish, living close to the man she truly loved, but could never have. A man unfit to be her husband, and worse, one who had no desire to pursue that position. Wasn’t the sea his first love? What a sorry, impossible mess it all was.

Riel’s grip tightened on her, and she felt the tension simmering inside him.

Another parting, then whirling together again. Lucinda hated the ever increasing distance between them. Desperately, she blurted, “Why are you so angry? And why have you been avoiding me?”

“Your opinion of me is clear. I will fulfill my duties as your guardian, but you will not be forced to endure my presence any more than is necessary, Lady Lucinda.”

Something snapped inside of her. “Stop it!” With a glare, she stomped on his toe.

Shock, and then a spark of the old Riel flared to life. “Stop what, exactly?”

“Call me
Lucy.
You always have. Why stop now?”

“You want me to call you Lucy?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I want you to be the man you were before I learned your horrific secret.”

“I am still that man.”

“How can you be?” she burst out. “You
killed
someone,” she whispered. “How can I forget that?”

His fingers at her waist tightened. “As I wanted to kill Jonathon that night,” he said in a low voice. “But I did not.”

Lucinda tried to make sense of this apparent non sequitur. “The man you killed…was he a rapist, like Jonathon?”

“No.” The single word bit out. “He was innocent of any crime except for greed.”

Lucinda guessed more must lay behind the story than Jonathon had revealed. “What happened? Will you please tell me?”

“It will make no difference. I’m still guilty of murder.”

“I want to know. I must know, if you are to continue as my guardian. I need to know if I can trust you or not.” Of course, Lucinda already knew she could trust him. She just wanted to know the complete truth for herself.

His dark head dipped closer to her own. “You are ready to leave the ball?”

Her heart fluttered faster. “Yes.”

“Then come.” Like a matador with a cape, he strode for the exit.

“Baron!” Their heads swiveled at George’s voice. What was he doing in the ballroom? “It is Lady Sophia. She asked me to get you. I fear…” His white face and pinched lips told the story.

Within minutes they boarded the carriage and headed home. Silent tears slipped down Lucinda’s cheeks. She prayed they were not too late…she prayed Sophie would not pass this eve.

* * * * *

They found Sophie breathing shallowly, and looking as gray and weak as a kitten. She greeted them both faintly, and indicated she wanted to speak to Lucinda alone.

Once Riel left, Sophie gripped Lucinda’s hand with alarming weakness. “Tell Riel…what…feel for him.”

“But I don’t…”

Wise old eyes looked into her soul. “Don’t lie…to a dying…woman. It’s clear…what you feel.”

“But he killed a man. You know that, don’t you, Sophie?” Lucinda whispered.

“Yes. The man…was…responsible…” Sophie gasped for breath. “…for the death…of a girl…a friend of Riel’s.”

“But…”

“Riel…must tell you. Promise me…one thing, Lucinda.”

“Anything.” Tears burned.

“Do not…mourn for me. I go…to a far better place. Smell flowers…live…love. Now…is your time, Lucinda. Don’t waste…a precious moment. Promise me.”

Lucinda nodded, blinded by tears. “I love you, Sophie.”

“And I…love you.” Sophie smiled. It was a glimmer of her old bright one. “Know nothing…could make me happier…than you…and Riel…overcoming…barriers between you.” Her breaths quieted, and her spurt of energy evaporated. Sophie whispered, “Call Riel.”

“Riel!”

Riel immediately entered, and Sophie clasped his hand. “Stubborn boy,” she whispered. “Forgive…self. You are…worthy of…far…more than a dukedom. You deserve…every happiness. Pursue what…you most want…don’t let…anything stop you.”

Riel glanced at Lucinda. “I will do all I can.”

Sophie’s eyes fluttered closed. “Good. I…will rest now.”

Sophie slipped quietly away in the night. Both Lucinda and Riel were there, and even the doctor. He said her heart just stopped beating. A peaceful passing, and for that, Lucinda was grateful. She’d been so afraid Sophie would suffocate on the fluid in her lungs. What an awful passing that would have been.

But now she was at peace.