The Pirate's Duchess: A Regent's Revenge Novella (8 page)

 

 

SEVEN

 

BRANDY COVE provided a hint at the BLACK REGENT’s identity when several revenue officers discovered JOURNALS attributed to the smuggler’s activities. Alas, sources close to
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
gleaned INFORMATION from within the books MALIGNING Lord U. who, for privacy’s sake, urged this office to maintain his CONFIDENTIALITY.

~
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
, 1 March 1809

 

 

Tobias stood fully dressed in ducal clothing at the end of his bunk and gazed down at his wife. Lost in slumber, her hair spread across the pillow under her head like an angelic halo, he exhaled a sigh of contentment. With little to no sleep, Prudence had proven she was no longer the innocent creature he’d taken to his marriage bed. She was bolder, adventurous, demanding to be mastered with a sensuality that captured his soul.

Silhouetted by his black sheets, she was a feast for the eyes, a delicious cream confection, a pirate’s duchess contoured in glory, and it was this image of her he burned into his mind. Her cultured allure, sensually tempting body, had stolen his breath away. Her full, plump lips understood instinctively how to mate with his, and had successfully made him forget the vow he’d given his father—for a time.

How long he’d stood gazing down at her, he couldn’t be certain. He’d been rooted to the spot for several moments, desiring nothing but to resume his place by her side, to wrap her in his arms and make love to her again and again. But life had a way of intervening.

He still had Underwood to deal with.

He’d agreed to meet Markwick at the Downs, and when he did, he would set a plan into motion that involved several players to take down Underwood. After years of studying the marquess’s tactics, he was able to foresee the man’s every move. Underwood was predictable. Tobias’s safe return to Prudence depended on the truth of that knowledge.

His heart heavy with regret, he bent to grab his boots and spied the ring on his finger.

“With this ring, you can be whole again,”
she’d said.

Curse and damn me.

He’d also given Prudence his word, promising never to leave her again. He loved her with all his heart, body, and mind. But Markwick waited to help him end Underwood’s schemes and to that end, he could ultimately keep Prudence safe. He prayed she had it within herself to forgive him one last time because he’d made up his mind. If he was going to return to Blackmoor, nothing could get in the way of his meeting with Markwick at the Downs.

His one true sin? He was the sixth Duke of Blackmoor, a descendant of men who were loyal to a fault, despite how his abandonment of Prudence might have looked. He’d made a vow to his father that couldn’t be broken. He’d made a vow to help the innocent people affected by Underwood’s corruption, to make that evil known and see justice served. And he’d made a vow to his wife that he fully intended to keep.

“Good-bye, my dove,” he whispered. “I
will
return to you.”

Prudence inhaled deeply but didn’t open her eyes. She smiled happily and snuggled deeper into the mattress and released a seductive sigh.

He took out his pocket watch—half past four bells—then eyed Prudence one more time, memorizing her face. “If I don’t return, move heaven and earth to find happiness.”

He strode to the door, pulled the latch, opened the screened portal, and closed it soundlessly behind him.

Pye immediately greeted him in the passageway. “Are ye ready, Cap’n?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

His first mate handed him his effects. Tobias strapped a leather belt brandishing a sheathed dagger around his waist, then flipped his cloak over his shoulders. He snatched up his cane.

“Will this be the day we put Ol’ Woody out of business for good?”

Tobias grinned. Pye’s nickname for Underwood would give the old man fits. “The Downs is the perfect landscape for a duel: the land is clear and offers little opportunity for ambush. If we are to coax Underwood into revealing that he hired someone to have me killed, and was responsible for more deaths than my perceived one, our so-called bitter squabble over the duchess must go off without a hitch. We must make the marquess believe that he will lose his son if he doesn’t intervene.”

“Will the earl go along with your plan to deceive his father?”

Tobias couldn’t say. Markwick had never been close to his father, though he’d looked up to Underwood and spoken of him affectionately when they’d been children. They were men now with responsibilities, people reliant on their living. “We are men of action, he and I. You can count on it.”

“May it be so.” Pye’s uneven gait followed Tobias to the companionway. “And the other matter?”

“What other matter?” Tobias laughed. “Or do you forget there are several?”

“There is that,” he admitted dryly. “And priority must prevail. The duchess, in particular.”

“What about her?” His annoyance couldn’t be measured. “I leave you here to ensure she stays out of trouble. I will not allow her to be put in harm’s way. Are we clear?”

The crusty seaman nodded, his mouth fixed in a tight line. Tobias understood the man’s exasperation. But his leg, shot off below the knee in a cannon misfire, prevented the man from foraying out on missions like this one.

“You are the only one I trust to keep Prudence safe.” He patted Pye’s shoulder. “Be a good man and see it done, eh?”

“Cap’n, what if Walsingham recognizes you?” Pye shouted after him as he ascended the companionway.

“Is this what’s raised your hackles?” He turned to regard the astute man, pleased he cared for Tobias’s welfare. “We’ve no reason to believe Walsingham will recognize me as the Black Regent. But as a revenue officer, his presence is paramount. No matter what can be said of him, he’s honorable. I do not want any complications and I will not leave anything to chance. Underwood’s confession must be heard by someone related to the law.”

Pye shuffled out of the hatch and came to a stop beside him. “Your ‘seconds’ will be there. We’ve already received word.”

Tobias grinned, imagining how the trap he’d set for Underwood registered with his childhood friends Barrett and Lords Thaddeus Standeford and Frederick Landon. Like him, they’d waited long enough to see justice served.

“Excellent. Now I must away if I intend to confer with Markwick at our agreed-upon rendezvous point prior to the duel.”

Pye frowned.

“What now, Pye?”

“The duchess, sir. What shall I tell her if she wakes before ye return?”

“Pray I come back before she does.”

 

 

Prudence stretched her body languidly, then reached her hand across the bunk and patted the mattress, feeling blissfully happy and alive.

Or at least until she realized Tobias wasn’t lying beside her.

“Tobias?”

He didn’t respond.

She gathered her sluggish wits, moaning as aching muscles rebelled, a telltale sign the night they’d spent sexually intertwined hadn’t been a dream.

Timbers moaned, and water swished against the hull. Voices carried from the dock. The lantern, having been turned down, creaked back and forth, back and forth with irritating regularity. Her heart started racing.

She called out his name again. “Tobias?”

Rising on her elbows, she glanced around the cabin. A shaft of broken moonlight streamed through a crack in the heavy damask curtains, adding muted illumination to the cabin. It was empty.

She slipped from the bunk, curled her toes against the cool wooden planks of the decking at her feet, then pulled one of the sheets around her shoulders to ward off the dank cold. Warily, she walked to the window and pulled the drape aside.

The hidden cove did little to aid her sense of time. Was it four? Five? If the sun had yet to rise, where was Tobias? She’d expected to wake up in his arms, especially their first morning together after so long.

She shivered, splayed her right hand over her abdomen, and smiled recalling the hours they’d spent making love. Could she even now be carrying Tobias’s heir?

Tobias.

Where was he? She wanted to share this joyful morning with him.

I give you my word as a gentlema
n—
as your husban
d—
I will do everything in my power to make sure Markwick isn’t harmed
.

The duel!

I didn’t choose the
Fury
over you, Prudence. How I wish you’d understand. Someone has to stand up to Underwood, to come to the aid of the men he’s destroyed.

Good God!
She’d been so swept up in pleasure she hadn’t realized the intricacy of his wording!

She had to find him. If he intended to proceed with the duel, he could be in danger!

Prudence spun around and searched the room. She had to do something. And fast.

“Tobias?” She grimaced at the pitiful squeak in her voice.

Damn him, he left without saying good-bye again!

She hastily put her fingers to her temples. She needed to get to the Downs. This wasn’t unlike any disaster she’d handled at the manor house in his absence or among squabbling tenants who depended on Tobias’s estate. If she stayed calm, she could maneuver this in her favor.

First, she needed comfortable clothes. After the deluge they’d ridden through yesterday, in addition to ripping it for bandages and traveling to the
Fury
’s hidden cove, her wedding gown was nothing but rags. She glanced around the cabin, locating a trunk situated near a washstand. She moved to it and quickly opened the lid. Within it, she found several pairs of breeches, trousers, linen shirts, and stockings. Seizing one of each, without concerning herself with the fit, she threw the articles on the bunk and began putting them on over her shift one by one, beginning with the stockings to warm her bare feet. The black breeches, though shorter on a man’s leg were a bit longer on her, the hem settling at her ankles. Linen sleeves hung freely at her elbows. To aid in movement, she tied the fabric together at her waist with coils of blackened rope to reduce the excess.

Modesty intact, she tapped her chin in thought. She needed shoes and a weapon. She raised her gaze to the wall where Tobias had hung his dagger the night before. It was gone. She moved to his desk, opening one drawer after another, finally locating another knife, this one fitting perfectly in her hand.

She glanced down at her slippers. They were damp and muddy but would have to do. She tied the silk around her ankles and headed for the cabin door. Once there, she unlatched the handle, opened the door to their compartment, and crept out, careful not to make a sound.

Skittish and slightly frightened, but determined not to be a widow again, she made her way past equipment and gun tackle, cannon and the capstan, walking back exactly the way she’d come. She climbed the companionway ladder to the top deck, crouching, darting behind barrels and crates, eager to escape detection from the men milling below. There was only one way she could get out of the cove. She wasn’t strong enough to power a boat on her own. She needed help. And that meant she needed to convince Tobias’s men to do just that.

Cautiously, she made her way down the
Fury
’s gangplank until she could hide behind several barrels of rum.

Several men argued near the cutter tied to the makeshift dock.

“We can’t allow ’im to face Ol’ Woody alone. You know what he done to Shaw,” a man with a large gold earring in his left ear said.

“Aye,” a large, bulky pirate agreed. “Starved the man out, he did. Left his poor widow and child for days without food and water. She’s a feisty one, Shaw’s widow. Sworn to protect the cap’n come what may.”

A blunderbuss pistol sat on bundles of tea stacked five yards away. If she could reach it before she was discovered, she could use it to threaten the men into doing her bidding. Basil had schooled Prudence on the loading and unloading of guns, informing her that it was his duty to make sure she was protected without a duke in the house. She’d never been concerned for her safety, as surrounded as she was by loyal servants such as the Dennys, but now she wanted to kiss the earl for taking the time to educate her in survival tactics. Thank God in heaven, she’d found the whole process riveting fun. She was a crack shot.

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