The Pirate Prince (33 page)

“So, what happened, Cap? We all want to know.”

“Laying bets on my love life again, eh?” Lazar drawled.

“Bored already?” one asked.

“Wouldn’t give in, eh, Cap?”

“Leave ’im alone. A man’s got to be a gentleman,” she heard another protest. She believed it was Mr. Donaldson.

Lazar laughed idly. “She’s not my type, is all.”

Allegra sucked in her breath as she stood there on the companionway, listening to the exclamations and scoffs.

“If she’s not to your fancy, why, pass her along!”

“Now, now. Miss Monteverdi is still my ward,” he chided them.

“Ain’t you gonna bed her, Cap?”

“Not if she were the last woman on the earth,” he replied amiably.

Allegra’s jaw dropped.

“Why not, Cap? She’s a fine-lookin’ girl.”

Why indeed?

“Aye, she’s pretty enough,” he said in an easy tone.

“Seems right clever, for a woman.”

“Oh, she has been blessed with wit, to be sure, and virtue,” Lazar said casually, without malice. “Virtue piled upon virtue so that she stands on a veritable mountain of holiness so high she has the very ear of God. Believe me, lads, none of us lowly salts are worthy to touch the hem of her gown.”

They laughed. Allegra stood in the dark, openmouthed, but he was not done.

“No, gentlemen, for all her charms, I’m afraid Miss Monteverdi is a harpy, a prude, a sharp-tongued little shrew. Whatever man has the ill fortune to wed her will surely go to an early grave, fatally henpecked.”

Allegra’s eyes filled with tears of horror. One hand over her lips, she climbed back down the companionway and fled back to her cabin, where she locked the door and cried and cried.

Because she knew every word of it was true.

Late that night, Lazar stood alone in the passageway, fighting with himself before the door to the second cabin. The blackness was closing in on him. He had worked for hours on the letters he would soon dispatch to his father’s former advisers when they reached Al Khuum. Now he was raw with fatigue, but every time he tried to sleep, he was instantly plunged into nightmare. Merely standing here, he trembled a little.

Chérie
.

If only he could go to her and lie in her arms.

The nights he’d spent holding her were some of the sweetest and most peaceful he had ever known. He would have given his ship and every gold coin he’d ever stolen to take back that arrogant, idiotic ultimatum that had led to this.

He braced both hands on the lintel of her cabin and leaned his forehead against the door, eyes closed.

Help me
, chérie.
I am afraid
.

He shuddered, letting out a long, slow breath. But he did not knock. He would not, could not, give her another reason to scorn him. Her words still clung like poisoned quills in his hide. By God, he would win her respect.

He was not her Prince, not that perfect man she deserved, but he wanted to be.

If I survive this
, he thought,
perhaps then I will be worthy of you
.

When the captain summoned her the next evening, Allegra was forced to leave the shelter of her musty little cabin. She had hidden there all day, nursing her hurt feelings, too ashamed to show her face on deck.

As she made her way to the cabin in answer to his order that she attend him, she was resolved to keep a dignified silence. At least she did not have to fear that he had called her to seduce her. No, he did not want her even if she were the last woman on the earth. Knees knocking at the prospect of facing him again, she rapped on the cabin door.

“Come,” answered the forceful command.

She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and entered. Lazar was standing behind his desk, dressed as he had been the first night she saw him, the marauding barbarian in black.

That did not bode well, she thought.

“Good, you’re here,” he said briskly.

Allegra pulled the door closed, then folded her hands behind her back, her face an expressionless mask. “What is your will?”

“Have a seat.”

Without looking at her, he took his two elegant dueling pistols out of the drawer, then set a pouch of gunpowder next to them. She obeyed, going stiffly to the armchair. She sat up straight, folding her hands primly in her lap just like the prude she was.

Calmly, he loaded his weapons, never looking at her. “Within half an hour, I shall disembark. There are a few details of which I must advise you. First, you are to stay belowdecks until we are done here.”

She itched to ask why, but she refused to, commanding herself to be silent. She would show him! For once she would take his word at face value and not question his every move. Obviously the man knew what he was doing.

Lazar rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead in a weary, careworn gesture.

“Second, there are a few things I have to say to you.” He moved around the desk and braced his hips against it, folding his massive arms over his chest as he studied her. Seeing that penetrating stare, she braced herself for a scathing dressing-down along the lines of what she’d overheard last night.

“I behaved abominably the other night, and I am heartily sorry, Miss Monteverdi.”

She lifted her gaze to his in astonishment.

“May I have your pardon?” he asked soberly.

Dazed, she stared up at him. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” He turned his back. “The truth is, I am sorry for all of it,” he mumbled. “I destroyed your life, as you’ve pointed out on numerous occasions, but in return, Miss Monteverdi, you have given me more than I can repay you for.”

She stared, flabbergasted, at his broad back.
What on earth?

“For that reason, I have made you sole beneficiary of my will. Give me your hand.”

“Your
will
?” As he stalked toward her, she obediently held out her hand. He pressed a small key into it, though he never looked at her.

“This is the key to the safe. If I don’t come back, I want you to have the Fiori heirlooms. I know you won’t sell them,” he mumbled. “I have named old Fitzhugh as your guardian to conduct you to some suitable acquaintances of mine on Martinique, a few elder ladies who will act as your chaperons until you acquire a husband there among the gentlemen planters. I’m sure you’ll find someone there you can tolerate at least as well as that ex-fiancé of yours, and because you are still a—well, there are no difficult matters to explain to a future husband.”

Pale with dread, she stared at him. “My God, Lazar, you are in real danger, aren’t you?”

He cast her a cynical look. “Are you concerned for me at last, hmm,
chérie
?”

“Why have we come here?”

“Oh, pirate business,” he said with idle insolence as he sauntered back to his desk.

Her heart was pounding. The key grew sticky in her suddenly sweating palms. “Please don’t be impossible now. What place is this?”

“A kind of hell,” he admitted with a slight, bittersweet smile, then he lowered his head. “I lived here for a while when I was a boy. When I left Ascencion, I was wearing my royal signet ring. The master of this place stole it from me. I’ve come to get it back.”

“Who is he?”

He stared at her, as if weighing whether or not to tell her. “He is called Sayf-del-Malik,” he said. “The Sword of Honor.”

“Can you make him give it back?”

“When he learns all my ships’ guns are pointed at Al Khuum, that should give His Excellency sufficient motive to obey me.”

“What if he still refuses?” she whispered.

He was silent for a long moment. “I’ll do my best, Allegra, but if he tries to humiliate me, I will fight to the death. He will not shame me again. He may take my life, but he will not have my pride.”

“He won’t dare,” she forced out, understanding more than Lazar realized about the kind of shame he meant. “You’re not a boy anymore. Besides, your men will be there to stand with you and protect you—”

“No,” he said. “I’m going alone.”

Allegra felt exactly as if Goliath’s mighty fist had just knocked the wind out of her once more. “Alone?”

“It’s the only way.” He cast her a grim smile. “Take heart, Miss Monteverdi. If I have not returned in two hours’ time, the Brethren will open fire on Al Khuum with full broadsides. You may soon be rid of me for good.”

Lazar crossed the cabin to his sea chest and took out a honing stone. Sitting down at his desk, he commenced sharpening the blade of his Moorish knife.

He looked over curiously at her when she shot to her feet, distraught, hands bunched into fists at her sides. She stared at him in stunned dread, her heart pounding, her hands icy, her cheeks growing hotter and hotter.

“I knew it. This is all my fault,” she said in a voice that shook. “You mustn’t risk your life over what I said. I take it back. I take it all back, everything I said. You mustn’t go.”

“Indeed I must, if I am to take back Ascencion. That is what you wanted, isn’t it, Allegra?” he asked with a penetrating midnight gaze.

Helplessly, she stared at him. “Yes, but—send someone else. If you’re going to take back your throne—innumerable lives depend on you, Lazar—there is too much at stake to make a show of pride—”

“It’s not pride, Allegra. It’s honor, as you pointed out. Besides, I can fight my own battles.”

She fell silent for a moment while the blade rang against the stone, spraying sparks.

“Please don’t do this,” she heard herself whisper. “There’s got to be some other way. Maybe you don’t need the signet ring. If you contact your father’s advisers, no one will deny you….”

Her voice trailed off, for she saw she was having no effect on him.

As he tested the knife’s deadly sharpness between thumb and forefinger, his booted heels propped up on his desk, his thoughts seemed a million miles away.

“Lazar, listen to me—”

He swung his legs down off the desk. “It’s the point of the thing, Allegra. Quit arguing.”

“You don’t have to do this!”

“Yes, I do,” he said with quiet, contained ferocity. When he looked up at her, his stare was like a lightning bolt.

She drew back.

“No fear, Allegra. Do not waver. I need your strength now.”

Chastened, she clasped her hands together and brought them up under her chin. She closed her eyes and lowered her head. “Take men with you, Lazar, for the love of God,” she said, emphasizing every word. “Surely there are some of them you can trust to keep whatever secrets you wish to hide.”

“Vicar’s coming with me.” He smirked and glanced at the ceiling. “I was unable to dissuade him.”

“Vicar!” she burst out. “What’s he going to do? He’s no fighter! Take Sully and Captain Russo, or that savage young American—”

“It’s not that kind of fight.”

“What do you mean?”

“You would have to know Malik to understand.” Inner shadows flitted over his countenance, darkening his eyes. Then he tossed the knife and honing stone onto the desk.

“Let
me
go with you. If it is a battle of wits rather than force, I see no reason why I shouldn’t accompany you myself.”

“You really are adorable.” He chuckled. “What are you going to do, my fierce kitten? Hiss at the bad man?”

“I resent that!” She lifted her chin, eyes ablaze. “I told you I would help you however I can!”

“Out of the question.” He stood and continued girding himself for his battle. He fastened the pistol holster around his waist, then lifted the leather shoulder strap of his sword’s sheath over his head so it lay across his chest.

Heart pounding with dread, more desperate by the second, Allegra suddenly wished she had never brought the quest for Ascencion before him at all.

Tentatively, she rounded the desk and went to him, reaching up to slip her arms around his neck, ignoring the arsenal of weapons he wore.

“Stay. Please. You have nothing to prove.” She held her breath at her own recklessness, gazing up into his midnight eyes. “Lie with me. Teach me how to pleasure you,” she whispered. “Don’t go.”

He stood tall, but looking down at her, his eyes flickered. Then he shook his head, removing her arms from around his neck.

“I cannot risk leaving you to raise a fatherless child.”

She punched his chest. “Stop it! You’re not going to die! I forbid it!”

He stared down at her, his expression increasingly stark. “I’ve been wanting to tell you, Allegra, how beautiful you are.” He swallowed hard and looked away. “So very beautiful.”

She clutched his open vest in both her hands, pleading with him. “Please don’t leave me. I cannot bear to lose you.” She threw her arms around his neck and held him tight, clinging to him with all her strength as tears flooded her eyes.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lowered his head, kissing her with savage hunger. She devoured his kiss as two tears coursed down her face, for she knew now that the real reason he had summoned her was to say good-bye.

Too soon, Lazar ended their kiss, panting.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, he took her face between his hands and stared fiercely into her eyes. “I will come back to you.”

As she met his feverish stare, she could see him struggling with himself and knew she was only making the whole thing harder on him. Somehow she bit back her pleas.

“Allegra, I would have your blessing,” he whispered.

“Oh, very well, just go,” she cried, whirling away from him before she broke down in sobs, for that would only further erode his confidence. “Do what you want! I don’t care! Just go!”

“Allegra, I—” He stopped himself. “Good-bye,
chérie
.”

Behind her, the door closed.

She whispered, “Good-bye, my Prince.”