Destiny of the Heart (Viking Destiny) (4 page)

Derrick grinned despite himself, though. Charlie had the
great misfortune of liking men, a circumstance none of the
family could understand when women were much better
looking, but he had withstood their disapproval. Given that
Scott was quick to offer it at every turn, Derrick respected
Charlie's resolve. He was who he was and wasn't going to
change because some people might not like it. And Derrick
would be the first to run anyone to the ground if they so much
as breathed a derogatory word about Charlie, or any of his
brothers for that matter. He had, too. Many fights erupted
when the rumors about Charlie began.

But, it was purely gossip as no one in the family had
ever confirmed it. They'd agreed that it was Charlie's life and
he could tell society or not, though Scott had strongly urged
him to keep it quiet. But, even still, the rest of the family
received more than their fair share of Scott's tyrannical
sermons. With today's sermon about Morocco still fresh on
Derrick's mind, he scowled again. He still had no idea how
Scott knew about the trip, or any of his activities, but it
certainly made him consider the people he kept in his life. He
didn't like that someone close to him was keeping tabs for
Scott, indeed he didn't.

In any event, the row with this brother had not
persuaded him to change his plans. He still planned to sail to
Morocco as he'd managed to secure a deal with one of his
local tradesmen for tangerines, which had become all the rage
in London. Besides, Derrick always liked going to Morocco.
The country was absolutely beautiful, and the water was so
clear you could see all the way to the bottom.

The other issue that occupied his mind was the news
that he'd received upon entering his study that afternoon after
speaking with Scott. Apparently someone had found the caves
in the cliffs he used to store his cargo. A complete inventory
had shown nothing missing, but some very fine, very costly
silks had been ruined. Whoever the squatter was had been
using the silks as a pallet to the cold stone floors. Derrick had
taken the news in stride, considering, but he'd not gotten this
far in his dealings to react hastily. He'd bide his time and
eventually he'd catch the bloody sod and set him straight.

So consumed with his thoughts, he hadn't been paying
attention and didn't hear his name being called. He swung
around violently at the hand on this shoulder, anticipating a
fight and ready to oblige the unlucky fellow. But, to Derrick's
utter disappointment, it was only Jack, probably come to
report.

“Whoa, ye a'right there cap'n? Ye seem a might
distracted, not ter mention ready to tear someone limb from
limb.”

Jack was quite possibly the only person that could get
away with teasing Derrick, especially in his present mood. The
two went way back having been friends since their school
days. Jack wasn't a lord himself, but he'd been there because
his grandfather had wanted to give him an education. His
mother had married beneath her station for love, to the horror
of her family. Unlike Derrick, Jack wasn't the least bit bored
with life, but he did enjoy what he was doing now as opposed
to what his family would have him do.

They had wished him to follow in his father's footsteps
and become a blacksmith. It was an honorable trade, no
doubt, but Jack's heart just wasn't in it, so he'd never been
good at it. He found he was much better at running a ship, and
making sure Derrick had a rough time of it.

“We came across the bugger thas been in 'em caves,
mate. Ye might want a lookie see yerself, methinks.” Jack
grinned from ear to ear, knowing this would be quite amusing.

“Jack,
you were schooled the same as I. Why do you
insist on speaking as a low born ruffian? And I don't find
anything funny about this situation. It could be someone sent
to watch us, or someone who already knows what we're
about. A number of other possibilities come to mind.”

“And I be sure tha' none of what ye's thinking be
correct, so stop yer fussin'.” Jack said, completely ignoring
Derrick's comment about his speech.

Jack slummed his speech because it made the crew
more amiable to do as they were told. Not many fancied
working for a nabob, not that anyone would really consider
Derrick a nabob once they got to know him, but it was an
assumption that was made all the same. Once they'd gotten
everyone settled though, Jack kept the speech simply to
annoy Derrick. For whatever reason it bothered him that Jack
spoke that way, so naturally, Jack was determined to continue
until the day it stopped bothering Derrick to distraction.

Derrick's dark scowl wasn't improving.
“Ye'll be seeing fer yerself, mate.” Jack replied
cryptically and turned to head back to the caves.
Chapter 4

Kristen threw her bag out the window and clambered
down after it, using the tree branches to reach the ground.
Since Derrick had refused to accept the marriage contract, her
despicable stepfather took it upon himself to insist she marry
him. She had thought the arrangement was that she would
meet suitors he approved, but he had quickly disabused her of
that notion. Angry, and a bit worried truth be told, she had
promptly told him how vulgar he was and what he could do
with his proposal.

Admittedly, that might not have been the most prudent
way to handle it because he had only grown angry, and as
luck would have it, that seemed to embolden him. The
miserable cur tried to force himself on her, but Kristen stabbed
him in the arm with the small dagger she carried. It was a gift
from her mother, and one Kristen was well trained to use.
Ashby had been shocked that she had stabbed him, but it got
her point across well enough. He didn't seem deterred in the
slightest, though, having locked her in her room straight after.
He even refused to feed her until she agreed to marry him.

The bloody sod, she thought miserably as she dropped
from the tree branch. The fact that he was the only family she
had left was the only reason she hadn't run him through with
the end of her blade. Although, as her stomach rumbled
angrily, she seriously regretted that decision. Her stepfather
was a disgusting excuse for a man, and it certainly wasn't a
secret that her mother hadn't loved him. But, she married him
to protect Kristen.

The story her mother told her growing up was always
riddled with holes, but when Kristen pressed for details, her
mother told her there would be a time to discuss it when she
was older. Kristen had always suspected that Ashby resented
her and her mother for how things turned out for him. Despite
the fact that Marie, Kristen's mother, had paid off Ashby's
gambling debts, he hadn't wanted to get married. But, as he
began to rack up debt again over the years, Marie had refused
to pay them off. Ashby had grown angry and threatened to
expose them for who they really were, but Marie brushed it off
each time, promising he would not like the consequences of
doing so. Nevertheless, Kristen's mother most likely suspected
Ashby's intentions, and if Kristen had to guess, that was why
she created the marriage contract with the Shane's. Since
Derrick had refused her, Kristen had to proceed with her
original plan.

Now that she had reached the ground, she gathered
her bundle and headed for the cliffs, where she intended to
stay the night and then call upon her dearest friend at a
decent hour. Meloney Atchkinson would know exactly what to
do. Kristen's mother left her plenty of money, and she could
certainly take care of herself. But, at nineteen, she hadn't met
many gentleman, a circumstance she could lay at her
stepfather's feet. Her only recourse would be to find a
husband. It wouldn't be a match for love, but perhaps she
could find someone that she at least liked. That would solve
Kristen's immediate problem with her stepfather.

When Kristen reached the cliffs, she made her way
across the familiar terrain until she reached the cave she had
found some time back. She thought the cave was already in
use when she stumbled upon it, but Kristen had returned
every night for the last two weeks and had not seen any signs
that it was occupied beyond the crates. There were several
large trunks of silk from China, a material Kristen adored,
crates of tobacco from the Americas, cans of chocolate and
other small trinkets of value. She wondered why they were
there since trade was banned with America, and most other
trade items came from the docks throughout the day. The only
plausible explanation was that someone used the cave as
their smuggling din, but Kristen had her own troubles, so she
didn't spend too much time thinking about it.

When she entered the cave, she stood against the wall
for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Once they adjusted, she walked in and frowned as she ran
into a crate she was certain hadn't been there the night before.
She looked around her small cave and became aware of
several more large crates that hadn't been there the night
before.

"Drat! I find a terrific hiding place and some other oaf
decides to move in. The bloody sod, as if I didn't have enough
to worry about." She cursed as she shifted the crates to make
walking space.

Of course, it never occurred to her that the person who
had moved in was the same person who'd put the crates there
in the first place. She was too focused on her situation to
notice much beyond the fact that more crates were in her way.
But, a shuffling noise in the dark is quite loud, and Kristen
froze when she heard it. She spun around only to run directly
into what felt like a brick wall, but she knew was a man by the
smell of him.

She tried to push away, wrinkling her nose as the
pungent odor filled her nostrils, but his meaty arms held her
firmly in place as they came up and encircled her midsection.
Without thinking, Kristen began struggling and kicking her
captor. She heard him grunt once, but he didn't loosen his grip
on her. Moving on to the next tactic, she opened her mouth to
scream, but was cut off by a rough shake and then squeezed
so tight she could barely breathe.

“One sound outta ye missy and you be swimmin' wif
them fishies, if ye catch me meanin'.” He leaned close to her
ear as he said it and shivers of revulsion went up and down
her spine.

Kristen's mind swam as she tried to grasp reason of the
situation. She didn't recognize the voice, and it was too soon
for her stepfather to have found out that she was gone. There
had been several attempts made on her life recently,
something she was sure had to do with her mother's past, but
those attempts had always been subtle and made to look like
an accident. This was far too overt to be anything but
coincidence, so she surmised this fellow must work for the
captain of whatever ship was responsible for the smuggling
that was going on.

Once the fear had subsided, she was able to think like
her mother taught her. The man was holding her too tight, and
she'd never be able to get away unless she got him to loosen
his grip. Once she accomplished that, she could get to her
knife and cause some serious damage to his person.
However, he must have sensed her thoughts because he
tightened his hold on her to the point that she could barely
breathe.

Before panic took over, she focused her mind on her
mother's teachings. Marie had told her that whenever
someone bigger than herself held her in just such a position,
she had an advantage as a woman. Kristen relaxed her
shoulders and went limp in the man's beefy arms. She caught
him off guard, and he loosened his grip just enough.

“Bloody 'ell. The damn wench 'as gone and fainted. I
knew me was...”
She wasted no time listening to his complaint.
Springing into action, she planted her hands on his shoulders
and brought one knee up as hard as she could to his stomach.
Her mother had made her practice these drills incessantly as a
child, so she was well prepared, and her kicks were as
powerful as most any man's. In her assailant's surprise, he'd
completely released her so he could hunch over to catch his
breath. He soon realized his mistake; Kristen was not a
woman to be trifled with.
“Now see 'ere, missy. Me orders are to make sure ye
don't be runnin' off ter tell tales, ye understand. I mean ter
follow them orders.” He eyed her warily as she backed away
and pulled something from her skirts.
"I don't give a damn what your orders are, sir. You stay
back, or I'll cur you to pieces and feed them to the fish, if you
catch my meaning." She replied flippantly.
The man laughed, and it reminded Kristen of twp pigs
grunting. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the noise only
served to irritate her further. Her skin crawled in anticipation of
the came next. She was going to have to bloody well fight this
man and the knowledge did nothing for her nerves since he
was as massive as a ship.
To her horror, he jumped at her and brought his
hammer of a fist down to her jaw. The sheer force of the hit
not only knocked the knife out of her hand, but also sent her
body tumbling backward several feet, slamming her into the
cave wall. She struggled to breathe and her eyes teared up
from the pain of it all. Her head was spinning, and no matter
how hard she tried to focus it, she couldn't seem to clear the
blur in her vision. Apparently one hit wasn't good enough
though because the man charged toward her again. She felt
her muscles clench and bile rise to her throat.
As the man got closer, a light entered the cave and
Kristen was able to see more than just shadows. She looked
at her attacker warily, expecting the worse, but to her utter
surprise, he winced at the voice that followed the light.
“Peevely, do reassure me that I didn't just see you
manhandle a lady. Please tell me that's an urchin cabin boy
who has lost his way.”
Kristen slumped back against the cave wall in relief.
She had no idea what Derrick was doing in the cave, but she
was grateful for his arrival. The man still hovering over her,
was not. She took his preoccupation with Derrick as an
opportunity to collect herself. The knife she didn't have the
chance to use lay on the floor not far from her, so she scooted
over and quickly picked it up. Kristen stood and dusted her
skirts, certain that, for the moment, the large man wouldn't be
attempting to hit her again. But then Derrick spoke once more,
and despite Kristen's best efforts to ignore it, chills ran down
her spine. She couldn't help it, she was utterly mesmerized by
that man.
"I'm waiting." Derrick said impatiently as he crossed his
arms over his broad chest and gave the man a most
frightening glare.
Kristen noticed with some fascination that Derrick's
eyes had lit up again. She stared at them, certain that she
could lose herself in those eyes and not minding in the least,
which was a strange sensation for her. She wasn't entirely
sure what was getting into her, but she had the strangest urge
to run to him, and let him hold and protect her. Kristen's
mother would roll over in her grave if she knew of the thoughts
running through Kristen's mind, so she looked away from
Derrick's eyes before she did anything foolish.
“Ah, sorry sir...the wench, ye see, she's rather difficult.”
The man called Peevely finally answered. His fear was
palatable as the sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Such a shame. I had hoped you would tell me that was
merely a cabin boy you slammed your fist into, a fist I might
add that has killed men before. But, since it was a lady -"
Derrick stopped and looked at the lady in question.
And, his heart dropped to the floor. An intense anger,
the likes of which he had never felt before, filled every fiber of
his being. He felt the angry flame crawl up his body and into
his face as his chest constricted at the sight of Kristen
standing there, her face battered and already beginning to
swell. Derrick's lips tightened, and he dropped his hands from
his chest and clenched them at his sides.
Jack didn't think the situation was very funny anymore.
He hadn't expected Peevely to harm the girl, though he did
have to hand it to her, she was certainly taking it far better
than most women of her ilk. Hell, even tavern wenches used
to such treatment didn't take it as well as Kristen had. Still, the
dangerous glow to Derrick's eyes did not bode well for
Peevely, and despite his lack of thought in striking a lady,
Peevely was a damn fine man to have on board. Jack stepped
forward and put a hand on Derrick's shoulder.
"Derrick, he didn't know. We didn't know. He was
following orders." Jack whispered quietly so that only Derrick
could hear.
Derrick swallowed his anger as best he could because
he knew Jack was right. If it had been anyone other than
Kristen, he wouldn't lose control, so he had to get a handle on
his anger before he did something he would later regret. Still,
seeing her there made all of the guilt from earlier return with a
vengeance, and he wanted to protect her in any way he could.
He gave himself a good five count before speaking. When he
returned his gaze to Peevley, the man nearly wet himself with
fear.
"Your actions will be dealt with accordingly. Jack,
twenty lashes and a week in the brig should do for now. Get
him out of my sight."
“Aye, cap'n.” Jack replied, signaling another swarthy
man to assist in Peevely's removal.
Peevely bowed his head, ready to accept his
punishment, but shot Kristen a look of pure hatred before
leaving the cave. Very aware of her precarious situation,
Kristen hadn't moved. She glanced nervously at the four men
remaining in the room before returning her gaze to the man
who disturbed her the most. She met his intent gaze and felt
an unfurling in her belly. Heat flooded her, and she was
suddenly very uncomfortable in the cave. But, she didn't turn
away from the intensity in his eyes. She cleared her throat
though, hoping the action would prompt him to say something.
Fortunately, that seemed to remind him of where he was.
"What the devil are you doing here?" He demanded
hotly.
Kristen was certainly surprised. That was not the
greeting she had expected. "What difference does it make to
you?" She asked matter-of-factly.
Derrick frowned. There were any number of reasons
she could be in the cave that night, and not one of them did he
like. As he stood there, desperately trying to rein in his
passions, she chose that moment to clear her throat. The
sound drew his attention to the slender column of her neck,
and he imagined his tongue dancing softly over the delicate
area. Derrick mentally shook himself, remembering what he
was about and wondering what the devil had gotten into him,
fantasizing like an untried youth.
“You could have been seriously hurt. Are you alright?”
He took a step forward, hoping she'd wish for comfort, but
stopped when he realized she had gone rigid.
“I'm quite well, thank you, but hold your ground, sir. Do
not come any closer.” She warned.
"I thought we had dispensed with the formalities,
Kristen." Derrick said, amused at her gall under the
circumstances.
"Given the situation, can you blame me?"
Derrick glanced around. His men had slowly made their
way forward, with the intent of trapping her, but she had not
been unaware of that, even as he stood there fantasizing
about her. He was reminded of her nonchalant address of
their marriage contract, and realized one of the objections he
had was that she did not seem to be interested in him, but
rather the notion of marriage. The fact that he stood there
desperately trying not to take her on the cave floor with his
men watching, while she was merely occupied with her
escape plans infuriated him all the more. She was a most
vexing woman!
“Madam, do be assured that no harm shall befall you in
my care; however, you are the one who has been in these
caves the last fortnight, are you not?”
For Kristen, that smile of his would be her undoing if
she weren't careful. She felt her knees grow weak yet again.
“And what of it? These caves belong to no one. I have
the right to come and go as I please.” She lifted her chin a
notch and straightened her spine.
Kristen found it difficult to think rationally with him in the
same room, and she was afraid she would lose all sense if he
came any closer. With so many men surrounding her, she was
nervous enough, and it did nothing to relieve her fear of not
making it out of that cave. But, all that aside, Derrick disturbed
her peace the most. Since coming into contact with him, she
had encountered several emotions she couldn't explain. It hurt
that he had rejected her earlier, but she had accepted it and
moved on. His coming to her rescue did not help all of the
emotions she'd gone through that day, and frankly, she was
too tired to deal with it just now.
"To be sure, but you've stumbled upon something you
shouldn't have, Kristen. I need to know whom you've told
about this cave."
"Sir, discretion is of the utmost importance to me now. I
have no wish for anyone to know where I am, therefore, I have
not told anyone of this place. We have a common interest in
that respect, so it seems perfectly reasonable then that you
should let me pass.”
For reasons that Derrick didn't want to think about too
closely, her response angered him. Was she meeting a lover?
If so, would she agree to be his mistress? And, where the
devil had that thought come from, he wondered? He already
had one mistress, and she was more of an annoyance than
anything. Besides, he'd already told this woman he wasn't
interested, and she had made her intentions rather clear. But,
the thought of this woman meeting another man distressed
him more than he cared to admit, which was a feeling he didn't
understand at all.
"Dammit, Kristen! Will you please stop with the
formalities?" He snapped.
Kristen lifted a questioning brow but remained silent. It
made Derrick feel like an idiot for his outburst, which rubbed
his already frazzled nerves the wrong way. He took a
threatening step toward her, hoping to gain ground with her
stepping back. It was an awful thing for any gentleman to do to
a lady, but where she was concerned, he just couldn't help
himself. But, to his surprise, she stood her ground, just as
she'd done twice before. Very few men he knew could say the
same.
Come to think of it, few men could say they'd endured
half of what she had and not crumbled, yet there she stood,
battered, but certainly not broken. He was quite certain she
was extraordinarily unusual. For Derrick, it was like a poker
stirring the fire. He felt the need to take her then and there,
willing or not, as if he were still a clumsy youth without control
over his passions. In those few tense moments, Derrick
wondered what marriage might be like with her. Interesting to
be sure, just as Scott predicted.
Derrick pulled his train of thoughts away from that
subject. It wasn't going to happen, so there was no sense in
torturing himself about it. It wasn't that he didn't want to get
married, it was just that his family situation made that
impossible, so he didn't bother trying. His younger brother
Oliver had tried once and that didn't go so well for him. But,
Derrick had never found himself in the company of a woman
that caused him to wish things could be different, and it wasn't
helping his already foul mood.
Chapter 5