Love Me With Fury (20 page)

“To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light.”
—“Rape of Lucrece,” William Shakespeare

“To do a great right, do a little wrong.”
—
Merchant of Venice,
William Shakespeare

The petrifying feeling of having lived through this before plagued Alex during the lengthy silence which followed the last shouts and gunfire. When the door finally opened, she dreaded to see who would enter. Relief and joy flooded her as Stephen and his best friend strolled in as calmly as if just coming from lunch! Nerves tingling, she waited for him to release her.

“Untie her, Andy,” the pirate nonchalantly ordered, then glaneed her way as he added, “I’ve agreed to ransom you to that persistent English captain in exchange for letting us sail away. I’m to put you in a small boat as soon as we’re out of their range. I told him you were a highborn English lady and he bought it,” he stated.

In her state of shock, Alex didn’t see the look of astonished amusement which flickered over Andrew Pennington’s face at his friend’s cruel joke. “There you go, miss,” Andy murmured as he completed his
task, smiling down at her.

“What if it isn’t safe?” she protested, ignoring Andy.

“They’re English and so are you. You wanted to go home, so here’s your chance,” he coldly announced.

“I doubt warships will be heading home so soon! With you at sea, I’m safer here!” she exclaimed.

“You’re wrong, my fetching tart,” he argued.

Before Spencer or Andy comprehended her intentions, Alex had rushed forward and slapped Spencer across the face. Assuming she was about to throw herself into his arms in relief and gratitude, he was taken by complete surprise. The blow sent a loud popping noise into the silent room just as she screamed at him, “You black-hearted demon! How dare you trade me like some war booty! I won’t go!” she defiantly shrieked, stomping her foot, green eyes sparkling in obstinance.

Unable to prevent his instinctive response, he cursed aloud, “You vicious bitch!” and returned the blow with a stunning force which sent Alex staggering backwards to fall upon the bed. Andy inhaled sharply and took several steps forward to come to her aid, but quickly controlled the impulse. He was stunned by the actions of both people. Embarrassed, he hastily dismissed himself and fled the room, ignorant of what to say or do.

As she rubbed her smarting cheek, Alex gaped at Stephen in disbelief and fear. She pushed herself to a sitting position. “Thank you, Captain Steele. This should certainly convince them of my enforced
imprisonment,” she acidly announced, indicating the flaming cheek. “May I leave now?”

He came forward as if stalking her like some helpless prey. “On my ship, everyone obeys my orders. You will come and go as I say. Do you comprehend, Angelique?” he stormed, angered that she had caused him to strike her.

“I did ask permission, sir,” she sneered. “I take it a truce of sorts is also viewed as a victory?” she sarcastically inquired, eyes blazing with fury and hatred.

“I was only teasing you. The battle was won by my cunning and skill. I sent those ships scurrying to doctor their wounds!”

Her eyes widened as his words hit her. “Then why did you send these clothes and have me bound?”

“When I saw how long the battle would take, I was afraid you might get reckless and come on deck. I did it for your protection. I would let them sink me before giving quarter! But the day hasn’t come when some measly English frigate can out-maneuver or outwit my ship.”

“You hateful bastard! That was mean and spiteful. You said to remain here, and I would have! I’m not an idiot!”

He charged the remaining distance between them and seized her arm, yanking her to her feet. “One more crude word from those pretty lips and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap! Be satisfied I spared your life and reputation. But if you ever strike me again, woman…” He glared at her, the need to complete his
ominous warning unnecessary from the look on her face and the quivering in her body. “If anyone besides Andy had witnessed that rash conduct, I would flog you with the cat-of-nine-tails to make an example of you,” he gritted out another warning.

“Just take me home as quickly as possible and our problems will be solved. And save your lousy jokes for someone else!” she retorted.

“One more outburst like that, and you won’t ever be going home,” he added to wipe the sneer from her rebellious face.

Cautioning herself to patience and a milder manner with this dangerous man, Alex replied, “I couldn’t help myself, Stephen. You frightened me. All that time I didn’t know what was going on, then you waltzed in here and said you’ve traded me for your ship and freedom. What did you expect?”

“I expected you to be overjoyed at that news! Not attack me as if I had betrayed you! Damnit, woman, you’re the one who said you didn’t want to stay with me!” he snarled.

“I can’t stay with you! Besides being dangerous, it isn’t good for either of us,” she argued wretchedly. “How long could I have withstood their badgering questions and demands for your identity?” She abruptly asked, “What day is this?”

He eyed her strangely. “Why?”

“What day is it?” she demanded again.

“June twentieth. Why?” he repeated, witnessing the distressed look on her face.

“How soon before we reach the first English port?”
she questioned, ignoring his demands and curiosity.

“Why is the date so important?” he snarled in rising annoyance. “Afraid you’ll miss your joyous wedding?”

“The Americans were going to declare war on June eighteenth. I must get home as promptly as possible. My father doesn’t know yet.”

“How would you know when Congress was voting for war?” he inquired suspiciously. “Why would your father be interested in that news?”

“I heard some men talking about it. That’s why I left America in such a hurry. My father’s business will be affected by a new war, so I need to tell him soon,” she explained only briefly, serving to further intrigue him.

“What kind of business?” he demanded.

“I can’t tell you. How soon can you get me home?” she pressed.

“Right after you answer my questions,” he calmly replied.

“I can’t. You promised to see me safely home,” she reminded him. “You said you were a man of your word.”

“The answers first,” he refused to budge.

“That wasn’t in our original deal, Captain. Why are you so interested in the war? You’re a pirate, not an American.”

“A war will naturally affect me and my business,” he lied smoothly. “Besides, I have friends and family in America, as well as valuable property. So, you might say I’m an American,” he stated.

“I thought you English. I fail to understand how a man who was born English could side with America. I believed you Americans a unique breed of man who hungered and fought for freedom, but you constantly tempt my country to destroy you.”

“England will not devastate America, love. She’s well established and strengthened now. I propose to side with the imminent victor when the time comes to take a stand.”

“You feel their cause is just?” she questioned sincerely.

Was this radiant creature trying to trap him? Did she suspect the truth about him? He had better be careful!

He craftily lightened the subject, “What would a beautiful, carefree lass know about the hunger for freedom?”

“I know the loss of it can be like a disease eating away inside of you until you’ll risk or do anything to regain it. Not wishing to sound treasonous, but no country—including mine—has the right to imprison or oppress others.”

The bitterness and anguish in her tone confused him. She spoke like she knew from experience what she was saying, not just reasoning aloud. “I hate to agree with you, Captain Steele, but I think you’ve selected the winning side. After what I saw and felt in America, I believe she will win her struggle against my country. Considering my country’s history, I hope she does; I only pray it is over quickly,” she wistfully stated.

“What vital business could a peasant girl’s father have?” he asked again, intrigued.

“Peasant girl?” she echoed, then smiled at something which had amused her. “Farmers supply food for soldiers and lumber for ships,” she craftily speculated aloud. “Two of the suitors Papa was studying are ship captains. When we go to war, they’ll be out of the running for a long time. If fate shines on me, I could turn out to be a wealthy widow. Who knows, one of them could be the victor over Joshua Steele and return home a hero. It wouldn’t be too bad to be married to a national hero,” she taunted him.

“If you wed an English captain, you’ll certainly wind up a widow, love,” he smugly and tersely concluded.

“Then make haste, Captain, before I lose this valuable opportunity,” she entreated with feigned eagerness.

“Why do I get the feeling that isn’t the real reason for your rush? I doubt a war will be of any surprise to your papa. England’s been begging for it for years.”

She drew herself up indignantly. “The Americans started it first! They rebelled against the Crown. They declared war, not us.”

He laughed at her. “You need a few lessons in history, love. Your country’s the aggressor and always has been. Didn’t you learn anything in America?” he teased, watching her closely.

“Yes! They do have just charges, but I’m still English. You sound more like an American than a pirate!” she rationalized.

“Would that be so terrible?” he mocked her distress.

“It is surely better than a bloody pirate! Will you tell…”

Before she could complete her next question, the signal was given once more. “Another attack?” she fearfully inquired, tensing in new dread.

“Your English navy is spoiling for fights today,” he scornfully growled. “You know the routine; stay here and remain quiet. Agreed?”

She saluted him to break her tension as she murmured, “Yes, Captain Steele.”

Irritation flickered over his handsome features. “I’m serious, Angel.”

“I know, Stephen,” she replied softly, wanting to embrace him and warn him to be careful. But she did neither.

He left her standing there in pensive silence. This time, there was no cannon fire. The waiting seemed endless. An unfamiliar man brought her some food and lit the lanterns in the cabin to dispel the gathering shadows of late evening.

“What’s happening? I haven’t heard anything,” Alex anxiously pressed the roughly dressed, middle-aged man.

He pointed to his mouth and shook his head, indicating he was mute. She tried another approach, “Is there going to be another attack?”

He shook his head. “The ship was friendly or sailed on by?” she probed for more information. He nodded to her first question. “They’re talking?” Again, he
nodded yes. She sighed in relief and sat down to eat, suddenly ravenous.

As time slipped by, she could hear singing and talking. It was evident the men were having a carefree time. She sighed in loneliness and despair. Home was beginning to look good to her. The tension of these past few days was working upon her nerves. Alex longed to walk across open meadows and smell the fragrance of the wildflowers, she wanted to hear the singing of the birds. She hungered to ride her horse over dales and hills with the wind stealing her breath. And, she wanted to see her father. She needed to relax and feel safe once more, no matter the price.

She took Spencer’s book to the bed and propped upon the pillows to read. She was too keyed up to sleep. What was taking so long? Was he celebrating his recent victory with the other ship captain? Were they plotting some joint attack upon other unsuspecting ships from her country? Her eyes becoming fatigued, she lay the book upon her stomach and rested for a few moments. Then, she absently flipped to the front page to study the inscription once more.

Thinking her asleep by this time, Spencer eased the door open and came inside. Already near a stormy rage following his meeting with Captain Morris about Madison needing to see him immediately, his eyes darkened in anger as he noted the book and page which had her attention. Irrationally venting his pent-up fury on the innocent Alex, he came forward and snatched it from her grasp. “Don’t ever touch this book again! Why aren’t you asleep? It’s late!”
Witnessing the height of his irritation and anger, her voice trembled as she said, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t mean any harm. What does the ‘F’ stand for?” she boldly asked, knowing he knew she had seen it.

“None of your business!” he fiercely exploded. “It belonged to a close friend of mine; he’s dead now,” he scathingly dismissed her curiosity, glaring at her to instill fear and silence, but failing to do so.

She dared to ask, “What ship was that?”

“A fellow privateer,” he responded, but she felt he was lying. “I see you couldn’t get to sleep with me gone,” he murmured, his tone softening at the look of anxiety upon her ashen face.

“If you had bothered to send word we weren’t in danger of attack, I could have! Don’t you ever think of anyone besides yourself?”

“A captain is only concerned with his ship, his crew, and his friends,” he indifferently answered, waving his hand in mid-air, dismissing the subject.

“For the present, I am one of your crew,” she asserted. “I would appreciate a little consideration.”

He gave her a mocking bow and murmured, “Yes ma’am. And what consideration would you like first?”

Her eyes glittered with fury at his taunting manner, and for once, she was at a loss for words.

Spencer began to slip out of his clothes.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked in dismay as she watched his knee boots hit the floor, then his pants and shirt follow them.

“Getting ready for bed,” he replied lazily.

“Here?” she questioned in rising alarm.

“Where else? This is my cabin.” He picked up his clothes and lay them across a wooden chair, then placed his boots next to it.

“But what about me? Where will I sleep?”

He halted briefly to stare at her. She was serious. “Here with me.”

“Surely you jest!” she squealed in panic. They had made love several times, but sleep together like… She swallowed with difficulty at that idea.