The Pirate and the Puritan (38 page)

During the coach ride toward
Bridgetown, she guessed, they continued their mutual silence. For once, her
healthy curiosity abdicated to common sense. Even if she asked where he planned
to take her, she feared he’d only tell her a frighteningly twisted version of
the truth. She couldn’t afford to lose her wits. Each day of her confinement
had been a test of will. She knew the duke hoped time would break her spirit
and force her to condemn Drew.

The Duke of Foxmoor gave no
outward sign that he still expected her cooperation. He alternated between
ignoring her and studying her with humorous speculation. When they stopped in
front of the prison, she assumed he’d grown tired of waiting for Drew’s
attempted rescue and planned to put her in a cell next to her father. She had
no opposition to the arrangement. If she were closer to her father, it would be
easier for Drew to rescue them both.

After the duke made his exit with
the help of his footman, Felicity stepped down from the coach. Her father stood
in the street outside the prison. He blinked and squinted as his eyes adjusted
to the light, but otherwise he appeared unharmed. When she ran to his side, the
guards by the prison doors showed no interest in stopping her. She hugged him,
forcing herself not to grimace at the ripe scent he’d gained during his
incarceration.

“Are you ill?” She stood away
from him and looked him over, trying to discern the cause of his release.

He breathed deeply and rubbed his
deflated belly. “I’m fine. I never noticed how sweet the Barbados breeze is
before.”

She turned to find the duke
tilting his head in mock admiration of their reunion. “Touching. It warms my
heart to be the instrument that unites a father with his child.”

Foxmoor’s obviously happy mood
ruined her pleasure at seeing her father released. Something was very wrong. “I
don’t understand.”

The duke shrugged. “You’re free
to go. You both claimed your innocence and I have decided to believe you.
There’s no further reason to hold either one of you.”

A chill settled around Felicity’s
heart. “If you kill us,
El Diablo
will hunt you down…”

He laughed. “You seem to think
highly of your value as a bedmate. Maybe you’re right. At least your champion
is willing to trade his life for yours, but he won’t be hunting anyone down
ever again.”

Before she could ask him to
explain, a regiment of boots hitting cobblestones forced her attention in the
direction of the docks. A group of soldiers marched toward them. Red coats
flanked a prisoner who stumbled to keep up with the soldiers’ lively gait. As
they neared, Felicity recognized Drew. Chains on his hands and feet awkwardly
shortened his stride.

She would have run to him if her
father had not stopped her.

The duke laughed again. “Let her
go, old man. I can’t wait to see Miss Kendall grovel for her lover’s release.
It will be so romantic.”

Her father whispered near her
ear. “Keep your temper under control. Don’t make it worse for Drew.”

She nodded. Her father released
his grip on her arm slowly, as if he expected her to change her mind at any
minute and bolt for Drew. She stood straight, swallowing the lump in her
throat.

Despite his chains, Drew looked
every bit the dangerous pirate. His hair was loose and windblown—the set of his
jaw defiant. He stared straight ahead. She didn’t avert her gaze from him on
the chance he might look her way. She had to find a way to tell him how sorry
she was, even if it was only in a pleading glance.

Admiral Meldrick himself, mounted
atop a white stallion as crisp as his uniform, led the brigade of soldiers
needed to escort one prisoner. “Here he is, Your Grace. Walked right up on the
beach like his note promised.”

Drew’s rebellious glance swung to
the duke. Felicity wondered if he found it any easier to take once he realized
that his father wasn’t the one who betrayed him. His fierce expression gave
nothing away, but Felicity swore she saw something in the depths of his eyes
flare with recognition as he gazed upon his brother—and worse, understanding.

The duke looked Drew over with
obvious disdain. “Doesn’t seem very repentant, does he?”

Drew was the same height as his
brother, but Drew appeared to loom over the thinner man. Chains rattled as Drew
strained against them to lean toward his accuser. The duke stepped back, then
straightened, as if he’d caught himself in the telling act. “Do you have your
prisoner under control, Meldrick?”

Meldrick dismounted, then pushed
aside the soldier standing next to Drew. Felicity had not noticed the shackle
around Drew’s neck until Meldrick yanked the chain connected to it. Drew jerked
forward but didn’t drop his gaze. Meldrick yanked again. “Lower your eyes
before your betters, swine, or I’ll have you whipped.”

Felicity closed her eyes. She
wanted to intervene but feared anything she said would encourage the duke to
carry out Meldrick’s threat. The sound of Drew’s deep voice made her swiftly
open her eyes.

“Do what you want. You’re going
to kill me anyway.”

“No!” she called out before she
could stop herself. Drew didn’t acknowledge her outburst, but he tensed
visibly.

The duke appeared to notice
Drew’s reaction, because he stepped forward and smiled. “Looks as if your whore
doesn’t want to have you tortured before your execution, so why don’t you
behave?”

Drew relaxed against his bonds
but still stared indignantly at the duke. “She means nothing to me.”

“Of course not. But you seem to
have won her over. Some women enjoy being brutalized. Perhaps we should arrange
a display with the soldiers to see if my theory holds true.” The Duke of
Foxmoor clasped his hands behind his back and smiled pleasantly.

Felicity’s father nudged her
behind him. She watched over his shoulder but remained silent. Despite his
chains and being out numbered twenty to one, Drew’s thinly veiled fury would
surely erupt if anyone laid a hand on her. But the duke probably counted on
that. She wasn’t prepared to watch Drew die. As long as she drew breath, that
time would never come.

Admiral Meldrick cleared his
throat “I don’t think we need to threaten Mistress—”

“Shut up. I’m in charge here,”
interrupted the duke.

Drew lowered his gaze and hung
his head. The display confirmed her fears concerning the Duke of Foxmoor’s
power. She didn’t think his threat idle, and by his submission, neither did
Drew.

“Now that we all understand each
other, you may show the prisoner his cell. I want his written confession by
dusk.” The duke waved a lace handkerchief in the air as if he were swatting
flies, dismissing everyone.

Meldrick shoved Drew in the
direction of the gaol. He didn’t look up again. The duke disappeared into his
carriage as Drew descended into the darkness.

With an arm around her shoulders,
her father guided her away from the prison. “What shall we do?”

“Get him out, of course, but
first I need to enlist someone’s help.”

When the feint glow from a torch
reached the dirt floor of his cell, Drew didn’t glance up to see who
approached. He’d stopped reacting, stopped thinking, stopped eating and stopped
sleeping. Though the hour hovered between dusk and dawn, he felt no compulsion
to close his eyes.

After he’d given his statement,
denying any relation to the Duke of Foxmoor and his family, Drew as he knew
himself stopped existing. His father was no doubt celebrating in his heavenly
mansion. Drew would have laughed if he still had the will. Funny that he would
think that his father went to heaven, and funnier still that Drew had
experienced the news of his passing as an unexpected blow.

To his utter surprise, Drew
wasn’t any wiser than his mother. Tucked away in a place he hadn’t known
existed had been an ember of hope that he’d someday know the man whose likeness
he bore. Drew should thank his brother for snuffing that useless spark completely,
along with every other hope he’d been foolish enough to have.

Once he’d confessed to all the
crimes attributed to
El Diablo
—even the ones he hadn’t committed—and
exonerated Felicity and Ben of any association to his evil deeds, his life had
no other purpose. His death would provide those he cared about with release
from their associations with him.

“Be as quiet as possible. I’ll be
back for you in an hour. Are you sure you want me to lock you in the cell with
him?” said a voice Drew didn’t recognize or have any interest in.

“I’ll be perfectly safe, but I
don’t want you to get into trouble. I can find my own way out. If you leave me
the key, you won’t have to come back.”

Drew jerked up his head at the
sound of the voice that rang in his nightmares. In every horrid dream, she told
him to go when all he wanted to do was stay in her arms forever. But this was
no dream; it was worse.

An adolescent soldier in a red
coat shook his head at Felicity. “No, ma’am. I’ll be more than in trouble if
you let your husband go. I told you I felt bad watching you cry after you
visited your pa, but I’m not ready to die because you’re being mistreated.”

She touched the arm of the young
man opening the cell door. “Thank you for helping me. I promise no one will
know I was here.”

Drew stood. The easy exchange
between them made him furious. He had no idea he could still feel anything so
strong.

He moved toward her before he
remembered he was chained to the wall. The soldier’s eyes widened when Drew
accidentally rattled his bonds. The young man unlocked the cell door and
ushered Felicity inside while keeping the metal grate between them. After the
cell was securely locked once again, the soldier hurried away, taking the light
with him.

Felicity stayed in the shadows,
just outside his reach. He didn’t realize he’d said her name until she rushed
to him.

“I’m here.” She touched his face
and rubbed her thumb over his mouth. “Have they hurt you?”

He parted his lips, brushing her
thumb with his tongue. She tasted warm and clean. He raised his arms to wrap
them around her, wanting her molded against him. The chain binding his hands to
his feet stopped him. The reminder brought him instantly to his senses.

He jerked his head away from her
touch. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

She let her hands drop to her
sides. “I don’t blame you for being angry—”

“Answer my question. Your British
friends have already gotten my confession. What else do they want?”

She winced at his accusation. “I
talked that young soldier into letting me see you. I told him we were married
and we had to keep it a secret.”

He balled his hands into fists.
She was determined to ruin the one good thing he’d ever done in his life.

“Are you crazy, or just that
damned vindictive? I told them you and your father weren’t involved, and now
you go and tell them we’re married? Christ!”

“He won’t tell anyone. I had to
see you.”

“What did you do to gain such
undying devotion? Threaten him with a pistol, perhaps?”

She tried to touch him. “Please.
Just listen to me.”

He jerked away, but the shackles
that bit into his skin reminded him that his options for movement were limited.
Feigned detachment provided his only means of escape, a talent he’d all but
lost since meeting Felicity. He leaned against the wall he was bound to, hating
her seeing him chained like an animal.

“Why? So you can gloat?”

“I didn’t try to shoot you. I
swear. I shot the marksman behind you. That’s why the British wanted to hang me
as your accomplice.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Oh, but
it did. She hadn’t tried to kill him. She had saved him. The idea might make
him think he had something to live for. He had to do everything he could to
keep the dangerous thought at bay. “Get out. I don’t want you here.”

She inched toward him. “I can’t
leave. I’m locked in until the soldier comes back. I came here to tell you
something, and I won’t leave until I do.”

“So tell me.”

She moved a little closer. In the
dim light that drifted from the night sky outside the stone jail, she met his
hard glare with pleading in her soft brown eyes. “I love you.”

He tried to shut out the
sincerity in her wet gaze by closing his eyes. In spite of his efforts, warmth
spread through his chest. It was happening. He wanted to live.
“Felicity…don’t.”

When he felt her lean against
him, he opened his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, then she kissed his
cheek. He meant to tell her to stop, but his words came out as a moan. She
found his mouth with her own. The soft brush of her tentative kiss broke his
restraint. He took her with his tongue as he longed to do with his body.

He pulled his mouth away from the
intoxicating pleasure to kiss the vulnerable skin under her jaw. “I’ve missed
you.”

Her hips were within his
restricted grasp. He pulled her roughly to him and pressed himself into her
lush contours. The sensation teased. He had to have more. “I want you.”

She responded to his abandon with
her own urgency. She unlaced the top of his shirt and slid her fingers over his
skin. “You don’t know how many times I dreamed of touching you again.”

He grabbed the material of her
skirt and balled handfuls of the cloth in his fist until he had it raised
enough to caress her bare thigh. She yanked her skirts higher, holding them so
he could touch her with both his hands. He cupped her round bottom and bent his
knees, rocking against the apex of her thighs in sweet torture. Her welcoming
heat radiated through his clothes. It was his last coherent thought.

In one swift motion, he lifted
her and swung her until her back rested against the stone wall. The part of his
mind he was no longer in control over straddled the thick chain anchoring him
to the wall, while maintaining his balance with his limited movements. He held
her against the wall with his weight and attacked the tie on his breeches.