The Pirate's Desire (28 page)

Lucinda paced
the hall, biting her lip. She could hear nothing. She’d tried to press her ear to the door, but had heard only a low rumble of hard, unfriendly voices.

Unexpectedly, the door wrenched open and Jonathon stalked out. “I will tell
all
of London,” he snarled over his shoulder.

Riel appeared in the doorway. His tanned face looked pale. “Tell whomever you wish. It’s old business, and settled long ago.”

Jonathon whirled on him. “I will tell Lucinda.”

If possible, Riel grew paler still, and his hand clenched the door frame. “Tell her,” he said in a low, rough voice.

“I will.” Jonathon turned to her.

Lucinda’s gaze flickered between them. A horrible, sick feeling swelled within her. All of a sudden, she did not want to hear what Jonathon had to say.

She licked her lips. “Wait. I do not…”

Jonathon gripped her arm. It hurt. “You
must
listen. You must learn what manner of man your guardian is. Then you can decide if he’s worthy of your respect.”

“You’re hurting me,” Lucinda said faintly.

“Sorry.” Jonathon removed his hand. “But the truth must be aired now.” His green eyes looked like frozen chips of ice. The hostile glance he sent Riel glittered with cruel triumph.

Riel stood like a statue in the doorway. He said nothing to discourage Jonathon’s proclamations.

Lucinda didn’t
want
to know what Jonathon was talking about, and yet she had to know. If Jonathon knew an important truth about Riel—important enough that he insist she listen—shouldn’t she discover what it was?

With apprehension, she said, “What…what is it, then?”

“Perhaps you should sit down.”

“No.” Lucinda’s mouth felt dry. “Tell me now, please.”

“Very well.” Jonathon glanced at Riel, but made no effort to hide the anger and the glee in that one hard look. “I’ve said several times that I thought I remembered Montclair. I could not remember from where, though, for the life of me. And then, last night, after watching that brawl between Fredrick and Fenwick over Amelia, the feeling became stronger. This afternoon, after a short nap, the memory finally snapped free. I saw him thirteen years ago in Tangier, Morocco. Aboard the British Naval frigate,
HMS Endurance.
”

Lucinda glanced at Riel. “I didn’t know you were in the Navy.”

“He wasn’t,” Jonathon interjected. “He was on trial, and my father was the judge. I came with him to work that day. I heard the charges against Montclair, and he confessed to his crime. Murder.”

Lucinda’s mouth fell open. “
Murder!
No.”

“Yes. He killed a man and he should have swung. Some pansy Captain of the Royal Navy took pity on him and got him off, more’s the pity. Captain…”

“Hastings,” Riel said quietly.

Lucinda’s gaze shot to his. “
Father
set you free?”

“I didn’t deserve freedom.”

“So it’s
true?
”

“Yes,” he said flatly.

She couldn’t believe it. She staggered back a step. Instantly, Jonathon cupped her elbow and led her to a nearby bench.

Lucinda, however, could not remove her eyes from Riel. “You
murdered
someone?”

He said nothing; just watched her, his face devoid of expression.

“You killed someone,” she whispered. Lucinda’s world began to crumble. The stones of their relationship, so carefully built, collapsed about her, one after another. Trust in Riel. Respect. Hero worship, from time to time. Love.

A sob choked her throat. From the beginning, she had suspected he harbored a dark secret. But she’d had no idea how dark or depraved it could be.

Riel was not the man he pretended to be. He never had been. She’d fallen in love with a murderer. A
murderer!

She averted her face, unable to look at him.

“I would like a word with Lucinda,” Jonathon shot over his shoulder, and knelt beside her.

Riel remained where he was, as if frozen to the spot, and said nothing at all. He appeared to be in a state of shock.

“Lucinda.” Jonathon wiped at her tears. “Lucinda, listen to me. See the manner of man your guardian is? He says he wants to protect you from me, but perhaps it is you who needs protection from him.”

Lucinda bit her lip, trying to control her shuddering breaths.

Softly, Jonathon said, “I know this is a shock to you, but listen, you don’t have to remain under his authority. I will rescue you. If you’ll give me your hand in marriage, I will be a devoted husband. You will not regret marrying me for one single day.”

But how could she? Nothing had changed. Riel was still her legal guardian, and he’d forbidden the marriage. Or did Jonathon want her to run away with him?

“I…I do care for you, Jonathon.” But she did not love him. She loved a certain raven-haired pirate. A
murderer
. Again, the devastation of it ripped through her. What a fool. What a fool she was! She’d
known
from the beginning he’d hidden something from her. Yet she’d turned a blind eye to this truth. She’d believed she had been wrong.

And yet she’d been right all along.

The last tiny, illogical hope that she’d nurtured, deep in her heart, that maybe, someday, Riel might want her, vanished. Riel was a murderer. A criminal. And completely unacceptable as a husband.

Anguish suffocated the breath from her lungs. She could never marry him.
Never.

More tangled thoughts tumbled through Lucinda’s head. She had to get him out of her life, and at once. Not only because he was a murderer, but because she loved him. She couldn’t spend another minute with him, or her heart would break, more deeply and painfully every day. So she must marry immediately, so he’d leave immediately. And Jonathon seemed as good a choice for a husband as any.

Jonathan said in a low voice, “Are you all right, Lucinda?”

“Yes.” She drew a shaky breath. “I would be happy to marry you. But how?” she whispered. “Riel still doesn’t approve.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jonathon whispered now, too. “Come away with me. We’ll get a special license. If we’re discovered before the marriage, Riel will have no say in the matter, for we’ll spend a night alone together. Then he’ll have to agree to the marriage.”

This plan made complete sense to Lucinda. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Riel finally move out of the study doorway. She could not look at him. She felt sick inside, as if someone had dug out her heart and left her alone to bleed and die. “Yes.” She licked her lips. “When should we go?”

* * * * *

Riel felt uneasy as he readied for bed that night. What a hellish evening. Earlier, at dinner, Lucy’s blue eyes had flashed fire when she’d insisted she wanted to marry Jonathon. The pain of that wrenched through him again, but it meant little compared to what had happened later.

Lucy had finally learned he was a murderer.

Again and again, the shock and horror in her eyes damned Riel to the darkest pit of hell. She’d barely looked at him after that. But she’d spoken plenty to Jonathon.

Lucy had retired to bed the instant Jonathon left, and that fact raised Riel’s suspicions, too. His gut told him something was wrong—besides Lucy hating him with all of her heart now. But what?

Riel stayed up until midnight with the half-formed idea that she might try to sneak out. If so, he’d stay up and catch her. It didn’t happen.

Where would she go if she did? And with whom?

Jonathon. Tension gripped Riel’s heart now, as it had ever since Lucy discovered the truth, and she and the Duke had whispered together afterward.

He stripped off his jacket and hung it over the chair back. He wouldn’t put it past Jonathon to formulate a plan to make Lucy his own. Then Riel would no longer hold authority over her life. She would be at the mercy of that viper.

Frustrated, Riel sat down hard and yanked off his boot. If only he possessed proof that Jonathon was a two-faced weasel. Of the very same stock as his brother.

Riel’s fists clenched hard, remembering the self-satisfied sneer Jonathon had sent him before exiting this evening. Riel had wanted to cuff him then, and longed to punch him now.

Fury simmered through his veins like a hot, mindless song. He had succumbed to its seduction long ago. He would not now. This time, he’d keep a level head. Riel would find out what Lucy plotted. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

Riel pulled off his other boot and chucked it to the ground.

Suddenly he was on his feet, striding for the door. He had to make sure Lucy was all right. Deep in his gut, he felt that something was wrong. Once upon a time, he had failed to listen. This time he would not ignore it. He’d check and make sure she was still there. And if he woke her up, better yet. They could talk tonight.

Riel ignored the civilized whisper that said it was improper for a man to enter a woman’s room while she slept. His other half—his barbaric half—would not listen. By all that was holy, Riel told himself, he was her guardian, and he would make sure she was safe.

He rapped once on her door.

Silence.

Of course. She was asleep. He’d look in, just to make sure, and relieve the knot of unease in his chest.

Riel pushed open the door. As his eyes adjusted to the dim room he saw Lucy’s bed, and the lump upon it. So, she was there.

Riel never knew what made him stride over and twitch back the bedclothes. A corner of a pillow peeked out. For a second, he couldn’t believe his eyes, and then, with one savage jerk, he ripped off the entire quilt.

Gone! Lucy was gone.

Lucinda’s heart
pounded
after her nocturnal climb down the trellis outside her window. Jonathon waited for her below, his arms open to catch her if she fell. Of course, she didn’t.

Jonathon had already caught the valise she’d tossed down to him.

Lucinda cast a backward glance at her guardian’s townhouse, which lay silent and dark, except for a light in the study. Riel was still up, but unaware she’d finally escaped from him at last. After tonight, she would be freed from him forever.

Once, that had been her dearest wish. But no more. Tears ached in Lucinda’s throat at the impossibility of it all, but she swallowed them back.

A few hours earlier, she’d almost abandoned her impulsive plan to marry Jonathon. Once the shock of learning the truth had worn off, she’d at last thought of Sophie. How could she possibly leave her dear friend now, while Sophie fought for her life? She could not. Then Lucinda realized she could come back and spend as much time with Sophie as she wanted, after she married Jonathon. Jonathon wouldn’t mind.

Somehow, Lucinda would manage the pain of seeing Riel during that time, too. She could not leave bear to leave Sophie during her remaining days or weeks; not for longer than this one night. And she had no intention of doing so, either.

“Come,” Jonathon urged, tugging at her hand, and with one final look at Riel’s house, Lucinda ran after him to the waiting carriage.

Heart beating rapidly, she settled into Jonathon’s carriage. It seemed surreal that she was on her own. Unfettered. Free finally to make all of her own choices. Free of Riel.

A hot tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly dashed it away. She’d made the right choice. Now her fate rested in Jonathon’s hands. He was a true, civilized gentleman.

She’d made the right choice.

Jonathon sat silently, too, as the carriage rolled through the dim London streets. Perhaps he was tired. It was late. Lucinda didn’t feel much like talking, either.

“Where are we going?” she ventured after a little while.

“The Drury Inn, on the edge of town. I’ve arranged the special license, and we can be married tomorrow.” It was hard to hear Jonathon’s voice, and an odd timbre seemed to resonate through it. Lucinda dismissed the thought. The carriage was small, and the cobbles of the street outside magnified noises, distorting all normal perception of sound.

Jonathon did not seem to want to talk, so Lucinda fell silent, too. Her heart felt heavy, and she struggled not to think about Riel. She peered out the window at the dark, gloomy streets of London. Depression licked through her spirit. She remembered the girls who had been left to wander the streets alone, after being attacked by that madman rapist. She shivered. How lonely it must have been for them. How horrifying.

“Are you cold?” Jonathon’s voice came out of the darkness. “I have a rug if you need it.”

“No. I’m fine. Thank you.” Some part of Lucinda’s mind wondered why Jonathon made no move to sit beside her…although in truth she didn’t care. Maybe he believed it
would be
improper, since they weren’t married yet. And Jonathon was every inch the gentleman. He would pursue the honorable path until their vows were said.

She turned her eyes away from the black, vaguely menacing streets of this unfamiliar section of London. Clasping her hands in her lap, Lucinda drew a quiet breath to settle her nerves.

I’m doing the right thing,
she told herself again. Riel would not charge after her and interrupt her plans. By morning, when he realized she was gone, she and Jonathon would be married.

So then why did she feel so nervous and unsettled?

Perhaps because it was so late, and dark. And while she was with familiar Jonathon, the dark carriage was foreign, and so was the inn they approached. And the future stretched out, a dark unknown as well.

Lucinda forced her mind to positive thoughts. Of course, the inn would be of the highest caliber. Of this, she had no doubt. Perhaps once she entered her room and slipped into slumber on her comfortable bed she would feel better.

Yes. That’s all she needed. But her heart told her that nothing would make her happy except for Riel. Yet how could he ever provide happiness for her? He was a murderer. Again, the knowledge choked her. Lucinda struggled to push it from her mind.

After long minutes, the carriage finally rolled to a halt.

“My lord.” The driver opened the door. Jonathon jumped down, and took her hand to help her out.

It was too dark to make out much of the Drury Inn. But it looked like a solid structure, and a lamp burned in one window. She followed Jonathon inside. The driver carried their luggage behind them.

Once indoors, her spirits perked up slightly. At least fresh flowers festooned the check-in counter, and lace curtains bedecked the windows.

The large innkeeper looked a bit surly, though. The bald man shoved the book toward Jonathon to sign.

“Is the room prepared as I ordered?” Jonathon asked.

“Yeah.” The man flicked Lucinda a beady glance. “Up the stairs, second door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

Room? Had Lucinda misheard? Perhaps it was a suite of rooms. Keeping quiet, she followed Jonathon upstairs, and he unlocked the door.

Lucinda’s steps faltered in the doorway. It was not a suite of rooms. It was
one
room, with a massive four-poster bed smack in the center. A fire, flanked by two wing chairs, burned in the hearth. Apprehension uncurled within her.

She waited until the driver deposited their bags and exited before speaking. “Jonathon? We’re not married yet. What is the meaning of this?”

“You trust me, don’t you, love?”

After a moment, she said, “Yes.”

Jonathon smiled. “To forestall your guardian’s attempts to tear us asunder before we are wed, it must look as though you have been compromised this night.” He pulled off his gloves and placed them on the dresser.

Lucinda’s heart beat faster. “I understand that, but…”

“Tsk tsk,” Jonathon waved a finger. “I promise I will be a complete gentleman. That chair by the fire will be my bed this eve.”

Lucinda felt a whoosh of relief, followed by uncertain guilt. “But won’t that be uncomfortable?”

“For one night I will survive. I will merely dream of tomorrow.”

Lucinda would not think about tomorrow night. She could not. “But…but how will I dress?”

“I will leave you for a few minutes. Perhaps I’ll take a stroll outside. You are tired and want to rest now, I am sure.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Very well. Let me get a warmer jacket.” Jonathon opened his large valise and pulled out a folded great coat. “Be back soon.” And then he was gone.

Lucinda sat abruptly on the bed. It all seemed like too much, too fast. Was she truly ready to marry Jonathon? It seemed wrong to be here with him. She loved Riel.

But Riel was not the man for her.

This truth didn’t quiet the doubts pummeling her heart. Was she doing the right thing? Or had she made an impulsive decision because she’d been devastated to learn the truth about Riel?

Tears burned in her eyes, and Lucinda bit her lip. She was well rid of him, she reminded herself. More tears formed in her eyes and ached in her throat.

Jonathon was the man for her. He was a Duke. An upstanding gentleman. And at least he was wealthy, so she knew he wasn’t marrying her for her money. He was also handsome, charming…and could have any girl in the world. But he had chosen her. And he was willing to risk scandal to have her. Lucinda should feel honored by the depth of his devotion.

Her heart felt hollow when she thought about Riel again. If she couldn’t have him, any man would do. And Jonathon was better than most.

Lucinda quickly disrobed and pulled on her night rail. Neatly, she packed all her things away. Effie would be proud.

She stood in front of the dresser mirror, and pulled the pins from her hair. A few fell on the dresser, and one bounced into Jonathon’s open bag. While running a brush through her blond tresses, Lucinda slipped her hand into his valise to find the errant pin. It was not on top, so her fingers dug down through his clothing to find it. She felt momentary embarrassment to touch his personal items, but told herself she was being silly. Soon he would be her husband.

Nausea gripped her. She gripped the dresser to steady herself.
Stop it. It is going to turn out fine.

Under control again, she knelt and resumed her search for the pin. Lucinda did not feel the hard, slender pin, but rather silky textures. Curious, she lifted a corner of the garment. A scarf? She pulled it out, and then noticed another one beneath it. Several more lay tucked into the bottom of his valise.

Scarves? Red, yellow, and blue ones. Designs mottled the bright colors. Jonathon had four. What in the world? And then her fingers touched something else entirely. It felt rough and fibrous. Rope. Lucinda pulled out a loop and stared at it. Her heart thumped. Why would Jonathon carry scarves and rope in his bag?

Certainly they weren’t ordinary items for a man to possess.

Only one man might carry such things. Her heart pounded faster as she tried to push the thought away, even as it slid into her mind.

The Silk Scarf Rapist.

But Jonathon could not be that fiend!

Could he?

The doorknob rattled, and Lucinda surged to her feet. It opened. Too late, she realized she still held the red scarf in her hand. Jonathon slipped inside and locked the door behind him.

No sense hiding it. Lucinda had to know the truth. With trembling fingers, she lifted the scarf. “What is this?”

Jonathon turned, and his pleasant expression faltered. His lips thinned. He strode toward her and plucked it from her fingers. Anger shimmered, and his slender fingers suddenly looked bony. His knuckles turned white. “It has nothing to do with you.”

Lucinda felt sick.
He was not denying it
. Could he truly be…the one? Surely she must be flying to ridiculous conclusions. “Why…why do you have scarves in your valise?”

Jonathon shut the case and locked it shut. “They are not for you.” His green eyes glittered, looking dark and unfathomable. And that’s when she knew the truth.

Her voice trembled. “Why not? Will you save them for another girl? Or perhaps for after we are married?”

“It is not what you think. They are gifts.”

Too little, too late. “And the rope? Is that a gift, too?”

Jonathon’s face contorted. “I like you, Lucinda. You are not a part of it, I said.”

Quiet, deadly fear slid into her soul. “I am now,” she whispered.

Jonathon clenched his fists and a visible change came over him. A cold mask shuttered the windows to his soul. “Accept what I’ve told you, or you will leave me no choice.”

Terror curled like tentacles around her heart. “You will rape me?”

“Agree to silence, or I will be forced to do far worse.”

Lucinda gasped.

“Marry me and agree to keep my secret, or…” Jonathon wound the silk scarf around his palms.

Lucinda trembled and wished for her butter knife. She stepped backward. “Why?” she demanded in a shaking voice. “Why would you commit such monstrous deeds? You have everything! A title, wealth, land…and you can have any woman you want. Why…why succumb to such depravity?”

“A man who has easy access to everything becomes bored, Lucinda.” He advanced toward her, the scarf stretched taut between his hands. “The thrill makes the pleasure more…acute.”

Lucinda gasped, and backed up still more. “You are mad! Why…how could you even think of such depravity?”

Jonathon smiled. “My brother was my hero. I have not mentioned him to you, have I?”

“You…you have a brother?”

Jonathon grimaced. “He was murdered. But not before I saw his way with women. I was thirteen, and quite impressionable. It stuck with me, and over the years I have learned how right he was. Forbidden fruit is the sweetest.”

He stood toe to toe with her now, and Lucinda felt the silken scarf upon her neck. She had to keep him talking. She had to think of a plan of escape.

“Then…then the girl you raped last year was not your first?”

Jonathon chuckled. “Of course not, my love. But the others were low born girls. Quite feisty, too, some of them. That’s one of the reasons why I like you so much, Lucinda.” Quick as a wink, he swirled the scarf down and secured her wrists together.

Lucinda struggled, horrified, but Jonathon only hauled her up against his hard body and kissed her. She jerked her jaw right, and spit on him.

Jonathon’s smiling eyes glittered down at her. Softly, he said, “And so the sport begins.” Before she knew what he was about, he dragged her to the four-poster bed and tied her wrists to the post.

He loomed over her. “Now. Will I need my ropes, or will you behave?”

Panic beat a staccato rap through her heart and soul. Using every ounce of her strength, Lucinda tried to fling her body off the edge of the bed, but she wasn’t fast enough. Hard hands bit into her, forcing her back, and Jonathon straddled her.

Lucinda bucked and twisted. Horror and fear seeped into every corner of her mind. And then he leaned forward, crushing her with his full body weight. Moist lips kissed her.

Desperately, she jerked her chin left and right but could not escape him. Lucinda felt like she was suffocating. She felt like she was about to be swallowed up by a dragon from the very pit of hell.

Help me!
she prayed incoherently.
Send Riel.
Oh Riel, where was he?

For the barest second, Jonathon pulled back; perhaps to gather breath to stoke the fires of hell in his soul, and Lucinda screamed out, “Riel!”

Jonathon chuckled. “Your blackguard of a guardian will not save you now. I am the one you should be pleading with. My name should be upon your lips. Say it,” he urged softly. “I want to hear you say my name.”

“You are insane! Go to the devil.”