Taken by You (16 page)

“Not exactly,” Luca hedged. “Not at first, anyway. I begged him to send me back home. I even pretended that I was a nun, but in the end Morgan had his way.”

“You should have killed yourself,” the priest said sternly, stepping forward into the circle of light. “But what is done cannot be changed. We must rectify this terrible wrong immediately.”

Luca raised her eyes, looking directly at the priest. “I did not wish to die by my own hand. As you say, what’s done is done. Unfortunately nothing short of a miracle can change what has already happened. If the convent will have me, I will devote what remains of my life to God.”

“That won’t be necessary, Luca,” Cordero assured her. “The scoundrel seduced you, and we will see that he does right by you before he dies. You have been promised to Don Diego, and Father’s honor is at stake. Arturo and I will take steps to make certain Don Diego doesn’t look elsewhere for a bride.”

Luca’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. How can you make things right? Nothing is the same. Don Diego expects an innocent bride.”

Cordero and his brother exchanged knowing glances. “Don Diego’s pride will be restored when he learns he is wedding a widow instead of a dishonored virgin. Widows remarry all the time.”

“But I’m not a widow. Don Diego wouldn’t believe such an outrageous lie.”

“Ah, my dear sister,” Cordero informed her, “you will indeed be a widow after you are married to El Diablo and he is put to death for his vicious acts of piracy on the high seas. A very wealthy widow, at that.”

Luca’s mouth flew open. “That’s ridiculous! Morgan will never agree to that. Nor will L”

The priest stepped forward. “You are distraught, my child. It distresses me that you have been duped by the pirate to become his mistress. Your family won’t be satisfied until his sin against you is avenged. A marriage between you and El Diablo is the only way to make this thing right. Once the pirate is put to death you can get on with your life. You will be a respectable widow. A rich one. Don Diego will be pleased.”

“We don’t need your compliance, Luca,” Arturo warned. “Father Ricardo will marry you and the pirate no matter how much either of you protests. He will do it because it is what God would want”

Father Ricardo nodded sagely.

Cordero walked to the door, opened it, and called to a sailor working nearby on the rigging. Cordero removed a key from his pocket and tossed it to the fellow. “Bring the pirate topside, Julio. Give him something to wear—we don’t want him offending his bride on his wedding day.”

“Dios.”
Luca’s plea ended on a sob. “If I agree to marry him, will you spare his life?”

“Then you wouldn’t be a widow, would you?” Cordero said. “Fear not, sister, we wouldn’t kill our own brother-in-law. We will leave that unpleasant chore to Don Diego. Father will be pleased with the way we’ve handled things.”

The brothers were very similar in looks. Both darkly handsome with slim bodies and elegant features. Arturo, the younger and more explosive in nature, was somewhat more muscular than Cordero, the more levelheaded of the pair. Luca loved them both dearly, but right now she could have gladly wrung their necks.

Morgan kicked out ferociously when one of his furry companions boldly attacked. He pulled at the chains binding him, cursing his captors and all Spaniards in general. In all the years since he’d escaped his forced slavery, he’d never imagined himself a captive a second time. He. swore that if he ever got himself out of this predicament it would never happen again.

Morgan tensed, suddenly aware that someone was approaching from above. A dim light appeared through the grill at the top of the ladder, He heard a grating sound, then a man popped into view. The dark-skinned sailor stared at Morgan, his contempt palpable.

“You are no longer pretty, El Diablo,” Julio said in rapid Spanish.

“I never was,” Morgan replied in the same language.

Startled, the sailor sent Morgan an appraising glance. “I see you speak our language. It is good that you will be able, to participate fully in the marriage ceremony held in your honor.”

He moved cautiously to the bulkhead, releasing Morgan’s chains from where they had been attached to an iron ring. Then he stepped back, holding his sword at the ready.

A few moments later a second sailor started down the ladder, carrying a bundle under his arm. “Are you down there, Julio?”

“About time, Matteo. Give the captain the clothes. It wouldn’t be proper to attend a wedding dressed inappropriately.” Matteo proceeded down the ladder and offered Morgan the clothing on the outstretched tip of his sword.

Morgan hesitated only a moment before accepting the tattered pair of trousers and threadbare shirt. He stared at them a moment, then he shrugged, nodding toward his chained ankles and wrists. “Remove the chains.”

“First the leg irons,” Matteo advised. “I do not trust the bastard.”

Julio approached Morgan gingerly. “Keep the sword at his throat, Matteo. He is one dangerous hombre.” When Julio reached Morgan, he bent and unlocked the leg irons. “There,” he said, stepping back, “you may put on the trousers now.”

Morgan stepped into the soiled, ill-fitting canvas trousers and tied the strings together at his waist. When he was done, Julio reattached the leg irons and unlocked the chains at his wrists.

“Now the shirt,” Julio said, prodding Morgan with the tip of his sword. “And do not try anything courageous. We are well out to sea; there is no escape.”

Morgan shrugged into the shirt. It was loose and flowing and fit his muscular build without splitting the seams. When he was dressed Julio clasped the irons on his wrists and prodded him up the ladder.

“Your presence is required in the captain’s cabin, pirate,” Julio smirked. “A woman cannot become a widow until she is properly wed and her husband departs this world for the next.” By now everyone on the ship knew what the Santiegos were planning for El Diablo.

Morgan shuffled stiffly up the ladder, his bruised body protesting the brutal treatment he had suffered. Hampered by the chains, his dragging steps were slow and measured. When he reached the deck he blinked repeatedly, nearly blinded by the bright light Morning had arrived while Morgan had lain unconscious in the hold, and with it came the knowledge that he was on a ship bound for God only knew where.

Morgan was pushed roughly across the deck and into the captain’s cabin. He stumbled on his fetters then fell flat on his face. He raised his head and saw Luca. She looked haggard, sad and exhausted.

“What have you done to Luca?” he asked harshly.

Arturo lunged for Morgan, but Cordero held him back. “We have done nothing to our sister. It is you who have done her injury. You raped her. She was innocent until you abducted her and made her your mistress.”

Morgan’s gaze settled disconcertingly on Luca. “Did she say I raped her?”

“There was no need. She was found in your bed,” Arturo answered. “You will pay with your life, Captain. But first you will make amends to our sister. Get up!”

Luca’s heart went out to Morgan, feeling keenly his anger and confusion. She wanted to reach out to him, to help him to his feet, but she didn’t dare. Any move she made toward him now would only further antagonize her brothers. Later, after she went through with this forced marriage and their tempers cooled, she’d try to find a way to free Morgan before they turned him over to Don Diego. The thought of his death made her physically ill.

Morgan raised himself painfully to. his feet, his face set in grim lines. “What do you want of me? It would take a miracle to restore Luca’s innocence.”

Arturo lunged at Morgan again, but Cordero stepped between them. “You will marry my sister, Captain,” Cordero informed him coolly. “Father Ricardo is willing to perform the ceremony.”

Shocked, Morgan’s gaze flew to Luca. “Marry? You want me to marry your sister? Bloody Hell!”

“You will be married immediately, Captain,” Cordero continued smoothly. “But fear not, the wedding will be of short duration. And there will be no honeymoon. Fortunately for Luca, your execution in Havana will leave her a widow so she and Don Diego can marry as originally planned. But not before you have made out a will leaving all your worldly goods to your bereaved widow. It is rumored that you are enormously wealthy.”

“If I am to be executed, why bother with a wedding at all?” Morgan asked evenly.

“You have dishonored our sister. Santiego pride demands that you right the wrong done to her. Widowhood will suit her, I think. Don Diego’s honor will be assuaged, and all will be as it should be.”

Morgan sent Luca a contemptuous look. “I’ll admit she wears black well. What if I don’t agree to a marriage?”

“You will agree, for you have no choice,” Arturo threatened, clenching his fists beneath Morgan’s nose. “I know you care little for Luca’s welfare, but she deserves happiness. Widowhood is much more palatable than admitting she was a man’s whore.”

Luca blanched. “Arturo!”

Morgan’s face tautened with rage. Calling Luca a whore was blasphemous. If he hadn’t been chained he would have torn into Luca’s brother.

“It is true, Luca,” Arturo returned. “Everyone will consider you a whore. Marrying the pirate before he is put to death is the only way to redeem yourself.” He motioned Father Ricardo forward. “You may begin the ceremony, Father.”

Luca glanced apologetically at Morgan, but it had little affect on his fierce scowl. They were both pawns in her brothers’ scheme to restore her respectability, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. When Father Ricardo called for her response, she answered without hesitation. She agreed to take Morgan Scott as her lawful husband. Morgan’s reluctance was plainly evident. Only when Arturo pricked Morgan with the tip of his sword did he agree, albeit sullenly, to take Luca as his lawfully wedded wife.

In a shockingly short time he was a married man. He stared at Luca, more than a little surprised that he felt scant regret at making Luca his wife. Immediately following the brief ceremony he was forced to sign a will, written and witnessed by Father Ricardo, leaving all his worldly goods to Luca, his beloved wife.

“Don’t I get to kiss the bride?” Morgan asked, slanting Luca a sardonic grin.

Cordero sent him a fierce scowl then opened the door and summoned Julio. “Take him back to the hold and guard him well.”

“Wait!” Luca cried. Was this how it was going to end? How could she live knowing she had caused Morgan’s death? She’d rather die along with him than marry Don Diego. “I wish to speak to Morgan alone.”

“Impossible!” Arturo snorted. “The bastard has ruined you beyond redemption. Be grateful that we have salvaged your reputation.”

“Morgan is my husband,” Luca insisted.

“Not for long,” Cordero replied. “We have done our duty by you, little sister. We want only what is best for you. Accept your fate graciously. Your future is with Don Diego. Once the pirate is dispatched to Hell you will forget that he ever existed.”

Luca thought it highly unlikely that she’d ever forget Morgan.

‘Take him away,” Arturo repeated. Julio nudged Morgan with his sword. Morgan hesitated, sent a scorching look over his shoulder at Luca, men shuffled out the door.

The utter hopelessness of Morgan’s situation nearly broke Luca’s heart. When had these powerful emotions invaded her heart? she wondered dismally. When had she stopped thinking of Morgan as a loathsome pirate?

When had she begun to love him?

Chapter 9

Havana, Cuba

T
he deep water of Havana harbor permitted the
Santa Maria
to drop anchor at the seawall and lower a gangplank directly onto the quay. Throughout the years the town had seen numerous attacks from English, French, and Dutch pirates. In 1537 the city was sacked and burned, and a half century later in 1586, just the previous year, it had been threatened by Sir Francis Drake. It was no wonder that King Philip II of Spain had just recently ordered the erection of La Punta and Moro castle in defense of the city. With the population of Havana pushing three thousand, the residence of the governor-general had just been moved from Santiego de Cuba to Havana.

Standing at the rail of the
Santa Maria,
Luca saw the skeleton of Moro castle rising like a grim specter against the brilliant blue sky. It wasn’t completed yet, but when it was she knew it would be an effective deterrent against marauding pirates and invaders. Luca’s dejection was evidenced by the slump of her shoulders and glazed expression. They had been at sea for nearly a week, and she had failed to find a way to free Morgan.