The Pirate's Desire (12 page)

Lucinda felt his hard stare following her. She had left the books in the conservatory, and quickly retrieved them. Riel met her in the hall outside the study and relieved her of their weight. “Did you understand them?”

“What?” Lucinda had been so busy rehearsing her plan that it took a moment to comprehend what he was talking about. When she did, however, she refused to answer. He knew she had understood little of the ledgers, and likely wanted to rub her nose in it. Never mind. Soon he would pay. Satisfaction curved her lips.

His gaze rested on her face. “What are you plotting, Lucy?”

Lucy again. Had he already forgotten her unspeakable behavior this morning? Not to mention this evening? Hopefully not. Not if her plan was to succeed.

“My head is dancing with sugar plums, Mr. Montclair,” she said archly. “Sweet dreams beckon me.”

His dark brows lowered. “Sweet as roses? Or wicked, like their thorns?”

She grinned, unable to help herself. “Risk makes their nectar all the more sweet. I plan to harvest a bushelful of roses tonight, Mr. Montclair. I hope you will do the same.” She would leave him with the thorns, that was for sure.

With that oblique taunt, she lightly ran up the stairs. Finally. Time to execute her closing act. Her heart pounded with anticipation. Had she suddenly developed a penchant for danger? Or had their latest confrontation only fueled her desire to best him in their battle of wills?

Neither was a good motivation, she mentally chastised herself. The plan was dangerous. She had orchestrated it to be so.

But perhaps she could enjoy ruffling his feathers a little, too.

Well, that might be possible for a while… Until the end.

* * * * *

Lucinda waited until utter darkness cloaked the house, and the hall clock chimed ten o’clock. Experience told her Mrs. Beatty would work in the kitchen for an hour longer. She counted upon this fact for her plan to succeed.

Gathering her courage, Lucinda finally slipped into the silent hallway, wiggled out of the upstairs hall window and speedily descended the latticed trellis to the ground. It had been seven years since she’d last attempted it, but she remembered the broken slats, and thankfully additional ones did not break beneath her increased weight.

So far, so good. A sign, perhaps, that her plan would succeed. Lights still glowed in the kitchen, and she spotted Mrs. Beatty preparing dough for tomorrow morning’s rolls. A peek in the study window proved Riel was hard at work studying the ledgers. She smiled to herself and made haste for the stables.

Lucinda quickly saddled Old Ben and led him into the faint moonlight. She hated taking even a small risk with her beloved horse, but in her defense, she planned only to trot across the lawn before the study window until she felt sure Riel saw her. The lawn was level and safe. Then she’d gallop off and hide among the trees in the forest for a good long while, just to give Riel time to bubble into a good rage. And then she’d return to face the music.

Her throat felt dry, and she swallowed. Mrs. Beatty would surely protect her if things went too far.

Her heart pounded harder. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

Of course it was. She could do this. She
must
do this. No pirate would gain control of her home, or her life.

Old Ben trustingly walked beside her until she reached the house, and then she hoisted herself into the saddle and trotted back and forth on the lawn in front of the study window. All the while, she kept her eyes trained for any change in Riel’s expression. Then she would flee.

Her muscles felt unbearably tense. She found it difficult to relax in the saddle and enjoy the leisurely ride.

A good many minutes passed, and Riel still did not look up. Lucinda felt a little sick now with anticipation, and her palms sweated in the cool evening. She had to get Riel’s attention before Mrs. Beatty went to bed.

Time to take drastic action.

She dismounted, gathered up an array of small stones in her fist and mounted her steed again. Lightly, she tossed the smallest at the window frame. Nothing. She reined Old Ben to a stop and threw another pebble, but harder this time.
Crack!

Hopefully it hadn’t chipped the window, she thought uneasily, and then her blood surged, for Riel glanced up. He saw her. Those black brows came together like a thundercloud and he bolted to his feet.

With a choking little gasp, Lucinda dug her knees in Old Ben’s sides. Startled, the old horse lurched into a wild gallop across the lawn. Lucinda let him have his head, for the lawn was smooth and safe. Once she was out of sight of the house, however, she pulled up on the reins.

“Whoa, boy,” she whispered. “Don’t want to break a leg.” It wasn’t pitch dark, not with the stars and sliver of moon hanging overhead, but it
was
difficult to see.

Lucinda urged Old Ben slowly into the forest. If she hadn’t played on these lands since she was a child, she would be quickly lost. As it was, her knowledge played directly into her hand.

Now to let Riel stew for a while. She glanced overhead and gauged the position of the moon against the tallest tree. She’d let it move an inch or more, and then return home.

Long moments crept by, and goose flesh prickled up on her arms. Lucinda wished she had brought a cloak. For a summer night, it was surprisingly chilly. Still, it could not be helped. Better a little discomfort now, than two years of it later.

Lucinda allowed Old Ben to amble as he wished near the tree line. His ears perked to and fro, listening to the sounds of the forest. He seemed to be enjoying the adventure. Probably more than she was.

“Good boy,” she whispered, keeping an eye on Ravensbrook, just to make sure Riel did not exit or try to track her down. Far more likely, though, he’d wait in the house in the study. Long minutes ticked by.

Not much longer, now.

Lucinda’s heart pounded in sickening thuds. She was about to gain her heart’s desire, if she had the guts to stick to her plan. Did she?

She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

* * * * *

Lucinda shuddered with cold by the time she rode home. She stabled her horse, and then circled the house, heading to the back door—conveniently located near the study, and next to the kitchen, too. Inside, Mrs. Beatty wiped down the table with an old rag.

Good. Lucinda took comfort from the close proximity of her old friend. But she couldn’t let Mrs. Beatty know what she was up to just yet. No, she had to face the music on her own, and accept the ultimate punishment…and the ultimate prize for her flagrant, willful disobedience. Mrs. Beatty would hear her, though, when she screamed.

Lucinda’s fingers trembled as she grasped the familiar iron door handle.
It will be all right,
she told herself.
You can do this.

Her heart pounded like a runaway horse when she entered the dimly lit hall, and she felt sick. Nerves prickled into her skin like tiny, torturous needles as she made her way toward the study. Toward Riel.

Breathing quickly and shallowly, and tongue feeling as dry as fall leaves, she approached the last corner. A scurry would take her past the study’s open doorway and lead to the stairs and the sanctuary of her room. With a tiny, gulping swallow, she turned that last corner.

Only to find the study dark and empty.

She stood stationary for a minute, heart still racing, trying to come to grips with this unexpected development. Where was Riel? Had he gone to bed? Had he decided to let her willful disobedience slide…at least until he officially became her guardian?

Lucinda trembled, feeling let down, angry, vexed…and truly, more than a little relieved. When she clasped her hands together, she realized they were visibly shaking. All of the adrenaline…all the planning…all for naught.

So, no confrontation tonight. Riel had won. He would become her guardian after all. And lord over Ravensbrook.

She had lost.

Still trembling, Lucinda headed up the stairs. Her legs felt shaky, like half set gelatin molds, as she climbed the stairs to the upper hall. All was silent and dim up there, too. Riel must have retired for the night. She couldn’t believe it. She had planned it all so carefully. She had been so
certain
he would not let it slide…that he would explode like a box of gunpowder.

The silence in the hall did not soothe her nerves, nor did it calm the trembles still shaking through her body. She would only feel safe in her room. Suddenly, that was where she wanted to be, and immediately. She bolted over the last few feet and swiftly closed her bedroom door behind her. She pressed her back to it and a long breath of relief filled her lungs. She was safe. It was all over.

The armoire on her left blocked her view of most of the room, but ahead a lamp burned high and bright on the dresser, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

She frowned. Hadn’t she left the wick burning low?

For the first time, she sensed something was out of place in her room.

Heart accelerating yet again, Lucinda uneasily inched past the wardrobe and cast a quick glance about her room.

Adrenaline kicked up her heart rate when she saw Riel. He sat in a chair in the corner. He wore all black and almost blended into the shadows.

“Riel!” she gasped.

He rose to his feet; an alarmingly dark presence. “I see you have returned.”

“What are you doing in my
room?
” This was not in her plan. Not at all. Mrs. Beatty was nowhere near. “Get out at once!”

“You refuse to heed my words, Lucinda.”

Lucinda. His voice was even, but she was not fooled. He was angry, just as she had planned. Unfortunately, now would be her reckoning, and no one would witness it, or save her. Lucinda lifted her chin, fighting for calm and courage.

In a low, dark voice, he asked, “Where have you been?”

Although her fingers trembled, Lucinda nonchalantly pulled off her bonnet. “Out. I want you to leave. It is most inappropriate for you to be here.”

“Riding in the forest?”

“Yes, if you must know.” She turned partly away to place her bonnet on the dresser. He took one step closer while this transpired, making her feel even more tense. A tendril of fear crept down her spine. She faced him. “Leave my room immediately.”

“We will finish this now, Lucinda. No more games.”

“I play no games.” She was pleased by how firm her voice sounded. Inside, however, she scrambled, struggling to figure out how to best take advantage of this situation. Although the confrontation was not playing out how she had originally planned, he
was
clearly angry. If she possessed
the guts to play her hand to the full, as she had planned to do in the study, then her plan could still succeed.

But she was alone with him. The barest tremor slid through her.
Stop it,
she told herself fiercely.
Seize this opportunity
. She must grip her courage and play her role to the hilt. For Ravensbrook. For her own future.

He growled, “I have let you play me again and again. A mistake. I thought you were grieving. I believed that explained your belligerent behavior. I see I was wrong.”

“Leave if you are not pleased, Mr. Montclair. No one is binding you to Ravensbrook. Return to the docks, if life here is so unpalatable.”

A muscle clenched in his jaw. “An insubordinate lad aboard ship would have received thirty lashes by now.”

Fear trickled like cold water down her skin. “I am not a lad, nor am I aboard your barbaric ship, Mr. Montclair.”

“What method should I employ, then? Words do not work with you.”

She stiffened her spine against the implied threat. Coldly, she stated, “I do not respond well to orders. I thought you had learned that lesson.”

Something black flashed in his eyes. “I am not giving
orders,
Lucinda. I am concerned for your safety, but you will not heed my words.”

“You mean obey you? I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman…”

“Then act like one!” he thundered.

She jumped a bit, despite herself. “I’ve done nothing dangerous. I know Ravensbrook blindfolded.”

“You defy me on purpose.”

How clever he was. With a small, mocking smile, she said, “Tell me, how has it worked?”

“I am staying, Lucinda,” he said, his voice like black silk. “And you will listen when I give you instruction.”

“Or what?” she returned, and managed to construct a sneer. “No.
I
will decide what’s best for me. Not you. I will not listen to you. Not now, nor ever. So when you leave for your ship, don’t bother to return. If you think these past few days have been unpleasant, know they’re only a taste of what will come.”

His face darkened. “You act like a willful child who needs a good swat.”

She had never seen him so close to the edge of snapping before. Her heart bumped faster with fear. Was this it? Perhaps her next words would be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back.

Yes, if she played her cards right, now she would free herself from his presence forever.

With deliberate precision, she curled her lips into a condescending sneer. “My father was a gentleman, born and raised. Not like you. He
never
raised a hand to me.”

“It is what you need now!” His tense body looked cast in stone. Tightly checked anger vibrated, pulsing through the room, enveloping her senses. Lucinda felt a swift, piercing stab of fear.

He could do it, she knew in sudden fright, seeing the dangerous glint in his eyes. He could easily bend her to his will and humiliate her in such a way.

This was not in her plan. How could she show Mr. Chase those bruises? Her face flamed.

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on me,” she breathed. Panic fluttered like a tiny, agitated bird in her breast. “I will hate you
forever!
”