The Pirate's Desire (18 page)

Tension knit
Riel’s muscles tighter, and his temper shorter, as May arrived and slowly dragged by. His heart told him he belonged with Lucy. An ineffable sense of unease nagged at him, accusing him that he was not where he had promised to be…protecting her.

Why did he feel like some dark presence encroached upon her, even now?

Riel threw himself into the multiple tasks necessary to captain his ship and accomplish the Royal Navy’s commands. He pushed
Tradewind
harder, faster, and demanded the impossible from his men. On several occasions, he reduced the Royal Navy’s Lieutenant Commander aboard his ship to silence by roaring at his men to comply, and be quick about it.

Riel didn’t like himself, but he needed to return to London, and now.

At long last, the Lieutenant Commander appeared satisfied with the intelligence they had gathered, and Riel set aloft his fastest sails and scooted for home. His gut told him it could be too late. His heart prayed it was not…and he prayed for Lucy’s protection.

Again and again he swore to himself that next Season he would not leave her side for one moment. Was she all right now? She had to be.

During that swift passage from the French coast to London, Riel read and reread his letters from Sophie and Lucy. Worry for his great-aunt bedeviled him, too. He knew she had been unable to travel to London, and so he knew Lucy lived with the Carlisles now.

Only reading Lucy’s letters eased the knot in his stomach—and then only for a few moments. They made him smile. Clearly, she had tried to write prim and proper missives, but she couldn’t prevent her feistiness from sparkling through. He especially liked the way she’d closed her letters. His humble servant? His
obedient
servant. Riel chuckled softly at that thought, imagining the wicked gleam in her eyes when she’d penned it.

He missed her; and more than he had expected.

Spray hit his face now as
Tradewind
leaped and plunged through the waves, heading for London. Soon. He estimated docking by six that night.

Not soon enough for him. Not soon enough at all.

He climbed below to finish preparations so he could leave the ship the instant she docked.

But it was seven o’clock before Riel finally leaped free of his ship and strode for downtown London. He had no idea where Lucy might be, but he had a few contacts. It shouldn’t take long.

“Extra, extra!” chirped a grubby newsboy on a street corner. “Special edition, guv’nor.”

Riel glanced down at the paper and stopped dead. Black headlines screamed, “Debutant Raped and Battered.”

Riel ripped the paper from the unsuspecting lad. “When did this happen?” he roared.

Fright widened the boy’s eyes. “Don’ know, guv’nor. I canna read.”

Riel fished coins from his pocket—double the price of the paper. “Keep the change,” he mumbled. Striding fast again, he flipped it open and read,

A well-heeled debutant of the ton was abducted Wednesday night and raped. The dastardly attacker blindfolded the helpless woman. When finished soiling the lady of high station, he released her to wander the dark streets of London alone, hands tied, and blindfolded with a silk scarf. The kindness of strangers returned her home. Constables report the girl’s clothes were soiled, and her mind apparently broken when they attempted to interview her. She could not tell them where she had been, nor who had taken her. For the protection of her family, the lady’s name has been withheld.

Panic clamped like a vise around Riel’s heart. Was he too late? Had Lucy been attacked and raped?

Where was she? He broke into a run. If Riel didn’t know for certain that two people were long dead, he would think this was a repeat of Morocco, twelve years ago. Not as deadly, but just as evil.

A predator of women stalked London.

Why hadn’t he listened to his gut? Why hadn’t he been with Lucy? He’d broken his promise to her father. He had failed yet another innocent woman.

Riel ran faster, his breaths tight and nearly choking his lungs.

Please let her be all right! Please.

He would do anything…
anything
to learn that Lucy was safe.

* * * * *

Lucinda and Amelia sat close together at the sparsely populated ball. Lucinda tried to ignore the trickle of fear sliding through her nerves. Is was the last ball they could attend this Season. Surely the rapist wouldn’t show up here, of all places. The legendary Bow Street Runners must be hunting him by now. This logic didn’t relax the unease she felt.

Lady Carlisle had not wanted to come, but both girls had insisted. When the butler and footman had agreed to guard their carriage with a gun and an ancient sword, Lady Carlisle had reluctantly capitulated.

Now Lucinda wondered if they should have bothered. Few people had come; at least, so far. And those who had arrived exclaimed in low voices about the horrific scandal. That poor,
poor
nameless woman had been plucked from a ball such as this only two days ago. A ball Lucinda had attended, which made it all the more alarming.

“Strolling in the garden, no doubt,” whispered some.

“Just what she deserved,” whispered others.

Lucinda felt appalled. What woman deserved to have a man force himself upon her? Or to be dumped to wander the pitch black streets alone? She shuddered, and rubbed her calf, to which she’d strapped a butter knife with a narrow pink ribbon. If attending high society functions proved to be a dangerous sport, she would be prepared.

“What are you doing?” Amelia whispered. At least now they were talking.

Lucinda lifted the edge of her skirt an improper few inches. “I’m prepared,” she hissed. “If a man wants to come after me, he will lose choice body parts.”

“With a butter knife?” Amelia snorted. Unexpectedly, she hugged her.

Lucinda hugged her back, and tears threatened. When she pulled away, moisture glistened in her friend’s eyes, too.

“I’m sorry, Lucinda, for the snit I’ve been in. I was petty and jealous.”

“And I’m sorry for doubting if Fredrick cares for you.”

Amelia shook her head. She dabbed her nose with a hanky. “No. You were right. Look. There he is. He’s been here thirty minutes, and still hasn’t acknowledged me. I’m afraid you were right about him.”

Lucinda didn’t want to be right. She wanted her friend to be happy. Unfortunately, Fredrick was not the man to accomplish that goal.

Jonathon arrived soon after, and twirled Lucinda away. More people crowded in as dusk deepened to nightfall. In fact, now it looked as if the ball might be better attended than any other function to date.

People probably wanted to gossip, Lucinda uncharitably guessed, as she danced with a dandy. Or old dowagers wanted to count heads and guess who the fallen debutant might be.

A loud disturbance registered near the entrance. Women gasped, and heads turned.

“An invitation, sir,” bleated the butler.

But the man, a tall, black-haired one, dressed in a rumpled black jacket and partially unbuttoned shirt, strode unhindered into the room.

Shocked, Lucinda’s dancing feet stilled.

Riel!

He swiftly scanned the room, looking…looking, and then she felt—like a lightening bolt through her body—when those black eyes found her. He headed for her, his pace fast and deliberate, plowing through all the people in his path. His bristled jaw needed a razor, his skin was tinged gray, and his black eyes burned.

Lucinda’s heart fluttered into her throat and she stood frozen, unable to look away from the man advancing upon her.

“Riel,” she gasped, when he was within two steps.

Now one step separated them. “Lucy!” It was a deep, harsh growl. “
Lucy.
” Now an agonized rumble. His strong hands gripped her arms. “You are all right?” Those black, scorching eyes scanned her from head to toe, and then returned to her flushed cheeks. “You are all right,” he asked more quietly, but just as urgently.

Lucinda licked her suddenly dry lips. “I…I am fine, Riel. When did you return?”

As if suddenly realizing everyone stared at them, he tugged her arm, leading her toward the wall for privacy. He ignored the tiny, irritated throat clearing of her dance partner.

Lucinda sent a hasty, apologetic glance backward, and hurried along in Riel’s fast wake. “Where are you taking me? What has gotten into you, Riel?” Finally, she stopped and dug in her heels. “Tell me this minute what you are about, dragging me off like this.”

He spun to face her, so near to her that every nerve ending jumped in awareness of his close proximity. He had never seemed so large, or his eyes so black. He smelled of the sea, as if he had just left his ship.

“Why are you here?” she whispered.

“I am here because you are here, Lucy.” An unknown emotion roughened his words.

“When did you arrive?” For the life of her, she could not stop staring at him, and made no effort to increase the space between them.

“An hour ago. And I came directly to find you.”

Her throat closed under his intense, dark appraisal. What was he thinking? Why did her heart beat so fast? “Why?” she asked finally, faintly.

“Because I was worried!”

“You were worried? About me?” A warm emotion filled her up, so full it bubbled over. She smiled. “Really?”

“Yes, Lucy.” His calloused palm cupped her jaw, but his touch felt gentle, belying his rough, raw appearance. Deep emotions roiled in his obsidian gaze, and her mouth felt suddenly dry. In that moment, Lucinda felt completely and utterly cherished.

She licked her lips. “I am well, as you can see.”

His hand dropped. “When I saw the paper…
Lucy,
” he said in a low, vehement voice. “What are you doing at this ball?”

She felt momentarily bewildered. “Dancing? At least until you arrived.”

“Truly.” He sounded grim. “Then you have earned yourself a close companion for the rest of the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do
you
mean, exposing yourself to danger? Attending a frivolous ball?”

Her temper flashed, evaporating the more tender emotions she had felt just moments earlier. “I am chaperoned. The butler and footman are armed.”

Musicians struck up the waltz, and a gentleman appeared to Lucinda’s left. “I believe I have this dan…” He faltered when impaled by Riel’s black, dangerous stare. Without a word, the man melted in the direction of the punch table.

Riel claimed her hand and pulled her into his arms. His dance steps were not as smooth as last time. In fact, they seemed jerky, and tension thrummed through the thick, hard muscles beneath her fingertips.

She felt indignant with the liberties he presumed. “You are a barbarian,” she hissed. “I will not dance every dance with you!”

“You will not need to. I will watch you every minute. And you may be sure each of your dance partners will know it.”

Lucinda gasped. “You beast.” And here she’d been all a flutter for an alarming minute, actually glad to see him! “The high seas have not improved your social skills.”

“I care nothing about wagging tongues, Lucy. I care only that you are safe.”

“Well, I am, and you are crushing me in your arms!” An exaggeration, but he had anchored her too close to his large body.

He allowed another fraction of an inch to ease between them. His dark eyes glittered down at her. “You are so unhappy to see me, Lucy?”

Unfortunately, she had been too happy to see him! Lucinda knew she should feel relieved that he’d so quickly resumed his dictatorial guardian role—that way she’d remember exactly who he was. Instead, disappointment licked through her.

“How can I be happy when you rush in and give me a tongue lashing? Then you yank me into your arms and begin dictating the rest of my evening. Which of those charming behaviors would you like me to applaud?”

They danced in silence for long moments. Finally, he said, “Shall we begin again?”

Lucinda bit her lip. “We have started over too many times to count, Mr. Montclair. Perhaps we need to accept that the road before us is rough. I see no peace in our future.”

“Montclair again.” He seemed to relax infinitesimally. “Moments ago, I was Riel.”

He baited her. Lucinda turned her chin away, refusing to look at him.

The music slowed, indicating it would stop very soon. To her shock, Riel had the gall to pull her closer to him. She felt his warm breath slide into her hair. In a low voice, he said, “I thank God you are safe, Lucy. Know that is the
only
thing important to me.”

And then he released her into her next partner’s willing arms. But he was never far from her, not for the remainder of the evening. His watchful gaze followed her and the young men with whom she danced. Even Jonathon noticed.

“Your guardian has returned with a vengeance. If his eyes were knives, I would be flayed to bits by now.”

“He doesn’t approve of me being here. Not with what happened.” It seemed inappropriate to speak of the scandal with a person of the opposite sex; and a Duke, to boot. Although she’d had no problem arguing with Riel about it.

Toward the end of the evening, she sat with Amelia and her mother for a moment to rest. Amelia wore a frown, and studiously avoided looking at one quadrant of the room.

“Has Fredrick been beastly again?” Lucinda asked with sympathy.

“No. He keeps asking me to dance, and I keep refusing.”

“Good for you.”

“He wants to confuse me. I won’t allow it.” Amelia pinned Lucinda with a sharp gaze. “On the other hand, there is no question what the Baron thinks of you.”

Lucinda frowned at once. “He is an unmanageable pirate. A boor of the first order.”

Amelia smiled. “Not the way I see it. He crashed the ball and charged straight for you, mowing down everyone in his path. Very dramatic, if you want my opinion.”