The Pirate's Desire (19 page)

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Authors: Jennette Green

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Regency Romance, #England, #Pirate, #Pirates, #Romance, #Love Story, #Sea Captain

BOOK: The Pirate's Desire
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“I do not. Besides, he made it clear he thinks me a ninny-headed fool, coming to a ‘frivolous ball’—his words—with a rapist on the loose. He chewed my ear off for the first five minutes.”

“And for the next five?”

“I chewed his ear off,” Lucinda admitted.

Amelia looked to the ceiling, as if imploring God for wisdom. She shook her head. “You’re deceiving yourself, if you think that’s all it’s about between you two.” With that cryptic remark, she fell silent, and watched Fredrick approach out of the corner of her eye.

Riel appeared, and with a bow gravely asked Amelia to dance. She accepted with a happy smile. Lucinda twirled away with her next dance partner, and Fredrick was left standing alone, looking displeased. Poor boy, Lucinda reflected with no pity. Now he would have to find a new victim.

 

* * * * *

 

Riel accompanied the Carlisle coach to their townhouse, and then spent a moment talking to Lady Carlisle before signaling for a carriage. Lucinda wondered what the discussion had been about, but told herself it didn’t matter. She didn’t care if he returned to his ship and she never saw him again.

A lie, and she couldn’t deny it. The fact disturbed her.

The next afternoon, Lucinda attended her last tea party, and then it was time to pack up. Effie did most of the work, but Lucinda chose the items she’d need for the trip to Iveny, and the maid packed these last bits into two trunks. The Carlisles had agreed to drop Lucinda off at Iveny for the promised visit to Sophie on their way home. It was out of their way, but it could not be helped.

On Sunday morning, Lucinda joined her trunks and valises in the parlor and watched the Carlisle footman pack up the carriage.

“That’s it,” he said, picking up Amelia’s last valise.

“What about my things?” Lucinda said.

The footman didn’t hear, but Amelia, just entering the room, did. “Didn’t Mama tell you?” A wicked glint lurked in her eyes. “The Baron has offered to drive you to Iveny, since he’s going there himself.”

Lucinda’s brows drew together. “Why is this the first I’ve heard of it?”

“Would you have been happy to learn of it sooner?”

“No.”

“Exactly my point. You tend to react rather dramatically to anything to do with Baron Iveny.”

“That is true,” Lucinda admitted with chagrin. “But I wish you’d told me, Amelia.”

It would have been even better if Riel had consulted her about the driving arrangements. Instead, he’d managed her like a child, as if she possessed no thoughts of import on the matter.

“I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Lucinda sighed. “Of course.” She felt vaguely disgruntled that the Carlisles must have believed she’d pitch a histrionic fit regarding Riel driving her to Iveny. Why else delay telling her the truth? Was her behavior toward him so untoward?

Perhaps so, she realized with further discomfort. Well then, time to change matters. Time to prove to everyone, including Riel, that she was a mature young woman.

She reminded herself of this yet again when Riel pulled up in his black carriage minutes later. Irritation still simmered in her, although she could not fully explain why. He leaped with quick agility from the carriage, and took the steps up to the townhouse two at a time.

With a determined smile, Lucinda advanced toward her guardian, who darkened the doorway. She dropped him a curtsey. “Mr. Montclair. How pleased I am to see you this morn.”

His lips twitched, and he offered a half bow. “As I am to see you, Lady Lucinda.”

“Such manners,” Amelia said with an arch grin. “Perhaps hope exists for the two of you.”

Lucinda bit her tongue, but continued to smile.

Goodbyes were said, and tears shed, although Lucinda and Amelia laughingly reminded each other they only lived a quarter day’s drive away. Lucinda invited the Carlisles to dinner when she returned to Ravensbrook. With this satisfactory arrangement, they waved goodbye. Effie left with the Carlisles, for Lucinda had promised her a week’s vacation after the Season. Effie wanted to visit with her family and her sister’s new child.

Iveny was a full day’s journey from London, and Lucinda applied herself to working a small tapestry. Needlework was not her choicest occupation, but it beat quarreling with Riel, which she disturbingly wanted to do. Clearly, if she wanted to become a serene, mature young lady, she should avoid speaking to her cavalier guardian altogether.

After replying with a polite smile and monosyllabic words to his initial attempts at conversation, he sent her a narrow look and then, to her satisfaction, left her alone. He spent the morning reading
The Times
.

As she absently worked the tapestry, Lucinda wondered how Sophie fared. In her letters, Sophie had insisted that she would feel better once the weather warmed up, and Lucinda hoped she was right. She wanted nothing more than to find Sophie as chipper and full of life as she’d been when she first arrived at Ravensbrook, almost a year ago.

They stopped for lunch at a small coaching inn named the White Hare. Lucinda observed it to be clean, and after she had refreshed herself, joined Riel at a table near a low burning fire.

Bread and a cup of tea awaited her. “Thank you. Have you ordered for me, as well?”

“Did you want me to?” Those black eyes looked amused, and a touch guarded.

Argumentative words leaped to her lips. All morning they had simmered, much as she had tried to ignore them and beat them into submission with fierce pricks of her embroidery needle.

Why did she still feel so perturbed? After all, it made complete sense for her to ride with Riel to Iveny. That did not bother her. What bothered her was that Riel had not discussed the matter with her at all, or even informed her of the new plans. Instead, he’d ignored her and made arrangements directly with Lady Carlisle; as if Lucinda were a parcel to be juggled until a convenient means of delivery was found. She felt managed and ignored. It bothered her, although she did not completely understand why.

The sarcastic attitude she’d fought all day unfortunately won the battle for her tongue now. “Does it matter, Mr. Montclair? It’s your nature to take command of every situation, is it not?” She didn’t give him time to respond. “I assume you know which morsels would most please my palate.”

“Lucy,” he growled.

“What?” Her eyebrows arched.

The waitress arrived, and Lucinda ordered steak and kidney pie. She folded and refolded her damask napkin lying on the table until Riel ordered a pork roast and the waitress left them. Then Riel’s large hand covered hers. “Lucy.”

Shock rippled through her—mostly because a lightning bolt seemed to sear from his skin to hers.

“How dare you…” Ineffectively, she tugged to free herself.

“Lucy.” His grip tightened. “I want peace between us.”

Lucinda’s face burned as she imagined the others at the inn staring at them. Perhaps…horror of horrors…presuming them man and wife! She hissed, “Unhand me at once.”

“Listen to me.”

Lucinda kicked his boot. A flush rose on his cheekbones. Never before had she created that desired effect. Finally, she might win one of their confrontations. “If you will be brutish, so will I,” she warned. “Now, unhand me.”

His black brows drew together, and his other hand captured her free one. “I want to speak, not fight, Lucy.”

She jerked discretely at her captured appendages. Mortification arose. Now people
were
staring! “You are making a spectacle,” she snapped.

He watched her for a moment, his frustration and incomprehension clear. He could not understand why she disliked being manhandled? Let’s see how he liked it.

Lucinda kicked his shin hard beneath the table. “I do not like being groped, Mr. Montclair. Release me at once. Before more people turn to frown upon your behavior.”

A dangerous glint hardened those black eyes. “You have not seen a spectacle, Lucy. Would you like me to make one?”

She gasped, and her cheeks flushed hotter. Who knew what depravities lurked in his black, barbarian’s heart? She could well imagine a pirate like him throwing her over his shoulder and mounting the stairs, as if to the rooms above, just to mortify her into submission.

“I hate you!” she choked out. “I hate you with every fiber in me!”

He released her hands, and she instantly tucked them into her lap and refused to look at him. Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, either.

The waitress arrived with their meals and Lucinda poked at the steak pie with her fork. Her stomach growled, so she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced down a few bites. Iveny was still hours away. She would not starve in the meantime, simply because this man chased away her appetite.

“Lucy,” he said after a while.

“You have no respect for me. Kindly leave me in peace.”

They finished the meal in silence, and returned to the carriage. Riel made no attempt to speak to her, and Lucinda told herself she was glad. She swallowed the welling lump in her throat, pressed her nose to the window and watched the countryside roll by. Riel, to her surprise, fell asleep.

As the carriage bumped over the country road, Lucinda cast occasional glances at him. Asleep, he looked younger, and more vulnerable. The strong lines of his cheekbones and jaw looked softer.

Lucinda abandoned looking out the window and studied him more closely. Gray shadows smudged beneath his eyes, and weary lines bracketed his mouth. He looked exhausted, simply and plainly, and her heart went out to him.

She had not asked how his mission with the Navy had gone. In fact, she had asked nothing about him at all. Instead, everything, from the time he’d erupted into the ball until now had been about
her.
Riel being worried about her. Riel watching her every dance partner like a hawk. Riel arranging to drive her to Iveny himself. Riel saying he wanted peace with her.

And she had deliberately taken offense to every real and imagined transgression he had committed, and attacked him for it.

Was she truly so ungrateful for his concern for her? Was she only concerned about herself and her own wishes? Or did she want to
find
reasons to argue with him?

The last explanation was correct, she finally admitted with a deep sigh, and looked out the window again. He needled fearfully under her skin. But she had pushed things too far at the inn. He’d only wanted to speak to her, but she had escalated it into a battle. She had acted like a spoilt brat. And all because she’d felt ignored in the travel arrangements.

Not her proudest moment. And a complete failure in her endeavor to become a mature young woman.

With an indrawn breath, Riel sat up and glanced out the window.

“Are we almost there?” Lucinda asked quietly.

The sleep bleary eyes focused on her and hardened, evidently remembering their latest fight. “Yes.” And then, after long moments, he said, “I want to speak to you, Lucinda.”

Lucinda. He was angry, surprise, surprise.

“Let me speak first,” she said. He opened his mouth, but she said, “Please.”

He acquiesced with a nod.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” It was harder than she had thought to offer these words of reconciliation. Part of her
did
want war with him, she realized. It erected a wall between them. A wall behind which she could protect herself.

Her mind flashed to the ball, when he’d cupped her jaw so gently. Riel made her feel things she didn’t want to feel…not for him. She drew a quick, unsteady breath. The feelings scared her, but they were no excuse to behave like a child, or a shrew. “I’m sorry I started that silly fight. And I’m sorry I kicked you. Twice.”

A little of the tension relaxed from his big frame. “You said I don’t respect you. Why?”

He remembered, and had thought about it. Surprised, but pleased, Lucinda carefully chose her words. “You take liberties, and you don’t ask. Like taking my hand at the inn. Or stealing a dance at the ball. Or arranging for me to come with you to Iveny, but you didn’t even speak to me about it. I feel like my wishes mean nothing to you.”

He sighed. “I am sorry, Lucy. I haven’t treated my men any better this past month.”

“Why not?” she asked softly.

He shoved a hand over his slicked back hair. “Because I’ve worried myself sick over you. I’ve failed both you and your father. I was not with you, where I had promised to be.”

“I was fine. Lady Carlisle chaperoned me.”

“A predator would not be thwarted by Lady Carlisle. I knew…I had a deep feeling you were in danger.” Silent moments ticked by. “Your father asked me to protect you from the wolves, Lucy. And that is what I intend to do. Next Season, I will be your chaperone. You will live in my house, and you will go nowhere unless I am with you.”

Her father had asked Riel to protect her from the wolves? What a strange request. It also explained Riel’s fierce protectiveness at the ball. He thought he’d failed his duty. And he was afraid she had been hurt.

Duty. It explained his overbearing behavior then, and his autocratic words now.

A curl of unhappiness slid through her.

“I am not a fool, Riel. Did you think I would go off alone and make myself a target for a madman? And what if he’s caught by next Season?”

“I will protect you, Lucy. Accept that now.”

“I understand that you feel responsible for me,” she said softly. “And I understand the promise you gave my father. But understand me, too. I do not want to be treated like a child. Discuss matters with me. Don’t order me about. I’m nearly nineteen. Next year, with any luck, I’ll be married. I am a grown woman, Riel. Treat me as one.”

His gaze flickered over her face, and then brushed over her dress. Warmth touched her cheeks when those dark eyes met hers again. “All right,
chéri
. I’m sorry. I will treat you as an adult. As long as you behave like one.”

“You will see only the very best in me from now on, Riel Montclair,” she promised. And then doubt arose. “How long before you return to your ship?”

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