The Pirate's Desire (21 page)

His eyes closed briefly. “Lucy,” he growled. He liked it. She could see he did by his fierce, tortured expression.

Suddenly shocked by her actions, Lucinda snatched her fingers away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Sleep, Lucy.” And then he was gone.

* * * * *

Riel’s response to Lucy’s touch had been visceral and completely inappropriate. He lay awake far into the dark night, trying to force it from his mind.

At dawn, he’d found a thin excuse for it. He’d had little time for female company over the last few years, thanks to his unending responsibilities with the Navy. And he’d had none at all since becoming Lucy’s guardian.

It did not matter. Lucy was his ward, period. The feelings he’d battled all night would die a quick death. Lucy deserved someone far better than he. He would be careful around her now—until all returned to normal.

As the sun crested the horizon, Riel dressed with quick efficiency and thought over Lucy’s emotional outburst, too. He didn’t want to think about Sophie dying, but it was clear his silence about his aunt’s fatal health problems provided little comfort for Lucy. She knew something was terribly wrong. She feared Sophie would die, just like her father had. And so Sophie would, too, but no one knew when.

Pain gripped his heart. He didn’t want Sophie to die, and he certainly didn’t want her to die alone. He felt comforted and grateful that Lucy felt the same way. Coupled with Lucy’s heartfelt cry that she didn’t want to live alone after Sophie left Ravensbrook for Iveny again; Riel saw only one solution to both problems. He would talk to Mr. Chase about it first. Then he would present Lucy with a choice…a chance to take charge of her own destiny. He smiled. She would like that.

* * * * *

By neither word nor action did Riel act like anything untoward had happened between them last night. Lucinda wondered if he had forgotten it, or if he’d dismissed it, thinking she was overwrought and had behaved irrationally. True enough on both counts.

She felt both ashamed and mortified, thinking about the way she had touched his unshaven jaw. The memory still burned into her fingers. She told herself this morning that she was grateful that Riel now treated her with reserved efficiency while footmen loaded the last of the trunks into Sophie’s carriage. Then all three of them, plus Sophie’s maid, settled into Riel’s carriage and they started off. Lucinda would not think too closely on why Riel’s detached politeness bothered her.

After a while, Riel decided to ride outside with the coachman, and then Lucinda was able to relax more fully and chat with Sophie. The carriage seemed bigger without him in it, and the air more easily filled her lungs. As always, he disturbed her, and she was less sure than ever what to do about it.

They arrived at Ravensbrook in the dark, and everyone fell into bed, exhausted. The next day, Sophie’s cough rasped terribly, and she could not get out of bed. Lucinda attended her, frequently popping in and out of her room to help her take sips of tea, to plump her pillows…anything to help ease her discomfort. It wrenched Lucinda’s heart to see Sophie’s dear face blue from the effort of trying to breathe, and to see her lying there looking so frail and weak. It didn’t seem possible that she could gain the strength to overcome the horrible turn in her health, but amazingly, she did. After a few days, she sat up, drank her tea unassisted, and then, with Riel’s help, she spent the mornings in her favorite spot on the terrace.

Relief eased into Lucinda’s heart with each positive stride in Sophie’s recovery. One day before Riel’s scheduled departure, Lucinda found him in the library, frowning over the ledgers.

She hadn’t seen much of him over the last few days, for he’d been riding thither and yon over the entire property, taking matters in hand. He hadn’t been to Ravensbrook since Christmas, and it may be months before he returned again. Clearly, he wanted all to be in order before he left.

“Riel.”

Riel looked up and a faint smile flickered. He rubbed his temple with his thumb. “Sophie is well?”

“She’s fine.” Lucinda came closer and noticed the dark smudges beneath his eyes, and the weary grooves etching the corners of his mouth. “Have you slept?” Then she blushed, realizing how inappropriate the question might sound. “You look tired.”

“I am tired. I leave for my ship tomorrow, and I still have much work to do.”

She moved closer, and noticed the uncharacteristic roundedness of his shoulders, another indicator of his exhaustion. He’d been pushing himself without relief since leaving his ship—at both Iveny and Ravensbrook—to ensure that all was in order. He’d surely driven himself relentlessly on his ship, too. And he’d return to still more work.

“Show me what to do,” she said softly. “I want to help you.”

“You have enough to do with Sophie. I plan to talk to her about hiring a nurse.”

“Don’t. She can’t bear it.”

The dark brown eyes regarded her. “Then all of the work will fall to you and her maid.”

“I know. It’s all right. And she’s fine. I want to help you.”

“Has Mr. Chase been teaching you more of the ledgers?”

“Yes.”

“You have done a good job.”

Pleasure warmed her heart. She moved closer, so now the desk edge bumped into her skirt. Lucinda touched the smooth, polished surface with her fingertips. “I’m ready for more responsibility. Will you give it to me, Riel?”

He pulled the Queen Anne chair close to him. “I have a list I’ve been meaning to go over with you.” When she had settled beside him, his dark gaze pinned hers. “You will see it done?”

“Of course.” She felt a tiny bit offended. “I have more than two thoughts to rub together in my head.”

He smiled. “I know you do. But it’s important a few of these jobs be completed by the end of summer.”

“All right.” Eagerly, she leaned forward and Riel explained in detail about each of the items on the list. Lucinda made notes so she would remember what he had said. All the while, she felt very aware of his close proximity, and the clean, spicy scent that was uniquely Riel. His tanned fingers moved over the parchment, pointing things out to her. She scanned his face as he spoke, and she realized she was trying to memorize every line, every angle…the exact color of his dark brown eyes…everything about him. Soon he would be gone, and she didn’t know when—or if—she would ever see him again.

The last thought stabbed through her heart. Lucinda knew his work was dangerous. Much as he unsettled and even irked her sometimes, fear twisted in her heart at the thought of him being injured…or dying like her father had done.

Lucinda blinked back hot moisture and bit her lip as Riel finished his list. “Uh huh,” she said, although she hadn’t heard the last words he’d said.

He sent her a sharp look. “So meek, Lucy. So amenable to everything I’ve told you to do.”

Lucinda stared at him, wondering if he meant to vex her. “Have you missed your daily tongue lashing, Mr. Montclair?”

He smiled. “You are wool gathering. I just told you to help Mrs. Beatty wash the dishes each night.”

She gave him a mock glare and quickly wiped away a tear that wobbled over her lid. “I will be glad to see the back of you. You may be sure of that.”

His smile faded. “Lucy…” His gaze followed the bright tear drop shimmering on her finger. More quietly, he said, “Are you crying over me?”

Lucinda stood, and brushed away more irksome tears. “I told you I can’t wait to see the back of you. Why would you ask such a silly question?”

He stood, too. With a rough finger, he lifted her chin up, and his eyes traced the path of her tears. “At last we have peace, Lucy?”

“Until you return and begin bossing me during my next Season,” she managed to retort.

“I will come sooner, if I can.”

She swallowed hard. It would be a long time before she saw him again, and Sophie would leave at the end of October. So long to be alone. Why had she ever wanted to live at Ravensbrook by herself? Yes, she wanted to captain her own destiny, but Lucinda had discovered she did not like living alone. Sophie’s bright presence and Riel’s overwhelming vitality filled every corner of her home. When he was not there, she felt lonelier than she had ever felt before.

“Try not to get yourself killed,” she told him.

“You eagerly await my return, and my unending demands during your Season?”

“I’ll be relieved when I don’t have to worry about you dying anymore.”

“You care, Lucy?”

Her face warmed, but she didn’t look away. “Perhaps. We have become friends, haven’t we, Baron?” A testing of their relationship lived in those words. Also a small admission of how much he meant to her. She could barely admit the full truth to herself.

“Friends.” He smiled a little. “I believe we are that, Lucy.”

Lucinda smiled, but felt it was high time to change the subject. “Sophie is doing better. Do you think it will last?”

He watched her for a minute, as if considering his response.

She stepped back. “Your silence tells me the truth. How long have you known? Why haven’t you told me?”

“Sophie didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m already worried! I’m not stupid. I can see she’s worse than last year. What is wrong with her?”

“Dropsy.” When she stared at him without comprehension, he elaborated, “Her heart is failing, and is filling with fluid. So are her lungs. It’s only a matter of time.”

Lucinda’s face crumpled. “No!”

“I am sorry.” Pain etched his features. He felt the anguish deeper than she did, of course. It was his beloved aunt, after all.

“I’m so sorry, Riel.” She sat down, her legs feeling shaky. “What can I do for her? Will she go any time?”

“Probably not soon. This winter may be her breaking point. It’s always her worst time.” He lowered his large frame onto the couch beside her. “I have a proposal for you.”

She eyed him uncertainly. Apparently, it must be a request, so she could choose her response. “What is it?”

“I talked to Mr. Chase. He has agreed to keep all of Ravensbrook’s accounts from November through next Season…should you decide to move to Iveny with Sophie in October.”

“I could do that?” Cautious joy filled her. “Sophie wants me to come?”

“It would make her very happy. And me, too, to know you are there to watch over her.”

“But what about Ravensbrook and the staff? Someone must keep watch over its affairs.”

“I think with Mr. Chase, the new accountant he’s hiring, Mrs. Beatty and Wilson working together, Ravensbrook will fare just fine.”

“But it’s for so long… But I don’t want Sophie to be alone, either. I know she has her devoted staff and her friends, but…”

“No family.”

“I’m not exactly family, am I?”

“To Sophie, you are.”

Tears blurred Lucinda’s eyes. “I feel honored that she thinks so.”

“You are wonderful to her, Lucy. She told me you’re like the granddaughter she never had.”

Lucinda swiped the tears from her eyes. “I love her, too.”

“You can give joy to her last months. If you won’t do it for her, do it for me.”

Riel would view it as a personal favor? Of course, Lucinda would move to Iveny for Sophie’s sake alone. But she must explore this interesting avenue just a bit further. “Riel. Are you saying you would owe me? Of course I would do it for Sophie. But if you would be in my debt, too…”

His serious expression relaxed. “Any favor you wish. Just name it, and I will give it to you.”

She smiled. “A valuable commodity. I will hold it until the perfect moment.”

He smiled. “So it is agreed?”

“Of course. Thank you for thinking of it, and for arranging it.”

“You are welcome, Lucy.”

She stared at him for a moment, surprised by their amicable meeting of minds. “I never thought this day would come.”

“That you could talk rationally with me?”

“That we could agree on anything,” she returned with asperity. “Typically, you run over my wishes like a bull in a pottery shop.”

“It is the difference between you waving a white flag or a red flag.”

Surrender, in other words. With a snort of exasperation, Lucinda leaped up. “That has earned you the end of peace, Mr. Montclair!”

He chuckled and rose. “Your father would be proud of you, Lucy. I am proud of you, too.”

Why did his praise warm her from the inside out? Why did she care what this pirate thought of her? And yet she did. She respected him and looked up to him, she realized with a flutter in her spirit.

“I will be in the garden if you have further requests to make of me, Mr. Montclair. Good day.”

His maddening chuckle followed her out.

At last she had voluntarily acquiesced to his wishes. Her wishes too, she was honest enough to admit. Now she could spend the winter with Sophie. Neither of them would be alone. She felt grateful to Riel for arranging that neat solution to both of their problems.

If only her semi-amicable relationship with Riel could last through next Season.

Unfortunately, that seemed unlikely, especially if the rapist wasn’t found. So far, no more crimes had been reported, but the Season wasn’t over yet. One thing was for certain; if the rapist wasn’t caught, and if she knew Riel at all, he would be on full alert next April, and certainly at his most overbearing and obnoxious.

If so, and if she wanted to live her life on her terms, and pursue the young men she wanted to pursue, then she’d definitely have her work cut out for her. Riel would likely become an unmanageable pirate if any suitors came sniffing too closely. That would prove quite unhelpful, for Lucinda felt determined to find a suitable husband next Season. She’d turn twenty soon after. Then Riel could go his way and her life would finally be her own again.

Depression slipped through her. It sounded perfect. The future she had always dreamed about. Then why did she feel so unhappy?

Much as she told herself
she was glad to see him go, Lucinda felt a thick lump in her throat when Riel finally drove off the next morning. No kisses on her hand this time. Just a quick climb into the carriage and he was off. It seemed like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

…Although he
had
hesitated by the front door and looked down at her for a long, inexplicable moment before leaving. “Goodbye, Lucy,” he’d told her in a faintly rough voice, and then descended the steps to his awaiting carriage.

Ravensbrook seemed empty without Riel. But Lucinda was happy that Sophie continued to feel good—at least, for the most part. Although Riel’s aunt suffered more frequent, intense attacks than last summer, they passed quickly. The warm, unusually dry summer seemed to improve the older woman’s cough.

They talked for hours about possible new plants for the garden, and then Sophie suggested Lucinda might plant a few rose bushes. Lucinda agreed to try one and see how it fared.

One morning, when Sophie felt particularly well, and her cough only occasional, they traveled to the village to choose a rose bush. It was late in the season for planting, but Sophie insisted it would survive just fine.

“Best yet, we’ll see what color the blooms are,” she said happily. Clutching her cane, the two traversed the small rose garden. Sophie lit upon a butter yellow rose.

“It’s perfect!” she cooed. “I have long wished to find one just this shade.”

Lucinda smiled. “Then let’s take it.”

They planted the rosebush with the gardener’s help, and after the first few sickly days, it rallied and burst forth into brilliant blooms. With a gleam in her eye, Sophie proclaimed herself quite satisfied, and Lucinda promised to buy more roses next year.

Summer fled by. Damp, rainy weather set in and the days grew colder. Late October and Lucinda’s nineteenth birthday arrived before she knew it. She invited Amelia and a few other friends over to enjoy a small party. Sophie’s worsening cough prevented the older lady from attending, which was a dark blot on the occasion.

A letter for each of them arrived from Riel, too. Sophie was thrilled, and Lucinda read hers over and over again…short as it was. It simply said,

Happy birthday, Lucy. I will deliver to you a present of your choice when I return. May your day be as bright and beautiful as you are.

I remain

Ever yours,

Riel

His words warmed her. He thought her bright and beautiful? Better than a tantrumming, spoilt brat! Maybe he believed she’d grown up at last. Although Lucinda still didn’t think she needed a guardian, she missed Riel. His absence left an aching void in her heart. How that could be when he irked her so much, she could not fathom, but there it was. Perhaps she was lonely, and wanted more people to talk to. In any case, now Riel owed her both a present and a favor. She would be a rich girl indeed when he returned.

However many long months from now that might be.

At the beginning of November Sophie’s cough dramatically worsened, and they traveled to Iveny. Content, Sophie spent most of her days wrapped up in a blanket in the conservatory. Lucinda made sure the fire always burned, for the warmth seemed to help Sophie’s cough.

The days slowly passed. November slipped by, and then it was Christmas. Letters arrived from Amelia and Riel. Riel could not come home, but he mentioned the end of the war appeared in sight. Lucinda hoped so.

Amelia sent a newsy letter, and excitedly wrote that she and her mother planned to spend the entire Season in London. It would be Amelia’s last Season, and her parents had decided the expense would be worth it. Amelia also mentioned, with many exclamation marks, that young Timothy Fenwick and his twin sister would attend, as well. In late March, both would turn eighteen. “Imagine all the sore, stomped toes! Miss you, but April will be here before we know it.”

Perhaps the time would fly by for Amelia, but it did not for Lucinda. Sophie’s health took a dramatic turn for the worse in January, and she could not get out of bed. Worried, Lucinda spent most of her days with her, reading to her, helping her eat, and just spending time together.

As Sophie grew grayer and sicker, so did Lucinda’s spirits. Sophie’s bright eyes dimmed, and Lucinda wanted to weep. Where was Riel? He needed to come home. Now. Before it was too late.

In February, she wrote a letter in care of Command Headquarters in Portsmouth, urging Riel to come home at once.

* * * * *

The long months at sea passed quickly for Riel; at least, for the most part. The days were full of daring sorties with the French, zooming close to spy on locations, and then fleeing from cannon fire.
Tradewind
suffered a wound to her upper deck. A repair fixed at sea.

They anchored at various small ports as the Lieutenant Commander directed, so the intelligence they gathered could be ferried to appropriate command centers. Never once did they dock in Portsmouth, although Riel did receive the letter Lucy sent—but not until March. The news weighed on his spirit. He longed to be home and see his great-aunt. And Lucy. He missed his feisty ward more than he’d ever dreamed possible. His heart ached when he thought of her, which was often.

And he was weary. Long days and nights at sea, combined with the unremitting stress and fear of discovery, meant Riel did not sleep well. When he did, especially on those darkest nights, he dreamed of Lucy.

In those dreams she always came as she had that day in the study at Ravensbrook, when he’d been exhausted and wondered how long he could drive himself without rest. She came as an angel to offer comfort to his tormented soul. Her smile applied the balm of peace to the stress he felt running in the shadows with the enemy each day, and flirting with the truth…seeking it, and finding it, as was his job. Searching out French locations and following clippers to their hideouts. A deliverer of spies and messages. Cloak and dagger. Secrets and truth. Much like the truth in his own soul that he wanted to keep hidden.

How long before someone discovered that secret at last? How long before he was exposed as a killer? He’d been afraid Warrington might expose him last Season. If not him, then someone else.

Darkness lived in Riel’s soul; a blot that would never leave. Didn’t it say somewhere—perhaps in the Bible, as he’d learned as a boy—that all hidden truths would be exposed? One day, his black secret would be uncovered. Lucy would find out. This certainty became stronger as the days stretched into March, and when the stress of his job and worry for his great-aunt felt like a sword through his soul.

Lucy still came to him in his dreams then, offering sweet comfort…but in the middle she always learned the truth of his past. Always her lovely face contorted with the contempt and condemnation he deserved. And always she fled from him, leaving him desolate and alone.

Forever alone. Riel woke from the dreams sweating and cold. Despair and hollow acceptance grew that one day the nightmare would come true. One day he would lose Lucy forever. But first, he would deliver her to a man worthy of her…who would enjoy her fire. Who would love her with his whole heart, as she deserved. Then, when he’d completed his promise to her father, it wouldn’t matter if Warrington or someone else exposed his past.

Riel tried to fill the empty ache inside him with work, and more work, day and night. And he cherished the dreams when Lucy came to him and he could have her all to himself for a little while. Before the wolves tore her away from him forever.

One wolf, however, would never get his teeth into her. Warrington. As the time grew closer to the Season and the end of his work with the Navy, Riel grew more resolute on this point. He didn’t trust Warrington, and never would. And his decision was based on more than what had happened in Morocco. That brother of a viper would never touch Lucy.