The Rogue’s Prize (49 page)

the man who’d promised to save her

aboard the
Octavia
, who’d protected her

when she’d tried to escape on the gig,

who’d attempted to visit her almost

daily after they’d returned to London,

who’d promised her sanctuary from an

unhappy marriage … had masterminded

her capture?

The room shrank until it became so

stifling she couldn’t breathe. Weighted

draperies hung neatly from the four

corners of her bunk, serving as a

reminder she was hemmed in. Just past

the bed drapes, a large desk came into

focus. Beyond it stood an open doorway,

promising escape.

Burton spoke to someone nearby.

His bulbous lips pumped spittle into the

air. He was dressed in maroon from

head to foot, a scant cravat peeking from

his high collar, which made his double

chin more pronounced. His balding head

peeped above the high neckline like a

turtle popping out of a shell as he sliced

an apple and plopped a piece into his

mouth, chewing the succulent fruit. He

studied her pensively.

“I assume she came with baggage?”

he asked.

Baggage? What was he talking

about?

Guffald cleared his throat. “He’ll

be here momentarily. Give the man

credit. He’s not as asinine as you might

think. Should he discover your ruse, and

your men fail to fend him off, you and I

shall both regret our affiliation with each

other.”

“I’ve made no bones of the fact that

the man has been a thorn in my side for

nearly a year. If Frink had only half the

sense of an educated man, he’d have

seen through Percy’s charade from day

one. I cannot believe the man lived

among my men undetected. ’Tis a sad

state of affairs.”

They spoke in riddles. Why were

they discussing Captain Frink? She

watched them interact beneath hooded

eyes. It did not take long, however, for

her to decipher their meaning. Guffald,

one of Percy’s dearest friends, had

betrayed her in order to draw Percy to

Burton. She shivered unexpectedly.

Though she hated her husband for lying

to her, she did not want him dead.

Her reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’ll be interested to know that we’ve

prepared a wonderful surprise for your

— ahem — husband.”

“Surprise?” Her eyes locked with

Guffald’s for one horrifying moment.

Her body coiled like a spring. She

wanted to run for the door, to warn

Percy. But they were watching her

closely and she had the baby to consider.

She sent Guffald a silent plea. His face,

however, was a mask of indifference.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“What do you want with me?”

Burton’s shrill laughter grated her

frayed nerves. “You
are
a simpleton!”

he declared. “I had never imagined

you’d be so dense.”

“There is no call to insult Lady

Constance, Burton.”

Burton’s palm slammed upon the

desk. “You will address me as Lord

Burton! I will not accept anything less. I

have done everything you asked and

more, Guffald. Do not begin to harass or

disparage me!”

“We agreed that Constance would

not be harmed. You promised she would

be
mine
!” Guffald’s outburst rocked her

to the core. He’d been collaborating

with Burton? But how could this be? He

had sworn to defend people against men

like Burton.

Constance stared at Guffald for a

long moment. “Yours?”

“I could not have you any other

way, Constance,” Guffald admitted.

“Forgive me.”

“What you need is a real man,”

Burton interrupted. “Not a dandy or a

man known to disguise himself as a

filthy pirate. Your husband branded

himself a member of the ton, only to

stagger with the crustiest of men and flirt

with the wildest tarts known to man. The

man you married does not exist, though

he portrays himself as a popinjay to

relieve suspicion. I doubt you know that

he is the man who tore you from Frink’s

nest and laid claim to you upon a

captain’s bunk such as this,” he said,

pointing to the bunk beneath her.

“I’m not immune to gossip. In fact,

my men make it their bound and duty to

inform me on the dalliances of every

member of the ton. That is how I’ve

attained my wealth. To know one’s

enemy is to earn great reward.”

“You are a fiend!” she screamed.

“There. There. Do not exert

yourself. I know learning you’ve been

duped has been hard to digest. Even

Guffald did not know the difference. It

wasn’t until he found Percy skulking

around my meetinghouse that we learned

the truth. Poor soul,” he said, his gaze

lingering on Guffald. “He couldn’t find

the strength to kill Percy then, though he

did strike him over the head nicely. Too

bad he didn’t have the wherewithal to

finish the job. If it wasn’t for that locket

we stole from you, and its perfect

placement in Josiah Cane’s possession, I

seriously doubt we’d have been able to

control Percy this long.”

“My locket?” she asked.

“Yes, dear. I bribed one of your

servants to steal it. She was quite happy

to earn the extra shillings.” Her heart

clenched at the betrayal. Someone in her

own home had stolen her most valuable

possession.

Burton

sighed.

“It

was

all

diabolical, I assure you. The plan was

for Percy to find it and believe that you

were working in league with us. I had to

cast doubt as to your loyalties so he

would not confide in you.”

It was all beginning to make sense.

Burton had no way of knowing that he’d

provided her with hopeful news. Guffald

had resisted killing Percy when he’d had

the chance. There had to be a part of

him, however small, that could be

persuaded to do the right thing. And

because Percy thought she was involved

with Burton, he chose not to confide in

her. Her eyes locked onto Guffald’s,

silently pleading for his help. She still

believed that he would do the right thing.

His eyes cut away from any amount of

persuasion she could employ.

Feeling helplessly lost, Constance

realized everyone around her had

disguised their true ambitions.

Strange sounds clanked above

deck. A loud thump and a crash

followed. Shots were fired. She

screamed as flashbacks of the
Octavia
’s

attack swarmed over her. Her heart

thumped an erratic rhythm. She couldn’t

catch her breath.

Burton cast a feverish glance at the

cabin door and barked an order. Guffald

slipped away from his station and

stepped beside her.

He grabbed her close. “It appears

our trap has been sprung.”

• • •

the
Stockton
. His only thought was that

he could not lose Constance the way

he’d lost Celeste. He plowed forward,

uncaring how far back his men had fallen

behind. Darkness and a descending fog

threatened to obscure their efforts, but

also offered natural cover. He could not

wait for the opaque shroud to descend

however. The
Stockton
had been rigged

for departure. Provisions had been

stacked on deck, providing cover for

anyone waiting in ambush.

There was no doubt in his mind that

his wife was on board. Guffald and his

crew intended to set sail, making sure

Constance would be out of his reach.

Beyond rescue. As he stormed the

gangway, he ignored the ramifications of

Guffald’s betrayal. All that mattered

now was finding the one thing that

mattered most in the world to him — his

wife.

Armed to the teeth with axe,

blunderbuss, and sword, Percy was not

about to fall before reaching the heart of

the ship. Constance would be held there.

He’d lived too long without the warmth

of a woman, without love, to lose the

chance now when he’d only just

discovered the possibility of loving

again.

Yes. He loved Constance. He knew

that now. She’d slipped through his

wounds and settled into his heart no

matter how rigorously he’d tried to

shield it. No matter how long and how

hard he’d fought his attraction to her,

he’d lost the battle. No, he decided. He

hadn’t lost. Rather he’d won. He’d

fallen in love with his wife, with

Constance, and that act had been easier

than he’d ever believed possible. But

now that he’d found love, he could not

live without his wife or the child they

had created. Their child. His heir! The

idea that Burton would try to take that

away from him propelled him onward.

Percy rushed onto the Stockton with

his gun secured at his waist and his

scabbard and sword slung over his back.

In his hand, he wielded a boarding axe

and swung it with flourish as men darted

out from behind stacked provisions and

began to attack, just as he’d known they

would. One by one, men fell beneath the

circling arc of his sharpened blade.

Nearly a year of training aboard a pirate

ship had honed his muscles and his

skills. Every nerve-ending screamed as

he hacked his way down to the captain’s

cabin, where he knew a welcome party

waited and he hoped to find Constance

and Guffald unharmed.

Percy still could not believe his old

friend had betrayed him. Guffald had

proven himself loyal to the crown, to

Simon, to him — again and again.

Whatever Guffald’s reasons for turning

against him, and for kidnapping his wife,

Percy was prepared to kill his friend in

order to bring Constance home alive.

Side-stepping a sailor with a

mallet, he grabbed the cabin door handle

and forced the door open, slamming the

wooden portal into the man’s face and

knocking him out, aware only that he

was probably descending into a trap. But

he didn’t care.

He made his way down into the

bowels of the ship to the captain’s cabin.

Once there, he slammed the cabin door

open until it hit the inside wall with a

whallup, banging with enough force to

break it off the hinge. His eyes settled

upon Burton sitting like a peacock, his

legs spread as if ready to run, his face a

mixture of fear and contentment.

“So good of you to join us,” he

mocked with unsettling assurance.

Percy scoured the room for his

wife. But neither Constance nor Guffald

were anywhere in sight. “Where’s my

wife?” he shouted.

“Why would you think your wife is

on board this ship? Blendingham, I fear

you’ve gone to a lot of trouble for

nothing.”

“Nothing?” he repeated. Was the

man on opium?

“Indeed,” he said, his eyes trained

on Percy’s attire. “Tsk. Tsk. I believe

this is the first time I’ve ever seen you

appear quite the worse for wear.”

“I’ve no time for your banter,” he

spat.

“That would be a first.”

“Where is she?” Percy bellowed,

tiring of Burton’s games.

“I simply cannot abide impatience,

Blendingham. It takes all the joy out of a

plan. To be sure … you do appear the

worse for wear. Not appropriately in

control to deal with me but mad — ”

“Mad?
You
are mad if you think you

can get away with this.”

“I can and I will,” Burton said, his

eyes gleaming murderously. “You see,

you’ve

slaughtered

my

men. An

unregrettable happenstance, I assure you,

but one the port authorities will not

understand.”

Percy’s brow furrowed. He did not

intend for this situation to make it to his

superiors. And if there were official

problems to contend with, Simon would