by Sylvia Day
He frowned at her use of his alias, reminded of a task he had set for himself and never accomplished. “Wait for me a moment, sweet. I must speak with the captain.”
She looked up at him curiously, but did as he asked without question.
It took only a moment to locate the man he sought. “Captain, did you have the opportunity to speak with your crew about my identity?”
The captain’s smile peeked out from his bushy gray beard. “Aye, milord, but as I tried to tell you, the men are loyal to Lady Merrick. We’ve all been with ’er father, Mr. Lambert, since she was a babe. As far as pirates go, yer crew were the only ones what could catch us. You kept the damage to a minimum, and ye didn’t ’urt the lass even before you knew she was yer wife. The men on this ship can respect that.”
Sebastian nodded, relieved.
A sharp screech from the quay and his name shouted in Olivia’s angry voice had him running toward the gangplank. With a quick eye, he took in the rigid set of her spine, the reticule swinging from her fist, and the finely dressed man who covered his face with his hands, cursing foully. It was easy to deduce that she’d been accosted in some manner she’d found offensive and fought back, as she was wont to do.
Filled with furious possessiveness, Sebastian launched himself at the man, no questions asked. Two quick punches, one to the face and the other to the diaphragm, had the lecher moaning in misery.
Satisfied, Sebastian leapt to his feet, straightening his waistcoat, and went to his wife. “What happened?” he asked gently, visually searching for any evidence of injury or insult to her person. Olivia’s face was frighteningly pale.
“That man—” she stabbed a finger at her assailant, “—wants a trip to Bedlam! He kissed me, then called me his wife!”
Sebastian shot a curious glance at the man on the ground and gasped. Now that his face was no longer hidden, the visage was startlingly familiar. “Bloody hell, Carr! What the devil are you doing assaulting my wife?”
“You know him?” Olivia asked in astonishment as Sebastian helped Carr to his feet.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered. “This deranged man is Carr Blake, my cousin.”
Carr glanced at Sebastian and then Olivia with watering eyes. “Damnation, Merrick! What are you doing here?”
Sebastian arched a brow. “I am escorting my wife to our home. What are you doing here? And kissing my wife, for Christ’s sake! Are you mad?”
Carr swallowed hard.
Sebastian lifted his gaze and spied the waiting carriage. The equipage was new, not one he recognized, but the crest emblazoned on the door was his. “You’ve been using my carriage?”
Olivia placed her hand on his arm. “He called me his wife,” she choked out. “He came in your equipage.”
Sebastian shot a look at her, saw her blanched features, and felt his mouth fall open as the pieces fell into place. “Oh, hell!” He turned to Carr, his nails digging into his palms as he resisted the urge to throttle his relative. “Tell me, cousin, that you are not here pretending to be me.”
Carr winced a split second before Sebastian’s fist knocked him into oblivion.
Olivia said nothing during the ride to Dunsmore House. She couldn’t have managed speech even if she’d desired to, what with her mouth being dry as the desert and her throat clenched shut with apprehension. Her discomfort only worsened as the carriage rolled to a halt in front of the imposing manse.
Sebastian vaulted down and stared up at the elegant façade. “Remain here.”
“No,” she argued. “I’m coming with you. You are not facing your father alone.”
He looked over his shoulder. “I don’t want you anywhere near him!”
“I don’t want you anywhere near him either, but you insisted we come.” She lifted her chin. “Go in there without me, and I’ll follow you, I vow.”
Sebastian’s face was grim as he assisted her down. He glanced at the footman. “Wait here,” he ordered.
Olivia shivered at her husband’s starkly austere features. He led her inside, ignoring the horrified butler. They ascended the stairs, heading directly to the study, where masculine voices could be heard. His hand at the small of her back was firm and steady, despite the inner turmoil she sensed. She’d never seen him in such a mood, something akin to murderous rage, and she realized at that moment what had prompted his fierce reputation.
They entered the room, again without knocking, and Olivia paused, frozen on the threshold, shocked to find her father in a wingback chair in front of the fire. Sitting opposite him was a man who looked remarkably like Sebastian and nothing like the decrepit, miserly man she had pictured in her mind.
Jack Lambert stood, his golden hair glinting in the light of the fire. “Livy, sweet!” He came to her and kissed both of her cheeks. “You’re late, by weeks. I was worried sick. Agents at the shipping office have kept watch for the Seawitch. Your husband made haste to retrieve you when word came that she’d put into port.” He looked past her to Sebastian, eyeing him speculatively. “Where is Lord Merrick? And who is this gentleman?”
Sebastian clasped her father’s outstretched hand and dipped his head respectfully.
Olivia shot a scathing glance at the marquess. “Lord Merrick, may I present my father, Jack Lambert. Father, this is Lord Merrick.”
Her father scowled. “The devil you say!”
“You’ve been deceived,” Sebastian explained softly.
Her father turned to the marquess, frowning in obvious confusion.
Lord Dunsmore rose from his chair with arrogant indifference. He was as tall as his son, but slender and elegant in his build. He was almost frightening, with his cruel mouth and harshly lined eyes. “Sebastian,” he drawled. “I see your penchant for ruining the best-laid plans is still in evidence.”
Sebastian’s arm stiffened under Olivia’s fingertips.
Her father’s face turned a mottled red. “Explain yourself, Dunsmore!”
The marquess arched a sardonic brow, the depths of his eyes showing no emotion at seeing the son who had been absent for years. “I think I’ll leave the explanations to Merrick.”
Sebastian stood for a moment, his face an impassive mirror of his father’s as the two men stared each other down, the animosity between them palpable. Olivia tugged on his arm to draw his attention back to her father. He took a deep breath. “Mr. Lambert. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I thank you for the hand of your daughter, whom I treasure.”
Her father raked Sebastian with a more penetrating gaze. She knew what he saw—a tall, massively built male with the tan and muscles of a manual laborer. With the long hair and icy expression, Sebastian was intimidating.
“Are you satisfied with this union?” her father asked gruffly. “I was able to ascertain some of the character of the man I thought was the earl, but this man next to you is a stranger to me.”
She gave a tremulous smile. “I am most pleased, Father. Merrick has been wonderful.”
Her father shot her a skeptical glance. “I researched Sebastian Blake thoroughly before signing the marriage agreements. He was known to be a scapegrace in his youth, an incorrigible. But the man I met was polished and civilized.” Unspoken was the notion that Sebastian was none of those things, but she heard it nevertheless.
And so did her husband.
Olivia winced, her heart aching. She hugged Sebastian’s arm closer.
“We can procure an annulment, Livy,” her father persisted. “I want you to be happy.”
“No annulment,” she said firmly, feeling Sebastian’s body become taut as a bow.
“If I know my son,” the marquess drawled, “it is far too late for an annulment. Don’t whine, Lambert. You bought your daughter an earl, and she acquired one. No harm done.”
Olivia gasped at the insult, instantly reminded of how cruel the peerage could be to those they deemed beneath them. Her feelings meant nothing to this man. She meant nothing. To him, she was no more than a breeding mare and a
fat purse. Despite her lifelong pursuit of indifference, she couldn’t deny that the marquess’s callousness stung.
Sebastian glanced at her. Attuned to her feelings by weeks of deep intimacy, he leapt to her defense.
“Damn you!” he snarled. “Were you that desperate for an heir to your precious title? To send Carr to my wife . . .” He took a step toward his father, who hadn’t the sense to move away. “I’d have killed you both if he’d touched her in my name. I’ve a mind to kill you anyway.”
“Sebastian, no!” Olivia cried as she saw his hands clench into fists. “He’s not worth it.”
The marquess dismissed his son’s fury with an imperious wave of his hand. “You had no knowledge you were even married. You showed no interest in the Dunsmore lands, the tenants, or your duty to the title. Something had to be done.”
Sebastian laughed, a hard, bitter sound. “Those are your responsibilities until you die.”
“You must learn your place!” Dunsmore barked. “Accustom yourself to your future duties, create issue.”
Sebastian shook his head. “Stay out of my life and my business. Stay away from my wife. I won’t tell you again.”
Her father reached for her. “Come, Olivia. We’re leaving.”
“She goes nowhere without me,” Sebastian warned without taking his eyes from his father. “You are welcome to stay in my home if you like, Mr. Lambert, but Olivia’s place is with her husband. With me.”
“I don’t even know you!” Jack bellowed. “How can I trust my daughter to your care?”
“Father!” she beseeched, alarmed at his vehemence. She had no wish to defy him, but Sebastian was her life now. She prayed she wouldn’t be forced to choose between the only two people who mattered. “Please!”
“You shall have plenty of opportunity to become acquainted with me,” Sebastian said as he returned to her side and reclaimed her arm in an obvious declaration of possession. “My father is correct. It is far too late for an annulment.” His implication was clear—she’d been compromised.
Olivia flushed, mortified.
Her father searched her face, his own tight with concern. “Livy?”
“Come with us, Father.” She glanced at Lord Dunsmore. “I do not think I can remain here another moment.”
Sebastian nodded. “I agree. We’ve finished our business.” He gestured with his free hand toward the door. “Mr. Lambert. Will you join us?”
“Of course.” He shot a furious glare at the marquess. “I am not done with you, my lord. You should have held a care for your reputation. I care only for Olivia.”
Dunsmore arched a scornful brow. “Of course. You care so much for your daughter, you would marry her to a stranger without even an introduction. You’re a paragon of paternal affection.”
Jack flushed. “I considered her welfare. You cared only for your own.”
Olivia stared at the marquess and was certain she’d never met a man as devoid of emotion. He appeared to care nothing for the enmity directed toward him from all sides. She shivered merely from being in the same room with him and wondered how a man as warm and vibrant as her husband could have come from such a father.
“Where is your gratitude, Sebastian?” the marquess asked. “I procured you a beautiful bride and a hefty dowry. Of course, she’s not but a merchant’s daughter, but since you weren’t here to see to the matter yourself, you should be appreciative in any case. In fact, you strike me as unfashionably smitten, which suits the rest of your appearance.”
The hatred that poured from Sebastian poisoned the air. “You may insult me at your leisure, Father, but keep your talons out of my wife. It is only my . . . appreciation for her that prevents me from tearing you apart with my bare hands.”
The marquess laughed. “I believe you could do it, too. Look at you! You’re like a savage. Dark-skinned, long-haired, and built like an ape.”
Olivia whimpered in agony, knowing that Sebastian was bleeding from wounds she had helped to inflict. She had teased him with those same descriptions, but now he would wonder and think himself less of a man, when in fact he was more of one than anyone she had ever met.
“He’s beautiful,” she snapped. “You’re a fool for failing to see how wonderful he is. The loss is yours.” She tugged at Sebastian.
With a jerky nod, he gestured for her father to precede them.
Just as quickly as they’d arrived, they departed, her father following in his carriage. As they jolted forward, she moved to sit beside Sebastian, wrapping her arms around his stiff body. She watched Dunsmore House roll by the window, wishing it and the man inside a good riddance.
Chapter Five
Sebastian paced the length of his room in furious strides, damning himself for a fool for thinking he could return to England and survive the experience unscathed. Over and over he played the afternoon’s events in his mind. What would have happened had he not intercepted Olivia’s ship? Would she have arrived and been duped into thinking Carr was her husband?
The ruse wouldn’t have lasted long. His father must have intended for Olivia to go straight to Dunsmore House. A few months to assure a pregnancy, and she would have been too devastated to ever leave. The thought made him sick, it was so heinous. And he’d brought his wife back to this cesspool. Now she knew just how vile was the blood that flowed in his veins.
The adjoining door opened softly behind him. When Sebastian turned to face Olivia, he stilled, devastated to see her attired in a white lace night rail and robe that had to be part of her trousseau.
Her dark eyes skimmed over him, noting that he was still fully dressed. “You’re leaving,” she said flatly.
He stood there, sweat instantly misting his skin. He wanted to say something, anything, to erase the wounded look from her eyes, but his mouth was too dry.
“When?” she asked in a pained whisper. “Now?”
His voice came colder than he’d intended. “You said you wanted an absent husband.”
“I know what I said.” She stared at him, her heart in her eyes.
Against his will, Sebastian held out his hand to her, and she ran into his arms, her softness and redolence enveloping his senses. How had he thought this would be easy?
“I don’t want to leave you,” he murmured into her hair, and then hated himself for admitting the weakness.
“Can you wait?” she begged. “Allow me to settle Father’s concerns. A week or two at most, and then I’ll go with you.”
Sebastian felt his chest constrict painfully and his cock grow heavy with need. “You would do that?” he asked gruffly. “Live on a ship with me, without a home?”
“My home is with you.” Her slender fingers encircled his wrist and moved his hand down between her legs. Then she curled her fingers over his to cup her sex. “You’re so tense, restless like a caged panther.” She arched her hips into his hand, rubbing herself against his splayed fingers. “Allow me to give you ease and help you relax. We can discuss everything in the morning.”
Eyes closed, he pressed his mouth into her hair. “I don’t trust myself with you. Not at this moment.” He was so furious and disgusted, he could barely breathe, and with her body undulating against his hand, all he wanted was to throw her on her back and fuck her until he couldn’t think, couldn’t feel.
“I know you’re angry and frustrated, but you’d never hurt me.”
With a perverse need to argue, he spoke harshly. “You know nothing of me. I attacked your ship just for the amusement of it. Perhaps I’d have even raped you if you weren’t willing.”
“Oh, Sebastian.” Olivia sighed. “If you wish to argue rather than make love, I suppose I can accommodate you. But at least be honest. You took my ship without the loss of one life. And rape?” She shot him an amused glance. “A man of your outrageous beauty would have no need. ’Tis lucky for you I am your wife, or I might have raped you.”
He scowled, even as his soul ached with longing. “You said I was a long-haired savage.”
&nbs
p; “Heavens, you didn’t believe that?” She stepped away from his flexing fingers and moved to the small circular table in the corner. Pouring a large ration of brandy from the decanter, she brought it to him with a provocative sway to her hips, her golden curls tumbling past her waist.
“You are the most decadent-looking man I’ve ever seen, Sebastian Blake. Dark as sin, more beautiful and seductive than the devil himself, I would imagine. I would not change a thing about you. It amazes me every morning when I wake up and look at you lying beside me. I pinch myself regularly to be certain I’m not dreaming—that you’re actually mine, that I bear your name and title.” Her eyes locked on his as her voice lowered seductively. “That I’ll bear your children.”
Sebastian took the glass from her, his hand trembling, downing the liquor in one swallow. “You sound as if you received the better half of the bargain.”
“I did.” Moving away, Olivia shrugged out of her robe and left it behind her on the floor. She reached the bed and leaned against the edge. “I am assuming by the bulge in your breeches that you wish me to stay in your room tonight.”
His hand dropped to his side, his fist close to crushing the empty glass. “Stay if you like. I’m going out.”
“With your cock as hard as a poker?”
His mouth curved mockingly. Best she witness the depths to which he could sink now. Fruit never falls far from the tree. “You needn’t concern yourself with my cock.”
“Whose concern would it be if not mine?’ she asked with a soft snort. “You cannot go about town in that condition.”
“I don’t intend to.”
Her eyes widened as she understood his meaning. “You intend to find a whore to sate your lust on?”
“Perhaps.” Sebastian shrugged. “Or maybe I’ll sample two. My need is fierce tonight.”
Olivia stood, her hands clenching into tiny fists. “Why? When I am always eager for you?”
He laughed. “Yes, you do like my cock, don’t you?”
“Yes, and I am not ashamed to say so.” Her chin lifted, her dark gaze burning into his. “Take me, Sebastian, and spare yourself the coin.”